Sorry not sorry for the middle name I made up for Ryan.

Ryan was in crisis.

His mother seemed like she was in a trance. She had always been so vibrant, so full of life. Now she was a husk of herself, not taking up any space or voicing her opinions, just standing there in a dress she hadn't picked out, her head down and her eyes distant. She had been destroyed, and it was Ryan's fault.

Ryan didn't have time to keep worrying about his mother, though, because he was busy being lectured about what was going to be the second hardest day of his life.

"Ryan Gilbert Evans," his dad said, pulling out the middle name to emphasize that he was serious, "you are going to act like a normal young man at the funeral or you'll be grounded for the rest of the semester."

"Oh no, grounding, the worst thing that could ever happen to me," Ryan retorted, trying not to scream or yell or cry.

"Don't you dare disrespect me, Ryan. This is your sister's funeral and everyone's eyes are going to be on us, so we are going to go there, and we are going to act like a normal family, and you are not going to act childish or weak or gay," Lance snapped.

Ryan felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He nodded and lowered his eyes, becoming as silent and distant as his mother.

"Stand up straight," Lance ordered, before putting an arm around Derby and heading outside.

Ryan blinked back tears and followed his parents to the car.

The past few days he'd been spending as much time with Chad as he could, not because he was madly in love with Chad but because Chad was the only person he felt like he could breathe around.

Chad understood what he was going through, and Chad didn't care about all the things Lance Evans cared about. Ryan had begun to get along with Chad's parents as well. They were such kind and welcoming people, every time Ryan had to go back home he couldn't help wishing he was back with the Danforths instead.

Today was the first time he'd seen his mom since the day they found the body. He'd seen a lot of his dad, who had become even more authoritarian than before. Being home wasn't fun, wasn't easy, and right now being around his dad didn't even feel safe.

Ryan stayed quiet in the backseat, feeling an air of death in the car that was far deeper than the loss of Sharpay. That would be a cut that always bleeds, and it was completely Ryan's fault, but their family had been broken long before that.

"Yeah, I don't miss the dysfunction," Sharpay commented, still an ever-present voice in his head.

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Lance snapped.

"Nothing, sorry. I'm just emotional about the funeral."

Lance sighed, "We all are, son. Just try not to…"

"Be yourself," Ryan thought.

"Try not to disrespect Sharpay's legacy."

"Your legacy," Ryan thought.

That was the only comforting thing Lance said to Ryan, and the last thing anyone said for the rest of the drive, so that the only sound was Derby's hiccuping sobs, as she woke up from her trance long enough to realize they were driving to her baby girl's funeral. At one point, Lance put his hand on Derby's arm to comfort her and Ryan wondered why his dad could never be there for him the way he was there for the people he actually loved. Why couldn't Lance Evans at least fake it? But no, he only had to be a good dad when people were watching.

Ryan felt sick. He felt like he was going to pass out, actually, especially since he knew he was supposed to speak at the funeral. He had suggested when he was told that he had to speak that he perform a song instead. Something that Sharpay had always enjoyed. Maybe "For Good", from Wicked. Sharpay had always loved Wicked. Lance Evans had shut that down pretty quickly. So even though Ryan would have felt more comfortable singing and sitting down, he would have to eulogize his own twin sister. And so he felt like he was going to faint.

The other reason he felt like he was going to faint was the fact that he'd eaten very little since Monday. When he was with Chad he always had to eat something, to prove that he was at least trying to get by, but when he was alone the thought of food repelled him. There would be a little reception after the funeral, where there would be food, and where people would be watching him. He would have to eat then unless he could get out of it. Maybe he could get out of it…

"You're already skinny, Ry. You're going to be skin and bones soon," Sharpay said, "And you're never going to be the lead in the spring musical if you can't even stand up."

Ryan didn't know how to tell his ghost sister that the spring musical was hardly his priority right now.

"Alright. Do you remember what you're going to say?" His dad asked when they got to the funeral home and got out of the car.

"Yeah." He was good at memorizing things, good at putting on an act. But right now he was so woozy it was getting hard to pretend to be okay, it was getting hard to pretend.

"Good. You're going third, after the preacher and me."

Derby, still sobbing, hadn't wanted to speak at her baby girl's funeral.

"Right. Third."

The funeral passed as a blur, the clock ticking down to the moment he had to get up and speak. Until then he held his mom's hand and took secret glances around so that Sharpay could see all the people who had come to her funeral.

"A pretty good turnout," Sharpay decided. Good enough, though there really should have been more people to celebrate her.

"Sharpay was more than a sister to me. She was my best friend."

"You should've done a song," Sharpay remarked.

The room was spinning.

"Her loss will be felt by my family and this community for the rest of our lives. And if I could do anything to bring her back, if I could keep her from going over the edge-"

He didn't get to finish that sentiment, because at that point his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.