Miserable at Best ; daris

Miserable at Best

"Anyone who ends up with Chris Faller is a lucky person, to say the least. I've thought that for all the time I've known him, since high school, since we became friends.

Junior prom, he was nervous, and asked a boy named Patrick. Patrick, of course, said yes. Who wouldn't say yes? He's Chris Faller.

I never found a date for junior prom. I stayed home and marathoned Star Wars with Bob Morris. I barely payed attention to the movies, though. Bob kept asking me if I was okay, and I had to lie. I couldn't tell him I was distracted. I couldn't stop thinking about what was happening at the prom, how there was probably a slow song playing at that moment, and how Chris probably had his arms around Patrick, having the time of his life. And I was stuck at home, watching fucking Star Wars. I think it's safe to assume I was a little bit in love with Chris Faller.

Moving on from that, though. A small, unimportant part of the story.

Chris asked me why I didn't go to prom. I told him I wasn't up for it, but I had to bite back my own words, I wasn't up for it because I didn't have anyone to go with.

I can't put into words my disappointment when I found out Chris and Patrick had started dating.

It wasn't a big thing, at least, it shouldn't have been. It ended by the next year, and I thought it might be my chance. I know this isn't the best time to be talking about it. But I have to.

Chris was drunk. He was drunk, and it was late, and he showed up at my doorstep in tears. I pulled him into my arms, brought him inside, and asked what happened. He could barely talk through his tears.

He blabbered random syllables, clinging to me, the fabric of my shirt, as tight as he could. I took the chance to press a kiss to the top of his head.

He was crying, because Patrick had broken up with him.

His head was full of ideas about how he wasn't good enough. I tried to keep him calm, but he was drunk, and he didn't care about what I said. He just wanted the comfort, and I was happy to give it to him.

He changed, after that. He started flirting with boys openly, going to bars with a fake ID. Every time I saw him, he was with another guy. And I was pushed into this whirlwind that was only focused on pulling me away from Chris.

I was convinced the world was against me.

And then, then he met Marc.

I lost count of the days, but it was after we graduated high school. He and Marc fit together like a puzzle, no missing pieces. No room for me.

I learned to accept it, for the most part, and I kept together when Chris called me on their anniversary, and asked: Hey, Darren, do you think Marc likes me enough to say yes to a proposal?

I was tempted to say no, just because I knew the answer was yes. Chris was at my door in tears, and even at the sight of seeing him crying, my heart soared, because maybe Marc had said no.

But he didn't. Chris was getting married. Chris is getting married. And that's why we're all here today, yeah? Congrats to the happy couple, all that shit. I hope you guys have a great life together. I'll have to step back, because I do a job that isn't mine every day, it's Marc's. And that job is being in love with Chris Faller."

Darren takes a deep breath, and finally, finally makes eye contact with Chris, who's watching him with a dropped jaw.

"So yeah. Chris Faller. Anyone who ends up with him is the damn luckiest person in the world, and I don't know how many times I can say that, because each time it gets more true, and it's not me. I'm nowhere near the luckiest person in the world. I know it's not my place to say this, but I was invited here, and I'm sorry for ruining the moment. But I couldn't be here, be the best man at my best friend's wedding, and not-- Not say something, because I've been keeping this in since high school, and I can't fake a smile, I can't make small talk, and I can't sit by while Chris Faller gets married to someone who isn't me. Thank you, and have a nice night, everyone."

Darren scuffs his foot on the ground and stuffs his hands in his pockets, quickly leaving the room, because he just ruined everything, and he knows it.

And suddenly, all too suddenly, everyone is flooding out, and Darren doesn't know what's happening, and Chris, where's Chris?

And then everyone's gone, and Darren never found Chris, until someone wraps their arms around him from behind and whispers, breath hot on his ear.

"It was you, Darren, it was always you."

"Was it really?" Darren can't make himself turn around and look Chris in the eyes. Chris buries his face in the back of Darren's neck.

"It was," Chris whispers, "I called everything off, even if it's too late. Marc and I will sort it out later. I told everyone to go home, it's over. I can't believe I didn't see you in front of me, all this time."

Darren finally turns around, and Chris' eyes are red and a little puffy, and Darren could say the same about himself. There's silence, dead silence, and then Chris' lips are on Darren's, and he's standing on his toes, his arms slung around Darren's neck, and everything is perfect.

Darren always thought he'd be miserable at best.

Chris Faller's wedding is the day he finds out he's wrong.