Oneshot Book Ft. My OCS {Open for Requests}

The Color Blue Isn't Always Nice {Brook}

Warning: Blood, otherwise that's it)

Brook had recently started to have a crush on a guy he knew. They were close, really close, actually. Though, they hadn't known each other too long. Brook was easily mesmerized by how he just even walked. He was grateful that they were there to help and support him when he came out as gay to his father.

One day, Brook was home alone. His father, was at work or cheating on his mother, Charlotte, with some hooker, more than likely. Charlotte was at therapy, which her husband didn't known about. And Brook's older sister, Zoe, was at her girlfriend's house,  'studying ' for a test they had soon in college.

Yeah, like Brook believed that..

They were probably holding kittens.

He was sitting on his floor, reading a Broadway play bill. The play bill he was reading was titled, 'Be More Chill', and it was very... entertaining.

He was really buried into, feeling as if he could see what was happening right in front of him, from Jeremy's intro to the end. Brook was grateful that his friend had given him it, being as it has been a personal possession of his.

Brook started feeling the more recent pit in his lungs growing, making him wince at the pain. Recently, he had been feeling rather weird, but pushed his worrying away, thinking it was just from bruises he'd had.

It wouldn't go away and Brook would start to feel as if he was going to throw up, gripping his chest as he ran to the bathroom. The pain was horrid, ripping, and scratching at the inside of his throat, making it difficult to breath.

Brook was throwing up, scratching slightly at his throat, trying to urge whatever was lodged in there to get out. The pain made him tear up, causing his eyes to go blurry.

He just wanted it to end. Brook wasn't even sure why he was sick. Or what he had eaten that would have gotten stuck in his throat. Maybe food had built up at the bottom of his throat? Brook didn't know.

It wasn't just in his throat, it was in his lungs. That seemed to be closer to the cause of this. That seemed to be causing, the burning, ripping, pain that tore at his senses, Brook just begging for it to stop. But that was all he could do. Beg.

Just like in most beatings he received from his father, Brook was utterly helpless . He couldn't stop puking, nor could he do anything. Anything at all to stop the pain.

And Brook hated it.

He opened his eyes to see a blur of red and blue. The puking had suddenly seized, leaving his ravaged throat behind. He wiped his eyes, trying to make sense of the blob of colors in the sink.

Brook's vision cleared, only for him to see...

Wait a minute..

"That can't be right." Brook softly muttered, looking at the sink. A fully intact blue rose sat on top. It was beautiful, but yet so sickly, floating there in the bloodied water, petals scattered around it, almost neatly.

Brook stumbled back, utter shock and heartbreak filling his small chest. He wasn't aware he had started to cry, until he had slumped against the wall, sobbing .

It hurt more than getting rejected.

Part 2?)