Chapter 46

As the sun dawns over the horizon, throwing a light streak over the hotel room carpet I finally get up from the corner of the bed I have been sitting on. I walk past where the tv is standing with the pill I was given last night to help me sleep, but which I felt I could not take.

As quietly as I possibly can I open up the glass door that walks out on the small balcony overlooking the back gardens of the hotel, breathing in the fresh air as I walk out, feeling the breeze against my still bare chest with the streaks of dried blood to be seen on it here and there. I close the door just as silently behind me, hoping that E.J. won't hear the door and wake up from the sleep that makes him look like a small innocent boy who has never seen any trauma in his life.

It doesn't seem quite possible that everything in the rising sun looks so normal while everything that happened last night changed the course of history for a lot of people forever.

I open my phone, and Google the latest news.

I click on the first article and read.

Gunman kills 14 at LGBTQ nightclub in California

A 24-year-old gunman entered a LGBTQ nightclub, Check Mate in California, posing as a normal patron, just past 10pm on Saturday, later opening fire, killing at least 14 people and injuring 21 others, before fleeing the scene, police said in the early hours of Sunday morning.

The suspect in the shooting at Check Mate was identified as Derick Henderson, according to the local Police Chief. He used an automatic rifle in the shooting and two firearms were found at the scene, the Police Chief said.

The suspect was apprehended while attempting to flee the scene, along with three possible accomplices. The four have been arrested.

Police said they are investigating whether the attack was a hate crime and noted Check Mate's relationship with the LGBTQ community.

In a statement on social media, Check Mate said it was "devastated by the senseless attack on our community" and thanked the Police for their "swift and personalized help in such a tragic situation". The statement went on to say, "We are grieving together with the families and friends of the victims" while noting, "it is with great sadness that we also say goodbye to a fabulous longstanding performer Lady Lalaland, who will leave a huge loss in our hearts and our stage". The club's website says it will be closed until further notice.

I stop reading the article at this point, closing the window on my phone and looking up into the air, finally changing to a light blue above me. It feels unreal to read the words like that, not conveying any feeling or emotion of what really happened. It's so impersonal that a reader will never know how it really played off. How half an hour was stretched into what felt like days. How by the time the bodies were being removed and our statements had been taken by the police, we were emotionally to tired that we physically could not cry anymore. The journalist writing and the people reading the article will never know about what led up to us being in that club, and how what should have been a fairy tale turned into a nightmare. How in the aftermath, Will needed to be pulled away from Cameron's body by force as he screamed and fought until he was sedated by a paramedic who feared together with us that Will might hurt himself. After that we were allowed to come home and bring him with us. The police asked that he needed to come to the station today to give his statement, which I think is just cruel. Nobody that went through what we have been through should have to recount every single detail within an hour of it happening. Living through it was enough. Reliving it was absolute hell.

My phone starts vibrating in my hand, and I answer quickly without looking before the tone can start playing, potentially waking E.J.

"Brody," I answer.

"Hallo Brody, this is Doctor Jensen speaking," the voice comes from the other side making me sigh.

"I'm really not up for talking right now," I answer honestly. The last thing I want to deal with is my grandmother and again being asked to go and see her. "I've had a bit of a bad night."

"I'm really sorry Brody, but it just can't wait. I'm very sorry to tell you that your grandmother passed away about an hour ago. She went peacefully in her sleep," Doctor Jesen says. "I am very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you for letting me know," I answer. "Is that all?"

"Not quite. There's the question of her body, and off course her burial. I am sure someone will be calling you later today, and..."

"Can I stop you there please," I cut him off. "If you go online and Google the mass shooting at the California club last night, you will understand. I was in the club and a very dear friend of mine was shot and died. I honestly can't deal with this today."

"Oh Brody..." Doctor Jensen answers. "Of course I have heard about it. My condolences to you on your loss. I am so sorry to have had to add to it."

"It's okay," I answer. "You're just doing your job."

"Still," he says. "The best I can do is try and handle things on this side for you, and ask the funeral director and lawyer not to contact you until tomorrow? It's not a big town. I know them both personally."

"You would do that?" I ask.

"Of course. Please get some rest, and please give me a call as soon as you are up to it. I will try and stall for as long as I can," Doctor Jensen answers.

When I end the call I feel empty as I allow the tears to run over my face for what seems like the hundredth time in the past twelve hours. It's not like I liked her, knew her, or even wanted to ever see her again, but the idea of me being truly alone in the world with no family that I know about somehow seems extra lonely standing here on the balcony. And I know when everyone is awake and the say starts I probably won't tell anyone about her death at all.

The phone vibrates in my hand again, and again I answer without checking who is calling.

"Brody?" I say as I wipe my tears away, already getting ready to stand strong for whatever could be the matter now.

"Sugar, it's Grace. I was wonderin' if you're up already? Will woke up a while ago. He's fixin' up to take a shower now, and then we asked if he can talk to all of us," Grace says. She sounds tired, as if like me she didn't sleep a wink, also refusing the pills given to us.

"E.J. is still asleep. I kinda don't really want to wake him up right now," I answer. "I really do think it is better if he gets as much sleep as possible. I think last night brought back a lot of memories for him. He had to witness his stepfather commiting suicide not that long ago."

"Oh goodness sugar. Nobody ever told me 'bout that. Maybe just let him sleep, and we can all have a talk about how everythin' is going to hell in a handbasket," Grace answers, and although I wish she wasn't here to have had to deal with all of this, I am also thankful that she is here with us.

"Should I come over to your room?" I ask, knowing it is where she took Will last night so that she could keep an eye on him.

"No. Will asked that we meet downstairs in the coffee shop," she answers. "And just a warnin' sugar. Will is not hisself. He's worn slap out, but he is treatin' everythin' like nothin' happened at all. I think it's how he is dealin' with it all."

"I understand," I answer. "I just also need to take a shower and then I will be right down."

"Thanks sugar. See you in a lick," she answers as she ends the call.

I almost don't feel the heat of the water splashing against my back as I watch the first of the water, tainted with a slight red going down the drain, almost feeling guilty about it. It literally feels like I am washing a bit of Cameron away.

When I am finally dressed in whatever was in the top of my backpack, I make sure that E.J. is still sleeping soundly before I leave the room as quietly as I can and make my way down to the coffee shop.

I spot Grace and Will at a table in the far most corner. They both look like hell. Will didn't bother to dry his hair, and looks like he climbed out of a laundry basket with his wrinkled up shirt. Grace who usually looks like she has stepped off a magazine cover is dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, which I am guessing belongs to Will.

"Morning," I say, and after I have greeted both of them with a hug I sit down.

For a few minutes we don't talk as the waiter takes our order. Two coffees for Will and Grace, and a guava juice for me. Not one of us feel like having something to eat.

"Are you okay?" I ask Will, fighting the urge to take his hand. His eyes are still red and puffy, as if he hadn't slept at all, and I can only imagine what happened when he was finally alone, taking his shower.

"I'm okay," he answers. "There's just quite a few things to arrange. I had to speak to Cameron's mother earlier."

"Poor woman was distraught," Grace mentions, shaking her head. "Can't imagine what the poor sugar is going through at this moment. And she and Cameron had been estranged for quite a while now."

I nod. I've assumed something like that, but I've never quite had the courage to ask. I always figured that Cameron would tell me whenever he felt comfortable doing so.

"I've told her that I would arrange everything. We've decided to cremate Cameron as soon as possible," Will says. It's almost like he is talking about someone else than Cameron. He seems almost too cool and calm.

"Will the service be in his hometown, or back at your place?" I ask, knowing that I have a service to plan myself.

"His mother wants to host a service of remembrance back in his hometown. She's off course entitled to do so. But before the wedding day Cameron and I had a prenuptial agreement done. Together with that Cameron as I both did our wills as well as a living will. The moment Cameron passed, I became in control of what happens to him, and I will ensure his wishes are brought to fruition," Will answers. "So I have made a decision. I will stay here until after the cremation. Grace will go home. So will you and E.J. I'd like some time to myself, and I don't see myself having a service for Cameron anytime soon."

"You can't stay here alone," I say. "This is the time when you need friends and family around you."

"Brody is right sugar. This is not a time to be alone," Grace interjects as well.

"It's not up for discussion Grace," Will answers. "What I need right now is to be alone. And I need all of you to go home for now. I have taken up enough of everyone's time and effort. It's my fault we are here in the first place. I'd like to spare all of you any further trauma. This is my cross to bear."

"You can't be serious Will," I answer. "We want to be here for you. We really want to stand by you. Nothing of this is your fault, and you know that."

"Brody, I don't mean to be nasty, but I'd like for you to leave. And I would like to be alone. I need to be able to say goodbye in my own way, okay?" Will says, his voice finally breaking a little bit as I watch him swallow hard against the tears. "There will be a service. Later. Much later. I'm just not up for it at the moment. For now I'd like to stay and assist the police where I can. I'd like to make arrangements with Cameron's RV and his belongings. And I need to spend some time just... Just saying my goodbye in my own way."

"Are you sure sugar?" Grace asks reaching out her hand to him, which he takes and squeezes tightly. "If you really want me to go I will, but you know I am only a plane ride away. I'll be back here as soon as I can."

"Thanks Grace. I would appreciate that. Maybe you could drive back with the SUV? I think I'd like to bring the RV home myself," Will says, his tears finally winning the battle.

"Whatever you need sugar, but I do wish you will let me stay, if only another day or two," Grace answers as she pulls him into a sideways hug.

"This is what I need from you. And I will be okay. I just need to do this on my own," Will answers between the tears. "I love you both. And E.J. as well. I just need a bit of time, and then we can all get together to say goodbye. But for now I just need it to be just Cameron and me."

I nod.

I get it. I might not fully understand it, and I might want to stay by Will's side no matter what, but I can respect his decision.

"Would you like me to go back with Grace? We can wait for you at home?" I ask.

"I'm not sure when exactly I'm gonna return home. I might take some time. I don't think I am ready to go back to where everything that reminds me of what could have been is waiting," Will answers. "So there is no use in waiting. I might take a few days, or a few weeks. I will go home eventually, but right now, I just need it to be Cameron and me. Maybe we will take that roadtrip we always spoke about."

I nod again. Maybe I do understand what he is trying to do.

"Well, if you need me I am just a plane ride away," I mimic Grace's words.

"Thanks Brody," he says taking my hand as well, squeezing it tightly. "It's amazing to have people like you in my life. Just promise me one thing?"

"Anything," I answer.

"Don't sweat the small stuff. And don't waste time. You never know how much time you have left with the ones you love."

Will smiles at me, and I think I know exactly what he means.