The camera was set to record and Eric sat down at his computer in front of it. It was currently 5:30 in the morning on January 17, 2013. His hair was still spiked, his makeup smudged but still visible against his skin, even paler than normal in the dim light of the screen. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
"It's been a while since we spoke, hasn't it? If you ever thought about me after I left your house, I want you to know that I'm doing much better now. You changed my life the moment you came over and asked if I was okay. And," he paused and looked away, wiping at the inner corner of his eyes. It took the guitarist a few moments to regain composure and as he looked back at the webcam, his eyes glistened with unshed tears, his voice slightly shaky. He smiled fondly. "I miss you, always. And I never stopped thinking about you."
He gave a soft laugh. "Sometimes on the tour bus, Ben and Davey tell me that I mumble your name in my sleep....I wish I could have stayed with you longer, but I don't think your dad would have appreciated it."
Just as he opened his mouth to say something else, Ben stumbled into the room, whiskey in hand, and laughing the way that only a drunk person can. The lanky drummer slurred a hello to his bandmate and flopped onto the bed facedown.
Eric shook his head with a smile. "I think it's obvious how I feel about you, so I don't need to say it. But...I've always wanted to, and it's too bad that I couldn't tell you in person."
Again, his eyes watered and he could barely hold back a sob. "I....love you, and I wish we could be together. I'd make you the happiest you've ever been your whole life. But, I'm too old. The age gap between us is too big. And I'm so sorry about that. I wish things would have been different but..." At that point, the tears finally spilled over and Eric just let them flow freely. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this. But I promise you one thing over all the other promises I made to everyone: We will meet again someday soon."
A snore similar to the buzz of a chainsaw came from Ben and that somewhat calmed the guitarist down. He wiped the tears away again and looked back at the camera, giving it a sad, sweet smile. "I hope this little video helps you understand why I left. We'll meet again someday soon, and I hope you still like me by then. Goodnight, and thank you for everything."
He saved the video and attached it to an email. The owner of the email address made his heart ache and for just a moment he wished to be as drunk as Ben. He turned the camera off and hit 'send', afterwards turning the computer off and leaving the room quietly.
THE END