Prologue
I never thought I would set foot in this town again, let alone drive up that all-too-familiar street. Yet, here I was. And it was one of the hardest things I had to do.
The first time in over three years that I ran into Archer Hamilton was at Jolly Bite House, a diner right across NYU, just over five weeks ago. He seemed so happy. So full of life. He wore the same smile on his face, his eyes bright and alive and his face flushed red with excitement. He had a wonderful girlfriend and was looking forward to freshman year. Who would've guessed what he was dealing with?
"Everything changed when you guys graduated and you left for college," he had said sadly when we finally caught up for coffee a few days later. "For a while, I kept waiting for you to come back home for the holidays even though I knew that was never going to happen. I know this sounds stupid but you're one of my best friends and hope was all I had, you know."
If only I had not let my ego and heartbreak get in the way and visited home. If only I had checked on him at least once in a while and was there for him, then maybe, just maybe, I would've picked up on the early signs.
"He's changed, Harp. He's so distant and always so cold and angry," Archer had said after a while, his light eyes staring off into space and refusing to meet mine. "I can't remember when was the last time I've seen him smile."
Archer was the complete opposite of his older brother Reign. While Archer was a carefree, outgoing, popular, and athletic sibling with a huge social media following, Reign was more reserved. Sophisticated. Stoic. Reign was the type of person who would sit back and observe, only intervening when necessary. The brothers could easily pass as twins though if it wasn't for the four-year age gap between them.
I didn't think much of it when that text popped up on my phone at 1:00 AM on Thursday, just over four weeks ago when we had that conversation, when I sat hunched over my study desk writing my psychology paper that was due in the morning. Ten words. Just ten little words. 'I'm so glad I got to see you again, Harp.' It seemed so normal to be getting texts like these from your friends. Who would suspect a thing, right? Yet, I should've picked up on how odd it was that he texted me that late.
1:37 AM was when I jumped out of my seat, knocking my chair over as I grabbed my car keys and ran out of my dorm room. This time it was only three words: I love you. Those three little words are enough to send anyone over the edge with the thousand possibilities they hold.
My palms were sweaty and my heart was threatening to break free of my ribcage as I pressed my phone to my ear and frantically ran down the flight of stairs, begging and pleading the universe to allow him to answer the phone on the other end.
I made it to the frat house in five minutes. But those five minutes were a little too late when I found his lifeless body lying on the bathroom floor.
The medical report came back first thing in the morning, showing that Archer Oliver Hamilton, aged eighteen, overdosed on prescription pills and took his own life at approximately 1:35 AM.
