Chapter Text
“Well, that’s all he got.” Tank came back to the mostly empty room, save for the bed and built-in closet, while dabbing away the sweat on his face with a towel.
“Shitload of stuff!” Bobby offered from beside Max on the stripped mattress, voice wheezing out of breath.
The other two laughed.
“Ah, Tank, would it be a problem if i took these notebooks? They seem pretty good.”
“I told you, baby. Everything in that box is up for grabs.”
“Yeah, i get that. But, do you think Bradley would miss them?”
“What would he even do with them? He can’t have them anymore.”
“So that’s why he’s donating.” Bobby humoured.
“Either he did that or something else, he was mumbling a lot when we last spoke, i can’t recall half of it.”
“Well, thanks anyway, i’ll take them with me!”
“Make good use of them.”
At his lonesome dorm room, lacking his two friends by his side, Max decided to go through the notebooks, just to check whatever it may have been in them, since some looked fairly used.
The first one had random notes and some phone numbers underlined with “changed numbers.”
The second had half of the pages filled with drawings, and Max wouldn’t admit it out loud, but they were really good, well done, fine lines, good character design, there were even people he met! Seriously, pages from 9 to 15 are all drawings of Tank, you can’t change his mind.
It was a well loved possession, and for a second, Max felt guilty for having it. In respect, he put it away and declared that one would remain unused.
He finished putting all the blank ones inside his drawer and leaving those already claimed stashed underneath his mattress. Hiding them? No, why would he need to do that? Literally useless.
But, maaaybe P.J wouldn’t like that they were kept within their shared dormitory.
Max saw that he missed one notebook, its appearance polished, as if it were just bought, but if he looked closely, there was a veil of dust on top of the deep burgundy of its front.
Max didn’t rush to open and check it out, showering and checking for any of his father's messages way before he actually felt any curiosity towards the book.
But once he read the first page, his attention wasn't peaked, it was straight out gut-punched!
Entry n.1. 09/03/03.
“My name is Bradley Uppercrust III. I have been instructed to make some form of journaling as proof that I am being kept in line. In a week's time, this notebook will be given to my father for revision. The date is set in DD/MM/YY.”
A diary? Bradley Uppercrust had a fucking diary? This is abso-fucking-lutely hilarious!
Yeah, Max is kinda breaching the guy’s privacy, not much time after he chose not to use his drawing notebook as a way to respect said privacy, but that same guy did almost kill him. He's in his right.
Entry n.2. 10/03/03.
“I've spent the day studying.
The rule has been changed, in two months time, this journal will be revised.
I have been deemed way too “sneaky” to actually act out in only a week.
I know where this rule came from. Sadly, yes. It was my fault.
I’ll do my very best to keep myself in line.”
Well, he failed that one. Horribly so.
But wasn’t his dad the one meant to keep him in line? It said so right there, at the start ‘... proof that i’m being kept in line.’
This dude speaks way too fancy for Max to not doubt himself every new sentence.
Entry n.3. 12/03/03.
“I have been scolded for bad behavior, father instructed me to document this instance.
I spoke badly of his friends, and I’ll try to excuse myself in this situation.
We were all situated in the living room, conversing.
Suddenly, the topic of a tragedy came into light and once I gave my opinion on the matter, I was shushed for being rebellious.
I was not. I was asked a question and I answered truthfully.”
That seems kinda annoying to go through. Max never lived something like that, his dad never went ‘oh! You’re trying to take away my authority! Rebel!’
Goofy was the most gentle parent anyone could ever have, giving Max a good amount of space to speak up, even encouraging him to do so whenever needed, and if he ever felt as if he couldn’t do it, his dad’s house number wouldn’t change a digit.
A little bit embarrassing for soon-to-be college student Max, but still sweet.
Entry n.4. 09/05/03.
“I have been punished for my ungrateful attitude. My father knows what is best for me, my little act shall not be continued for it won’t be given notice.”
That one was quick, straight to the point. He really has been the attention seeking type since way before they met, huh?
When Max was going to read Entry 5, he was met with the surprise that there was none.
Weirdly enough. no pages had been ripped out, otherwise it would’ve been obvious on the hard cover journal. And there wasn’t an Entry 6 either, or 7, or 8, 9, 10. But there was a 14! And that’s good enough. Even if it doesn’t have a specified date.
Max can guess when it was written.
Entry n.14.
“I lost the X games.”
Just that.
No water wrinkles from tears. No berating Max and his friends.
Just the acknowledgement that he lost.
Entry n.15.
“My dad called and demanded I go home for a talk.”
This feels like a one sided conversation. Short and dry.
Entry n.16.
“Okay, I’ve calmed down now.
This is a laughing matter, really.
A man, of my age, getting scared of a little dad-son roughing up? My dad just wants to show me the best path in life.”
Well. Bradley seems optimistic(?), so Max should be too. That’s just what a father’s job is, prepare their kids about the future, let them learn any way they could, be it through gentle words or a harsh shove towards life.
Max let himself smile at the thought, who knows, there’s a chance that after the game, Bradley learned how to be a person? Tried getting better?
They all needed their families’ support after the incident,
Bradley is no odd,
Case.
A pencil’s messy strokes filled where an introduction would be.
Underneath it:
“Dad hit me, dad hit me, he said he wouldn’t, not after last time, dad hit me, he hit me, dad hit me.”
Max gulped his saliva on a dry throat. What the fuck, dude.
This is just fucked up. How old was Bradley, again? 20? 22? Why would his dad hit him- How could he?
And what scared him the most, though, wasn’t the prospect of a father hitting his adult son, that made his stomach hurl, actually.
But the thought that it had happened before the games too. Before Max met Bradley. Before there was any reasoning for Bradley to be punished.
His dad.
Entry n.19.
“I’m not feeling great these last few days, as if something is going to happen. People who get the wrong blood in a transfusion experience the symptom of “impending doom” before they die. But I am not going through that.”
This gave Max some violent whiplash, like, c’mon. Don't be like that.
That’s all you’re going to say after that fucking nuclear bomb of an admission?! Explain your daddy’s actions before going head first into the self-discovering!
Where was the Entry n.18? It surely had something important.
And what the fuck is up with the the random not-so-fun fact?
Entry n.20.
“Is someone going to hurt me?”
…
No entry for three pages.
If Max hadn’t seen the outline of words on the back of the last one, this would have been disconcerting.
Like, the guy was bad but he didn’t deserve to get stalked and killed..
Entry n.21.
“I am extremely unaware.
I was the one who hurt.”
“I almost killed two people. I was the ‘thing’ bound to happen.”
Max can’t really get himself to believe that was everything in this man’s head. Something is hiding behind the curtains.
Who is he to assume stuff from a diary?
Entry n.22.
“Tomorrow is my court day.”
It must have been nerve wracking.
Entry n.23.
“I was told to plead guilty and insane, they let me go for now, the case is still inconclusive.”
He did look insane that day.
Max just doesn’t think much about it.
Entry n.24.
“I’m being admitted to a Psychiatric hospital. I don’t want to go, but it’s either that or jail.”
So that’s why they were getting rid of his stuff and dormitory.
Max would never say this to their faces because it is extremely rude, but the Gamma Mu Mu fraternity needs a leader, sadly, a mean one, one that has a foot down and can scare them into the right attitude.
Those guys are nice, but they were not born for leadership, to have a loud presence without losing respect.
Bradley was just that, commanding, manipulative, intelligent, an affirming leader, and a voice dripping honey.
Of course they weren’t getting rid of him, they just couldn’t do anything for him to stay.
Entry n.25.
“I have been here for three days, in all honesty, It could be worse, I flirted with a nurse in order to use her phone and call Tank. I hope he gets rid of everything in that dorm.”
“Hello once again, this would've be another entry but it has been less than 24 hours.
I just wanted to keep it registered that the nurse was sleeping with a clinically insane patient and is now going to jail for sexual assault, and I was called to court, once again. Not my fault this time.”
...Breathe in, breathe out...
Good fucking god! What fucking dimension is this guy living in? No wonder Brad got the nurse to give him her phone, she's into mentally ill people. This is getting terrifying.
The shock of these news wore off rather quickly, his mind running wild with the information overload.
How could Max have this journal if Bradley’s room was just dismantled?
Entry n.26.
“I don’t like being here and I don’t like my therapist, he acts very judgemental towards me. And it’s no problem for me to complain, I have been deemed incapable of answering for my crimes and can’t be sent to jail, so who cares what I say? It’s all cuckoo nonsense.”
Max can envision Bradley's sassy eye roll while writing the last part.
Entry n.28.
“The therapist was telling all our conversations to my mom and dad, that’s why he felt judgemental.
Dad said I am completely stupid and a looney, that’s why he, the therapist, shouldn’t trust a word I say. Mom kept quiet.”
If Max’s mouth was gaping like a fish out of water? No. Well- Yeah- Kinda.
It's just that it all feels surreal.
“These people have many secrets and are so loud. The therapist told it all himself, and he doesn’t even know he told me.
Some call that eavesdropping. I say it’s mystery solving.”
Bradley would never say this type of thing out loud, definitely not. He found it cheeky and wrote in a place no one would see.
This clever little rhyme, you want to say it's cute, Max ignored the compulsive thought.
Entry n.29.
“The hospital fired the therapist, not because of me, though. I did not inform a soul about his malpractice.
He was giving drugs to a freshly turned 17 year old patient of his, “pretty much an adult.” he said.
Now, I may sound judgy, but I don’t think he was only enabling her addiction, after all, he was the one that destroyed his computer as soon as he learned a warrant for his arrest had taken place, not me.”
Bradley should've sued this guy into the grave.
And ew. It seems like any weirdo can become a doctor these days.
Entry n.30.
“My door neighbor and I have become increasingly close, not friends, we simply know each other.
He killed someone, he told me in "recreational" time, he was in the middle of a manic episode and his dad tried his luck, sadly, it had already run out.
Is that what I have? Am I manic?”
“Fucking what?! A whole ass murderer?! For fuck’s sake! Bradley, what the heell, man.”
Max didn’t mean to yell like that, but at every new Entry, this whole story goes from being interesting to insane. At least he was capable of quieting his voice down before he screeched for anyone to hear that he was thinking about Bradley Uppercrust.
Entry n.32.
“I have a psychiatrist, she doesn’t know who I am or my family, she seems okay.”
Max calmed down. Breathe in, breathe out.
“Well, that’s good, that’s a start.”
Entry n.34.
“I am not manic.”
“I don’t think you believe that yourself.”
Entry n.35.
“I don’t want something to be wrong with me.”
He squints his eyes at the writing. “Kinda late.”
Entry n.36.
“She told me to draw the worst thing I can remember. It came out ugly.”
“I don’t believe that.” He subconsciously cocks his head toward the mattress, where the drawing book was stashed away.
Entry n.37.
“It was psychosis.
I was put under too much pressure, all of my other problems broke through because of that. Making my brain lose connection with reality, not fun.
Good to know what’s wrong.”
There are no more entries after this one. Max closes the notebook with a blank stare.
Psychosis. Interesting thing. At least Bradley has some closure for himself, and that’s really good.
FOR BRADLEY AND BRADLEY ONLY.
“And there’s no more?! Nononono,” Max shot up from his bed and started pacing around the room, “what happened?! You didn’t tell me everything! What happened to the nurse? And the therapist? Are you talking to your dad?” He looks pointedly at the open journal, as if it would soothe his ache.
He couldn’t handle this lack of answers, there was so much more he needed to learn about Bradley, something, anything! Just to get him going for a little longer.