Charlie looked out in front of him and was saddened how few people had shown up. In their days bar hopping through Boystown, it seemed that Tristan knew everyone. But now, fidgeting in his black suit, asked specifically to give the eulogy, he realized he as more to Tristan than the bar bestie box that Charlie had put him in. And that was about endearing and nerve-wracking.

"Tristan was always the life of the party," Charlie began, clearing his throat, looking at the sparse group gathered at the cemetery on a cold winter day. "That may not seem like a lot, but he was always more concerned about the good time that others were having that he never really worried about what was happening with him. Most people knew him as a party boy, someone who always knew who was wearing what and when, who knew who, and who was doing what. I knew him as the one person who could make me laugh when the whole world seemed to turn its back on me. I never worried about who I was with him because I knew who I was because of him. That was his great gift. He brought out the best in people, whether he knew it or not. In trying to be everything to everyone, he became one important thing to some one. He was the sass in a room full of blah. He was the toast of a cocktail at the end of a rough day. He was a laugh despite the tears. He was all of these things at some point for all of us. He was loyal. He was a friend. He was my friend."

*

Jaison wandered away from The Bitches as they all laid flowers on Tristan's grave.

"Where are you?" he demanded via text message to Bryan.

"Um were we supposed to meet up today?" Bryan replied.

"I'm at Tristan's funeral. Where are you and all his bougie friends? Tristan loved y'all too. He was your friend."

"Oh. Something came up."

Jaison was livid. A good fuck was a good fuck, but you don't turn your back on your people, especially when they're getting put in the ground.

"You know what ho?" Jaison texted back. "Next time you wanna kick it with me and are finna text me, just know that my answer is something came up."

And Jaison deleted Bryan's number.

*

Everyone had left as the winter-spring sun began to set. Fitz stood there, watching the gravediggers fill Tristan's grave with dirt.

"We're having memorial drinks for him at The Pitstop," Hunter said as he came up behind him. "We should get going."

"This happened on my watch," Fitz said quietly.

"Did you answer the call?"

"No. That's not what I mean. This neighborhood... it's mine. I should've protected it."

"Babe, you can't be everywhere... "

"But I should've been there for Tristan, he was... "

"He as a good guy who... "

"... is the first person I knew and have had to file a report on." Fitz looked at Hunter with tears in his eyes. "I could've stopped it."

"His friends said it was some random hook up. There's no way of knowing... "

"I could've warned him. I could've told him how risky it was, how it's been happening more and more in this neighborhood."

"Would that have stopped him?"

"I dunno," Fitz said. "But it might've saved him. And it happened on my watch."

###
Just joining us? Catch up here:

Volume 1 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 2 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 3 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 4 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 5 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five

Volume 6 -
Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four, Week Five



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