Brandon had done it. In his opinion, he had commited the perfect crime, with the perfect cover up, and he had proven the philosophy that the intellectually superior could take life, as long as it was to the intellectually inferior. People who's lives didn't matter. Was it really murder if someone of no value was lost?

Davids body was still in the trunk. It had been the centerpiece of the party, where the food was placed upon, where a tablecloth had been thrown over. Where David's body was, stuffed inside of it. Like he was trash. Something of no use, to be discarded and thrown away.

Brandon's boyfriend, Kenneth, had been manipulated into being an accomplice of the murder. Kenneth hadn't been the one who tightened the rope around David's neck, the one that led him to his ultimate demise; that was all Brandon.

Now that the party was through, everyone had left. Rupert, who used to be Kenneth and Brandon's teacher at prep school, had been increasingly suspicious of the two them throughout the night, rang.

And it sent Kenneth into a spiral when he picked up the phone and explained that it was Rupert, and that Rupert probably Kew everything.

That Rupert was lying and that he knew what Brandon and Kenneth had done and..

"You better go take him off hold." Brandon demanded. "Pick up the phone." when Kenneth refused, Brandon repeated that he needed to take Rupert off hold before slapping Kenneth across the face as harshly as he could.

It left a noticeable, slightly noticeable, pinky-red mark on Kenneth's right cheek.

And he felt zero remorse.

Brandon scoffed, pushing his way past Kenneth before walking into the hallway, approaching the front door and picking up the phone.

"I'm terribly sorry about Kenneth leaving you on hold like that, Rupert," Brandon began, "you can come over. We're not busy, please do ignore Kenneth, though. He's had a few to many drinks tonight, you know?" he chuckled.

"Anyways. I'll see you in five minutes, hm? Bye bye, now." Brandon hung up the phone, turning to Kenneth and smiling smugly.