fic: morning after
[Morning After]
Panic!, The Young Veins. Four mornings, four drabbles, four views of a break-up. 4 x 100 words.
i.
Ryan's throat was parched, burning, not from the drugs but from the words that had been building up for hours now, building up and then tearing their way out. "See, I just - if I do it now he'll always think it was because of him, because of me and him, and not because of the music or the way I want to - "
Kate sighed.
"I just don't want anyone to think that it's because of him."
Kate opened a bottle of water and handed it to him. "Isn't it?" she said, and all Ryan's words stuck in his throat.
ii.
From the back of his closet Spencer grabbed the gray pants he hadn't worn in a year. Ryan would notice. Today was the last day Spencer would have to care about that.
"Yeah, we're going to lunch," Spencer had said when Brendon asked the night before. "I mean, it's already decided, but - you know Ryan."
Brendon's mouth had twisted up and Spencer said, quickly,
"It's just - it makes it real for him, I guess."
"You don't have to explain him," Brendon said. His mouth twisted again. "Like you could, anyway."
Today was the last day Spencer would have to try.
iii.
At this hour O'Hare was almost empty, pale walls and cool air for miles. Outside the morning was already hot, but whenever Jon flew into Chicago it felt like flying into winter. Just inside the glass doors by baggage claim he stopped to count up his cash. Chicago cabbies hated credit cards.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he sighed. He wouldn't miss this shit, he thought, and got his smile ready. But when he turned all he saw was a guy wearing a plaid shirt and sunglasses inside.
"Hey," Tom said, "I think I owe you a ride."
iv.
Thin clear light crept over the hills as Brendon followed Spencer out of the studio. "You're right, you're right," he said, "we'll get breakfast, then take another run at it. They say the fiftieth time's the charm, right?"
"We're going home," Spencer said as he slid behind the wheel. "It's good enough."
After they pulled out onto the highway Brendon said, "You can tell me if it's not - it's okay, it's good if we fight it out, we have to sometimes -
"No," Spencer said, "we don't."
Brendon looked away, out the window.
"It's good enough," Spencer said, "because it's good."
Panic!, The Young Veins. Four mornings, four drabbles, four views of a break-up. 4 x 100 words.
i.
Ryan's throat was parched, burning, not from the drugs but from the words that had been building up for hours now, building up and then tearing their way out. "See, I just - if I do it now he'll always think it was because of him, because of me and him, and not because of the music or the way I want to - "
Kate sighed.
"I just don't want anyone to think that it's because of him."
Kate opened a bottle of water and handed it to him. "Isn't it?" she said, and all Ryan's words stuck in his throat.
ii.
From the back of his closet Spencer grabbed the gray pants he hadn't worn in a year. Ryan would notice. Today was the last day Spencer would have to care about that.
"Yeah, we're going to lunch," Spencer had said when Brendon asked the night before. "I mean, it's already decided, but - you know Ryan."
Brendon's mouth had twisted up and Spencer said, quickly,
"It's just - it makes it real for him, I guess."
"You don't have to explain him," Brendon said. His mouth twisted again. "Like you could, anyway."
Today was the last day Spencer would have to try.
iii.
At this hour O'Hare was almost empty, pale walls and cool air for miles. Outside the morning was already hot, but whenever Jon flew into Chicago it felt like flying into winter. Just inside the glass doors by baggage claim he stopped to count up his cash. Chicago cabbies hated credit cards.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he sighed. He wouldn't miss this shit, he thought, and got his smile ready. But when he turned all he saw was a guy wearing a plaid shirt and sunglasses inside.
"Hey," Tom said, "I think I owe you a ride."
iv.
Thin clear light crept over the hills as Brendon followed Spencer out of the studio. "You're right, you're right," he said, "we'll get breakfast, then take another run at it. They say the fiftieth time's the charm, right?"
"We're going home," Spencer said as he slid behind the wheel. "It's good enough."
After they pulled out onto the highway Brendon said, "You can tell me if it's not - it's okay, it's good if we fight it out, we have to sometimes -
"No," Spencer said, "we don't."
Brendon looked away, out the window.
"It's good enough," Spencer said, "because it's good."