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You know you love me. ( csi_trash) wrote,
@ 2007-11-16 11:43:00
What a weekend.
Who would have guessed B knew how to throw such a crazy party? And here we were under the impression he didn't even drink! If you're wondering what I'm talking about, then you either live under a rock or were one of the many girls too busy making out with G to pay attention to your surroundings. And yes, you weren't the only one, sweetie. Don't worry, now that he's on the market again, W will be more than happy to comfort you. That's right, apparently B spilled the beans about a big adultorous secret, with relationship ending consquences. Rumor has it our resident altar boy then tried to take the plunge with A but only ended up falling from grace.
Across town, R, S, and J's first gig will probably end up being their last. After waiting for thirty minutes, R stayed long enough to fumble his way through one song before sulking off the stage. Does the blatant angst mean he might bring back the eyeliner? The evening wasn't a total disaster for everyone: sources say J didn't look too upset at having to comfort a disappointed S. It's okay, J, we understand: S is a very handsome woman. Can't wait to see how this weekend's events play out come Monday morning!
Brendon sometimes wishes he was back in Vegas: there are undeniably those moments when he misses his old house and old friends and old neighborhood. Still, his desire to be back in a city three thousand miles away from New York has never been as strong as it is on Monday morning. Walking through the front doors of Clande St. Ine Prep without turning around and sprinting home requires what Brendon thinks is probably the most impressive display of self-control the world has ever witnessed.
He knows Ryan and William and Siska and Spencer and Jon and pretty much all his friends won't be on speaking terms with him, but for some reason, as he walks to his locker, it seems as if the entire school is hatefully ignoring him. It makes no sense until it does. There, taped to a classroom door, is a flyer with his picture on it and the caption, "Brendon Urie: csi_trash."
Brendon barely has time to react when a very pissed off Ryan Ross shoves another poster in front of his face. "It's actually you, isn't it," Ryan spits accusingly. "'S is a handsome woman'? You've seriously been behind this all along? How could you say all those things about Spencer and me?"
"Ryan," Brendon interrupts desperately, wondering how what he already considered the shittiest morning ever could have possibly gotten even worse. "How could that be me? I didn't know you before I got here. I don-"
"Whatever, Brendon," Ryan says bitterly. "Don't even try," and stalks off. Forget going back to Vegas, at this point all Brendon wants to do is curl up in a ball in Antarctica and die. For a few lonely moments, he considers going to the nurse's office and pretending to be sick, but he finally decides that not showing up to homeroom would ultimately be worse than the alternatives.
Eight minutes later, Brendon finds himself desperately wishing he wasn't so stupid and had just gone to the nurse's office. Instead, he's suffering through Mr. Way's attempt at solving the whole csi_trash controversy: by creating an open forum where anyone can voice their problems and apologize for what they've done wrong. The whole thing is shaping up to be just as painful and ineffective as it sounds. The room is deathly silent for a good five minutes until Gabe finally stands up and takes a deep breath.
"Ryland, I'm sorry I laughed at you that time you got diarrhea at Barnes & Nobles," he says, bowing his head repentantly. "And I'm sorry for telling everyone." There is a pause before he looks up and grins. "Oops, and I guess I'm sorry for repeating it just now." Across the room, Ryland narrows his eyes and jumps out of his seat. "Well I'm sorry I refused to roleplay Guy Ripley with you and let you-"
"Boys," Mr. Way interrupts quickly as the class dissolves into laughter. "Sit down. This is not a joke."
"I have an apology."
Brendon's stomach clenches at the voice that unmistakably belongs to Ryan. The room falls into silence again. "So, I have this friend who is a new student this year," Ryan begins slowly, standing up. "And I convinced him that it would be fun to mess up William Beckett's life. So I had him pretend to be friends with William, and then he would come to my house after and we would just laugh about all the dumb stuff William said." At this point, Brendon can feel the entire class turning to stare at him. He mentally wills Ryan to stop talking, but the enraged monotone continues.
"We tried to convince his friends that he had a myspace so they'd be pissed at him," Ryan's voice is shaking slightly now, and Brendon can't tell if it's from anger or hurt or some combination of both. "And then my friend made out with William's boyfriend and told him about how William's been cheating for ages-" Ryan stops as William abruptly gets out of his seat and slams his way out the door. Looking back, it was probably more of an attempt to escape the glares of his classmates than anything else, but before he even knows what he's doing, Brendon is on his feet and running after William.
Brendon finds William leaning against the wall outside, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips as he fiddles with a matchbook. Brendon clears his throat nervously, but William doesn't look at him, just continues scowling even as he manages to light a match. "So you crafted a little scheme to ruin my life?" he asks quietly, finally turning to glare at Brendon. "Will," Brendon interrupts, but William waves his protests away. "No, you are not allowed to speak. I can't believe you collaborated with fucking Ryan Ross of all people."
"Will, seriously-" Brendon tries, but William merely cuts him off again. "Was this some kind of game? I get that it was revenge for Ross but what the shit do you care? Seriously, Brendon, you are all kinds of fu-"
And that's when it happens. Throughout his speech, William's angry gestures had continually been bringing the lit match closer and closer to his hair. By the time Brendon has the sense to step forward and physically intervene, it's too late.
"Fuck!" William shouts at sudden stench of burning hair. "Fuck!" he yells again, his arms flailing uselessly as he stares at Brendon in horror. "Stop, drop, and roll!" Brendon yells back, dropping to his knees to rip at the grass and throw it desperately at William's head. By the time they finally manage to put the fire out, they're both panting on the floor and covered in mud.
"My hair," William finally whispers in horror, reaching up to tentatively survey the damage. Brendon hugs his knees to his chest and doesn't know how to respond. "I'm really so-" he tries, but William just glares at him before flopping back onto the ground. "Why, Delilah, why," he moans. "My social life might have just gone up in flames."
That makes two of us, Brendon thinks miserably, and closes his eyes.
You know you love me. ( csi_trash) wrote,
@ 2007-11-17 12:41:00
I don't care if I'm a guilty pleasure for you.
I know what you're all dying to hear about: G and RB's new band. Yes, it's officially happening and yes, it will rock your world. But on to the info you're actually here for: the fall out from last weekend was better than even I could have imagined. Yes, I'm talking about R's big reveal and W's ensuing hair tragedy. Turns out little B has been fraternizing with the enemy all along. The news, culminating in a fiery showdown, came before we could even finish our double-whipped sugar free capuccinos. Talk about a rude awakening! Well, B, looks like you tried to dance with the devil and got burned. Take comfort though, judging by the forest fire that took place atop W's head, you're not the only one that couldn't stand the heat.
But seriously readers, today was proof: B could never pull off what I do.
Word about Ryan's confession and William's hair debacle travels quickly and strangely unreliably. During passing periods over the next few days, Brendon hears whispered snatches of several different accounts of both events: Ryan hypnotized Brendon, Brendon and Ryan conspired to give William herpes, William turned the tables and gave Brendon herpes, Brendon took a blow torch to William's head, etc. Despite being absolutely ridiculous, the stories do succeed in Brendon the school outcast. Classes are still bearable, but the seemingly endless trips through the hallway during passing periods are pure torture. Lunch is even worse.
After four days of eating in the third floor bathroom, Brendon begins spending his lunch period in the music room instead. It's usually empty, so Brendon uses the time to practice piano and pretend like he didn't become the school pariah in the span of a single weekend. The thirty minutes of solitary piano turn out to be really relaxing, so after awkwardly running into Ryan for the fifth time on the walk home, Brendon starts staying in the music room for a few hours after school, too.
The day someone finds out about Brendon's little hideout obviously has to be the one day he absentmindendly starts playing and singing snippets of Ryan's songs. Brendon doesn't even notice there is someone else in the room until he hears a sneeze, and then he starts so badly that his knee hits the bottom of the piano with painful force. "Sorry," the sneezer says, ducking his head slightly. Brendon's never seen the man standing in front of him before, but he looks vaguely familiar. "Mik- Mr. Way left some papers here and asked me to pick them up," the man explains as an apology. "I'm his brother, Gerard."
Gerard regards Brendon for a moment before smiling warmly. "Those songs were really good. Are you in a band?" Brendon's hands freeze over the piano. He bites his lip consideringly before responding. "Kind of," he says, and hopes Mr. Way's brother doesn't notice that his fingers are shaking.
"You're super talented. Brendon, right?" He smiles again when Brendon nods in affirmation. "I think Mikey told me about you," he explains, and then looks thoughtful. "You know, I work in the music industry and I'd love to hear you guys play. Here, I'll give you my business card and you can call whenever, okay?"
"Okay," Brendon says, dazed as he accepts the proferred card. "Thanks," he adds quickly, and Gerard gives him a shy smile. "No problem. Well, um, I'm going to go see Fr-" Gerard blushes and stops. "I'm going to go. Talk it over with your band and let me know." And, with a final wave, he leaves.
"Okay," Brendon repeats stupidly into the now empty room. "I will."
Brendon ends up sprinting all the way to Ryan's house. By the time he gets there, he's panting and sweaty and a complete mess, but he pounds on the doorbell anyways. Ryan looks less than pleased when he finally answers the door, but at this point, Brendon doesn't care. Plus, the fact that he really has nothing left to lose helps.
"Mr. Way's brother," Brendon starts in a rush, "The one in the music industry, he heard me playing piano after school, I've been practicing a lot lately mostly during lu-" he stops, suddenly embarrassed. "Um, well that part isn't important. Basically, he thought I was really good and he wants to hear us, well me, but you too because I told him we were all in a band together." Brendon pauses, but Ryan just keeps staring at him silently. "I mean, you could totally relegate me to tambourine or something but this is seriously an amazing opportunity, I just," he stops and shrugs, quickly losing hope at Ryan's blank expression. "You could be famous one day," he finishes softly as an explanation.
They stand silently on opposite sides of the doorway for a long time. "You're right," Ryan finally says, barely audible. "It would be a great opportunity." He pauses and shifts, hesitant. "For us." Brendon pretends there aren't tears of relief welling up in his eyes. "That journal, it's really not me," he blurts as a response. Ryan smiles and crosses his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "I know. Adam Siska told me William put up those flyers to piss you off. And um, it's okay, you know, everything." There is another awkward pause as Brendon concentrates on blinking away his nonexistant tears.
"So," Ryan continues tentatively. "You've been in the music room during lunch?" Brendon feels his face heat. "Uh," he stalls, but can't think of reply that doesn't make him sound completely pathetic. "I looked for you in the bathroom," Ryan says into the ensuing silence, his cheeks turning slightly red. "Oh," Brendon bites down on his grin and spares them both by changing the subject. "So, um do you think Jon and Spencer will forgive me?" he asks nervously. Ryan shrugs noncommitally and brushes a strand of hair behind his ear. "But we're friends again, right?" Brendon asks, just to make sure. Ryan's expression remains impassive. "I guess," he replies stoically, but then laughs when Brendon throws himself forward and envelopes Ryan in a massive hug.
"So the Disney shirts are back," Ryan comments dryly once they've finally pulled apart. Brendon looks down at the Aladdin shirt he hadn't realized he was wearing. "Oh, yeah I guess so." Ryan looks at him for a moment before he ducks his head. "I'm glad," he says with a little smile, and Brendon can't help but agree.
Jon forgives him pretty much the moment he sees Brendon and Ryan walk into the cafeteria together. "Are we all friends again?" he asks with a huge grin that Brendon can't help but return. Ryan plays with his shirt sleeve and shrugs, but he's smiling, too. Spencer, on the other hand, doesn't seem to pleased to see Brendon, which makes it pretty awkward when Jon and Ryan leave to go buy their lunches.
"I'm really sorry," Brendon tries when Spencer remains stonily silent. "I know that Ryan's not in love with me, it was stupid to even say," he trails off when Spencer continues to look pissed. "And," he tries again after a strained moment. "I'm not, nothing's ever happened between us." He nervously runs a hand through his hair and adds quickly, "Not that, um, what I mean is nothing ever will."
To Brendon's surprise, Spencer looks even more annoyed. "Um," Brendon starts after a long silence, unsure. Spencer takes a deep breath before he interrupts. "I don't think that nothing should ever happen," he grinds out and looks immensely pained. Brendon stares. "So," he finally says, grinning slowly. "Spencer Smith. Are you saying you want me to make a move on your best friend?"
"Do you want me to never forgive you?" Spencer snaps, but Brendon just laughs. "If it makes you feel any better," he says, grinning wickedly, "I don't think that nothing should ever happen between you and one of my best friends either." Spencer looks momentarily confused, so Brendon waggles his eyebrows in Jon's general direction.
Spencer's face turns bright red. Under normal circumstances, Brendon would have teased him about it immediately and relentlessly, but Ryan and Jon choose that moment to return, and Brendon isn't that cruel. Plus, pissed Spencer is kind of terrifying. Almost as terrifying as pissed William, who seems to materialize in front of them out of thin air.
"So." William says, crossing his arms. "You're an asshole." Brendon feels Ryan tense at his side and tries not to blush. It's just kind of super cute, like Ryan is his knight in shining armor, ready to jump up in Brendon's defense and try to ward off the evil monster. Not that he'd win or anything. Even Brendon's imagination isn't that good. Whatever, it's still adorable. In a manly way.
"An asshole who burnt off all my hair," William continues, oblivious to Brendon's fairytale. "Well-" Ryan tries to argue, and this time, Brendon can't hide the blush.
"Silence." William raises a hand and frowns down at them. "Luckily, I am still hot. However, Sisky refuses to put out." He places a hand on his hip. "Luckily, I am still hot. Plus, Sisky and I were better as friends anyways. The point is, you hardly ruined my life. In fact, your little plan made my life even better." He stops and glares at them before focusing on Brendon. "I just thought I'd let you know. Also, I'm a better singer than you. Which will be obvious when your band opens for mine this weekend."
Brendon feels his jaw drop. "What?" he finally manages to articulate. William lets out a long suffering sigh. "We got a gig, and Gabe's new band was supposed to open for us but he says the world isn't ready for them yet or something, so whatever. I'll have Gabe email you the info. You asshole," he finishes as an afterthought, and then spins around and walks away.
Jon is the first to speak. "We have a gig and Gerard Way wants to hear our band? Best week ever?" Ryan frowns and turns to face Brendon. "You better show up this time," he warns. Brendon takes a deep breath and reaches for Ryan's hand under the table. "I will," he says seriously, briefly tightening his grip around Ryan's hand. Ryan looks at him with big eyes.
"Okay," a smile spreads slowly across Ryan's face. "Cool," he says, and squeezes back.
You know you love me. ( csi_trash) wrote,
@ 2007-12-07 12:41:00
Ho ho ho.
The beginning of winter means snow, two weeks of no school, and, best of all, mistletoe. Winter romance can be just as exciting as a summer fling: December is the time to embrace the season of giving, and besides, the Grinch’s heart didn’t grow three sizes in July! It certainly seems like all our favorite Clande St. Ine boys are taking the opportunity to lay one on that special someone and fling themselves, and their new Loo-Whos, head-over-heels-first into the new year.
Spotted, W, sporting a shorter and sharper hairstyle, helping G and RB design a snake logo for their new band. Looks like the cobra might happen after all. R finally getting to second base behind the bleachers. Way to take one for the team, B. Also spotted, on the corner of Denial Street and Closeted Way, S pretending not to be holding J's hand. And speaking of Closted Way, rumor has it that a certain professor's brother has been visiting campus more than usual, but I'm sure it has nothing to do with our dear principal. Well, that's it for now, devoted readers, but I'm sure there will be more to report after the concert this weekend. And if there's drama, as there always is with Clande St. Ine boys, you know I'll be there, ready to give you the inside scoop. You know you love me!
That evening, Brendon checks his email to find a message from csi_trash@livejournal.com. "Hey Brendon," he reads under his breath. "Bill asked me to forward you the concert info. See you on Sat, Gabe."
Brendon pauses for a moment, considers, and then shakes his head. "Motherfucking Gabe Saporta," he laughs to himself before he exits the browser and runs outside to where Spencer, Jon, and Ryan are waiting for him in the car.