I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive...12/?
When we walked into class on Monday, we both sat down at our respective desks and said absolutely nothing to each other.
I...don’t know really what had happened to me on Saturday.
I was just different. Maybe even indifferent.
I don’t know why I’d acted like I did. Why I’d said that.
Actually, it was the way I’d said it.
And he...well, anybody would’ve taken it the wrong way, and I was just plain confused. With what I felt, with everything that had happened in the last week, with myself; it was all messing with my head.
Stupid, stupid, you’re an idiot Brendon Urie, and you don’t deserve to keep living, the way you treated him...it wasn’t even like it was that bad, I might’ve even...enjoyed it...
I could feel the somewhat shocked stares of our classmates from all over the room. I knew then that what I’d said was true.
Everything went completely silent for a moment, and then the noise started to drone in my ears, the angry buzz of gossip.
I hadn’t been around long enough for us to be ignored. I hated it.
If I could, I would have tried to make everything better right then and there.
If he wasn’t avoiding me in every way possible, I would’ve tried to make it better.
If I could look him in the eye.
If, if, if, if, if, if, if, if.
----
I shoved myself out of my seat as soon as the bell rang for lunch, slouching off to find Jon and Spencer at what they had claimed as ‘our table’.
They both looked up at me concernedly as I plonked myself down next to Jon, folding my arms on the table and resting my head on them.
As far as I knew, Ryan was still staying at Spencer’s house, because Spencer wouldn’t let him go home. From what he’d told me about his home, I was surprised he’d want to.
“Bren?” Spencer’s tentative voice met my ears. At least he was talking to me; I might still have one friend in this godforsaken place.
“Is - is now a good time?”
I lifted my head up to glare at him. “Do I have any choice?”
He sighed and looked sorrowfully at me. “Look, Brendon, I know that whatever happened wasn’t good, and -”
“Spence, please,” I cut him off wearily. “It’s fine.”
“The hell it is!” he said angrily. “What happened?”
“Alright, you know what?” I growled, my face twisting into a snarl. “I don’t care. I don’t care what the hell he thinks, what he thinks of me, what happened, because I don’t give a damn!”
Several people turned around to look at me as I pushed myself away from the table, running out of that place as fast as I could.
I slumped down against the wall of a cubicle in the toilets, feeling the hot tears drip down my cheeks.
I was no longer indifferent.
A torrent of emotions raged through me, completely screwing with my head, and I just let them consume me, destroying any self-control I had left.
It was bliss, to just let go.
But I now knew what I felt.
I wanted him, so badly, and you would’ve thought, going merely by what he did, that he wanted me back, but he...he can’t have.
It must have just been something he’d done to distract me from what I’d been saying at the time, to shut me up.
The way he averted his eyes...it was like I didn’t even exist.
I think, at that moment, I hated myself. I would’ve done anything to end it, end my misery, but I was too much of a coward.
What is wrong with me?
~Ryan~
Weeks passed.
In all that time we barely spoke a word to each other, and I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.
I loathed walking into class and seeing the smug smiles of all my classmates, like they knew what had happened between me and Brendon.
Like they were getting me back for pushing them away, so long ago.
Whenever I went home after school, to Spencer’s, I’d simply lay on my bed, answering any direct question that Jon or Spencer gave me, but otherwise I just stared blankly at the ceiling.
I wanted to go home, in the hope that my parents might finally kill me, but Spence wouldn’t hear of it.
He was good, Spencer. Yet he confused me too.
Only last week had he come over all touchy-feely, and now he did his utmost not to touch me.
I felt like I owed him something though, something that meant I couldn’t just go off with Brendon if I’d been able to.
Sometimes I wondered what Brendon was doing at that moment, what he was thinking. I wondered then whether that was a bad idea.
I felt so, so stupid.
I’ve known him one goddamn week, and I go and do something like that? I’m the older one, by rights I’m supposed to be more mature, and still...I’m such an ass...
All I wanted to do was fix it, heal the wound that I’d torn in both of us.
Every day at school it hurt that little bit more, every day I avoided his eyes so I wouldn’t have to see whatever emotion, disdain, disgust, that had replaced the friendship that I remembered seeing, and clung to desperately, to keep me sane.
And every day, I got thinner.
My face was starting to lose some of its babyish roundness. I knew I wasn’t eating well. My body was a mess from everything I’d done to myself.
And you know what?
I didn’t care.
~Brendon~
Ryan was wasting away.
His already thin frame grew more stick-like as the days went on. I think he was anorexic.
I could tell, though I tried to avoid looking at him in that way, but...I wasn’t sure why.
It always ripped another hole in my chest, deeper every single time.
----
“Bren?” Spencer’s voice met my ears softly, as though he were trying not to startle me. “I need to talk to you.”
“What about?” I mumbled, without looking up. His voice was kind though, and I knew I wasn’t about to be told off.
“About Ry,” he whispered, and he looked so tired, so weary, that it made me want to hug him. So I did.
He took me to a quiet corner of the school grounds and explained everything that had happened since I had come to this school, and why.
Finally I understood.
It wasn’t what I’d done; it was what he’d done.
----
Everything seemed to make sense suddenly, in a weird, illogical way.
I couldn’t not do something about it, so after the fifth week, I made up my mind.
Before it had seemed like I couldn’t go anywhere without catching a glimpse of him; now it was as though he walked around invisible, though Spencer and Jon assured me he was at school.
At last I caught sight of him, at the end of school on Friday, and I ran toward him, calling, “Ryan!”
He turned, and the expression on his face was so shocked it made me want to cry.
“What?” he asked, his voice utterly devoid of any emotion.
My brain was screaming at me, run away while you still can, you retard, but I ignored it. I’d made up my mind.
I didn’t know how I’d be received; I didn’t care if he pushed me away, if he even yelled at me, I just wanted the chance to tell him...
He stood stock-still as I ran up and threw my arms around him, pressing myself against him so hard that I could feel how bony he’d become, every rib...
Ryan froze for a moment, then melted against me completely and wrapped his arms around my torso, pushing me even harder against him.
I didn’t care how it looked.
He sobbed into my shoulder, and I think I was forgiven then, either that or he had never hated me in the first place.
I’d find out.
I practically dragged him back to Spencer’s, but I never let his body lose contact with mine, because I think he might’ve fallen over if I had, whispering words of comfort in his ear as we walked.
He was fully crying by the time I’d pushed him through the door, yelling a hello to Spencer’s mom, before forcing him up the stairs and into Spencer’s room, locking the door behind us.
Then I sat him down and told him everything.
----
Spencer had taken me to that deserted little corner of school that lunchtime and said, “Don’t be angry at what I’m about to tell you, please?”
I’d nodded, and he’d continued, “When he first met you, that first day, he told me about you after school...I - I hassled him about you, because of what he - said about you...”
I’d sighed and nodded, and he’d said, “What I’ve done is so stupid, but I wanted to try it to see if it worked. It was a long shot, but I - I wanted to see if I could get you two together...”
He’d blushed furiously, as had I.
“I - remember that day at the movies, when I hugged him?”
I’d smiled slightly, remembering that day. It seemed so long ago.
“That was the start of it. What - what I was trying to do was -” He’d taken a deep breath.
“I pretended to like him...I knew he didn’t like me in that way, never had, so I wondered if it’d work...I know it’s cruel.”
I’d stared at him, shocked into silence. His blue eyes looked so sad, troubled.
“I think...I think it confused him,” he’d said, biting his lip. “When I tried to kiss him...when I ditched class, and that wasn’t even to do with that, I - I had a headache -”
I’d frowned. The way he’d said that...it made me think it wasn’t completely the truth.
“- it just messed things up, even though it pushed you together like I wanted, and he seemed so happy whenever he was with you -”
My throat started to close up, hearing those last words. I’d so wished they were true right then.
He’d sunk to the ground dejectedly, and I’d sat next to him. He’d never come across as the type of person who’d...
“But...” I’d been so unsure that he was telling the truth. “You cried! Your eyes were all red and puffy!”
“A little water,” he’d said dismissively, as though that were unimportant. “I wanted to do it properly.”
“I...” he’d begun, looking at me hesitantly. “Ryan’s never had anyone. Not in that way. He’s had me, but everyone else who wanted to know him, he pushed away. I knew why they wanted to but he could never get it into his head.”
“You didn’t even know whether I was gay!” I’d said indignantly, moving away from him.
Yeah, and neither did I, up until recently, that negative little voice in my head growled.
I was shocked at admitting it, even to myself.
He’d smiled sadly. “It was a risk I had to take. I’ve hated seeing him lonely for so long, and I’d do anything for him.”
“You do know,” I’d muttered, trying to get my head around what he’d been telling me, “that this could’ve gone so badly wrong in so many ways, and it did.”
I hadn’t thought people could even come up with stuff like that, it was so ridiculously implausible. But apparently, Spencer could.
“I hate you so much right now,” I’d said bitterly. He’d nodded understandingly and said, “Please. It’s my fault, but I want you to make things better between you -”
I’d started to interrupt but he ran across me.
"I don't care what you do. Just make it better."
Hahahaha. Okay, that wasn't actually all that funny, I'm actually laughing at how lame my writing is at this stage. Oh well. But still, I need some feedback. Because I'll go mad otherwise.
I...don’t know really what had happened to me on Saturday.
I was just different. Maybe even indifferent.
I don’t know why I’d acted like I did. Why I’d said that.
Actually, it was the way I’d said it.
And he...well, anybody would’ve taken it the wrong way, and I was just plain confused. With what I felt, with everything that had happened in the last week, with myself; it was all messing with my head.
Stupid, stupid, you’re an idiot Brendon Urie, and you don’t deserve to keep living, the way you treated him...it wasn’t even like it was that bad, I might’ve even...enjoyed it...
I could feel the somewhat shocked stares of our classmates from all over the room. I knew then that what I’d said was true.
Everything went completely silent for a moment, and then the noise started to drone in my ears, the angry buzz of gossip.
I hadn’t been around long enough for us to be ignored. I hated it.
If I could, I would have tried to make everything better right then and there.
If he wasn’t avoiding me in every way possible, I would’ve tried to make it better.
If I could look him in the eye.
If, if, if, if, if, if, if, if.
----
I shoved myself out of my seat as soon as the bell rang for lunch, slouching off to find Jon and Spencer at what they had claimed as ‘our table’.
They both looked up at me concernedly as I plonked myself down next to Jon, folding my arms on the table and resting my head on them.
As far as I knew, Ryan was still staying at Spencer’s house, because Spencer wouldn’t let him go home. From what he’d told me about his home, I was surprised he’d want to.
“Bren?” Spencer’s tentative voice met my ears. At least he was talking to me; I might still have one friend in this godforsaken place.
“Is - is now a good time?”
I lifted my head up to glare at him. “Do I have any choice?”
He sighed and looked sorrowfully at me. “Look, Brendon, I know that whatever happened wasn’t good, and -”
“Spence, please,” I cut him off wearily. “It’s fine.”
“The hell it is!” he said angrily. “What happened?”
“Alright, you know what?” I growled, my face twisting into a snarl. “I don’t care. I don’t care what the hell he thinks, what he thinks of me, what happened, because I don’t give a damn!”
Several people turned around to look at me as I pushed myself away from the table, running out of that place as fast as I could.
I slumped down against the wall of a cubicle in the toilets, feeling the hot tears drip down my cheeks.
I was no longer indifferent.
A torrent of emotions raged through me, completely screwing with my head, and I just let them consume me, destroying any self-control I had left.
It was bliss, to just let go.
But I now knew what I felt.
I wanted him, so badly, and you would’ve thought, going merely by what he did, that he wanted me back, but he...he can’t have.
It must have just been something he’d done to distract me from what I’d been saying at the time, to shut me up.
The way he averted his eyes...it was like I didn’t even exist.
I think, at that moment, I hated myself. I would’ve done anything to end it, end my misery, but I was too much of a coward.
What is wrong with me?
~Ryan~
Weeks passed.
In all that time we barely spoke a word to each other, and I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.
I loathed walking into class and seeing the smug smiles of all my classmates, like they knew what had happened between me and Brendon.
Like they were getting me back for pushing them away, so long ago.
Whenever I went home after school, to Spencer’s, I’d simply lay on my bed, answering any direct question that Jon or Spencer gave me, but otherwise I just stared blankly at the ceiling.
I wanted to go home, in the hope that my parents might finally kill me, but Spence wouldn’t hear of it.
He was good, Spencer. Yet he confused me too.
Only last week had he come over all touchy-feely, and now he did his utmost not to touch me.
I felt like I owed him something though, something that meant I couldn’t just go off with Brendon if I’d been able to.
Sometimes I wondered what Brendon was doing at that moment, what he was thinking. I wondered then whether that was a bad idea.
I felt so, so stupid.
I’ve known him one goddamn week, and I go and do something like that? I’m the older one, by rights I’m supposed to be more mature, and still...I’m such an ass...
All I wanted to do was fix it, heal the wound that I’d torn in both of us.
Every day at school it hurt that little bit more, every day I avoided his eyes so I wouldn’t have to see whatever emotion, disdain, disgust, that had replaced the friendship that I remembered seeing, and clung to desperately, to keep me sane.
And every day, I got thinner.
My face was starting to lose some of its babyish roundness. I knew I wasn’t eating well. My body was a mess from everything I’d done to myself.
And you know what?
I didn’t care.
~Brendon~
Ryan was wasting away.
His already thin frame grew more stick-like as the days went on. I think he was anorexic.
I could tell, though I tried to avoid looking at him in that way, but...I wasn’t sure why.
It always ripped another hole in my chest, deeper every single time.
----
“Bren?” Spencer’s voice met my ears softly, as though he were trying not to startle me. “I need to talk to you.”
“What about?” I mumbled, without looking up. His voice was kind though, and I knew I wasn’t about to be told off.
“About Ry,” he whispered, and he looked so tired, so weary, that it made me want to hug him. So I did.
He took me to a quiet corner of the school grounds and explained everything that had happened since I had come to this school, and why.
Finally I understood.
It wasn’t what I’d done; it was what he’d done.
----
Everything seemed to make sense suddenly, in a weird, illogical way.
I couldn’t not do something about it, so after the fifth week, I made up my mind.
Before it had seemed like I couldn’t go anywhere without catching a glimpse of him; now it was as though he walked around invisible, though Spencer and Jon assured me he was at school.
At last I caught sight of him, at the end of school on Friday, and I ran toward him, calling, “Ryan!”
He turned, and the expression on his face was so shocked it made me want to cry.
“What?” he asked, his voice utterly devoid of any emotion.
My brain was screaming at me, run away while you still can, you retard, but I ignored it. I’d made up my mind.
I didn’t know how I’d be received; I didn’t care if he pushed me away, if he even yelled at me, I just wanted the chance to tell him...
He stood stock-still as I ran up and threw my arms around him, pressing myself against him so hard that I could feel how bony he’d become, every rib...
Ryan froze for a moment, then melted against me completely and wrapped his arms around my torso, pushing me even harder against him.
I didn’t care how it looked.
He sobbed into my shoulder, and I think I was forgiven then, either that or he had never hated me in the first place.
I’d find out.
I practically dragged him back to Spencer’s, but I never let his body lose contact with mine, because I think he might’ve fallen over if I had, whispering words of comfort in his ear as we walked.
He was fully crying by the time I’d pushed him through the door, yelling a hello to Spencer’s mom, before forcing him up the stairs and into Spencer’s room, locking the door behind us.
Then I sat him down and told him everything.
----
Spencer had taken me to that deserted little corner of school that lunchtime and said, “Don’t be angry at what I’m about to tell you, please?”
I’d nodded, and he’d continued, “When he first met you, that first day, he told me about you after school...I - I hassled him about you, because of what he - said about you...”
I’d sighed and nodded, and he’d said, “What I’ve done is so stupid, but I wanted to try it to see if it worked. It was a long shot, but I - I wanted to see if I could get you two together...”
He’d blushed furiously, as had I.
“I - remember that day at the movies, when I hugged him?”
I’d smiled slightly, remembering that day. It seemed so long ago.
“That was the start of it. What - what I was trying to do was -” He’d taken a deep breath.
“I pretended to like him...I knew he didn’t like me in that way, never had, so I wondered if it’d work...I know it’s cruel.”
I’d stared at him, shocked into silence. His blue eyes looked so sad, troubled.
“I think...I think it confused him,” he’d said, biting his lip. “When I tried to kiss him...when I ditched class, and that wasn’t even to do with that, I - I had a headache -”
I’d frowned. The way he’d said that...it made me think it wasn’t completely the truth.
“- it just messed things up, even though it pushed you together like I wanted, and he seemed so happy whenever he was with you -”
My throat started to close up, hearing those last words. I’d so wished they were true right then.
He’d sunk to the ground dejectedly, and I’d sat next to him. He’d never come across as the type of person who’d...
“But...” I’d been so unsure that he was telling the truth. “You cried! Your eyes were all red and puffy!”
“A little water,” he’d said dismissively, as though that were unimportant. “I wanted to do it properly.”
“I...” he’d begun, looking at me hesitantly. “Ryan’s never had anyone. Not in that way. He’s had me, but everyone else who wanted to know him, he pushed away. I knew why they wanted to but he could never get it into his head.”
“You didn’t even know whether I was gay!” I’d said indignantly, moving away from him.
Yeah, and neither did I, up until recently, that negative little voice in my head growled.
I was shocked at admitting it, even to myself.
He’d smiled sadly. “It was a risk I had to take. I’ve hated seeing him lonely for so long, and I’d do anything for him.”
“You do know,” I’d muttered, trying to get my head around what he’d been telling me, “that this could’ve gone so badly wrong in so many ways, and it did.”
I hadn’t thought people could even come up with stuff like that, it was so ridiculously implausible. But apparently, Spencer could.
“I hate you so much right now,” I’d said bitterly. He’d nodded understandingly and said, “Please. It’s my fault, but I want you to make things better between you -”
I’d started to interrupt but he ran across me.
"I don't care what you do. Just make it better."
Hahahaha. Okay, that wasn't actually all that funny, I'm actually laughing at how lame my writing is at this stage. Oh well. But still, I need some feedback. Because I'll go mad otherwise.