Cecile had been friends with Ryan forever, They need each other to survive. But sometimes even a friendship can be as vicious as a relationship.
When my parent's divorced, I was devastated, I was 13 and all I was told was that, "Things had changed." Me and my younger sister, Ashley who was 12 at the time, didn't understand how you could stop loving someone... until our mother stopped coming around. For a few months we saw her every other weekend, but she seemed so distant. I would find out years later that she was high, all the time. She stopped coming around completely for almost 6 months. That's when we'd found out she'd moved from Nevada to California without telling her own children. I stopped speaking to her after that.
My father lost the settlement battle and was forced to pay my mother $40 000, which he didn't have. I'll never understand how a mother could take so much money from the man who's raising her children.
I spent the better half of my teenage life hating life. I hid a lot of feelings from a lot of people, and although I didn't have a lot of friends, I avoided being home as much as possible. Thank god for Ryan Ross, my best friend and neighbor, who never wanted to be home when his drunken father was.
By the time I was 16 my little sister moved out to california with my mom, my older sister, who was 23, married a total scum bag and moved to New York, and my father stopped caring when I went out, when I came home, or who I was with. So Ryan and I spent days together sometimes.
I started dating Brendon Urie Just before I turned 16, over a year ago. I was at the point in the relationship where I felt like I was dating him just because I already had for so long. I do love him, But I've come to a plateau. I just can't love him anymore then I already do. I don't see a future.
"I can't believe you." Brendon shook his head, putting his shirt back on as he sat at the end of his bed. I'd spent the night at his house, like I normally would and woke up arguing with hime, like I normally would.
"You can't be mad at me because I wont have sex with you." I groaned from my pillow, still groggy and half asleep.
"I'm not mad because you wont have sex with me," He snapped, clearly frustrated, "I'm mad that we've been dating for over and year and you still have no desire to make this a real relationship."
"Sex doesn't make a relationship real." I replied.
"No but moving forward and trying to build on the relationship does. Sometimes that means taking the relationship to the next step. But you'll barely hold my hand some days." He complained, "If you don't try to make this relationship work, then it wont."
We have the same argument every other week. We're almost scripted. He's always right, though. I don't want to have sex with him. Some days, I don't want to hold his hand or even kiss him. most days, I miss our friendship.
"Maybe I don't want to make this relationship work." I mumbled. That was something I'd never confessed to him before.
"What?" He turned to look at me as I sat up.
I shrugged, "I feel like we're going no where. I've felt like that for months, Brendon. I miss when we were just friends and had fun together."
"Are you breaking up with me?"
I bit my lip for a moment, and before I could reply he was already leaving the room.
"Brendon!" I yelled after him. I got out of bed and chased him down the stairs. I grabbed his arm and turned him to face me, "You have to realize we're better off as friends."
"Like you have for months now?" He snapped, "How could you not say something? How could you keep dating me, and kissing me and telling me you love me if you don't?"
"I do love you." I assured, "But not anymore than I did when we were just friends. You have to realize how much we fight now, we never fought when we weren't dating. We don't even have fun together anymore."
"Whatever." He said, Pulling his shoes on to his feet and leaving the house.
I swore under my breath and went back up to Brendon's bedroom. I grabbed my cellphone off of the night table beside the bed and dialed Ryan's number.
After a few moments he answered, "It's too early."
"I broke up with Brendon, and he's pissed." I confessed.
"Well at least you finally did it." Ryan yawned, "He'll come around, don't worry."
"I hope so. I really don't want to lose him as a friend." I sighed.
"You wont." I could here him shuffling around on the other end, "Well, I'm all dressed. Breakfast? My treat."
"Okay, see you in 2 minutes." He joked, since I lived next door.
"I'm at Brendon's."
"Okay, see you in 10 minutes... if I can get my hunk of junk to start." He laughed, referring to his car.
I gathered all my stuff, and went to wait for Ryan down the street. Brendon's parents were due home any minute and they never approved of Brendon and I having sleep overs.
I whipped out my phone quickly and sent Brendon a text: "When you realize how much better off we are as friends, call me up."
Ryan pulled up as I put the phone back in my pocket. He leaned over and opened the passenger door since it was busted from the outside.
"Can I drive?" I asked, hopping into the passenger seat.
"If I say no every time you ask... why do you keep asking?" He smiled.
"Because one day you'll say yes and make me the happiest girl in the world." I joked.
Ryan and I had been friends since he moved in next door. I was 7, he was 8. He didn't like me at first because I was a girl, but we warmed up to each other pretty quickly. The first boy I ever noticed was Ryan. from the time I was 13 until I met Brendon when I was 16, I thought Ryan and I would end up together. That thought is gone, but sometimes I catch myself starring at him a little longer than I should, or I find my self unwillingly ending a hug with him.
"So I guess I'm not invited to band practice tomorrow." I sighed. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out.
"It's probably best if you're not there. He's gonna want to rant." Ryan shrugged. We pulled in to the MacDonald's parking lot and got out of the car.
"You look... bad." I laughed. His hair was mopped at the top, and shooting off in all different directions and his shirt was on inside out.
"You don't look like a model right now, either." He teased, "Pretty sure you were wearing that outfit yesterday."
"At least my shirts not inside out." I chuckled. He laughed too, and right in the middle of the parking lot he stripped his shirt off and put it back on the proper way, but not before I noticed the purple and brown bruise on his hip. "Ryan..." I sighed.
"What?" He asked, examining himself.
I walked over to him and lifted his shirt. Gently, I ran my fingers over the baseball sized bruise. "I wish you'd just come stay with me."
"I can't." he pulled his shirt back down, "I have to watch him, he's my father."
"Your father shouldn't be treating you like that." This subject always got me upset. Ryan wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me in to a hug. He always flinched when we hugged, from a new bruise or cut he'd gotten from his father. He stopped showing them to me so I wont get upset, he assures me that everything is fine, but every once and awhile, Like today, I get a glimpse into the home of Ryan Ross.
"You don't have to worry about me." He assured, "Everything's fine."
As he spoke, I mouthed the words along with him. It was a line I'd heard often from him and I reluctantly believed him. He pulled away from me and we walked in to MacDonald's silently. If I feel this helpless watching him be beaten up by his father, I could only imagine how helpless he feels.