"Wrong answer. Now he's dead."
Me and Hannah were standing in an old-fashioned kitchen. The back doors were propped open, and loud shouts of excitement were drifting into the house from outside.
“So you’ve probably guessed by my title,” Hannah said, flicking her hair out of her face and putting her hands on her hips, “We’re in the future. In about seven years, you will live here. Just to clarify: Panic at the Disco has broken up. You are rarely recognized by fans. Your songs haven’t been heard on the radio in about four years.”
The front door opened, then closed.
“You’re home.” Hannah informed me, jerking her head towards the sound.
The older, more mature looking version of myself walked into the kitchen. My face was more angular, my shoulders a little broader. I looked… older. Not like a rockstar, but like… a grown up.
“Dallon!” I watched myself call as I opened the fridge and pulled out a beer.
Dallon came into the house from the back door. He was wearing navy blue swim trunks, and he was dripping wet.
“Hey, honey.” He said, walking over to me. He set his hands lightly on my arms and leaned in to kiss me, his body not touching mine.
“Hey, sugar.” I watched myself respond, while carefully angling my body so that the water dripping off Dallon wouldn’t get on my suit.
When did I start caring if my suits got wet?
Hell, when did I start wearing suits?
“The kids are outside, playing in the pool.” Dallon said, stepping back.
“I figured. When’s dinner?”
“An hour, maybe?”
“Okay. I’ll be in my office.”
I watched myself leave the room. Dallon just stood in the middle of the kitchen, dripping on the linoleum, gazing after me.
Two kids ran inside, giggling, and also sopping wet. One was a girl, with long brown hair and big brown eyes. Her swim suit and floating wings were color coordinated, the pink bringing out the gorgeous color of her light brown skin. She looked about 5 or 6, and she was absolutely beautiful. The other was a little boy, who looked about 2. His navy blue trunks matched Dallon’s, and he sat down on Dallon’s foot, wrapping his limbs around Dallon’s legs.
“Where’s Daddy?” The little girl asked.
“He had some work to do before dinner, sweetheart.” Dallon said, stroking the girl’s hair.
“When will he be done?” The little boy asked.
“I don’t know.” Dallon said. “Let’s go back out to the pool!” Dallon cheered with faked enthusiasm.
Both kids ran back outside. Dallon shot another longing look towards the stairs my older self had walked up, the followed the kids outside.
“We have kids?” I asked, disbelieving, turning to Hannah.
“Yep.” Hannah said, leaning back on the counter. “A year after present time, you and Dallon moved to Long Island and got married. Panic had broken up, but you had ridiculous amounts of money. So you bought a house. After a few months, you guys decided to have kids, and found a surrogate, a Mexican lady named Adriana. You guys had Kimberly first, and she’s five now. When she was about 18 months, you took in a 13 year old foster child, a girl named Juliette. Julie is 17 now, and she’s about to start her senior year. Kevin is two, and you used the same surrogate as with Kimmie.”
“So we’re… parents?” I asked, my brows furrowing.
“Dallon is the greatest father.” Hannah said. “He cooks, and cleans, and plays with the kids, and helps them with their homework. He takes care of you, like a housewife.”
“What about me?” I asked softly.
“You work at Pete’s label. You manage several bands, but you’re resentful, because Pete was with Ryan, and because these new bands are erasing Panic off the map of well-known artists and music. You get home every day, get a beer, say hello to Dallon, ask what’s for dinner, then spend all your time in your office.”
“So I’m basically a dick?”
“Basically.” Hannah agreed.
“Fuck.” I sighed, running my hands through my hair.
“Yep.” Hannah nodded. “The best part is, that you still think about Ryan every day. You wonder what your life would be like if you were with Ryan, instead of Dallon. You love Dallon, and you love the kids, but it’s like there’s a big hole in you that needs to be filled. And the closest it’s come to being filled in the last seven years, is when you think about Ryan.”
“What about Spencer and Ian? What happens to them?” I asked.
“Ian’s in another band. You guys go to the shows when they’re in town, but it’s always a little awkward. You know how Ian feels about Dallon, and even though you know exactly what it feels like, you won’t let Dallon go.”
“You and Spencer haven’t spoken since Panic split.”
“What the fuck happened?” I asked.
Hannah held out her hand, and I took it. The room dissolved, and we reappeared in what was obviously a recording studio.
“Brendon, I can’t watch this happen again.” Spencer was saying. “I mean, with Ryan it was one thing, but now again with Dallon…” Spencer shook his head.
“So what are you saying, Spencer?” I watched myself ask. “Are you saying it’s you or him?”
“No, Bren, I-”
“I’m not going to deny myself happiness just because you’re lonely, Spencer.” I snapped.
“I would never ask you to do that, Brendon.”
“You are, right now.” I watched myself say.
“It’s not me or him, Brendon. But if you and him are together, I’m leaving the band.”
“You’re so fucking selfish, Spence!” I watched myself yell. “Dallon has made me the happiest I’ve been since I lost Ryan, and you’re asking me to end it with him for your career.”
“Yours too!” Spencer pointed out. “I’m not asking about it for the career, Bren. I’m asking you this so that I know if the last 6 years of my life have been a waste or not.”
“If me being with Dallon means that your life was wasted, then I guess that’s what it is, Spence.” I sighed.
“Whose fucking selfish now?” Spencer asked, snatching his coat off the back of a chair and storming out of the studio.
I turned to Hannah, horrified.
“You kinda turned into a dick.” Hannah said, shrugging. She held out her hand, and we went back to the hotel room, with Rue and Aaron.
“Do you know what to do?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know…” I sighed. “I… I don’t want to hurt Dallon.”
“But you know what will happen if you put aside your own feelings to protect his.” Hannah said. “You’ll both end up happier if you’re not together, I’m telling you that right now.”
“I don’t know what to do.” I admitted.”I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You still don’t know?” Hannah asked softly.
“I don’t know.” I repeated, feeling like an idiot.
“When you wake up in the morning…” Hannah started, “What will you do?”
“I don’t know…”
“Will you go talk to Spencer? Will you take Dallon to breakfast? Will you call someone?”
“I guess I’ll take Dallon out for breakfast.” I said, my brows furrowing.
“Wrong fucking answer!” Hannah exploded, and I flinched. She seized my wrist, and without the dissolving then slowly reappearing portion of the change in location that I was expecting, we were in Ryan’s living room.
“You see that?” Hannah asked, pointing towards Ryan.
He was dead. He had hung himself. A chair was on its side under him. He had his back to me, which I was thankful for. I couldn’t see his face like that.
Hannah moved over to Ryan, gently pushing his leg so that his body rotated, so he was facing me.
“No!” I screamed involuntarily.
His face was white, veins standing out harshly in contrast. His eyes were open and glassy, the life completely gone from them. Blood was trickling down his arms, dripping onto the white carpet below him. I looked closer at his arms, and saw that He had cut my name into his arm again, then “I’m sorry” into the other.
“So what are you going to do in the morning, Bren?” Hannah asked, casually leaning against Ryan’s side.
“Stop it.” I hissed, enraged.
“No. What are you going to do?” Hannah demanded.
“Shut up!” I screamed as tears started rolling down my face.
“No! What are you going to do?!” Hannah screamed back.
“I’m going to fucking save him!” I yelled.
“How?” Hannah asked at a normal volume.
“I’ll come here!”
“What are you going to tell him?”
“I’m going to tell him not to do it.”
“Wrong answer. Now he’s dead.” Hannah gave Ryan’s leg a gentle push, and his body swung back on forth on the rope.
“Stop it!” I screamed again.
“No. What are you going to tell him?” Hannah asked again.
“I’m going to tell him that there’s so much to live for! He can’t do this.”
“Wrong answer. Now he’s dead.” Hannah pushed his leg again, just as he’d stopped swinging.
I collapsed to the ground, sobbing into my hands.
“What are you going to tell him?” Hannah screamed down at me.
“I’m going to tell him that I still love him!” I screamed up at her, surprising myself. She smiled, though.
“Congratulations. You’re only almost the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”
A/N: It's starting to get good, right? Okay, so I need to be a whiny little baby for a minute. No one reviewed or rated the last chapter. I typically don't update until I get at least one review on a chapter. Since no one reviewed the last chapter, I wasn't sure if people were still reading it or not. I assumed that I didn't lose everyone in one chapter, so I updated. So, if you're reading this, please take a couple minutes to R&R, it means olot to me.
PS, the lyric for the title is from Set Fire To The Rain by Adele. If you've never heard it, youtube it, cause it's freaking amazing.