Ryan meets Nevada
"Go cry, emo boy! Go write more songs about guns and brides!"
As soon as he'd gotten back to the bus, he'd cut off all his long hair and styled it so he didn't look as 'emo'. His songs had deep meaning; no one seemed to get that. He still remembered that night, when he was 16, his dad's shotgun in his hand, the temptation...his mind snapped back to reality when he heard a choked sob coming from behind the portable outhouse. He looked up; nothing. But he definitely heard a sobbing coming from the darkness. He poked his head around the corner; a petite girl with black hair sat with her head on her knees, sobbing.
"Are you ok?" Ryan whispered softly, kneeling down beside her.
She looked up a little bit; emo bangs fell into her eyes, and her face was tearstained.
"Y-yes." She sniffled.
"Then why are you crying?"
"M-my fiancÃ© just broke off the wedding..."she said, her voice trembling.
"Who's your fiancÃ©?" Ryan inquired, putting his arm around the small girl.
"Mark...he's a roadie for The Academy Is..." she explained.
"Oh...why did he break off the wedding?"
"He said we were too young to get married...but really, he's cheating on me." She said, and began crying again.
"How old are you?"
"That is kinda young. I'm only 19."
The girl looked up at him; her eyes were filled with sudden surprise.
"You're Ryan from Panic! At the Disco." She breathed.
"Yeah." He sighed
She laughed halfheartedly.
"Sorry, you must get that a hundred times a day. I should be used to celebrity bands by now, Mark's worked for Fall Out Boy, Less than Jake, My Chemical Romance..."
"Wow, why so many?"
"He's an asshole, he always gets fired. You think I'd get the hint when Pete Wentz punched him, but I was so...naÃ¯ve..." and she lowered her head again and kept crying.
"We all make mistakes in relationships..." he said, and Miranda flashed through his mind...that shotgun again...
"Well, I made the ultimate mistake. I walked in on him and the girl he was cheating with..."
"That's not your fault."
"I slapped him, and then I slapped her." She whispered.
Ryan couldn't help but laugh.
"Good for you."
She looked up at him and smiled weakly.
"What's your name?" he asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes and handing her a crumpled tissue from his coat pocket.
"Nevada." she replied, wiping her eyes.
"That's an original name."
"Not really. Guess where I was born." She laughed, and Ryan joined in.
"What are you doing out here...no glamorous after-show parties or chicks waiting in your bedroom?" she asked after the laughter died down.
"Um, no, just three pissy band members. The four of us share one bunkroom, no chicks in there. We aren't aloud in most of the after show parties, they have alcohol."
"I see. Why are they pissy?"
They were silent for a moment.
"Do you want to go get something to eat? I'm starving." Ryan finally asked.
"Yeah, sure." Nevada stood up, and Ryan saw she was petite indeed; nearly six inches shorter than he was. The two of them headed for the small make-shift cafÃ© that was set up in the camp, which was really more of a mess hall for bands that didn't have a kitchen in their vans. They sat down at one of the small tables and a waitress came to take their order. Finally, they sat with cups of weak coffee and a tune fish sandwich apiece.
"So...you're from Nevada?" Ryan began pathetically.
"Yeah. Las Vegas."
Where've you been all my life? Thought Ryan.
"I know you're from Vegas. When I heard a local band managed to get a record deal, I was first in line at the record store on my street to buy a copy. I love you guys." She smiled shyly.
"Oh...you aren't a Fall Out Boy fan?"
"I am. But I like you guys, too. That's the reason I bought tickets to your show tomorrow...I've already seen Fall Out Boy and The Academy Is..."
"Wow. Most people just think we're cute."
"You'd be surprised."
The two talked long into the night, until the sad little blue clock hanging on the off-white wall read 12:03.
"I'd better get back to my bus...maybe the guys have cooled down." Ryan sighed.
"Oh...ok." Nevada looked down at her feet.
"Uh...because of the whole thing with your ex...do you have anywhere to stay?" Ryan mumbled, looking at his feet as well.
"No, I don't. Mark just told me to come and get my stuff in the morning and...to return the ring..." she glanced down at her hand, where a small, pear-shaped diamond glittered up at her.
"You can stay on our couch." He decided, and the two got up.
Ryan stepped through the screen door and reached his hand down to help Nevada up the steep stairs.
"Hey, Ry-and chick." Spencer said, frowning.
"Guys, this is Nevada...she has no place to stay, so she's gonna sleep on our couch for tonight." Ryan said.
Nevada smiled shyly at the band members. Jon and Spencer shook her hand and muttered 'hello's, but Brendon sat in shock. She was the hottest emo chick he'd ever met.
"Uh, Brendon, be social." Spencer said.
Brendon got off the couch and gently shook her hand.
"Hi." He breathed, taking in her dark eyes and shy smile.
"Hi." She whispered, and she turned back to Ryan, sticking close as he crossed the small room and made up a makeshift bed on the couch for her.
"See you in the morning, Nevada." He smiled, grasping her hand gently as him and the others stepped into the bunkroom and shut the narrow door. Brendon had seen the way Ryan had grasped her hand; he liked her.