you're the leaky sink of sentiment you're the failed attempts i never could forget you're the metaphors i can't create to comprehend this curse that i call love --Motion City Soundtrack
It's a cross between cheap beer and blood
With an after taste of dry sarcastic speech
Chapter one: Dear Everybody or Whoever's Listening
Ryan Ross, I think that makes everything simple. I'm sure you know of him. I mean, who doesn't? You can't listen to the radio and not hear him and his band Panic! At The Disco. I bet that all of you are in love with Panic! and Ryan in some sense. Otherwise, why would you be reading this?
I bet you think that I'm in love with him, too, seeing as I'm obsessing over him. However, I am proud to say that I am not in any way shape or from, nor will I ever be in love with Ryan Ross, as you know him.
I am in love with George Ryan Ross, but you don't know him. I'm probably the only person who ever loved him back then. Well, that loved him romantically, that is.
I remember all the nights that we would stay up till four or five in the morning just talking on the phone. We would have the most amazing conversations. He would sing me songs all night long and play on his old guitar that I gave to him when we were little. Those were the days...
But then his band got big. He left Las Vegas without saying goodbye. I'm actually glad that he left without saying goodbye, otherwise he never would have left, he never would have gone on tour and met thousands upon thousands of giggly girls who would do anything for him and the band. And I mean /anything/!
I really should just shut up. Ryan is in the past. I have no need to dwell on things that can never be. He will never be my little innocent and sweet George Ryan Ross. He will always be a member of Panic! At The Disco, so I'm not even going to bother with dreaming.
It was sunny when I woke up, and I was thankful for that. I could wear my sunglasses without anyone wondering why. I hate it when I cry. When I cry, I cry until four or five in the morning, so I don't even get to sleep at all. However, I was mad that I worked inside and I would have to take off my sunglasses or look like a complete idiot.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were all red and puffy. I brushed my hair, trying to tame the frizzy brown mess. Ryan always loved it when I straightened it...
No! I have to stop thinking about him! What is my problem!? I yelled at myself, slapping my forehead. I continued to get ready. I ended up putting my hair into a knot on the back of my head. I put on some lip gloss, too tired to bother with any other make-up. I put on some nice clothes for work, a funky plaid skirt and a purple tank top.
As I stepped out the door, I put on my oversized sunglasses, stepped into my PT Cruiser and left for work. I was already running behind and traffic is always horrid in the mornings in LA.
I tried my hardest to get to work on time. I couldn't handle being late again. My boss would yell at me for hours each time I was. And even though I tried to explain that I lived on the complete opposite side of town, all she did was laugh and say that it wasn't her problem.
I remember my first day on the job. Out of the blue Ryan called and, of course, I was more than happy to talk to him, hoping that it would be like old times. We talked until seven thirty in the morning! And I had to be to work at seven forty-five!
I hung up on Ryan, only quickly muttering a goodbye. I changed and was out of the house in five minutes, only to be stuck in traffic for another hour! I thought that my boss would understand, seeing as she was in the music business, but she didn't even believe me! I told her I would call Ryan but, like in all good stories, I dropped my cell phone as I rushed out and I didn't have Ryan's new cell phone number.
Now, everytime I go into work late she always asks me if I was talking to Panic! At The Disco again. But I was not going to give her that satisfaction again. I was already in a bad enough mood, and I didn't need her to remind me anymore of Ryan, that was not what I needed right now.
Although I would never admit this to anyone but myself, what I needed right now was Ryan.
I arrived at work only three minutes late, but I knew I would probably still be yelled at. As I stepped into the building I removed my sunglasses, praying that my eyes were no longer red and puffy. And I could make up some other reason to why they were like that. I could be high...but let's not do that. I could be trying a new fashion! But what fashion would entitle for your eyes to be red and puffy? I got it! How about I'm just simply tired, that works.
No one was on the elevator when I got on. I took out my compact to look at my eyes. I was happy that we were on the thirtieth floor, more time for, well, everything. I was too busy putting on mascara when we stopped on the third floor to notice that someone got on.
"Hi, Spencer," I said in a bored voice, not even realizing what I said. "Wait..." I looked up and saw... "SPENCER!!!" I hugged him so tightly I doubt he could breathe. "What are you doing here?" I asked him, no longer hugging him but I was holding onto his hands.
"Well, this is a record company-"
"But not your record company," I told him matter-of-factly.
"That's true, but they keep trying to sign us, and we have come to 'put them down easy.'" As he said the last four words he made quotation marks with his fingers.
I smiled at him, and then it hit me. Did he just say we!? "Did you say we? Is everyone here?" My eyes had gone wide and Spencer could probably tell that I had been crying, but I really didn't care.
"Yeah, they're all here. They wanted to race up the stairs for some reason. However, I thought I would be cool and take the elevator. It's probably safer. Brendon's a madman when it comes to races."
I laughed. "So how has everyone been doing? Brendon, yourself, Jon-that's his name, right?"
"Ryan's doing rea-"
"Ryan who?" I said, trying to say the name as if it meant nothing to me.
"C'mon, you can't just pretend as if you no longer care." Spencer looked at me and I felt bad, but not that bad.
"That's where you're wrong. I'm not pretending, I don't care at all!"
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but before he could even get a breath out I said, "So how are you, Brendon and Jon?"
"Everyone is doing great. Brendon is just being insane with the touring. It is so much fun to be stuck on a bus all day with him. I'm doing grand, it was so funny when we went back to Las Vegas and everyone was acting like I was their best friend. You know Beth and how I liked her, right?" I nodded. "Well, she was trying to tell everyone about how we dated all through high school. I was laughing the whole time she was talking."
"When did you go back to town? I would feel so bad if I was in town, too, and never went to see you."
"It was actually just last week. We called your house but your parents said that you were living in LA now, and wouldn't be back down 'til Christmas."
"Oh okay, that's good. Well, you didn't finish telling me about Jon. You only told me about how weird Brendon's being and how girls are just fawning over you all of a sudden."
"Well, why don't you ask him yourself? We're here!"
The bell in the elevator rang and we stepped out. Then a thought popped into my mind. When I walk into my boss's office with Panic! by my side, she is going to be so pissed!
I looked around but didn't see anyone else. I frowned slightly, noticing that Spencer had gone somewhere but I wasn't sure where. I started to head to my boss's office when someone put their hands over my eyes and whispered in my ear, "Guess who!"