Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco
That's Where We Went Wrong
2 reviewsThis is the first story I've posted in over a year... Ryan Ross/OFC. Ryan's point of view. too lazy to do a summary. just read
2Ambiance
This scene opens up on a beautiful wedding. It was absolutely perfect; it was like something I had probably seen on television before. It was perfect down to the last pearl on the bodice of her wedding dress.
One thing was missing though. The groom was missing, well not so much missing. He had walked away, leaving her standing at the altar with the groom's men and bride's maids with a panicked, if not somewhat distraught, look upon her beautifully made-up face. Everyone attending the wedding was just as shocked as she was. I, on the other hand, was not surprised at all. Brendon shifted in his seat beside me, trying to get a better view of her reaction.
Jump back four months to where I came across her fiancé exchanging a kiss with a blonde in a tiny, black dress, as they left a restaurant.
Jump to where I am at her apartment trying to get her to believe what I had just witnessed. To where she tells me that I'm jealous and cannot stand to see her with anyone else, so I make up things to make her relationship fall apart. To the moment where she tells me that I had my chance, but didn't take it; to where she tells me to get out; to not interfere with her life anymore.
Flash back to a year ago, in my bedroom. She's laying across my bed, tangled in the sheets and comforter grinning down at where I'm crouching on the floor. Her almost black hair was messy in a kind of perfect way, like someone had spent time making it appear that way. She's playing with my fingers as they gripped the mattress to keep me balanced while I made up stories about whatever she wanted to hear.
She stops playing with my fingers and stops swinging her legs. "Tell me about how we fell in love," she murmurs into the cotton of the bedspread. I pull myself onto the bed and try to decide where to begin.
Cut to where I'm watching her from the doorway. We're both crying as she attempts to explain how she cannot wait around forever for me through her sobbing. Telling me she cannot live on my vague promises of someday.
All of my words are caught in my throat, choking me and making it impossible to make replies to anything she says. "I can't be second priority to your music anymore, Ryan." I want to tell her she's not, but she's already pushed past me and walking toward the door. I want to tell her she never was second priority; she was always first, even if it didn't seem like it. She was always first. I just wasn't prepared to take that leap yet, until she walking out the door.
The door shuts, and she is gone. I could have run after her, but my motor functions are shot at that point and all I can do is stare at the closed door. If I had been able, I would have run after her and told her that she was always first and that we could do it, we could get married right then if that was what she wanted.
A week passes and her scent still lingers in fading vanilla clouds around the house, making it near impossible to think about anything else.
Fast forward a few months from our break up, the scene opens up at the Palms. I'm sitting at a table Spencer and Brendon, while Jon's getting us drinks. "Don't look now," Brendon says under his breath, looking down at the table. Of course Spencer and I look to see what he's talking about.
She's walking in our direction with an arm wrapped around her waist. The first thing I notice is a ring sparkling on her finger. I stop breathing. I follow her with my eyes as they walk to a table; they end up sitting down at the table next to ours. Her emerald eyes fall on me while I'm eyeing her new man. I can't help thinking about how they rushed into engagement.
Her eyes meet mine and the way she looks at me says, "He’s giving me everything you didn't" but at the same time I could read that she still loved me.
In this scene, her head is resting on my chest and her eyes are shut. She's not asleep, I can tell by the way she is breathing so I cannot help but to ask what she is doing. I feel her lips curve into a smile against my skin, "I'm listening to your heart," she whispers, lifting her head.
I trace shapes into her skin as she moves up to press her lips against mine in a quick kiss. I raise my head to catch her lips again. I rub my nose against hers. "I love you."
Another brief kiss was brought on by my words. "I love you too, Ryan," she manages to get out before I catch her bottom lip, lightly, with my teeth.
Her eyes darted around the leaving wedding guests; I could only guess that she was looking for me. Her eyes fell on the last row of chairs, at the back, where I was still sitting with Brendon. She lifted the skirt of her dress a bit to make it a tiny bit easier to walk.
When she sat down next to me, Brendon stood up. Taking this as his cue to go wait somewhere, like the car; he nodded his head at her as he slipped past us, leaving us alone.
We sat silently for a few minutes, looking anywhere but at each other. "You were right," she murmured. I shifted my gaze from a thread on the right leg of my jeans, that was coming off the seams and to her.
I pulled the short, black thread from my jeans, "I know."
One thing was missing though. The groom was missing, well not so much missing. He had walked away, leaving her standing at the altar with the groom's men and bride's maids with a panicked, if not somewhat distraught, look upon her beautifully made-up face. Everyone attending the wedding was just as shocked as she was. I, on the other hand, was not surprised at all. Brendon shifted in his seat beside me, trying to get a better view of her reaction.
Jump back four months to where I came across her fiancé exchanging a kiss with a blonde in a tiny, black dress, as they left a restaurant.
Jump to where I am at her apartment trying to get her to believe what I had just witnessed. To where she tells me that I'm jealous and cannot stand to see her with anyone else, so I make up things to make her relationship fall apart. To the moment where she tells me that I had my chance, but didn't take it; to where she tells me to get out; to not interfere with her life anymore.
Flash back to a year ago, in my bedroom. She's laying across my bed, tangled in the sheets and comforter grinning down at where I'm crouching on the floor. Her almost black hair was messy in a kind of perfect way, like someone had spent time making it appear that way. She's playing with my fingers as they gripped the mattress to keep me balanced while I made up stories about whatever she wanted to hear.
She stops playing with my fingers and stops swinging her legs. "Tell me about how we fell in love," she murmurs into the cotton of the bedspread. I pull myself onto the bed and try to decide where to begin.
Cut to where I'm watching her from the doorway. We're both crying as she attempts to explain how she cannot wait around forever for me through her sobbing. Telling me she cannot live on my vague promises of someday.
All of my words are caught in my throat, choking me and making it impossible to make replies to anything she says. "I can't be second priority to your music anymore, Ryan." I want to tell her she's not, but she's already pushed past me and walking toward the door. I want to tell her she never was second priority; she was always first, even if it didn't seem like it. She was always first. I just wasn't prepared to take that leap yet, until she walking out the door.
The door shuts, and she is gone. I could have run after her, but my motor functions are shot at that point and all I can do is stare at the closed door. If I had been able, I would have run after her and told her that she was always first and that we could do it, we could get married right then if that was what she wanted.
A week passes and her scent still lingers in fading vanilla clouds around the house, making it near impossible to think about anything else.
Fast forward a few months from our break up, the scene opens up at the Palms. I'm sitting at a table Spencer and Brendon, while Jon's getting us drinks. "Don't look now," Brendon says under his breath, looking down at the table. Of course Spencer and I look to see what he's talking about.
She's walking in our direction with an arm wrapped around her waist. The first thing I notice is a ring sparkling on her finger. I stop breathing. I follow her with my eyes as they walk to a table; they end up sitting down at the table next to ours. Her emerald eyes fall on me while I'm eyeing her new man. I can't help thinking about how they rushed into engagement.
Her eyes meet mine and the way she looks at me says, "He’s giving me everything you didn't" but at the same time I could read that she still loved me.
In this scene, her head is resting on my chest and her eyes are shut. She's not asleep, I can tell by the way she is breathing so I cannot help but to ask what she is doing. I feel her lips curve into a smile against my skin, "I'm listening to your heart," she whispers, lifting her head.
I trace shapes into her skin as she moves up to press her lips against mine in a quick kiss. I raise my head to catch her lips again. I rub my nose against hers. "I love you."
Another brief kiss was brought on by my words. "I love you too, Ryan," she manages to get out before I catch her bottom lip, lightly, with my teeth.
Her eyes darted around the leaving wedding guests; I could only guess that she was looking for me. Her eyes fell on the last row of chairs, at the back, where I was still sitting with Brendon. She lifted the skirt of her dress a bit to make it a tiny bit easier to walk.
When she sat down next to me, Brendon stood up. Taking this as his cue to go wait somewhere, like the car; he nodded his head at her as he slipped past us, leaving us alone.
We sat silently for a few minutes, looking anywhere but at each other. "You were right," she murmured. I shifted my gaze from a thread on the right leg of my jeans, that was coming off the seams and to her.
I pulled the short, black thread from my jeans, "I know."
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