Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Shattered Hearts
Tip-Tap Pirouettes.
13 reviewsBut, Brendon doesn’t mind. This is exciting. And, exciting doesn’t come often for the seventeen year old in a sleepy town like Summerlin.
1Original
Brendon just stared. It stared back. The two looked at each other so long, that Brendon swears that this would be a fantastic staring contest if not for the current circumstances. Then it spoke. And, in a surprisingly monotonous voice.
“Hey… are you okay? You’re not moving… Brendon?”
Brendon was pretty much speechless. He had no idea dolls could talk. Or walk. Or even be alive, for that matter. Ryan blinked at him before asking again, “Hey, dude, you okay?”
He pointed at Ryan, eyes wide, and stuttered, “Y-You’re talking! But, you’re a-a… a...”
“A twenty-five centimeter doll made out of porcelain?” interrupted Ryan, golden eyes shining in the light of Brendon’s torch. “Yeah, I kinda figured that out a long time ago.”
Brendon still didn’t know what to do. He thought, maybe this is all just a dream. A freaky dream caused by the effects of too much Red Bull and Skittles. That’s what Spencer says sometimes.
Yes, Brendon does have serious discussions about life with the pizza guy.
Focus, Urie. Back to the question at hand.
Maybe it’s just his imagination; his mind playing tricks on him again. He pinched himself to be sure, but the sore on his arm tells him otherwise. Finally, one of them spoke.
“Well, this sure is pretty odd.”
Ryan shrugged. “Not really.” His shoes clicked against the surface of the wooden table, and Brendon was reminded slightly of tap-dancing shoes. He chased the thought away from his mind and concentrated on the now-alive-and-talking doll looking at him from the table.
“How are you even…” Brendon made a flustered gesture with his hands and blurted out, “Alive?!”
Ryan rolled his eyes as he carefully teetered on the edge of the table-top. “Same question every time,” he sighed, glancing at Brendon. “You wanna know the truth?” Brendon nodded, sitting down on a chair immediately, waiting to hear Ryan’s explanation.
… He’s talking to a doll.
Anyway, this may be as crazy as… as…. the time he put worms in a customer’s handbag for kicks, or when he chugged that twelve cans of Capri Sun at Spencer’s birthday party, but Brendon doesn’t mind. This is exciting. And, exciting doesn’t come often for the seventeen year old in a sleepy town like Summerlin.
“Please, do continue,” urged Brendon, grinning ridiculously now, from the epiphany he’d just gotten, and Ryan looked at him with an amused look on his face. Brendon’s smile dropped and he asked, “What? Is there something on my face?”
“No, it’s just that, you’re the first person who hasn’t screamed, tried to break me, or fainted upon meeting me,” said Ryan with a smile to match Brendon’s earlier one. Brendon takes this opportunity to grin widely at the doll.
“Well, I am one very relaxed person, and you don’t scare me that easily,” he joked, crossing his arms over his chest. Ryan shook his head, swinging his long legs over the edge of the table. He gazed across the room, out the window, and Brendon was somewhat awestruck with how the moonlight cast its beams into the small room, lighting up their faces. The doll's porcelain skin shined even more, and Brendon couldn't take his eyes of him.
Well, it's not Brendon's fault he can't keep his eyes off the doll. It's really too fascinating, for god's sakes. Brendon was like an eight year old, examining Ryan with such an innocently childish gaze.
"Brendon. You're staring at me."
The teenager coughed, trying to hide the blush crawling up his neck, and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. You are quite interesting." Ryan sighed, shaking his head, but Brendon could still see the lingering smile on the doll's face.
“Okay, so, as you’ve noticed, I am in fact a bisque doll,” started Ryan slowly. Brendon nodded enthusiastically, jiggling his leg a little. “I wasn’t always like this though.”
“What do you mean?” asked Brendon curiously.
Ryan sighed, looking down. “I am- or was- supposed to be eighteen.” Brendon raised an eyebrow; his teeth playing with his lower lip. “You know how Jon found me in that theatre?”
“Yeah, he said some guy gave you to him to keep.”
Ryan stopped swinging his legs and stared straight at Brendon with a wistful look on his face. “My name is Ryan Ross. I lived in that theatre for fifty years. The man that Jon met was my best friend. He was twenty-four when I became like this.” Brendon’s eyes widened as the information sunk in. He couldn’t be…
Ryan’s voice quivered as he revealed the answer to Brendon.
“I used to be a real person.”
~
GASPEDEDS. I has not updated so long. Well, technically two or three days, but I try to be punctual. Sorry it's so short and disappointing. ~hides under table~
Bai.
Nicky xxx
“Hey… are you okay? You’re not moving… Brendon?”
Brendon was pretty much speechless. He had no idea dolls could talk. Or walk. Or even be alive, for that matter. Ryan blinked at him before asking again, “Hey, dude, you okay?”
He pointed at Ryan, eyes wide, and stuttered, “Y-You’re talking! But, you’re a-a… a...”
“A twenty-five centimeter doll made out of porcelain?” interrupted Ryan, golden eyes shining in the light of Brendon’s torch. “Yeah, I kinda figured that out a long time ago.”
Brendon still didn’t know what to do. He thought, maybe this is all just a dream. A freaky dream caused by the effects of too much Red Bull and Skittles. That’s what Spencer says sometimes.
Yes, Brendon does have serious discussions about life with the pizza guy.
Focus, Urie. Back to the question at hand.
Maybe it’s just his imagination; his mind playing tricks on him again. He pinched himself to be sure, but the sore on his arm tells him otherwise. Finally, one of them spoke.
“Well, this sure is pretty odd.”
Ryan shrugged. “Not really.” His shoes clicked against the surface of the wooden table, and Brendon was reminded slightly of tap-dancing shoes. He chased the thought away from his mind and concentrated on the now-alive-and-talking doll looking at him from the table.
“How are you even…” Brendon made a flustered gesture with his hands and blurted out, “Alive?!”
Ryan rolled his eyes as he carefully teetered on the edge of the table-top. “Same question every time,” he sighed, glancing at Brendon. “You wanna know the truth?” Brendon nodded, sitting down on a chair immediately, waiting to hear Ryan’s explanation.
… He’s talking to a doll.
Anyway, this may be as crazy as… as…. the time he put worms in a customer’s handbag for kicks, or when he chugged that twelve cans of Capri Sun at Spencer’s birthday party, but Brendon doesn’t mind. This is exciting. And, exciting doesn’t come often for the seventeen year old in a sleepy town like Summerlin.
“Please, do continue,” urged Brendon, grinning ridiculously now, from the epiphany he’d just gotten, and Ryan looked at him with an amused look on his face. Brendon’s smile dropped and he asked, “What? Is there something on my face?”
“No, it’s just that, you’re the first person who hasn’t screamed, tried to break me, or fainted upon meeting me,” said Ryan with a smile to match Brendon’s earlier one. Brendon takes this opportunity to grin widely at the doll.
“Well, I am one very relaxed person, and you don’t scare me that easily,” he joked, crossing his arms over his chest. Ryan shook his head, swinging his long legs over the edge of the table. He gazed across the room, out the window, and Brendon was somewhat awestruck with how the moonlight cast its beams into the small room, lighting up their faces. The doll's porcelain skin shined even more, and Brendon couldn't take his eyes of him.
Well, it's not Brendon's fault he can't keep his eyes off the doll. It's really too fascinating, for god's sakes. Brendon was like an eight year old, examining Ryan with such an innocently childish gaze.
"Brendon. You're staring at me."
The teenager coughed, trying to hide the blush crawling up his neck, and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. You are quite interesting." Ryan sighed, shaking his head, but Brendon could still see the lingering smile on the doll's face.
“Okay, so, as you’ve noticed, I am in fact a bisque doll,” started Ryan slowly. Brendon nodded enthusiastically, jiggling his leg a little. “I wasn’t always like this though.”
“What do you mean?” asked Brendon curiously.
Ryan sighed, looking down. “I am- or was- supposed to be eighteen.” Brendon raised an eyebrow; his teeth playing with his lower lip. “You know how Jon found me in that theatre?”
“Yeah, he said some guy gave you to him to keep.”
Ryan stopped swinging his legs and stared straight at Brendon with a wistful look on his face. “My name is Ryan Ross. I lived in that theatre for fifty years. The man that Jon met was my best friend. He was twenty-four when I became like this.” Brendon’s eyes widened as the information sunk in. He couldn’t be…
Ryan’s voice quivered as he revealed the answer to Brendon.
“I used to be a real person.”
~
GASPEDEDS. I has not updated so long. Well, technically two or three days, but I try to be punctual. Sorry it's so short and disappointing. ~hides under table~
Bai.
Nicky xxx
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