FicWad

Disclaimer: I do not take ownership for the lyrics I have presented in this part of the story. They solely belong to Panic! At The Disco, (Fueled by Ramen). I am not in anyway affiliated with these people. Unfortunately. Ahaha. =)


“No, I don’t think you know exactly how excited I am!” I squealed again for about the millionth time. Well, maybe not millionth, but about the third or fourth time since I had entered the garage about half a minute ago. I could almost hear Jon’s eyes rolling.

Brendon, who was already sitting behind his set, tapped Spencer’s drumstick on the side of the large drum beside him in annoyance. “Yeah, we know.”

“Really, I’m sooo excited! Hurry, tune that guitar faster!” I pointed at Brendon roughly who was fiddling with Ryan’s guitar. He looked up at me in confusion. Jon led me to one of the two lawn chairs that were set up in an empty space of the garage. He forced me down into my seat, but even then, I was too busy writhing in excitement and looking around the garage with anticipation.

“Delilah,” Jon started, placing each of his hands on my shoulders, half pinning me to the chair. “I don’t believe you’ve mentioned how excited you were to be here.” He was half joking, half aggravated.

I cocked my eyebrow and the grin that was already smeared across my face grew even wider. “Well then, I’m so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooooooo- glmph!” I stopped mid-sentence as someone gently wrapped their warm hand around my mouth from behind me. I looked up, and slightly backwards, into the face of Ryan.

“Shh.” Ryan leaned forward and kissed the top of my head lightly, sending a slight chill down my spine. His voice made me feel weak in the knees, even though I was planted firmly in the old, slightly worn plastic lawn chair.

“DELILAH THAT’S SO GROSS!” Ryan withdrew his hand quickly when I stuck out my tongue and licked his palm. I smiled triumphantly as he wiped his palm across my face, leaving it slightly wet. He leaned forward again, looking defiantly in my eyes. I grabbed his cheeks with my hands soothingly, caressing his face as he looked down on me.

“You know you loved it.” I shrugged, inadvertently backing away from his intense gaze by nestling further into my lawn chair.

Spencer finally entered the garage, joining the rest of us. He shuffled towards his drum set, and planted himself behind it, eyeing me suspiciously.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “What’re you looking at, Smith?” A sly smile played across my face.

“I’m waiting to see if you’re done saying how excited you are yet.” Spencer arched his eyebrow in correspondence to mine.

Brendon barked a humorless laugh. “Hah! Fat chance.”

I rolled my eyes at Brendon. “No, no, I’m done saying that- I’M SO SO SO EXCITED!” I yelped, surprising everyone with my outburst. A collected groan echoed through the garage from each of the boys.

“Well,” Spencer laughed. “Prepare to be even more delighted.” His voice had a tint of mock extravagance that made me smile.

“That better be a promise, Spencer.” I warned.

“So,” Jon started. He shuffled lazily in his own lawn chair and eyed me nonchalantly. “Are you two together?”

I laughed. “We were planning a spring wedding, weren’t we, cupcake?” I looked up at Ryan. His hands were up in the air in protest as he shook his head from side to side in quick movements. He was mouthing the word ‘no’. I laughed and jabbed him in his stomach with my finger. He smiled down at me and ruffled my hair in his fingers.

“Alright, can we?” Brendon, sort of snapping his interruption, looked at us from over his water bottle.

Ryan gave me one last pat on the head before he walked up onto the make-shift stage and stood by his guitar. It was strange to me how it was to see how normal Ryan was acting. I knew that if it were me in his place, I’d probably be moping around, or not as attentive. The thought made me wonder if this happened more often then I had previously assumed.

I sat hunched over, probably resembling a gargoyle and/or the hunchback of Notre Dame (but no big deal) with my elbows on my knees, and my face resting lightly in my cupped palms. I watched as Jon toyed with the strings on Brent’s bass, murmur a brief conversation to Brendon, and then shuffle over to me. He flashed me a smile as he sat down in his own chair, and I feigned a smile back.

Brendon seemed slightly anxious. “Alright.”

“Just pretend I’m not here!” I cried quickly.

Brendon smiled and continued. “Let’s play Camisado, followed by Build God, Then We’ll talk, and then-”

Ryan looked even more nervous than Brendon sounded. He shook his head in distaste. “Let’s not do Camisado; we’re good with that one.”

Brendon scoffed. “No, that’s the song we need the most work on. And after Build God… which song?”

“I’m having troubles getting the chords in Lying is the Most Fun.” Brent piped in from behind his dark colored bass.

“Sounds good. Everyone ready?” Brendon asked. Spencer, Ryan and Brent grunted dismally in unison.

Brendon swiveled his microphone over a nearby electric keyboard and then sat on a shabby, worn metal stool that looked capable of snapping in half at any minute. He signaled to Spencer, who counted down by clicking his drumsticks together. Instantly after the fourth click of Spencer’s drumsticks, Brendon was already working on the keyboard, jabbing at the air with short tuneful notes.

“The I.V. and your hospital bed.
This was no accident,
This was a therapeutic chain of events.

And then, with a loud clash of music, everyone started playing together, in a faster paced beat. Spencer over top of his drums, Ryan and Brent swaying over their guitars, and Brendon clutching onto his microphone.

This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor.
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital.
It's not so pleasant,
and it's not so conventional.
It sure as hell ain't normal,
but we deal, we deal.

The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in.
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional.
It sure as hell ain't normal,
But we deal, we deal.

Just sit back, just sit back,
Just sit back and relax,
Just sit back, just sit back,
Just sit back and relapse again.

Can't take the kid from the fight,
take the fight from the kid.
Sit back, relax,
Sit back, relapse again.
Can't take the kid from the fight,
take the fight from the kid.
Just sit back, just sit back.

You're a regular decorated emergency.
You're a regular decorated emergency.”

Brendon’s deep, mesmerizing voice lulled me into a strange attentive state. I should have known that he would have been an amazing singer, and yet I sat back in my squeaky plastic chair, astonished. I watched Brendon’s mouth as he sung, paying as much thought to the lyrics themselves as I could. I could instantly tell that Ryan had wrote them, and the story they told. I felt my bottom eyelids line with salty water.

I thought that there would be nothing more painful than being in the room with Ryan as his dad assaulted him, but I guess I was wrong. It was like looking into Ryan’s thoughts as it was happening, and not only the abuse, but his dad’s health as well. I stopped myself before my tears could splash themselves onto my cheeks. I only hoped that I would get some time for my eyes to dry up before anyone noticed how shiny they probably were.

“The I.V. and your hospital bed.
This was no accident;
this was a therapeutic chain of events.”

Brendon finished singing Ryan’s song, and Jon and I applauded at the same time. The sound of two people clapping is usually a dreary sound, but the boys up on the improvised stage were gleaming with their own pride. They stood behind each of their instruments- guitars, drums, microphones, keyboards- and watched me, waiting almost impatiently for my response. I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to over do it, just in case they didn’t believe me, but I most definitely didn’t want to undersell their fantastic performance as well.

“Wow.” I said at first. They watched me hungrily for more. I still hadn’t decided on what I wanted to say. “That was- I just-” I paused. They waited even more desperate for something. “You guys are just so- so fantastic!” They smiled in perfect synchronization. Brendon adjusted his microphone, Ryan looked at his shoes with an embarrassed smile, Spencer chucked his drumstick at Jon (don’t ask me why, boys are such a mystery to me), and Brent was being Brent. Shuffle shuffle, hair flicky, hair flicky, guitar string pluck, flicky hair.

“Play another one!” I cheered.

“Oh, Brent, dear?” The garage door creaked open, exposing an old frail woman. She was wearing a (hideous) floral nightdress with white lace and frills. Her thin cotton candy like hair was pulled up into a loose bun held up with a few exposed bobby pins. She shuffled into the door frame in her bunny slippers. Her wrinkled, time-eroded skin hung loose over her bones. She looked like fine silk over glass.

“Yes, Grams?” Brent placed his bass down carelessly and jumped off the stage to help his grandmother. I covered my smirk with my hand. That was basic Brent Wilson. Proud and cocky one second, kiss ass the next.

“I was going to get you and your friends some cookies and milk, but I can’t seem to lift the milk jug anymore.” She sighed deeply and squinted around the room. “I told your grandfather to get a one litre, but he keeps insisting that we run out of milk too fast. I told him to get more than one, but you know him, I doubt he even heard me if he bothered to listen. I tried to call your father today, you know. But that son of mine is such a hard worker. I keep forgetting to tell you to get a haircut. That hair of yours keeps getting in your face. Oh dear. Listen to me prattle. Now, what did I come in here for...”

I got up from my chair. “I’ll help you pour the milk, Mrs. Wilson.” Her judgemental, small, black beetle eyes scanned me for a second, and then a worn smile appeared on her face.

“Yes, dear. The milk, come with me.” Mrs. Wilson beckoned me, and I walked towards the door and followed her. The kitchen was just a short turn away. There were five glasses and a plate of cookies on the olive green linoleum counter. I stepped forward towards the milk jug and unscrewed the lid.

“Thank you so much, honey. You know that dang thing just keeps getting heavier with every year.” She looked crossly at the jug for a moment. I smiled.

“I think so too.” I shrugged.

“You’re such a sweetie. I like your accent. Are you from Ireland?” She asked innocently. I smirked.

“No, I’m from England.”

“How sweet. What’s your name, dear?”

“I’m Delilah White. Pleased to meet you.” I offered politely. The smile remained on her face.

“Delilah. Hm, you know, the boys talk about you a lot. Especially Ryan. Now, I think he might like you a little more than a friend.” She said slyly. I feigned a smile.

“Probably not.” I said quietly, not really sure whether I meant it or not.

“He’s in the garage with the other boys playing music, can you hear them?” She paused and listened. I was almost worried that she would fall apart at the touch.

“Yes, they play very well.” I said thoughtfully. She nodded her head, as if snapping back into reality.

“I’m all finished, Mrs. Wilson.” I said, when each glass had been filled. She hustled over to me, faster than I would have thought she could move, and grabbed the plate of cookies.

“Thank you, dear. Could you please take the milk in for me?” I nodded and grasped each side of the metal tray. I followed Mrs. Wilson into the garage, where she was already being attacked by the five hungry boys who were stuffing chocolate chip cookies into their faces. I set the tray of milk down on a nearby crate. Mrs. Wilson handed the plate to Brendon, who tried to protect them from the other boys as soon as she turned around. She smiled at me, and pointed at Ryan.

“This is the one that always talks about you.” She hustled over to him and put her frail hand on his shoulder. “George Ryan Ross. This is the boy that keeps on talking about you dear. He’s a nice pick.”

“Mrs. Wilson!” Ryan wailed, half annoyed, half embarrassed.

“Well, he is quite cute.” I winked.

“Isn’t that sweet.” Mrs. Wilson cooed. She patted us both on the back and then shuffled back towards the garage door. “Sorry to interrupt, my dears. I have to go check on dinner now. I hope you’ll visit me again soon, Delilah.” She bustled off into the house, making sure to close the door behind her.

“Your grandmother’s chocolate chip cookies are my favourite, Brent. She makes damn good cookies. I think we should pack these up and go to my house.” Brendon turned off the power to the garage and grabbed his coat in one hand, and tucked his keyboard under the other arm.

“Let’s leave the cookies behind.” Brent was back to his usual cocky self. He was bent over on one knee, zipping up his bass case as it rested on the ground. Brendon stopped walking, and peeked over his shoulder at Brent.

“If you value your life,” Brendon warned, his eyebrow arched. “You will bring the cookies.” I laughed, placing Ryan’s guitar strap around my shoulder, carrying his instrument out of the garage. Brent grabbed the plate of cookies, and slid them into a plastic Ziploc bag. “Delilah, fetch the cookies, and come in my car. We’ll share them.” Brendon whispered the last sentence in my ear. I laughed and nodded.

“You heard the man. We need to transport the cookies safely to our destination.” I strutted towards Brent.

“Yeah, yeah. Just save some for me.” Brent placed the bag in my outstretched hands.

I clutched the cookies to my chest and laughed. “Oh, Brent. You’re a funny one.” I said. Brendon laughed, and I gave him the thumbs up.


*

“How come we always end up at Brendon’s house?” Brent whined. “Let’s go play some Nintendo at my place or something.”

Brent was right, we always did end up at Brendon’s house. Brent was the only one who seemed to really mind, though. He always sat by himself, usually with his eyes glazed over, deep in thought about the current level he was on in his newest video game. Or he was glued to Brendon’s computer. I actually wasn’t really fond of Brent. He was the rude ‘I’m better than you, anyways’ type of person. The only thing I liked about him, was that he was easy to tease- his cheeks went beet red at the quaintest compliment, or he exploded at the simplest comment.

Ryan and I were sprawled over the carpet in front of Brendon’s television, having a staring contest, sort of listening to the TV and Brendon’s latest story. My eyes were starting to ache as I tried not to laugh at the funny face Ryan was making. I blinked just as Brent started whining again.

“I won!” Ryan cried triumphantly.

“That’s not fair! Rematch! Every one was cheating!” I whined.

“Nice try, love. It’s a two person game, and as I recall, you said that there were no rules.” He laughed. He rolled over onto his back at the same time my stomach rolled over in my body as he called me ‘love’.

I snorted. “Yeah, I only said that because I wanted to cheat so I could win.” I argued. He laughed, and then I turned around to face Brent, who was at it again.

“Well?” He looked around and flicked the hair out of his face. “Why can’t we go to my house for a change?”

Jon rolled his eyes and nestled further into his armchair to make a point. “Because every time we go to your house, you try and show us your homosexual porn on your homosexual laptop.” He said smugly.

“I don’t have gay porn on my computer! And you guys were looking through my files, I didn’t show you.” His argument sounded child like.

“Oh jah, oh jah.” Jon imitated lazily. The other boys laughed while Brent’s face turned slowly crimson.

“THAT WAS A CHICK!” Brent jumped up out of his seat like a jet propelled rocket.

“The point is,” Spencer calmly took a sip of apple juice, as if Brent’s outburst of anger was an everyday thing. Which it was. “That we just aren’t interested in your Swedish transvestite pornographic collection on your apple laptop. There are just some things you shouldn’t share.”

I added, “Oh, Brent. That’s just gross.” Brent got angrier.

“It was German and it was a girl and a guy!” He screamed, flailing his arms around like a wounded wolverine.

“Jesus, Brent, look. Did you cut yourself on your jeans? You’re bleeding everywhere!” Brendon rolled his eyes and gave Brent a paper towel.

Brent seemed to have calmed down to a normal(ish) state. “Thanks Brendon. It was on this little metal piece right here. Damn, this hurts so much. I can barely touch anything.” Brent winced in pain as he put pressure on the paper towel.

“Are you alright, Brent?” I asked, sympathetically. The way he had been bleeding, you’d think someone had stabbed him in the finger. Several times.

“Yeah, Brent.” Jon cut in. “Good thing it was your left hand, so you won’t have any problems watching your Swedish Transvest-”

“SHUT-UP!” Brent ordered. Everyone laughed. I was leaning on Ryan, with his arm around my waist. Everyone kept asking if we were together. It wasn’t official, but it felt like we were, so I really didn’t know how to answer. Even if Justin Timberlake asked me out right now, I would say, ‘Sorry, but I’m into Ryan’, and then Justin would probably challenge Ryan to a duel, and Ryan would spill out some poetry, leaving Justin Timberlake in tears. And then, he’d ask Ryan out. And-

SHUT UP, BRAIN.

I felt a phone vibrating on my leg. Ryan looked down.

“Is that mine or yours?” He looked at me.

I grinned. “I think it’s mine. Since I’m ten times more popular than you.”

“How can you be? What, With an apple bottom like this? Oh, girlfriend, I don’t think so.” He joked. I laughed, and almost forgot about the phone buzzing. I grabbed my phone from my pocket, and sure enough, it was ringing. I got up, and answered it quickly. I walked out of the room before I spoke.

“Hello?”

“Hey, mate!” Jas’s muffled voice spilled out of my receiver.

“Hi! How are you?” I spoke cheerfully, but I didn’t smile. Jas didn’t feel like a close friend anymore. More like an acquaintance.

“Oh, I’m alright. Listen, I have to ask you something and I guess tell you something. I miss you. You really bloody well right sound like a sodding American, mate. It’s quite strange.”

“Ha-ha. Really? I miss you too, Jas.” The fake cheerful tone in my voice kind of made me sick.

“Well, that wasn’t it, of course. But, what if,” She paused for a moment, and I grew worried. “Well, Harry and I were going out?” I stopped. My best friend and my boyfriend? Ex-Boyfriend. I meant ex-boyfriend.

I played dumb. “Like to the films? You don’t even have to ask for that. You guys are my best mates. You know I trust you.” I used the guilt card. I was afraid of her answer.

“Well, no. Like boyfriend and girlfriend.” Even though I knew it was coming, her words stung and ripped at my heart.

“Oh.” I said dismally. “Oh, yeah. I guess that’d be alright.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner, D.” Her voice was genuine, but it meant nothing to me.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” I knew my voice was monotone and dreary. I heard her inhale sharply.

“I really mean that. Harry and I were seeing each other before you left England. A long time before then.”

“What?” My voice was waspish, and cold.

“Well, more than seeing. We were doing… other things.” She veered off.

“Jas! W-why would you do that?” I felt sick and furious. How could she be taking this so lightly? She bloody betrays me, with my bloody boyfriend, and she’s sodding laughing about it. I snorted.

“You bloody well know why. You never gave him anything he wanted.”

“Jas, don’t say that! Just tell her you have to go.” I heard Harry’s worried and familiar voice in the background.

“I have to go, Delilah.”

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me? Let me talk to him.”

“I have to go, Delilah.” An otherwise insignificant click told me that our conversation was over. I slammed my phone closed, and walked into the other room where all the boys looked at me as I entered. I had realized that at that point that I had been shouting into my phone. They looked at me with confused and pitiful looks. I sat down on the couch, as far away from Ryan as I could. I was disappointed in boys right now. No one spoke for a minute. I didn’t think anyone knew what to say. Everyone was just looking at some random inanimate object, out the window, or at a spot on the wall or carpet awkwardly. Ryan nudged at my side with his elbow.

“Is everything OK?” He asked. I shrugged knowing that it wasn’t. I wasn’t planning on telling them. Really. I just sort of opened my mouth, and it just all spilled out.

“I guess. Except for the fact that I had just gotten one of the first phone calls from my friend since I moved from London to tell me that she wanted my permission to date my boyfriend since I couldn’t be with him anymore. And then she told me that she’s been having sex with him even before I moved because ‘I didn’t give him what he wanted’.” I folded my arms over my chest, and sighed angrily. Everyone exchanged pitiful glances. “I’m sorry.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Jon asked. I arched my eyebrow at him, confused and surprised by his question.

“Well, no- I never said that.”

“Yes you did.” Jon argued like a five year old child. I shot him a dirty look.

“Well, I didn’t mean to. I meant that- oh, never mind. I don’t have a boyfriend.” I huffed melancholically. Ryan murmured something under his breath. Rudely I pretended that I didn’t hear it at all.

“Well, baby, what are you doin’ tonight?” Jon asked. Even though I tried not to show it, my face had erupted into a wide grin.

Brendon called, “Group hug!” And everyone leaned in or got up off of their chairs. Jon apparently didn’t like being on the outside, so he jumped onto the mass of people, sending me to the bottom of the pile and the floor. Laughing felt odd and compressed, but I just couldn’t stop. The doorbell rang, and everyone tried to shift to get up, but it seemed impossible. Jon was on top, but I felt his leg trapped under my back, and there was absolutely no way I could free it with Brendon and Ryan laying across my stomach. No one could see Brent’s head, and we were all laughing manically.

The doorbell rang again and Jon found a way to stand up on his one remaining leg, giving room for Brendon to escape and Brent’s head to re-emerge gasping and choking for air, and with only Ryan putting pressure on me, I lifted my back. Brendon’s glasses were askew and his hair was mussed as he answered the door. I thought to myself how cute he looked. I was fixing my hair up, sitting by Ryan, while he straightened out his own clothes. I flashed him a smile, and he grinned back at me.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, come on in.” Brendon’s voice droned through the quiet house as everyone inside was craning their necks to see who was interrupting the fun. My heart sank as Sally and the girl Ryan kissed the previous night walked in the door. A double strike. Sally attempted to look as ‘precious’ as she could, and the other girl stood sweetly, chewing gum with her wide, bleached smile. They looked quite awful, in my opinion. After taking her shoes off, the new girl rushed up to Ryan quickly.

“Oh, hello, handsome!” She purred. I suddenly cursed myself for being born at all.

“Hey Shaye. What’s up?” Ryan’s quiet and shy demeanour quickly fell. I felt like I was staring at a fake Ryan Ross. I arched my eyebrow at him, knowing that he couldn’t see.

“Oh, nothing, cutie pie! I was just hanging out with Sal, and we were all like, you know, talking about girl things and crushes, and like, you totally came up! Oh Em Gee, I’m soo embarrassed! But, Sal said she knew where you were, and I was all like, ‘No! What if he thinks I’m like, a creep!’ and she’s like ‘he totally likes you if you guys kissed yesterday’, and now I am totally embarrassed!” She said this all really fast. Ryan laughed. I furrowed my brow. “Oh, hello.” She said, looking down on me. Her platinum blonde hair didn’t go well with her dark, orangey tanning booth skin tone. Her face colour didn’t match her neck because of the mass amount of make-up she was wearing.

“Hi, I’m Delilah.”

“Oh, awesome. Like, Ryan, I didn’t know you hung out with such weird little girls? Is she like five or something?” Her high pitched voice squealed in supposed laughter. She flipped her platinum flaxen hair out of her caked face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I love her style.” Calmly, he mussed his hair up with his right hand.

“Oh ha-ha, Darling. Don’t joke with me. But will you, like, show me to the freaking bathroom? I have to pee so bad!” I almost cringed. “SAL! Come with me to the bathroom! You know I can’t pee alone!” She ‘laughed’ once more. I watched in disgust as Shaye linked arms with both Ryan and Sally to walk up the stairs.

“Wow, if you could only see the glare on your face right now, Delilah.” Brendon chimed.

“Someone get the boxing gloves.” Spencer laughed.

“I don’t need any bloody gloves.” I growled.



Ryan’s Point of View

I waited outside the bathroom as Sally and Shaye talked and giggled in the bathroom. It was strange how girls could use the toilet while looking and talking to another girl. I felt bizarre, and I really didn’t want to be waiting outside the bathroom. I was about to go back downstairs and talk to Delilah, until Shaye’s voice sung from the bathroom.

“Oh, Ryan. Don’t go anywhere, I don’t want to get lost, beautiful!” I shrugged and waited outside the bathroom door for at least ten more minutes, shuffling my feet. I peeked down the stairs at Delilah talking angrily with Jon. He said something while smirking, and suddenly her expression flipped around, and a huge grin spread across her face. I loved it when she smiled. I loved the way her cheeks got rouge when she laughed. I wanted to be with her so badly. I wanted to run downstairs and hold her in my arms and never let go. But I knew I couldn’t do that. She needed someone better than me. I’d never be able to be there for her like she’s there for me. I’d never be able to protect her if she really needed it. I wasn’t able to even stand up for her downstairs when Shaye was insulting her. I wanted to. A cold hand grabbed my shoulder. I spun around. Shaye’s fake gel nails scratched at my skin though my shirt uncomfortably. Sally was at her side.

“C’mon, tell him!” It seemed like Shaye had another layer of make-up plastered across her face, and as if her clothes had gotten skimpier. I raised my eyebrow. It was as if Sally was only pretending to be friends with Shaye. I wouldn’t even be able to understand why she’d want to do that. Girls are just so strange.

“Kay, so here’s the deal, Ryan. I like, really think I like you, and I was totally wondering- OH EM GEE, Sally I can’t do this! It’s so weird!”

“Do it, I know it’s going to work!” Sally urged. I didn’t know what to say or think. I had a feeling what was coming, but I prayed that it wasn’t.

“Kay, Ryan, would you like, ask me out? ‘Cause you’re like, so totally hot, and I know I can give you whatever, like, and I mean whatever you want.” She sounded seductive. I thought for a minute. Whatever I wanted? What in the hell was that supposed to mean? Do I really want to hook up with a girl that said those kinds of things?

“Will you just give me a day to think about this?”

“Well, I kind of need to know like, now.” I didn’t like Shaye. I didn’t really like her at all. I loved Delilah. She was so beautiful, yet so insecure. I wanted more than anything to just help her realize that she was perfect. Yet, I knew I’d never be able to convince her. She was too wrapped up in her own paradigm. I would never be able to save her from her habits or from her home even if I wanted to. Where would I take her? Certainly not to my house. She wouldn’t be safe there either. What was the use pretending or even trying to be up to her standards? I wouldn’t want to break her heart in the end when she realised that I wasn’t able to sweep her away and lift her off of her feet.

I didn’t even know if it was it normal for me to be thinking about another girl when I was on the brink of asking someone out. I just couldn’t keep Delilah’s flawless face out of my mind. I wasn’t myself when I was around Shaye. I could never be. How can anyone act like a real person around someone who’s so oblivious to how fake she is?

“Ryan? You, like, there?” Maybe it would just be better to move on. To not think about Delilah anymore.


Delilah’s Point of View

“What’s taking them so long?” I asked irritably. Brendon came over to me and slung his arm around my shoulder. I leaned my head on my friend’s arm.

“Don’t worry about him. What ever he does, he does.” Brendon’s masculine voice rang into my ear.

“What does that even mean?” I felt so glum. I knew my face showed it. Brendon hugged me. “Why does Ryan have to be so- different?” Brendon stroked my back, and it made me tingle. Something about his touch made me change my mind about Ryan slightly. Only slightly. Brendon shrugged and I leaned my whole body into his, just to feel some support. “Brendon, you’re so cute.” He said nothing. My attention was averted to the staircase as Sally began to make a fanfare.

“Da da da daaa! Big news, everyone!” There was a slight groaning sound from Jon, and I tried my best, but just couldn’t hide the smile forming on my face. However, she continued, undaunted. “Now presenting the new couple, Ryan and Shaye!”

I didn’t know what to do. Brendon was looking straight at me, and Ryan was averting his gaze from my general direction. Shaye was blowing kisses and giggling, but everyone else in the house was silent. Ryan’s face was spread with an embarrassed look. I rested my face in Brendon’s shirt, burying my frustration.

“Want to sleep over tonight?” Brendon’s calming voice was quiet enough for just me to hear. I nodded my head. “Good, we’ll do girly things like facials, and nails. I mean, seriously, look at these freaking nail beds. Don’t they just, like, totally suck? OH EM GEE!” He imitated. I laughed. I looked up at Brendon’s smiling face, and almost saw Ryan’s. But I had to forget about Ryan. I mean, we could still be friends, but never again to the extent that we used to be. I tried my best to disregard the tears forming in my eyes.



*


“Why is it that your parents are never home, Brendon? I’ve never even met them once, and I’ve been here about a trillion times!” I laughed once more as Brendon looked at me, using a chic pose from the movie Zoolander, which was playing on the television. I had given his hair a few ponytails to keep the hair out of his face, and he’d let me give him a facial with his mother’s clay masque.

“Ugh, when do I get to take this stuff off? It makes my face feel stiff and weird. They’re always away at some church convention thing that takes place every weekend. And they always need to do shopping or community service. I never get lonely though, since you’ve been here a trillion times in the last three months.” He grinned. I patted his shoulder. He was wearing plaid long johns and a black t-shirt with some American band on it. I was wearing the exact same thing, except my shirt had a different band. I had let him put my hair up in pigtails just like his, and my face was smeared with the exact facial masque he was wearing.

I asked, “Twin?” He nodded his head. “Is there any popcorn?”

“No, but d’you want to go out and get some?”

“Out to a store, you mean? Dressed like this? And at two o’clock in the morning?” I asked, my eyebrow arched. His smile reappeared.

“Oh, why not? By the time we get back, the pizza will be done.” I scrunched my face up.

“Fine. Let’s go.”


*

I linked arms with Brendon as we walked into a sinister strip mall. Before we left, we’d washed off our face masques and took out our pigtails. It was dark, and there were a rowdy bunch of teenagers somewhere in the dim parking lot, their laughter echoing. I was drawn back in fear leaning in closely to Brendon. He didn’t seem afraid at all. The only light was from inside the shops, shining on the pavement, which looked rather shady. We went into the Mac store, and looked around for a few minutes, saying nothing. We quickly found the popcorn and paid for it, receiving nasty and confused looks from the store manager. Brendon’s fingers were soon interlaced with my own as we left the store.

“Oh, look who it is, so early in the morning. What’re you buying, Urie?”

I turned around to be face to face with Ace Hankinson, possibly the most popular boy at Bishop Gorman, even though it wasn’t apparent why. He wasn’t very good looking, and he was only mediocre at football. If he didn’t have such large muscles and a big posse with him, I wouldn’t have been so intimidated.

“I’m just buying popcorn, if that’s alright.” Brendon must have looked braver than he felt. He was shaking, and I could feel it from only holding his hand.

“And a hooker, looks like.”

“Excuse me?” I said, stepping forward. They all just laughed. Maybe because I was only 5’3 weighing at 106 pounds, or maybe it was because I was in my pyjamas, but it didn’t bother me at all. “You just mind your own business, Ace Hankinson, and leave me and Brendon alone.” He scoffed and the boys around him ‘ooooooh’ed and shifted their stance.

“Don’t you dare call me by my first name.” He thrusted his arms into my chest which sent me staggering backwards.

“Don’t touch her.” Brendon’s fists were clenched at his sides. His voice was deep and frightening. I was standing behind Brendon, my hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to back off. I knew that there was no positive outcome for us in this fight.

Ace snorted. “Shut the fuck up you-” His speech was cut short as Brendon punched him squarely in the jaw. I covered my mouth with my hands. Hankinson stood there for a moment, rubbing his jaw. I had seen it before in many movies, and the entire scenario seemed cliché, but at that point, I really hadn’t noticed. His anger escalated in a millisecond, and punches were thrown at Brendon. I was desperately trying to pull Hankinson off of Brendon. Hankinson got up quickly, turned around and started to walk away, chatting dully to his ‘crew’ receiving pats on his back as if he had done something brave and heroic.

“C’mon Brendon. We’ll get you back to your place, and we’ll wash up your face, alright?” I rubbed the side of his face. He sat up groggily.

He groaned. “Do I still look hot?” I laughed.

“Of course you do. Never looked better.” I wiped some trickling blood out of the corner of his mouth. His mouth curved into a smile. “Come on, Bren, I’ll drive you home.”

“No, I’ll drive, for the sake of both of our lives.” He laughed. I smiled.


*


“Don’t even think about Ryan.” Brendon pulled me in closer to him.

“But- I-”

“Don’t do it!” He warned. I laughed half-heartedly. “If he wants to be with that counterfeit prom queen, an idiotic decision in my eyes, then so be it. He doesn’t know what he just missed.” I ruffled his hair affectionately.

“Gosh, am I ever tired.” I was blatantly attempting to change the subject. Brendon nodded. We were lying in his bed in the basement; the furnace was whirring smoothly in the background, allowing heat to finally flood the cold basement. The lights were off since we promised that we were going to bed, but as soon as the lights faded, I felt energized. I was resting my head on Brendon’s chest, feeling it rise and fall gently with every inhale and exhale Brendon provided. I felt calmed and supported. I wondered where Ryan was. I hoped that he wasn’t at his house. Anywhere would be better than there for him. I suppose even Shaye’s house. I wouldn’t want to know what they were doing. Brendon inhaled sharply, something he did every time he began to talk.

“Damn it, I think I’m going to start using those face masques more. Just feel these pores!” He exclaimed. I smiled, raising my hand and caressing his cheek.

“Brendon?” I was careful about where I had touched, careful to avoid any fresh bruises before letting my hand retreat back under the covers, resting on my stomach.

“Mhmm?”

“You’re the best.” He was quiet for a minute, almost as if he was deep in thought. His breath was shallower, into quick, nervous inhalations. Nothing was running through my head, which was strange because I always had something to think about.

“Delilah?” His voice seemed quiet, and anxious.

“Mhmm?”

“I might like you.” It was like Brendon suddenly flicked a switch to my thoughts. The truth was, I kind of liked Brendon too. I liked Ryan more, of course, but now, it felt like it was impossible to be with him like I wanted to. Brendon was cute, and sweet. And he had just stood up for me today, knowing that he didn’t have to and getting injured. I wasn’t confused; I was just torn between my feelings. What if Brendon really meant what he said and he wanted to pursue a relationship with me? I could see myself with Brendon. I didn’t know if we looked good together- but that hardly mattered anyways. “I’m sorry.” I looked up at him. Even though it was dark, I could see his silhouette looking back at me.

“Don’t be sorry. I might like you too.” I saw his facial expressions lighten, even with the dim illumination. I squirmed up to lay face to face with him. “You’re extra cute.” I kissed his forehead, just like I used to kiss Ryan’s.

My chin was resting on his chest so I could face him. He started talking once more, “I’ve liked you even before we met, you know.” I smiled and rested my head on the side, not tearing my gaze for a second.

“Really?” I was surprised.

“Mhm. And, maybe it’d be alright- if I asked you out sometime soon?” He looked nervous. I thought it was cute.

“Oh Brendon, of course.” The image of Ryan and me was pushed out of my head. I felt flattered, and a little embarrassed for choosing Ryan over Brendon, and ended up getting forgotten by Ryan in the long run.

He inhaled sharply. “D’you want to go out with me?”

“Oh, Brendon.” I flung my arms around his shoulders and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “Of course!”