Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > A Story of Complications

Chapter 6.

by Wicked_Lovely 0 reviews

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Drama - Published: 2010-12-18 - Updated: 2010-12-19 - 3634 words - Complete

I woke up to the sound of an annoying beeping noise and muffled sobs. I looked over to see Spencer slightly crying. He had dark bags under his bloodshot eyes. I vaguely wondered how long he had been crying. "Spencer." I choked out, my throat hurt, my wrists throbbed, my head pounded, and my entire lower half burned. He looked at me, and gave me a small smile. I smiled back trying to seem happy as I remembered why I had been put in a hospital bed.
"Thank god you're okay. Everyone's been worried about you. They said you got mugged, and raped..." he said the last part as a whisper. I thought it was kind of funny, no one but me would know what actually happened.
"How long has it been?"
"Only a day. But we're canceling tonight's show so you can get some rest."
"There's no point in doing that, I feel fine." I said sitting up. It hurt like crazy, but I could pretend that it didn't. It wouldn't be the first time that I've had to hide the pain I was in.
"You sure?" I nodded and got up.
"Okay then, let's check you out." he said with a small smile, helping me out of the room. We walked outside to the waiting area to see a sleeping Brendon, I tapped his shoulder. "I'll go on ahead." Spencer left and Brendon opened his eyes.
"You're alive!" he said jumping up and hugging me. I pulled in a quick breath of air, and Brendon let go. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I'm happy to see you." he helped me down the hall and to an elevator.
"I shouldn't have gone to that party with Pete." he said once we were in the elevator. We were the only two in there.
"Why not?" I leaned against the cool wall, breathing out slowly, trying to help make the pain less severe.
"Because then I wouldn't have been drunk, and you wouldn't have gone out looking for me. I can't even remember what I did that night. I just woke up naked next to Pete." So they thought that I had gone out looking for him and Pete? Okay, I could go with that.
"Don't blame yourself. I shouldn't have gone out alone. Besides, no one's really to blame."
"I still feel bad about it." he looked down at his shoes. His adorable face looking slightly sad. I hugged him.
"Don't feel sad, it's not your fault. And I hate it when you look sad." He gave me a small smile. We walked out of the elevator and I saw Spencer at the desk. "I'll be right back." I said as Brendon walked over to Spencer. I walked into the small gift shop, buying a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. I had to admit, I was addicted. I walked over to Spencer and Brendon, and they both smiled at me. "Where's Jon?" I asked when I realized that he was no where to be seen.
"He went to check out of the hotel, and get the bus. It was an hour ago, so he should be here soon." Spencer said walking out of the building with Brendon and I following close behind.
"I really want some coffee." Brendon smiled wide.
"LET'S GO GET COFFEE!" He screamed
"You get decaf." Spencer said as we started to walk down the street. We talked as we looked for a coffee shop, none of us bringing up what had happened. We walked into a small cafe, walking to a back booth. The waitress came up, and Brendon being the social butterfly that he is, distracted her from her job. But eventually we manged to order drinks and Spencer called Jon, telling him where we were. Apparently Jon was talking to Pete, and had been for the past hour. I wondered if Pete remembered what he and Brendon had done. We sat, most of the time listening to Brendon go on, and on, and on, about nothing, but it was nice. Not really having to do anything, not having to worry about anything, just sitting and talking. And then Jon came in with Pete. They found us and Jon smiled. Pete looked a mess, eyes bloodshot from crying, he very obviously hadn't done anything with his hair, so he had major bed head. And he looked pale, with dark bags under his eyes that just intensified the his pale skin. They sat down at our booth, three to one side, with Spencer on my right, and Pete on my left. And two to the other, Jon on the left, and Brendon on the right.
"Hey Peter Rabbit." Brendon giggled. "Why so glum?"
"Yeah, you're like that Pokemon, what was it called?" Spencer asked.
"Gloom?" I asked laughing a little.
"Yeah that one!" Pete just took my coffee and drank all of it, not bothering to say anything. Everyone continued to talk, most of us laughing and having a good time. Except for Pete and I. He just looked miserable, and his emotions just rubbed off onto me.
"Hey Ryan?" Pete said, and everyone went quite. It was after all, the first thing he had said, and we had been there for over a half an hour.
"Can I talk to you?" I nodded and he got out of the booth and I followed him.
"Be right back." I said to the others with a small smile.
I followed Pete outside, pulling out my pack of cigarettes, and my lighter. "What do you want to talk about?" I asked lighting one of the cancer sticks.
"When did you start that habit?" he asked as we began to walk.
"Not to long ago."
"You look like you've been doing it for years. That's a nasty habit."
"Again, what did you want to talk about?"
"I did something the other night, didn't I?" We walked past a park and I started to walk towards the swing set.
"Yeah, of course you did, you went out partying. You had a few drinks, Brendon had a few drinks, and then you made it back to the hotel room. And I was mugged." I said with a small shrug, sitting down on the swing.
"Other than that." He whispered, sitting down next to me. "I can only remember a few things. Little bits and pieces, but the things I do remember..." He trailed off sighing a little. "I did a horrible thing to you, didn't I?" I bit my lip. I just wish he was drunk enough not to remember anything that had happened. I hated remembering it.
"No, you didn't do anything. You probably just watched a horror movie or something and placed yourself in the picture." I said with a shrug.
"Then why was the hotel room such a mess when I woke up? Why was there blood on the sheets?"
"It must be Brendon's time of month."
"This isn't a joke Ryan! If I did something bad, I want you to tell me." I looked at him, tears were running down his face, and I felt bad.
"I'm sorry." I whispered. He grabbed my wrist and I winced in pain as he rolled the sleeves up to look at the full damage.
"If you were mugged, then the muggers wouldn't bother tying up your arms. So why do you have bruises and cuts?" I didn't want him to think he did anything bad. Especially to me. I don't know what he would do if he knew the truth, if he knew the pain he and Brendon caused me. Time to put my acting skills to the test. I pretended to blush.
"Maybe I like it rough." I said looking down.
We had about a minute of silence, that was then broken by Pete. "Whatever happened to your girlfriend?"
"She dumped me. I'm not good enough for her." I'm not good enough for anyone. But I couldn't bring myself to say that.
"Thank god, she was a bitch. Besides, you're way to good for her." He said laughing a little. "So I really didn't do anything bad?"
"No." I said giving him a small smile before standing up and putting my hand out for him to take. He pulled himself out of the swing, and I put my cigarette out. We walked back to the cafe, and soon after we were told to go to the nights venue.
The rest of the night went without incident, the worst thing being that I couldn't sleep. I just kept picturing that night, and hoping that it would go away, and never happen again.
Three weeks passed, Brendon got drunk just about ever night, and when he woke up with a hangover, he would snort some drug, even if it was just Tylenol, to numb the pain. The worst part? He was abusive when he was drunk, he'd yell and scream, he'd hit me, and more than once he raped me. But whenever he was sober, I would be nice to him, acting like nothing really happened. Taking care of him to the best of my abilities. Even when he was drunk I'd look after him. I'd get him to the hotel or bus making sure he didn't ever get into too much trouble. And he didn't even seem to notice. Neither did Spencer or Jon. I'd started self hurting myself again, and to add to that bad habit I had my addiction to cancer sticks. I barley ever talked to my band mates. Maybe one or two words a day if they were lucky. But now the tour was at it's end, and this was the last show. I knew I would be dragged to some god awful club, with bad music and cheap champagne after the show was over. And that I would have to drag Spencer's, Brendon's, and Jon's, drunken asses to my apartment.
It was about five minutes till we had to be onstage, and Brendon was on his fourth shot. "Ryan~ Are you ready to play our last show?" I nodded, and he smiled, pulling me off of the couch that was in the dressing room. "Do my makeup!"
"Pass me the bottle of tequila?" He asked with a small smile as I started to apply some eyeliner.
"No. No more until after the show." I said, he opened one of his eyes, a small pout forming on his face.
"Why not?" I shook my head and finished putting makeup on his face. When I was finished, he slapped me. "Don't you tell me what I can and can't do!" I nodded my head.
"I'm sorry." I muttered and he took a nice gulp from the bottle before going to the curtain, I followed behind, standing next to Spencer.
"Did you hit your face?" It was amazing how oblivious he could be sometimes.
Yeah, I tripped."
"You're so clumsy." he said giving me a huge grin. And then we went out onto the stage. And I was right, after the concert, I was dragged to a dumb club.
Peter was making out with some chick I'm pretty sure he didn't even know, and Brendon was smoking some form of a joint with a group of people that were doing shots and snorting coke. I couldn't stand the noise and attempted to find an empty room with few people. It took a good fifteen minutes, but I found one. It had a single bartender, and two tables. One couch that had Patrick on it.
"Not drinking?" He asked with a smile as I sat down next to him.
"No, you know me, I hate alcohol, and what it turns people into."
"Brendon hit you?" he asked pushing my hair back and looking at the bruise that had formed on my face. He kind of had a similar problem, so why not tell him?
"Yeah. I told him he should only have four shots before preforming. Silly me." I said putting my head on my hands.
"Hey, it happens to me all the time." he said putting his hand on my back.
"Pete hit's you two?" I asked choking back a sob.
"Well, no. But you know him, he'll do just about anything. But after tours, he calms down. And he starts doing less. To the point he can function like a normal human being again. I'm sure if Brendon doesn't have Pete to take him to party's, he'll calm down two." He said giving me a small smile. I nodded.
"I hope."
"What else dose he do when he's drunk?"
"Yeah, Brendon."
"He mainly yells and hits me. But it's okay. It's because I'm trying to get him to go back to the bus or hotel, or I'm trying to make him change into pajamas. Or I'm taking away whatever bottle he currently has."
"That's it? Well, it could be worse. At least he doesn't rape you or anything." he said trying to cheer me up. I burst into tears. It was funny, I thought I had lost the ability to cry. He pulled me close to him, and I rested my head on his shoulder. "It's going to be okay. If he doesn't get better, we'll do something about it. Okay?" I nodded. I cried while he tried to comfort me for about fifteen minutes.
"Patrick! Pete's trying to have sex on the bar downstairs!" Joe yelled. Patrick just shook his head and stood up.
"Everything will be fine." He gave me a small smile and then left with Joe. I just sat there, trying to regester everything that had happened. But mainly, I was trying to figure out how Patrick thought everything was going to be okay. I sat there for about twenty minutes before deciding I wanted to go home. Which meant that it was time for Brendon, Spencer, and Jon to come with me.
I set off to start looking for the three of them. It was easy to find Jon. He was already half asleep on a table. I practically carried him around until I found Spencer, who was attempting to sing karaoke while drinking a bottle of beer. So now I was dragging around two full grown men, twice my size. They were heavy as hell. I screamed at them multiple times to at least try to walk. But I knew I had to take care of them. Because they certainly weren't capable of taking care of themselves at the moment. I was the responsible one. Because the others didn't know what the word meant. I found Brendon high as a kite, dancing on a table with only his boxers on. He was screaming about someone he used to love. I helped him down, and held his hand, while having Spencer on my back, and Jon hanging from the my arm. I manged to hail a cab, and gave them the directions to my apartment. I sat in the front of the cab, with the other three behind me. Brendon was talking nonsense to the cabbie about how he loved the color of his car, and if he could buy the car from him. He was sitting in between Jon and Spencer. Spencer was still slightly singing to himself, and Jon was snoring. Loudly.
We pulled up to the apartment building and I apologized for the others bad behavior. He was nice about it. Saying that it happened all the time. But it didn't give me all that much comfort. I dragged them up to my room, Brendon was constantly trying to wonder off. First he wanted to play with a dog that was barking constantly at us, and then he wanted to pet a fake palm tree by the staircase. After we got up to the third floor, he decided that he lived in one of the rooms. I was practically carrying Jon already, so I got pretty mad at Brendon, but I tried to be as nice as possible to him, letting Spencer lean on a wall, as I carried Jon on my back, I would go over to wherever it was he ran off to, pull on his collar and drag him back over. We made it to my room and I unlocked the door, handing the key to Brendon as I took Jon and Spencer to my room. They would just have to share my bed, and Brendon could sleep in his bed. He looked at the key in amazement, like he had never seen anything quite like it before. It would have been funny, if I didn't know it was because of all the drugs he had taken.
Getting Spencer and Jon to the room was the easy thing, getting them in to pajamas, that was hard. They would struggle, and they would whine like little kids. Eventually, I just got frustrated and gave up. I walked downstairs to see Brendon eating something he had found in the kitchen. I guessed it was one of his boxes of cereal.
"Brendon, it's time to go to bed."
"I don't want to. You're always so mean to me." he slurred. I nodded.
"Of course I am. So put that box away and go to your room."
"Brendon, you're acting like a little kid."
"But I'm not tired."
"Just do it." He got up, tackling me into the counter, the edge dug into my side where I had gotten stabbed. I gasped for air, falling to the floor, as pain shot through me like a needle had injected it.
"I win!" he said punching my arm and running away. I just allowed myself to sit there for a few minutes, trying to catch my breath and make the pain hurt less. When the pain lowered, I stood trying to find Brendon. He was passed out on the floor in front of the couch. I laughed a little, it looked like he had tried to get on the couch, but just slightly missed. He was curled up in a small ball, and he looked so child like. But he still looked as handsome as ever. I just wished he could see how much I loved him. I picked him up, carrying his heavy body to his bed. I put him down gently, going threw his drawers to find some pajamas from him.
"Ryan.."he mumbled, his hand was in the air, and it looked like he was trying to grasp something. I walked over to him, with some fresh clothing in hand.
"Yes?" I helped him sit upright, putting a t-shirt on him.
"You look sick." he said looking at me frowning. I looked him in the eyes, they didn't look glossy anymore, and his pupils were no longer dilated.
"What do you mean?" I furrowed my brow, he just wasn't making any sense, even if he was sobering up.
"You have bags under your eyes, and their all blood shoot, and your cheeks are tear stained. You also look really thin." I sighed a little. I really didn't want to have this conversation with him.
"You're drunk. Go to bed." I said trying to get him to lay back down. He did without much protest. I pulled the blankets over him, and he grabbed it, hugging it close to his chest like a child would with a stuffed animal.
"Are you going to leave?" he whispered, almost asleep. He sounded so cute, I wished I could just jump on him and give him a kiss. But that would be bad.
"No, I'm just going to change, okay?" He nodded, closing his eyes and snuggling in till he was totally comfy. I changed into a band tee, and a pair of shorts and went on a hunt for a blanket and a pillow. It took a while of searching through multiple closets, but I found a blanket, and I took the extra pillow off of Brendon's bed. I put the blanket on the floor, putting the pillow at the top of it, and sprawled out onto the blanket. I was exhausted. I hadn't slept in days, and today was one of the most energy consuming days in a while.
I woke up to someone tripping over me and the sound of a crash. I sat up to see Brendon face down on the floor.
"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be in the way." I said crawling over to him to see if he was okay. He looked at me and smiled a little.
"I'm fine." He hugged me and I groaned. I didn't even know what time it was, but I was feeling sick, and to add to that, my stitches hurt like a bitch.
"Brendon, that fucking hurt." He was completely laying on top of me, smiling at me with his elbows on my shoulders, and his head in his hands.
"I'm sorry." he said still smiling at me.
"You're crushing me."
"What am I supposed to do about that?" he asked giggling a little. Now he was just being obnoxious.
"Please get off of me. I'm really tired."
"Ryan, why do you have cuts on your wrists?" I looked away, not wanting to answer. I had forgotten that I wasn't wearing sleeves. "Ryaaaaaannnn. Why won't you tell me? You look really sick."
"I am sick Brendon, and you're drunk." I felt tears forming in my eyes, but I still refused to turn my head to look at him.
"I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you?" he rubbed his thumb over my wrist, and I hoped that everything was still fuzzy for him.
"Sure." he rolled over to where he was right next to me, and wrapped his arms around my waist.
"Goodnight Ryan."
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