Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Reality Blows
The funny thing was that Brendon actually got sick. A couple of hours after Ryan's visit he started feeling hot alternately cold. Even if his temperature was up the roof he was still shaking violently.
A headache had begun to form too, not different from the pains he experienced when he was having a hangover. Brendon was simply sick.
The singer tried to roll out of bed but his limbs wouldn't obey him. They were weak and wobbly like boiled spaghetti.
How is it possible to get so sick so fast? he asked himself. Brendon felt so tired. He now understood how Sleeping Beauty could sleep for one hundred years at a sitting, or at a sleeping.
Brendon's hazy dark eyes scanned the bedroom. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet. Not a trace of worry or the doppelganger could be seen. Brendon decided that it was safe for him to allow himself to fall asleep.
He closed those hazy eyes and exhaled sharply. It didn't take long until he fell asleep.
____________________________________________________________________
When Brendon woke up again the first thing he saw was Ryan's face. He didn't know for how long he had been sleeping. An hour? A day? A week?
The only thing he knew was that he felt like crap and still wanted to go back to sleep.
As he swallowed a rippling pain crossed his throat. It felt like someone had scattered salt on small wounds inside his throat. He scrunched his eyes closed and whimpered, that also hurt.
Brendon made a small note to himself that talking was painful at the moment.
Ryan stared at Brendon uneasily. "Have you even left the bed since I was here the last time?" he asked slowly. Brendon shook his head briefly, from side to side. Ryan grimaced.
"Oh dear," he breathed. Brendon started feeling worried. He now noticed how the sheets clung to his body because of the sweat that had poured from his pores.
"So you've laid here two days? Shit. I should have never left your side," Ryan said, more to himself than to Brendon. Brendon couldn't imagine the sight Ryan saw. Brendon's face was covered in sweat, his lips slightly parted and he was pale as a sheet. The singer looked like he was dying.
"You need food," Ryan mumbled. Strangely enough, Brendon didn't feel hungry at all. The only thing he craved was alcohol. The singer could have sworn that a drink would make him feel better.
"No," Brendon grunted through clenched teeth. Ryan looked a bit surprised and worry painted his innocent-looking face.
"I'll go make you some soup," the guitarist then said like Brendon's disapproval hadn't mattered. The skinny man exited the room and Brendon could hear his steps walking towards the kitchen. He could do nothing but stay in bed. Even if he tried he couldn't move.
After a couple of minutes Ryan came back with a bowl in his hands. Steam came from it, indicating that its content was newly made and very hot. Ryan sat down on the bed next to Brendon.
"You didn't have much in your fridge but I managed to make something," the older man said. If Brendon had enough powers he would have punched the bowl right across the room. Brendon grimaced and tried to stare Ryan down. The older man turned his gaze away, looking down at the bowl. He let a spoon dance around in the bowl to mix the ingredients up.
Then Ryan took a spoonful of the soup up and started blowing cool air on it. His lips were so close to the spoon and Brendon understood what Ryan was about to do, which made him very angry. He didn't want to be spoon-fed like a damn baby.
Ryan then put his hand, with the spoon in it, to Brendon's mouth. As a protest the singer pursed his lips together. There was no way he would abandon his dignity for this. The warm metal of the spoon pressed against his lips but the younger man still refused to give in.
"Please?" Ryan pleaded, "I just want to help you."
Ryan locked his eyes with Brendon's. Brendon felt a sting of sadness seeing his friend looking so worried.
Reluctantly, Brendon opened his mouth and let the spoon slip into his mouth. Ryan grinned widely, from one ear to the other.
"Good Brendon," he said. The soup tasted like meat, tomatoes and... curry? Brendon kept a straight face not to make Ryan sadder even if the soup was disgusting. It was way too salty and the combinations in it didn't appeal to his taste buds.
After an agonizing hour the soup was gone. Brendon leaned back and was happy to know that he never would have to eat something like that again. Then he felt something very familiar. A pressure. Nature was calling.
"Bathroom!" Brendon said as his eyes widened. Ryan eyes widened too. "Do... Do you... Do you need help with that?" Ryan choked.
Brendon felt so helpless. He nodded slowly as a yes. Ryan shook his head briefly. Brendon imagined that Ryan was in conflict with himself.
"Well, let's go," Ryan whispered. With the older man supporting him, Brendon managed to get inside the bathroom. Ryan helped him to stay standing in front of the toilet.
Ryan blushed and his face turned bright red. He looked away as Brendon did what he had to do. They both then made their way back to the bedroom. Brendon laid down on the bed.
Ryan took the covers and wrapped them around Brendon's body and fluffed his pillow up. Brendon felt like a caterpillar in a cocoon. It felt safe to be surrounded by the soft covers. Ryan put his hand on the singer's forehead before he turned away. Brendon closed his eyes briefly before he opened them in panic.
"Ryan?" Brendon cried out. The older man was on his way to get out of the room. "Yeah?" he replied, standing in the doorway.
"Don't leave me," the singer whispered helplessly. He was afraid to be alone. That was when he wanted alcohol the most and when the scariest things happened, like the appearances of the doppelganger. Ryan returned to the bed where Brendon laid.
Brendon was surprised when Ryan also laid down on the bed. The older man turned Brendon to his side so that he was facing the window and let his long arms snake their way around the singer's body. Brendon could feel the steady rhythm of Ryan's heart against his back and it soothed him. Nothing dangerous could happen with Ryan there.
"Try to rest now. I'll be right here when you wake up," Ryan mumbled into Brendon's ear. The older man then nuzzled his face into the crook of Brendon's neck. That was enough for Brendon to relax the muscles in his body and he drifted off to sleep while counting the beats of Ryan's heart.
A headache had begun to form too, not different from the pains he experienced when he was having a hangover. Brendon was simply sick.
The singer tried to roll out of bed but his limbs wouldn't obey him. They were weak and wobbly like boiled spaghetti.
How is it possible to get so sick so fast? he asked himself. Brendon felt so tired. He now understood how Sleeping Beauty could sleep for one hundred years at a sitting, or at a sleeping.
Brendon's hazy dark eyes scanned the bedroom. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet. Not a trace of worry or the doppelganger could be seen. Brendon decided that it was safe for him to allow himself to fall asleep.
He closed those hazy eyes and exhaled sharply. It didn't take long until he fell asleep.
____________________________________________________________________
When Brendon woke up again the first thing he saw was Ryan's face. He didn't know for how long he had been sleeping. An hour? A day? A week?
The only thing he knew was that he felt like crap and still wanted to go back to sleep.
As he swallowed a rippling pain crossed his throat. It felt like someone had scattered salt on small wounds inside his throat. He scrunched his eyes closed and whimpered, that also hurt.
Brendon made a small note to himself that talking was painful at the moment.
Ryan stared at Brendon uneasily. "Have you even left the bed since I was here the last time?" he asked slowly. Brendon shook his head briefly, from side to side. Ryan grimaced.
"Oh dear," he breathed. Brendon started feeling worried. He now noticed how the sheets clung to his body because of the sweat that had poured from his pores.
"So you've laid here two days? Shit. I should have never left your side," Ryan said, more to himself than to Brendon. Brendon couldn't imagine the sight Ryan saw. Brendon's face was covered in sweat, his lips slightly parted and he was pale as a sheet. The singer looked like he was dying.
"You need food," Ryan mumbled. Strangely enough, Brendon didn't feel hungry at all. The only thing he craved was alcohol. The singer could have sworn that a drink would make him feel better.
"No," Brendon grunted through clenched teeth. Ryan looked a bit surprised and worry painted his innocent-looking face.
"I'll go make you some soup," the guitarist then said like Brendon's disapproval hadn't mattered. The skinny man exited the room and Brendon could hear his steps walking towards the kitchen. He could do nothing but stay in bed. Even if he tried he couldn't move.
After a couple of minutes Ryan came back with a bowl in his hands. Steam came from it, indicating that its content was newly made and very hot. Ryan sat down on the bed next to Brendon.
"You didn't have much in your fridge but I managed to make something," the older man said. If Brendon had enough powers he would have punched the bowl right across the room. Brendon grimaced and tried to stare Ryan down. The older man turned his gaze away, looking down at the bowl. He let a spoon dance around in the bowl to mix the ingredients up.
Then Ryan took a spoonful of the soup up and started blowing cool air on it. His lips were so close to the spoon and Brendon understood what Ryan was about to do, which made him very angry. He didn't want to be spoon-fed like a damn baby.
Ryan then put his hand, with the spoon in it, to Brendon's mouth. As a protest the singer pursed his lips together. There was no way he would abandon his dignity for this. The warm metal of the spoon pressed against his lips but the younger man still refused to give in.
"Please?" Ryan pleaded, "I just want to help you."
Ryan locked his eyes with Brendon's. Brendon felt a sting of sadness seeing his friend looking so worried.
Reluctantly, Brendon opened his mouth and let the spoon slip into his mouth. Ryan grinned widely, from one ear to the other.
"Good Brendon," he said. The soup tasted like meat, tomatoes and... curry? Brendon kept a straight face not to make Ryan sadder even if the soup was disgusting. It was way too salty and the combinations in it didn't appeal to his taste buds.
After an agonizing hour the soup was gone. Brendon leaned back and was happy to know that he never would have to eat something like that again. Then he felt something very familiar. A pressure. Nature was calling.
"Bathroom!" Brendon said as his eyes widened. Ryan eyes widened too. "Do... Do you... Do you need help with that?" Ryan choked.
Brendon felt so helpless. He nodded slowly as a yes. Ryan shook his head briefly. Brendon imagined that Ryan was in conflict with himself.
"Well, let's go," Ryan whispered. With the older man supporting him, Brendon managed to get inside the bathroom. Ryan helped him to stay standing in front of the toilet.
Ryan blushed and his face turned bright red. He looked away as Brendon did what he had to do. They both then made their way back to the bedroom. Brendon laid down on the bed.
Ryan took the covers and wrapped them around Brendon's body and fluffed his pillow up. Brendon felt like a caterpillar in a cocoon. It felt safe to be surrounded by the soft covers. Ryan put his hand on the singer's forehead before he turned away. Brendon closed his eyes briefly before he opened them in panic.
"Ryan?" Brendon cried out. The older man was on his way to get out of the room. "Yeah?" he replied, standing in the doorway.
"Don't leave me," the singer whispered helplessly. He was afraid to be alone. That was when he wanted alcohol the most and when the scariest things happened, like the appearances of the doppelganger. Ryan returned to the bed where Brendon laid.
Brendon was surprised when Ryan also laid down on the bed. The older man turned Brendon to his side so that he was facing the window and let his long arms snake their way around the singer's body. Brendon could feel the steady rhythm of Ryan's heart against his back and it soothed him. Nothing dangerous could happen with Ryan there.
"Try to rest now. I'll be right here when you wake up," Ryan mumbled into Brendon's ear. The older man then nuzzled his face into the crook of Brendon's neck. That was enough for Brendon to relax the muscles in his body and he drifted off to sleep while counting the beats of Ryan's heart.
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