Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Bedtime Stories
George Ryan Ross's funeral was head on April 10th.
Two days before Brendon's birthday.
He spent the first half of the day debating on whether or not he should go. It wasn't until after Spencer called asking if he would be there for Jon. For all of them.
So Brendon dressed in black, drinking from a bottle of vodka as he waited for the time to leave came. He waited until a minute after the service had started until he crept threw the doors, sitting in the last bench even though there were only four booths that were filled.
Everyone was there. Ex-friends, old friends, bandmates. The only people that were missing that had been in his life was his family. Not a single member showed up.
Most of the people were crying, only a few of them being able to hold it together, or at the least give a solemn face.
Brendon was the exception from the rule. He couldn't look up at the closed casket. He couldn't look at his crying friends. He couldn't listen to the music that the horrible pianist was playing. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. He didn't make a sound. If someone were to see him they wouldn't even be able to tell if he was alive or not.
Before he knew it, the service was over. Everyone walking out of the hall. Brendon sat there, not making a single move. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and then he heard talking.
"Take as long as you need Brenny. We'll be waiting outside for you." He could tell it was Spencer's voice, but the words didn't process. It just sounded like a jumble of sounds and syllables, not a single word was heard or understood. He heard the door to the building close, now having a view at the closed casket that Ryan's body hid behind.
They said that when they found him he didn't have any blood in his body, a few animals had started to eat away at his flesh as the water attempted to decompose the rest.
Brendon got up, walking down row after row of empty benches. He wanted to see his body, no matter how destroyed it was.
Just one last time.
He unlocked the casket, pulling the lid up. Brendon's face became a deathly pale. His hand flew up to his mouth as he choked back a sob. He fell to his knees, finding it impossible to stand as he gazed at the dismembered beauty that was what Ryan had become.
His skin had lost all of it's color, though his lips kept their rosy appearance. It set a hollow feeling in Brendon's stomach. His face was extremely scratched almost to the point of making it to where Brendon couldn't recognize him.
A large gash was present on his forehead, the skin separating enough that you could see his skull, which was practically bleach white. There was an animal looking scratch going over his left eye, which didn't really matter since both of his eyes seemed almost deflated. Brendon started to shake as he clutched onto the edge of the casket, his nails digging into the white silk that lined the inside of Ryan's coffin. There was a large hole on the right side of his cheek, showing the inside of his mouth. As far as Brendon could tell, three of his teeth had been ripped out, allowing him to peer in at his tongue. The sight made Brendon physically sick. Lower down part of Ryan's suit was visible, the majority of his skin being covered either by the fabric or the other half of the lid.
Jon had told Brendon that he was to be cremated later in the day, and Brendon couldn't help but wonder why they didn't just do it to start with instead of waiting.
He bit his bottom lip, still looking at the older boy. He allowed one of his hands to go to his pocket, pulling out a small silver ring with a small red gem on it. He had always wanted to give it to Ryan, he just never had the chance. It was thin and tiny, not half of the price of a normal one, but he knew that Ryan would love it anyway. He placed it by his side, kissing his hand before placing his hand on the cheek that wasn't occupied with a large hole.
Brendon stood, closing the case and locking it once more. He knew that most people would regret the decision of opening it, but for Brendon, it was completely worth it. He thought about leaving, but ended up deciding that he wasn't ready. At least, not yet.
So he settled on sitting at the piano bench, his fingers resting on the keys as he thought about what to play. He ended up deciding on Ghost of You by Good Charlotte, thinking that it was appropriate for the situation he was currently in.
He refused to sing, his lips not moving other than to quiver as he thought about what was happening. He didn't make a sound other than the strangled choking sound from holding in the tears that threatened to fall. And yet, there was a faint sound of two people singing. A man and a woman. Or more, a teen boy and a young female adult. He recognized one of the voices.
Brendon hesitantly lifted his head, shocked by what he saw. There before him, stood, or rather danced, a transparent Ryan. Dressed to impress. There were no wounds on his face, but as he danced with what Brendon remembered to be Ryan's mother from a picture he once showed him, he could tell that Ryan was wearing the small ring he had placed in the coffin.
Brendon stopped playing, staring in shock at the scene before him. He glanced to the closed mahogany coffin, noting that there was no way any of this could be happening. He prayed for it to be some ridiculous prank from Spencer and Jon.
That the whole thing was just a sick set up.
The short separation of Jon and Spencer's relationship, the broken Ryan that had stormed out of his apartment, the suicide...Everything. He wanted it all to just be fake.
But as Ryan's young and perfect looking face turned to look at Brendon he knew that it wasn't fake. He dropped his mothers hand, the two of them obviously disapproving the fact that the song they had just been singing and dancing to was now gone.
Brendon's mouth went dry, his hands starting to feel clammy as he stared at the transparent Ryan. "Why did you stop?" That was definitely the sound of Ryan's voice.
He took in a shaky breath, putting his fingers back to the keys as he started to play again, changing the song to We Believe. More music seemed to fill the hall, all mixing with the sound of Brendon's fingers playing the keys while he watched Ryan and his mother dance to the song.
They looked happy, young.
Alive.
Ryan had once told Brendon that his mother died of cancer when she was young, and that was why his father was such a fuck up. Brendon had to believe it, he had never met the woman, and he had only met Ryan's father once.
He took in every detail of Ryan and his mother, watching as they waltzed around Ryan's coffin. Brendon knew it didn't really go with the song, but they just wanted to dance, and Brendon was helping them with that.
Ryan was wearing his best, a white frilled shirt under his favorite vest, a tie sticking out of it slightly in the way he loved to do. Brendon was known for telling Ryan just how amazing he looked in that vest when he wore it. Ryan also had a tight pair of black jeans on, his hair perfect. It was the old Ryan that Brendon had always loved. Hell, he always loved Ryan, even after he changed. He was wearing his black shoes that shined slightly. Brendon had always hated those damned shoes.
His mother was just as gorgeous as he was. Long curly red hair, and the same honey over amber eyes that Brendon had always loved. She was wearing a red dress, one that spun out when she twirled, moving with the same amount of elegance as herself. Brendon had to admit it, Ryan most definitely got his personality from his mother. The dress went down to her knees, and she was wearing black heels to go with the crimson dress, her hair pent up with a silver beret that matched some of the lining of her flowing dress.
The song ended and the mother smiled, kissing Ryan on the cheek before waving to Brendon. She practically evaporated, Brendon sitting there as he tried to remember to breathe. Ryan walked over to him. His shoes didn't make a sound as he stepped on the wooden floor, which was somewhat surprising considering the fact that it was all Brendon could hear when he had been walking down the hall earlier.
Ryan put his hand on Brendon's cheek; A cold sensation that went down Brendon's spine. It wasn't right. It wasn't the same warm and smooth hand he was used to. All it felt like was cold electricity.
"You have to keep living, okay Brenny?" Ryan asked as he looked down at Brendon, holding his face so Brendon couldn't look away. Brendon gave a confused look and Ryan's hand pulled away form his face, sitting down on the bench. Brendon found it impossible to look away. He wanted to. After all, just thinking that this was real was driving him mad, but actually seeing Ryan...Hearing his voice...It was just too much.
"Brendon, listen to me." Brendon nodded, his eyes unblinking as he stared at transparent Ryan. "Please tell me you'll keep living. Not just for you, but for me."
"Ok-ay." Brendon said, his voice cracking as he spoke in a low voice. Ryan's cold and electrified lips met Brendon's. If it was any other occasion with any other person, Brendon would have jumped back from the shock. But this was Ryan. The boy who's body was in a coffin not to far away.
Ryan pulled away, kissing Brendon's cheek gently. He was disappearing now. "I love you Brenny." His voice sounded distant, his body gone. There was only a faint outline, and it quickly disappeared. Brendon stared at the space where Ryan had been sitting. He regretted not saying how much he loved Ryan back.
He regretted not saying it sooner to begin with. He regretted not being able to stop all of this before it had even happened. It almost seemed like all he could do was regret.
His fingers found the keys once more, his fingers trailing over the smooth white keys individually. Tears started to form in his eyes.
This was it. He really truly was gone now. Ryan was no more.
He let the tears fall, feeling them run across his face and down his nose, dripping onto the piano that he stared at threw blurred eyes. He shook with every strangled sob, trying to keep his head up as he cried. It was the first time since he found out what had happened, and yet, it felt good to be able to just cry it out.
Brendon calmed down. He was sure it took at least an hour for him to fully calm down, but when he did he stood, wiping some stray tears away.
Ryan was gone, but Brendon could keep living.
He walked to the door, walking out to find that Spencer and Jon were still waiting for him. In fact, practically everyone was still waiting for him. Once again, he felt that if it was on any other day or any other occasion, he would feel embarrassed. And yet, he didn't.
Jon passed him a half smoked cigarette, everyone in the group of ten-plus staying silent as Brendon took a drag on it, staring up at the sky as he slowly exhaled the smoke.
The clouds were moving out, the sun raining down to make the water covered ground below shine. Brendon gave a small sigh.
Ryan was gone, but he could still live. He had to live. Not just form him, but for Ryan. For both of them. To make up for not being there.
Brendon let a small smile grace his lips, taking another drag of the cigarette. He handed it back to Jon, who passed it to Spencer. He blew the smoke out, laughing a little to himself.
Everything that happened that day wasn't right, but he knew that it had to be.
And he was just going to deal with it.
To be born is to die.
Because no one lived forever.
He was going to fix things.
Everything.
He was going to rekindle old relationships, fix things that had gone wrong. He'll keep up with all of his friends, and just enjoy life.
For him.
And for Ryan.
~~~~~
Last chapter. This story is now dead.
Which I guess means that I can go back to other stories. Maybe try and finish some of them.
And to everyone who is reading this that also read The Vegas Strip, I WILL be making a sequel. Eventually. I have a few ideas, I just need to allow them to form a little better and then find time to start writing it.
PartyPoison:Being unpredictable is kind of my thing. This one time I was starting to have a falling out with one of my (only) friends. It was some big fight (I can't ever remember what it was about), and he sent me this very angry message that pretty much said "Screw it, if you don't want to be my friend anymore, than don't." That's obviously just a summery, it was actually a LOT longer. Anyway, it took me about an hour before I called him and apologized. He kind of freaked out and told me that if I was any other person that I probably would have just responded with a "Fuck you." instead of apologizing.
That is exactly what I was trying to say. I feel like knowing science and psychology and what-not makes it a lot easier to make intense stories. Not sure why, just dose.
I've really been neglecting some of my other stories. And I've realized this, yet I haven't done ANYTHING to help it. Which I'm sure is annoying plenty of people. Updates will come eventually though.
Hopefully.
patdfan:It's feeling better now that I've tried to do less straining on my hands. (Like typing three chapters a day.) Life Is Full of False Hopes has really REALLY been neglected recently. I look at it, for a moment and pull it up. I place my fingers on the keys and then sigh. Because I don't fucking know what to write. It's driving me insane. It's my best story that I'm still working on, and I still can't seem to write anything for it.
Oh well. I'm just going to hope that no one will really notice how long it took.
This wasn't too happy of an ending, but at least only one person died. That's good. Right?
Right.
Okay, I'm glad you like it. :)
Well, liked it.
Because now it's dead.
-xoxo Pansy.
Two days before Brendon's birthday.
He spent the first half of the day debating on whether or not he should go. It wasn't until after Spencer called asking if he would be there for Jon. For all of them.
So Brendon dressed in black, drinking from a bottle of vodka as he waited for the time to leave came. He waited until a minute after the service had started until he crept threw the doors, sitting in the last bench even though there were only four booths that were filled.
Everyone was there. Ex-friends, old friends, bandmates. The only people that were missing that had been in his life was his family. Not a single member showed up.
Most of the people were crying, only a few of them being able to hold it together, or at the least give a solemn face.
Brendon was the exception from the rule. He couldn't look up at the closed casket. He couldn't look at his crying friends. He couldn't listen to the music that the horrible pianist was playing. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. He didn't make a sound. If someone were to see him they wouldn't even be able to tell if he was alive or not.
Before he knew it, the service was over. Everyone walking out of the hall. Brendon sat there, not making a single move. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and then he heard talking.
"Take as long as you need Brenny. We'll be waiting outside for you." He could tell it was Spencer's voice, but the words didn't process. It just sounded like a jumble of sounds and syllables, not a single word was heard or understood. He heard the door to the building close, now having a view at the closed casket that Ryan's body hid behind.
They said that when they found him he didn't have any blood in his body, a few animals had started to eat away at his flesh as the water attempted to decompose the rest.
Brendon got up, walking down row after row of empty benches. He wanted to see his body, no matter how destroyed it was.
Just one last time.
He unlocked the casket, pulling the lid up. Brendon's face became a deathly pale. His hand flew up to his mouth as he choked back a sob. He fell to his knees, finding it impossible to stand as he gazed at the dismembered beauty that was what Ryan had become.
His skin had lost all of it's color, though his lips kept their rosy appearance. It set a hollow feeling in Brendon's stomach. His face was extremely scratched almost to the point of making it to where Brendon couldn't recognize him.
A large gash was present on his forehead, the skin separating enough that you could see his skull, which was practically bleach white. There was an animal looking scratch going over his left eye, which didn't really matter since both of his eyes seemed almost deflated. Brendon started to shake as he clutched onto the edge of the casket, his nails digging into the white silk that lined the inside of Ryan's coffin. There was a large hole on the right side of his cheek, showing the inside of his mouth. As far as Brendon could tell, three of his teeth had been ripped out, allowing him to peer in at his tongue. The sight made Brendon physically sick. Lower down part of Ryan's suit was visible, the majority of his skin being covered either by the fabric or the other half of the lid.
Jon had told Brendon that he was to be cremated later in the day, and Brendon couldn't help but wonder why they didn't just do it to start with instead of waiting.
He bit his bottom lip, still looking at the older boy. He allowed one of his hands to go to his pocket, pulling out a small silver ring with a small red gem on it. He had always wanted to give it to Ryan, he just never had the chance. It was thin and tiny, not half of the price of a normal one, but he knew that Ryan would love it anyway. He placed it by his side, kissing his hand before placing his hand on the cheek that wasn't occupied with a large hole.
Brendon stood, closing the case and locking it once more. He knew that most people would regret the decision of opening it, but for Brendon, it was completely worth it. He thought about leaving, but ended up deciding that he wasn't ready. At least, not yet.
So he settled on sitting at the piano bench, his fingers resting on the keys as he thought about what to play. He ended up deciding on Ghost of You by Good Charlotte, thinking that it was appropriate for the situation he was currently in.
He refused to sing, his lips not moving other than to quiver as he thought about what was happening. He didn't make a sound other than the strangled choking sound from holding in the tears that threatened to fall. And yet, there was a faint sound of two people singing. A man and a woman. Or more, a teen boy and a young female adult. He recognized one of the voices.
Brendon hesitantly lifted his head, shocked by what he saw. There before him, stood, or rather danced, a transparent Ryan. Dressed to impress. There were no wounds on his face, but as he danced with what Brendon remembered to be Ryan's mother from a picture he once showed him, he could tell that Ryan was wearing the small ring he had placed in the coffin.
Brendon stopped playing, staring in shock at the scene before him. He glanced to the closed mahogany coffin, noting that there was no way any of this could be happening. He prayed for it to be some ridiculous prank from Spencer and Jon.
That the whole thing was just a sick set up.
The short separation of Jon and Spencer's relationship, the broken Ryan that had stormed out of his apartment, the suicide...Everything. He wanted it all to just be fake.
But as Ryan's young and perfect looking face turned to look at Brendon he knew that it wasn't fake. He dropped his mothers hand, the two of them obviously disapproving the fact that the song they had just been singing and dancing to was now gone.
Brendon's mouth went dry, his hands starting to feel clammy as he stared at the transparent Ryan. "Why did you stop?" That was definitely the sound of Ryan's voice.
He took in a shaky breath, putting his fingers back to the keys as he started to play again, changing the song to We Believe. More music seemed to fill the hall, all mixing with the sound of Brendon's fingers playing the keys while he watched Ryan and his mother dance to the song.
They looked happy, young.
Alive.
Ryan had once told Brendon that his mother died of cancer when she was young, and that was why his father was such a fuck up. Brendon had to believe it, he had never met the woman, and he had only met Ryan's father once.
He took in every detail of Ryan and his mother, watching as they waltzed around Ryan's coffin. Brendon knew it didn't really go with the song, but they just wanted to dance, and Brendon was helping them with that.
Ryan was wearing his best, a white frilled shirt under his favorite vest, a tie sticking out of it slightly in the way he loved to do. Brendon was known for telling Ryan just how amazing he looked in that vest when he wore it. Ryan also had a tight pair of black jeans on, his hair perfect. It was the old Ryan that Brendon had always loved. Hell, he always loved Ryan, even after he changed. He was wearing his black shoes that shined slightly. Brendon had always hated those damned shoes.
His mother was just as gorgeous as he was. Long curly red hair, and the same honey over amber eyes that Brendon had always loved. She was wearing a red dress, one that spun out when she twirled, moving with the same amount of elegance as herself. Brendon had to admit it, Ryan most definitely got his personality from his mother. The dress went down to her knees, and she was wearing black heels to go with the crimson dress, her hair pent up with a silver beret that matched some of the lining of her flowing dress.
The song ended and the mother smiled, kissing Ryan on the cheek before waving to Brendon. She practically evaporated, Brendon sitting there as he tried to remember to breathe. Ryan walked over to him. His shoes didn't make a sound as he stepped on the wooden floor, which was somewhat surprising considering the fact that it was all Brendon could hear when he had been walking down the hall earlier.
Ryan put his hand on Brendon's cheek; A cold sensation that went down Brendon's spine. It wasn't right. It wasn't the same warm and smooth hand he was used to. All it felt like was cold electricity.
"You have to keep living, okay Brenny?" Ryan asked as he looked down at Brendon, holding his face so Brendon couldn't look away. Brendon gave a confused look and Ryan's hand pulled away form his face, sitting down on the bench. Brendon found it impossible to look away. He wanted to. After all, just thinking that this was real was driving him mad, but actually seeing Ryan...Hearing his voice...It was just too much.
"Brendon, listen to me." Brendon nodded, his eyes unblinking as he stared at transparent Ryan. "Please tell me you'll keep living. Not just for you, but for me."
"Ok-ay." Brendon said, his voice cracking as he spoke in a low voice. Ryan's cold and electrified lips met Brendon's. If it was any other occasion with any other person, Brendon would have jumped back from the shock. But this was Ryan. The boy who's body was in a coffin not to far away.
Ryan pulled away, kissing Brendon's cheek gently. He was disappearing now. "I love you Brenny." His voice sounded distant, his body gone. There was only a faint outline, and it quickly disappeared. Brendon stared at the space where Ryan had been sitting. He regretted not saying how much he loved Ryan back.
He regretted not saying it sooner to begin with. He regretted not being able to stop all of this before it had even happened. It almost seemed like all he could do was regret.
His fingers found the keys once more, his fingers trailing over the smooth white keys individually. Tears started to form in his eyes.
This was it. He really truly was gone now. Ryan was no more.
He let the tears fall, feeling them run across his face and down his nose, dripping onto the piano that he stared at threw blurred eyes. He shook with every strangled sob, trying to keep his head up as he cried. It was the first time since he found out what had happened, and yet, it felt good to be able to just cry it out.
Brendon calmed down. He was sure it took at least an hour for him to fully calm down, but when he did he stood, wiping some stray tears away.
Ryan was gone, but Brendon could keep living.
He walked to the door, walking out to find that Spencer and Jon were still waiting for him. In fact, practically everyone was still waiting for him. Once again, he felt that if it was on any other day or any other occasion, he would feel embarrassed. And yet, he didn't.
Jon passed him a half smoked cigarette, everyone in the group of ten-plus staying silent as Brendon took a drag on it, staring up at the sky as he slowly exhaled the smoke.
The clouds were moving out, the sun raining down to make the water covered ground below shine. Brendon gave a small sigh.
Ryan was gone, but he could still live. He had to live. Not just form him, but for Ryan. For both of them. To make up for not being there.
Brendon let a small smile grace his lips, taking another drag of the cigarette. He handed it back to Jon, who passed it to Spencer. He blew the smoke out, laughing a little to himself.
Everything that happened that day wasn't right, but he knew that it had to be.
And he was just going to deal with it.
To be born is to die.
Because no one lived forever.
He was going to fix things.
Everything.
He was going to rekindle old relationships, fix things that had gone wrong. He'll keep up with all of his friends, and just enjoy life.
For him.
And for Ryan.
~~~~~
Last chapter. This story is now dead.
Which I guess means that I can go back to other stories. Maybe try and finish some of them.
And to everyone who is reading this that also read The Vegas Strip, I WILL be making a sequel. Eventually. I have a few ideas, I just need to allow them to form a little better and then find time to start writing it.
PartyPoison:Being unpredictable is kind of my thing. This one time I was starting to have a falling out with one of my (only) friends. It was some big fight (I can't ever remember what it was about), and he sent me this very angry message that pretty much said "Screw it, if you don't want to be my friend anymore, than don't." That's obviously just a summery, it was actually a LOT longer. Anyway, it took me about an hour before I called him and apologized. He kind of freaked out and told me that if I was any other person that I probably would have just responded with a "Fuck you." instead of apologizing.
That is exactly what I was trying to say. I feel like knowing science and psychology and what-not makes it a lot easier to make intense stories. Not sure why, just dose.
I've really been neglecting some of my other stories. And I've realized this, yet I haven't done ANYTHING to help it. Which I'm sure is annoying plenty of people. Updates will come eventually though.
Hopefully.
patdfan:It's feeling better now that I've tried to do less straining on my hands. (Like typing three chapters a day.) Life Is Full of False Hopes has really REALLY been neglected recently. I look at it, for a moment and pull it up. I place my fingers on the keys and then sigh. Because I don't fucking know what to write. It's driving me insane. It's my best story that I'm still working on, and I still can't seem to write anything for it.
Oh well. I'm just going to hope that no one will really notice how long it took.
This wasn't too happy of an ending, but at least only one person died. That's good. Right?
Right.
Okay, I'm glad you like it. :)
Well, liked it.
Because now it's dead.
-xoxo Pansy.
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