Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Flight 119
Spencer shifted in his seat uncomfortably, taking a sip from the green bottle he was trying to hold in his shaky hands. He thought back to the last time he felt this nervous; memories of arguments and screams coming back. He hadn't felt this anxious since that fateful day, when skin met against skin and it was told to be over. He let his head fall back, closing his eyes as he tried to calm himself down.
Brendon was sitting next to him, hunched over his lyrics spiral as he scribbled fiercely. Spencer knew that what he was writing was dark, something that wasn't meant to be seen by anyone. He had only caught furtive glances at the things Brendon wrote for himself, each one making him more scared than the last. There was a gap between them. A gap that was ever growing and impossible to mind.
Patrick had the window seat in their three person row, his head resting against it as he slept. Based on the contorting of his face, he was having yet another dream based off of the ghosts of his past. They all seemed to be running from something, though it was unclear as to what that something was for Spencer. He understood the other two's concern.
When he had finally decided that the other two boys weren't going to help him calm down, he stood, walking to the front of the plane. It was there, that he picked up the phone, dialing the only number that would always mean something to him.
One ring, two rings, three rings, a groggy voice. "Hello?" Spencer smiled a little, already feeling calmer.
"Hi."
"Spencer, it's three in the fucking morning. Why are you calling me?" Spencer smiled a little at this, loving the way his voice sounded; a mix between anger and understanding. But he could never be mad at Spencer, no matter how hard he tried.
"I wanted to hear your voice." A sigh.
"You're on a plane, right?" Spencer muttered a 'yes.' A soft breath of relief. "Are you having another panic attack?"
"Jon! How could you say that? You and I both know those stopped when the band broke up." Spencer could picture Jon pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Okay. Well, you know nothing bad is going to happen. You and Brendon will get here tomorrow, and I'll take you out to dinner before Ryan and Nick get back from their trip. Sound good?" Spencer knew that Jon was tired of him calling every time he felt a little sick, but he never refused to answer.
"Yeah." Spencer whispered the word, sad the conversation was ending.
"All right. Goodnight Spence, I love you." Spencer smiled.
"I love you too, Jon." The few people around him gave odd looks of disgust, but Spencer ignored it. He loved Jon, and really didn't give a fuck as to what other people thought of him because of it.
"Call me when you land." Jon hung up and Spencer gave a soft and content sigh. He was finally starting to calm down. He made his way back to his seat, collapsing in it. He leaned back and closed his eyes, replaying the conversation he just had with Jon over and over again in his head.
"You were talking to him again, weren't you?" Brendon muttered the words with disgust as soon as Spencer was actually calm. He was still facing his notebook, his pencil holding completely still. Spencer shifted in his seat.
"Why do you have to be such a dick about it? Why can't you just let me talk to him without giving me crap?" The words were angry, though whispered so those around them wouldn't hear. Brendon slammed his pencil down, staring up at Spencer.
"Because they left us Spencer, and you need to understand that."
"They left YOU Brendon, and that's only because you were an ass. You and I both know that." They stared each other down, Brendon's eyes watering.
"I hadn't meant to. And he left me Spencer, isn't that enough?"
"No. You're always moping about him, it's driving me mad! And you've been slowly killing yourself ever since." Brendon's face once again went hard.
"You should have just left with them. Then I could rot in peace."
Spencer sighed. "Brendon, you know I didn't mean it like that." He tried to reason with the broken boy, but he was too late, Brendon already making up his mind to not listen. It was quite for an hour, the plane moving over the Atlantic. Brendon was asleep, and Spencer was growing nervous once more. There was slight turbulence, one jolt hit hard enough to wake Patrick. His tired face looked over at Spencer and Brendon, his lifeless eyes meeting Spencer's. They stared at each other for a few seconds, the plane shaking while they read each others expressions.
Their gaze didn't break until the pilot went over the PA system. "Please make sure your seat belts are fastened folks. We're running into a little bit of turbulence. It's going to get rather bumpy." The plane jerked once more, Spencer gripping onto his arm rest. There was a flash of lightning, the sound of screaming mixed with a clap of thunder, and the smell of smoke rising. The sense of panic Spencer hadn't felt in years was back, and this time it came with vengeance.
Brendon woke to the sound of a bird squawking obnoxiously. He opened his eyes, the sight being a red one. The plane had split into three parts; the tail lost at sea as the middle and front split in half. There was sand in the open end, water filling it enough to go up to Brendon's knees. He smelled gasoline and sea water.
There was a sharp pain in his side, but Brendon ignored it as he looked over at his two friends. Patrick had a large gash on his forehead where the window ha broken and sliced into his skin. Spencer's left arm was bent at an impossible angle, though it looked almost as if he had tried to protect the other two before passing out. The lights in the plane flickered, and he closed his eyes, trying to process what had happened. And then it dawned on him, and he knew he had to get out.
He started with Spencer, picking him up and dragging him out of the wreckage and onto the sandy beach they had crashed into. After that he got Patrick, the pain in his side burning as he dragged the other man onto the beach, letting him fall next to Spencer. Ian and Dallon. He looked around the plane, noticing that most of the seats were empty, the few that weren't being dead bodies. He wandered around, checking for pulses from anyone that was in the plane. There only seemed to be two survivors left, and Brendon had to choke back tears as he forced himself to drag Ryan and Nick's bodies out of the plane.
Once he had decided they were all safe, he broke down, crying into his knees as he stared at what had happened.
The morning came, the sun seeping through the blinds of Jon's room, landing directly on his eyes. He waited the whole day for Spencer's call. It never came.
Brendon was sitting next to him, hunched over his lyrics spiral as he scribbled fiercely. Spencer knew that what he was writing was dark, something that wasn't meant to be seen by anyone. He had only caught furtive glances at the things Brendon wrote for himself, each one making him more scared than the last. There was a gap between them. A gap that was ever growing and impossible to mind.
Patrick had the window seat in their three person row, his head resting against it as he slept. Based on the contorting of his face, he was having yet another dream based off of the ghosts of his past. They all seemed to be running from something, though it was unclear as to what that something was for Spencer. He understood the other two's concern.
When he had finally decided that the other two boys weren't going to help him calm down, he stood, walking to the front of the plane. It was there, that he picked up the phone, dialing the only number that would always mean something to him.
One ring, two rings, three rings, a groggy voice. "Hello?" Spencer smiled a little, already feeling calmer.
"Hi."
"Spencer, it's three in the fucking morning. Why are you calling me?" Spencer smiled a little at this, loving the way his voice sounded; a mix between anger and understanding. But he could never be mad at Spencer, no matter how hard he tried.
"I wanted to hear your voice." A sigh.
"You're on a plane, right?" Spencer muttered a 'yes.' A soft breath of relief. "Are you having another panic attack?"
"Jon! How could you say that? You and I both know those stopped when the band broke up." Spencer could picture Jon pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Okay. Well, you know nothing bad is going to happen. You and Brendon will get here tomorrow, and I'll take you out to dinner before Ryan and Nick get back from their trip. Sound good?" Spencer knew that Jon was tired of him calling every time he felt a little sick, but he never refused to answer.
"Yeah." Spencer whispered the word, sad the conversation was ending.
"All right. Goodnight Spence, I love you." Spencer smiled.
"I love you too, Jon." The few people around him gave odd looks of disgust, but Spencer ignored it. He loved Jon, and really didn't give a fuck as to what other people thought of him because of it.
"Call me when you land." Jon hung up and Spencer gave a soft and content sigh. He was finally starting to calm down. He made his way back to his seat, collapsing in it. He leaned back and closed his eyes, replaying the conversation he just had with Jon over and over again in his head.
"You were talking to him again, weren't you?" Brendon muttered the words with disgust as soon as Spencer was actually calm. He was still facing his notebook, his pencil holding completely still. Spencer shifted in his seat.
"Why do you have to be such a dick about it? Why can't you just let me talk to him without giving me crap?" The words were angry, though whispered so those around them wouldn't hear. Brendon slammed his pencil down, staring up at Spencer.
"Because they left us Spencer, and you need to understand that."
"They left YOU Brendon, and that's only because you were an ass. You and I both know that." They stared each other down, Brendon's eyes watering.
"I hadn't meant to. And he left me Spencer, isn't that enough?"
"No. You're always moping about him, it's driving me mad! And you've been slowly killing yourself ever since." Brendon's face once again went hard.
"You should have just left with them. Then I could rot in peace."
Spencer sighed. "Brendon, you know I didn't mean it like that." He tried to reason with the broken boy, but he was too late, Brendon already making up his mind to not listen. It was quite for an hour, the plane moving over the Atlantic. Brendon was asleep, and Spencer was growing nervous once more. There was slight turbulence, one jolt hit hard enough to wake Patrick. His tired face looked over at Spencer and Brendon, his lifeless eyes meeting Spencer's. They stared at each other for a few seconds, the plane shaking while they read each others expressions.
Their gaze didn't break until the pilot went over the PA system. "Please make sure your seat belts are fastened folks. We're running into a little bit of turbulence. It's going to get rather bumpy." The plane jerked once more, Spencer gripping onto his arm rest. There was a flash of lightning, the sound of screaming mixed with a clap of thunder, and the smell of smoke rising. The sense of panic Spencer hadn't felt in years was back, and this time it came with vengeance.
Brendon woke to the sound of a bird squawking obnoxiously. He opened his eyes, the sight being a red one. The plane had split into three parts; the tail lost at sea as the middle and front split in half. There was sand in the open end, water filling it enough to go up to Brendon's knees. He smelled gasoline and sea water.
There was a sharp pain in his side, but Brendon ignored it as he looked over at his two friends. Patrick had a large gash on his forehead where the window ha broken and sliced into his skin. Spencer's left arm was bent at an impossible angle, though it looked almost as if he had tried to protect the other two before passing out. The lights in the plane flickered, and he closed his eyes, trying to process what had happened. And then it dawned on him, and he knew he had to get out.
He started with Spencer, picking him up and dragging him out of the wreckage and onto the sandy beach they had crashed into. After that he got Patrick, the pain in his side burning as he dragged the other man onto the beach, letting him fall next to Spencer. Ian and Dallon. He looked around the plane, noticing that most of the seats were empty, the few that weren't being dead bodies. He wandered around, checking for pulses from anyone that was in the plane. There only seemed to be two survivors left, and Brendon had to choke back tears as he forced himself to drag Ryan and Nick's bodies out of the plane.
Once he had decided they were all safe, he broke down, crying into his knees as he stared at what had happened.
The morning came, the sun seeping through the blinds of Jon's room, landing directly on his eyes. He waited the whole day for Spencer's call. It never came.
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