Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Build God, Then We'll Talk.

Build God, Then We'll Talk.

by fearsgottahold 4 reviews

Ryan has always been isolated. But at the same time, he has never been alone. RYDON.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Warnings: [!] [V] [X] - Published: 2012-02-06 - Updated: 2012-02-06 - 1372 words

4Original
This idea came to me during a controlled assessment, so I wrote it out. Then, I went home, and typed this up properly. As far as I know, it has no real plot yet, but we'll see what my mind can come up with, eh?;) I have had a thing for Panic! fics recently, so here it is. Tell me what you guys think!

-fearsgottahold



The thing about Ryan Ross was that he wasn’t normal. He was known in the town in which he lived for being the freak of the school. From a young age he would go to the park, on his own, and play all day, quite happily. Parents would mutter as they watched their own children play, mutter about him not being right in the head. Ryan would speak to no-one, and then reply as if someone had said something back to him. But Ryan wasn’t alone, not really.

You see, Ryan had imaginary friends. He wasn’t entirely sure when they came about. In fact, in Ryan’s point of view, they had always been there. The helped him through everything. Ryan didn’t have any ‘real’ friends. From a young age he had been known as the weirdo, and had been left alone as a result. Ryan lied about this fact to his parents.

“So Ryan, when are we going to meet this Tom you are always telling us about?” his mother would ask at the table over dinner.

“I don’t know mum, it depends on what his mum says. She’s real strict.” Ryan had made Tom up so he wouldn’t have to tell his parents about his ‘real’ friends.

Ryan’s parents worried about their son. They had heard the late night conversations seemingly to himself; the way that his clothes always seemed dirty even though he hadn't worn them at all that week. Ryan’s parents didn’t know about his friends. Ryan never told them about how he spent all of his time in the company of people who didn’t exist. He didn’t worry about it, he though it was natural, so why should they? It was only by the time Ryan was eight years old that he really questioned what was up. No-one could see his friends but him. Ryan kind of liked it that way though, it was his little secret.

Ryan had three imaginary friends. Three boys, all roughly the same age as him. Each had their own unique personality. Jon, the calm, sympathetic one, the one Ryan went to if he was feeling angry and needed desperately to calm down. Jon was laidback, a trait that intensified as he grew up with Ryan. Spencer was Ryan’s best friend. Ryan told Spencer everything, because Spencer was the most level headed person ever. Spencer listened, and never judged. He was the perfect friend because he loved to listen to Ryan rant, and then he would calmly explain what Ryan should do. Sure, Ryan liked Jon, but Spencer was a whole different story.

Then there was Brendon.

Brendon was the kind of creature Ryan had always wanted to be. He was loud, exuberant, and joyful. He was so energetic, and spent all of his time jumping around and smiling. Ryan adored Brendon, his eyes shining every time they shared a funny story, a laugh. Wherever Brendon was, there was going to be something happening. Jon and Spencer loved Brendon too, but they didn’t show the same amount of respect and admiration that Ryan did. But they never said anything about it, because the four f them were friends, best friends. It was perfect for all of them, even if three of them weren’t technically real.

The thing was about Ryan’s imaginary friends, was that they weren’t really imaginary. They affected his life like normal people. He could touch them, and they could hold inanimate objects. Really pick them up; Ryan had taken part in many play-station games with them. They wore his fucking clothes sometimes. When they touched other people, that person could feel them. They jut couldn’t see or hear them. It was like the whole world except for Ryan was enveloped in a bubble that dulled the two senses. It didn’t really make sense to Ryan, but he didn’t question it.

He was just happy they were around for him.

Ryan was 9 and a half when he really sat down and thought about his life.

He hadn't really wondered about what would happen when he would grow up. He hadn't thought about the fact that they didn’t exist, even though they were there at the same time. Ryan didn’t know what to do. They were his best friends, his only friends, and they weren’t seen by anyone else. Ryan talked about his fears one night to Spencer, because Spencer always knew what to do.

“Why can no-one see you, Spence? Why am I the only one who you talk to, who you hang around? Why me? Spencer, what should I do about this? I don’t fucking know.”

Spencer sighed, and ran his hand affectionately through Ryan’s hair. He was silent for a long moment, and Ryan was worried that Spencer wasn’t going to speak at all. Then he looked at Ryan, square in the eyes and said something.

“The reason why we are here and no-one can see us is because we aren’t really here. We are real, and we do exist. But you have to find us in real life. We really are just figments of your imagination at the moment, Ry, but one day we will be so much more.”

The next morning, Jon, Spencer and Brendon were gone. Not just missing, they had completely disappeared. There was nothing to tell Ryan where they had gone, what he had said to make them go, or why they had left him all on his own.

Betrayal hit Ryan like a fucking train. He was angry at them for leaving; angry for not realising they were going. But most of all he was upset. He had no friends, no-one to turn to. He was properly alone for the first time in his life, and he hated it.

But instead of going out and making new friends, he curled inside himself. He continued living the life he had before, but instead of joking with Brendon, he sat in the park, empty swing rocking beside him. Instead of talking to Spencer about his problems he kept them inside and never spoke of them. He became so introverted that his parents wondered what had happened to him to make him so unhappy. But they didn’t press it. They thought he would talk to him when he was ready.

He never did.

By the time George Ryan Ross was seventeen, he could hardly remember why he was so angry at life and everything inside it. He only knew that he hated everything about life, and himself. He had the scars on his arms to prove it.

He spent his time at home; he never left the house except for school. He took up guitar because it was something that he could do without leaving the house. His mother refused to buy the guitar he wanted, and in an attempt to get him out of the house she got him a job at the local coffee shop. He had started there aged fifteen, and had never really left. Four days a week, he would walk down to the shop, and then he would work the coffee machine for a couple of hours before removing his apron and going home.

Ryan was working there one Saturday evening when the door opened to admit a boy, around the same age as Ryan.

Ryan was certain that he had met him before, but didn’t ask until the boy gasped and said “Ryan?”



Bit short, I know, but I'm not really sure what's happening yet. I just wanted to know what you guys thought to be honest:) So... Rate and review, please?:) And tell me all your plot ideas that you have for this!:D
Sign up to rate and review this story