Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > What Diaries Reveal
Chapter 3
2/24
Dear Daisy,
I was so determined to help Spencer with Jon that I completely forgot Brendon existed for the most part. Two days passed and I barely even saw him. I was trying to get Jon and Spencer together. They’d be so happy together. And I think I finally did it. But I don’t actually know. I wish I did. I want to know so bad. But I’m gonna leave it alone. They’ll be happy, I’m sure of it.
Anyway, I had another daymare. Only, this time, it wasn’t because of Brendon. They’re really starting to scare me. I want them to go away. The nightmares and the daymares are really bad. I don’t know if I’m happy anymore. I’m trying to be! But it’s not working anymore. I’m just scared. They don’t stop. They’re starting to be more frequent and now I’m tired all the time. I’m starting to think they might be real. Help…
~Ryan~
Dear Journal,
I think the chipper freak stopped bothering me altogether. He seemed to be ignoring me, except at dinner, when I give him my meat. But aside from that, I think he’s understood my point, which is good. I was really fucking tired of telling him to back the fuck off.
But at the same time, I kind of miss it. Is that weird? I miss having him around all the time. I missed having him annoy the shit out of me. I miss having him be all chipper and excited all the time. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I miss him like that. I fucking hate the kid! FUCK.
~Brendon~
Dear Diary,
Ryan… Ryan said he’d try. And he did. And now I don’t know. I don’t think Jon is avoiding me anymore. But maybe he is. I don’t know. I can’t tell. He looks at me now. That’s good, right? And he doesn’t leave the room when I walk in. I don’t know. I’m scared.
~Spencer~
Yo. Fucking Ryan should stay out of my business. I fuck shit up, I can fix it.
~Jon~
It was raining hard on the roof of the house when Ryan approached Jon. The sisters were shutting all the windows and locking all the doors that led outside the house. A storm was coming. The sisters were trying to keep them all safe inside. Nothing bad could happen to them if they were all stuck inside. No one could catch a cold or pneumonia.
Jon was quietly reading a book in the den beside the window, listening to the soft pit-pat of rain on the glass. It was relaxing. He had missed rain. Living in the desert, it wasn’t like they got a lot of it. Spring was approaching, though, and spring meant rain, which was nice. It was the one thing he actually thoroughly enjoyed. He was interrupted by Ryan sitting down next to him, “Hi.”
His head snapped up to look at the male who was now sitting there. The male who had interrupted his alone time. He frowned and put the bookmark in, closing the novel. He crossed his arms over it, “What?”
“You like Spencer, don’t you?” he paused. Jon remained quiet. He wasn’t going to answer that doomed question. Ryan continued, “Spencer likes you. And I know I shouldn’t be playing matchmaker here. But if you guys like each other, you have to stop avoiding him. He knows something. And now he thinks you hate him!”
“I DO HATE HIM!” he yelled and Ryan gasped, falling backwards, off the chair. He scrambled to a sitting position and pouted. Jon sighed and sat back, opening his book again. He looked at Ryan and then back at his book. Ryan wasn’t going to leave. He was scared to leave, afraid Jon would yell at him. Ryan bit his lip and looked down when he heard Jon yell. His head snapped up, “I DON’T LIKE HIM. NOW GET OUT OF HERE!” and he winced.
Ryan walked in through the doors of his large mansion after school. He had gotten a B+ on a test. He was hoping his father wasn’t home. If his dad was home, there was no escaping. His dad would pick on him, with his friends. The overwhelming sense of fear was stewing in the pit of his stomach. He was 13 years old and he just felt this scary feeling of impending doom, just like every single day he’d been alive.
“Dad?” he asked in fear as he walked in. His voice echoed through the walls. After a short silence, he realized that he was safe. He padded up the first flight of stairs, then the second, before he entered his room. He closed the door behind him with a sigh. He slid down it and took a deep breath. He was safe in his room. His dad couldn’t get to him. At least not right now. He then looked down at his arms crossed over his chest. The test was…
“GEORGE RYAN ROSS!” he heard the scream all the way down to the first floor by the door. He’d dropped the test. He’d dropped the test he’d gotten a B+ on. His dad was furious. When he didn’t respond, his father stormed up the stairs and wailed on the door, causing the small male to shake with the force. He slowly crawled away from the door, bracing himself against his bed, his eyes shut tight and his body curled up.
“WHY DID YOU GET A B+?! EXPLAIN THIS TO ME. RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.”
He winced. How was he supposed to explain this? He did study. He thought he did well. He tried to get an A. But it wasn’t good enough. Nothing he ever did was good enough. So not speaking wasn’t really a way out, but it was as close as he was going to get. His father would hurt him regardless. Sitting here in complete silence was as close to salvation as he was going to get.
At least until he watched his father charge at him, “YOU BETTER GIVE ME SOME KIND OF AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS!” he grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up harshly, “EXPLAIN!” and Ryan tried so hard to contain the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He kept his mouth shut. Either way, he’d get hurt. And he knew that, if he tried to explain anything, he’d just get more hurt than if he didn’t. He severely shook the smaller boy, “IF YOU DON’T SAY ANYTHING IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS, I WILL PUT YOU IN THE HOSPITAL!”
He always gave idle threats. There was no truth to his threats. They were often hollow and meant nothing. Ryan had been in the hospital many times. So even if the threat was serious from him, that didn’t mean that it would end in his death. Even though sometimes he wished that it would. Maybe he should say something along the lines of, “Do it,” and it was at the moment when his father threw him across the room that he regretted his words.
He came charging at him since his eyes were still open. He looked up at his father and he no longer felt fear or sad or anger. He started to laugh. He was laughing. This made his dad’s anger worse. He grabbed Ryan by the throat and growled, “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?!” and that just made him laugh more. This didn’t make his father any less angry. He bashed Ryan’s head against the wall and kept doing that until he started to knee him and kick him. The last thing Ryan remembered was his father growling, “This is the last time you’ll ever talk back to me,” before he bashed his head against the wall one more time.
When Ryan snapped back into reality, he was laying on the couch in the therapy office with Sister Sunshine sitting across from him. She stood as his eyes opened, “Ryan, are you alright?” she moved over and sat down next to him.
He put his hand to his forehead and sat up, “It’s…” his voice cracked, “It’s all… It’s all… It’s all real…” tears fell from his eyes, “I… I like being happy. I want to be… I want to be chipper and… and… not scarred. Why… Why is it happening?” tears kept falling down his cheeks and onto his pants below him. He slowly looked up at Sister Sunshine with a hiccup.
“I told you that you’d start to remember things. I just hoped it wouldn’t be until you were older so you could handle it all better. But the memories will come back. And they seem to be coming at full force. You had one yesterday too. We’re here to help you, Ryan,” she took hold of his hand with a smile, “All of us. We’ll tell the boys to not yell at you or around you so that these memories aren’t forced on you.”
“How… How did… How did I end up here?”
“Well, Jon said that he yelled at you and you had a seizure. He got scared and he didn’t know what to do. Then he left and Sister Katherine and I carried you in here, with Brendon’s help, of course, since he offered. You were out for a while.”
“Can I… Can I just… go to my room?” he whispered. He sounded broken, lost, and confused. But the sister nodded. He stood and walked out on wobbly legs. He closed the door behind him and slowly made his way up the stairs. He almost ran into Jon, but fell back and grabbed onto the railing that overlooked the first floor. He looked up at him, “Look, Jon, I’m sorry for prying. It really wasn’t any of my business. I’ll leave you guys alone.”
Jon looked at Ryan a bit skeptically, as if there was something wrong with him. He took a step toward him, “Are you okay? You’re not… all cheery and happy like you usually are. Did something happen when I yelled at you? I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just caught off guard because you were right.”
“If I was right, then do something about it,” he walked past him and made his way to his room. He took a deep breath as he couldn’t stop thinking about all the memories that had come back to him. He knew that the worst part was knowing that those might not even be the worst and that wasn’t all of them either. There were still chunks of his life that he didn’t know about. That scared him.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and pushed it open. What saw him probably should have surprised him, but it didn’t. He saw Brendon sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down. He slowly looked up at him, “Hi.”
Ryan sighed, “Get out,” he muttered, walking into his room and went over to his closet. He rummaged through things before he finally turned his head to look at him. He was still sitting there. He hadn’t left. Ryan took a deep breath, “I said get out. I don’t want to look at your face. I don’t want to think about you. Get out. I want to be alone.”
“Ryan,” Brendon stood and walked over to him. He turned his face away from him, “The sisters explained to me what was going on with you, why you were slowly becoming less and less cheery and I want to help. I’m an asshole. That much, I know. But you aren’t. You’re not an asshole. I used to be an asshole to you because you annoyed the shit out of me. I’m gonna be honest here. You really pissed me off. But really, I don’t like this version of you. At all. I get it. You’re getting your memories back. But you have to realize that you’re not living with that anymore. You’re living with us. And you’re alive. Isn’t that a good thing?”
“You know what?” Ryan turned toward Brendon with a humorless chuckle, “This is your fault. I would still be chipper and happy if it weren’t for you. You yelled at me. The first time you yelled at me, I had my first memory. The second came in a nightmare. Then they kept coming more frequently. So it’s your fault. I am fourteen years old, and already I feel like I grew up too fast. I can tell I didn’t have a childhood. But you did. You grew up like a normal person. I didn’t.”
“You’re blaming all of this… on me?” he took a step back, “I can’t… Wow. You should go back to being chipper and happy because this…” he scoffed, “This… is bullshit. But fine. If you want me to stay away so badly, then I will,” he walked out, slamming the door behind him. He pushed past Jon on his way to the stairs, but didn’t get away so easily. Jon grabbed him and spun him around, “WHAT?” Brendon yelled, “What the fuck do you want from me?”
Jon growled and shoved Brendon, “Just because you’re in a bad mood doesn’t give you the right to push people around, asshole!” he growled deep in his throat.
Brendon laughed, “Wow, what a hypocrite. Fuck you,” he stormed down the stairs and went into the kitchen.
Jon took a deep breath and turned back toward Spencer’s door where he’d been standing with a bouquet of red tulips. Most of them had been destroyed because of the fidgeting, but staring at the door in front of him, it didn’t matter. He’d never be able to open that door. He’d never be able to give them to Spencer. Not personally. He dropped them at the door and sighed before he turned and walked away. He’d never be able to have this relationship with Spencer. It wasn’t going to happen, no matter how much he wanted it to.
---
A/N: Sorry this took so long. I've been working at it for several days. Maybe even a week. And I stayed up late tonight because I was thinking to myself 'I was supposed to have this up a LONG time ago.' So here you go. I'm sorry it's so terribly late. But the depression came back and it's probably worse than it was before. But it's okay. I'm handling it better this time. And I'll keep updating. I love to write. And I love you guys. :) I hope you enjoyed. Please rate and review.
2/24
Dear Daisy,
I was so determined to help Spencer with Jon that I completely forgot Brendon existed for the most part. Two days passed and I barely even saw him. I was trying to get Jon and Spencer together. They’d be so happy together. And I think I finally did it. But I don’t actually know. I wish I did. I want to know so bad. But I’m gonna leave it alone. They’ll be happy, I’m sure of it.
Anyway, I had another daymare. Only, this time, it wasn’t because of Brendon. They’re really starting to scare me. I want them to go away. The nightmares and the daymares are really bad. I don’t know if I’m happy anymore. I’m trying to be! But it’s not working anymore. I’m just scared. They don’t stop. They’re starting to be more frequent and now I’m tired all the time. I’m starting to think they might be real. Help…
~Ryan~
Dear Journal,
I think the chipper freak stopped bothering me altogether. He seemed to be ignoring me, except at dinner, when I give him my meat. But aside from that, I think he’s understood my point, which is good. I was really fucking tired of telling him to back the fuck off.
But at the same time, I kind of miss it. Is that weird? I miss having him around all the time. I missed having him annoy the shit out of me. I miss having him be all chipper and excited all the time. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I miss him like that. I fucking hate the kid! FUCK.
~Brendon~
Dear Diary,
Ryan… Ryan said he’d try. And he did. And now I don’t know. I don’t think Jon is avoiding me anymore. But maybe he is. I don’t know. I can’t tell. He looks at me now. That’s good, right? And he doesn’t leave the room when I walk in. I don’t know. I’m scared.
~Spencer~
Yo. Fucking Ryan should stay out of my business. I fuck shit up, I can fix it.
~Jon~
It was raining hard on the roof of the house when Ryan approached Jon. The sisters were shutting all the windows and locking all the doors that led outside the house. A storm was coming. The sisters were trying to keep them all safe inside. Nothing bad could happen to them if they were all stuck inside. No one could catch a cold or pneumonia.
Jon was quietly reading a book in the den beside the window, listening to the soft pit-pat of rain on the glass. It was relaxing. He had missed rain. Living in the desert, it wasn’t like they got a lot of it. Spring was approaching, though, and spring meant rain, which was nice. It was the one thing he actually thoroughly enjoyed. He was interrupted by Ryan sitting down next to him, “Hi.”
His head snapped up to look at the male who was now sitting there. The male who had interrupted his alone time. He frowned and put the bookmark in, closing the novel. He crossed his arms over it, “What?”
“You like Spencer, don’t you?” he paused. Jon remained quiet. He wasn’t going to answer that doomed question. Ryan continued, “Spencer likes you. And I know I shouldn’t be playing matchmaker here. But if you guys like each other, you have to stop avoiding him. He knows something. And now he thinks you hate him!”
“I DO HATE HIM!” he yelled and Ryan gasped, falling backwards, off the chair. He scrambled to a sitting position and pouted. Jon sighed and sat back, opening his book again. He looked at Ryan and then back at his book. Ryan wasn’t going to leave. He was scared to leave, afraid Jon would yell at him. Ryan bit his lip and looked down when he heard Jon yell. His head snapped up, “I DON’T LIKE HIM. NOW GET OUT OF HERE!” and he winced.
Ryan walked in through the doors of his large mansion after school. He had gotten a B+ on a test. He was hoping his father wasn’t home. If his dad was home, there was no escaping. His dad would pick on him, with his friends. The overwhelming sense of fear was stewing in the pit of his stomach. He was 13 years old and he just felt this scary feeling of impending doom, just like every single day he’d been alive.
“Dad?” he asked in fear as he walked in. His voice echoed through the walls. After a short silence, he realized that he was safe. He padded up the first flight of stairs, then the second, before he entered his room. He closed the door behind him with a sigh. He slid down it and took a deep breath. He was safe in his room. His dad couldn’t get to him. At least not right now. He then looked down at his arms crossed over his chest. The test was…
“GEORGE RYAN ROSS!” he heard the scream all the way down to the first floor by the door. He’d dropped the test. He’d dropped the test he’d gotten a B+ on. His dad was furious. When he didn’t respond, his father stormed up the stairs and wailed on the door, causing the small male to shake with the force. He slowly crawled away from the door, bracing himself against his bed, his eyes shut tight and his body curled up.
“WHY DID YOU GET A B+?! EXPLAIN THIS TO ME. RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.”
He winced. How was he supposed to explain this? He did study. He thought he did well. He tried to get an A. But it wasn’t good enough. Nothing he ever did was good enough. So not speaking wasn’t really a way out, but it was as close as he was going to get. His father would hurt him regardless. Sitting here in complete silence was as close to salvation as he was going to get.
At least until he watched his father charge at him, “YOU BETTER GIVE ME SOME KIND OF AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS!” he grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up harshly, “EXPLAIN!” and Ryan tried so hard to contain the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He kept his mouth shut. Either way, he’d get hurt. And he knew that, if he tried to explain anything, he’d just get more hurt than if he didn’t. He severely shook the smaller boy, “IF YOU DON’T SAY ANYTHING IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS, I WILL PUT YOU IN THE HOSPITAL!”
He always gave idle threats. There was no truth to his threats. They were often hollow and meant nothing. Ryan had been in the hospital many times. So even if the threat was serious from him, that didn’t mean that it would end in his death. Even though sometimes he wished that it would. Maybe he should say something along the lines of, “Do it,” and it was at the moment when his father threw him across the room that he regretted his words.
He came charging at him since his eyes were still open. He looked up at his father and he no longer felt fear or sad or anger. He started to laugh. He was laughing. This made his dad’s anger worse. He grabbed Ryan by the throat and growled, “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?!” and that just made him laugh more. This didn’t make his father any less angry. He bashed Ryan’s head against the wall and kept doing that until he started to knee him and kick him. The last thing Ryan remembered was his father growling, “This is the last time you’ll ever talk back to me,” before he bashed his head against the wall one more time.
When Ryan snapped back into reality, he was laying on the couch in the therapy office with Sister Sunshine sitting across from him. She stood as his eyes opened, “Ryan, are you alright?” she moved over and sat down next to him.
He put his hand to his forehead and sat up, “It’s…” his voice cracked, “It’s all… It’s all… It’s all real…” tears fell from his eyes, “I… I like being happy. I want to be… I want to be chipper and… and… not scarred. Why… Why is it happening?” tears kept falling down his cheeks and onto his pants below him. He slowly looked up at Sister Sunshine with a hiccup.
“I told you that you’d start to remember things. I just hoped it wouldn’t be until you were older so you could handle it all better. But the memories will come back. And they seem to be coming at full force. You had one yesterday too. We’re here to help you, Ryan,” she took hold of his hand with a smile, “All of us. We’ll tell the boys to not yell at you or around you so that these memories aren’t forced on you.”
“How… How did… How did I end up here?”
“Well, Jon said that he yelled at you and you had a seizure. He got scared and he didn’t know what to do. Then he left and Sister Katherine and I carried you in here, with Brendon’s help, of course, since he offered. You were out for a while.”
“Can I… Can I just… go to my room?” he whispered. He sounded broken, lost, and confused. But the sister nodded. He stood and walked out on wobbly legs. He closed the door behind him and slowly made his way up the stairs. He almost ran into Jon, but fell back and grabbed onto the railing that overlooked the first floor. He looked up at him, “Look, Jon, I’m sorry for prying. It really wasn’t any of my business. I’ll leave you guys alone.”
Jon looked at Ryan a bit skeptically, as if there was something wrong with him. He took a step toward him, “Are you okay? You’re not… all cheery and happy like you usually are. Did something happen when I yelled at you? I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just caught off guard because you were right.”
“If I was right, then do something about it,” he walked past him and made his way to his room. He took a deep breath as he couldn’t stop thinking about all the memories that had come back to him. He knew that the worst part was knowing that those might not even be the worst and that wasn’t all of them either. There were still chunks of his life that he didn’t know about. That scared him.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and pushed it open. What saw him probably should have surprised him, but it didn’t. He saw Brendon sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down. He slowly looked up at him, “Hi.”
Ryan sighed, “Get out,” he muttered, walking into his room and went over to his closet. He rummaged through things before he finally turned his head to look at him. He was still sitting there. He hadn’t left. Ryan took a deep breath, “I said get out. I don’t want to look at your face. I don’t want to think about you. Get out. I want to be alone.”
“Ryan,” Brendon stood and walked over to him. He turned his face away from him, “The sisters explained to me what was going on with you, why you were slowly becoming less and less cheery and I want to help. I’m an asshole. That much, I know. But you aren’t. You’re not an asshole. I used to be an asshole to you because you annoyed the shit out of me. I’m gonna be honest here. You really pissed me off. But really, I don’t like this version of you. At all. I get it. You’re getting your memories back. But you have to realize that you’re not living with that anymore. You’re living with us. And you’re alive. Isn’t that a good thing?”
“You know what?” Ryan turned toward Brendon with a humorless chuckle, “This is your fault. I would still be chipper and happy if it weren’t for you. You yelled at me. The first time you yelled at me, I had my first memory. The second came in a nightmare. Then they kept coming more frequently. So it’s your fault. I am fourteen years old, and already I feel like I grew up too fast. I can tell I didn’t have a childhood. But you did. You grew up like a normal person. I didn’t.”
“You’re blaming all of this… on me?” he took a step back, “I can’t… Wow. You should go back to being chipper and happy because this…” he scoffed, “This… is bullshit. But fine. If you want me to stay away so badly, then I will,” he walked out, slamming the door behind him. He pushed past Jon on his way to the stairs, but didn’t get away so easily. Jon grabbed him and spun him around, “WHAT?” Brendon yelled, “What the fuck do you want from me?”
Jon growled and shoved Brendon, “Just because you’re in a bad mood doesn’t give you the right to push people around, asshole!” he growled deep in his throat.
Brendon laughed, “Wow, what a hypocrite. Fuck you,” he stormed down the stairs and went into the kitchen.
Jon took a deep breath and turned back toward Spencer’s door where he’d been standing with a bouquet of red tulips. Most of them had been destroyed because of the fidgeting, but staring at the door in front of him, it didn’t matter. He’d never be able to open that door. He’d never be able to give them to Spencer. Not personally. He dropped them at the door and sighed before he turned and walked away. He’d never be able to have this relationship with Spencer. It wasn’t going to happen, no matter how much he wanted it to.
---
A/N: Sorry this took so long. I've been working at it for several days. Maybe even a week. And I stayed up late tonight because I was thinking to myself 'I was supposed to have this up a LONG time ago.' So here you go. I'm sorry it's so terribly late. But the depression came back and it's probably worse than it was before. But it's okay. I'm handling it better this time. And I'll keep updating. I love to write. And I love you guys. :) I hope you enjoyed. Please rate and review.
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