Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > A Catastrophe, Destined To Be
See Confessions
8 reviewsYou're suspicious, a nasty little voice in the back of her mind sneers, and you don't trust Ryan.
1Ambiance
Note: Taking a slightly different route in this chapter- Hope you like!
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Panic! At The Disco blog
though I'm really tempted...
(I'm more than positive you've all caught a truly wonderful glimpse of boxers, lace, and compromising positions, so I'll say no more on that, though I'm also more than positive I'll be hearing from Pete about that soon.)
She took me to my first show the other day (the demon barber show, of course). After a month of trying to figure out what exactly made her tick, the past few days revealed the answer- there is a look on her face when the stage lights go up or when the spotlight catches her onstage, this unusual expression that begins to light up her eyes and spreads to the other parts of her face.
Tomorrow morning we leave the sleepless city and head to Los Angeles for another photo shoot and rehearsal. Spencer and Jon are watching shady midnight singles commercials, Brendon is either asleep or highly fascinated by the fabric of the sofa, and I am talking to you and thinking of her, as always.
Stay classy, kids,
RR
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Three months pass, the hotel scandal is eventually forgotten, applications are sent, auditions come and go, as do rehearsals and concert events, new music arrangements are made, text messages and letters and e-mails and phone calls are exchanged, more interviews, more promotional appearances, more vocalizing, more line memorization. Slowly, but surely, Saffron falls back into her old habits- sitting in a corner and pouting, hardly leaving the apartment, sending a glower at whomever dares to disturb her thoughts.
Sometimes she has regrets, second thoughts; was pursuing a relationship with him the smartest thing to do? She wants to see that twinkle in his eye again, personally hear his voice. Their conversations are limited and few now, and he seems more distant- each day, his voice sounds farther and farther away. The amount of space between them causes her stomach to curl up in intricate knots. She hates (and secretly appreciates) the texts, the e-mails, the blog entries-but, no, she wants human contact.
Maybe, Saffron thinks as she adjusts her blonde Rapunzel wig, maybe it's best to break it off with him. The space between them cushions the blow, she justifies her thoughts, it's better to end it now before her heart aches even more. You're suspicious, a nasty little voice in the back of her mind sneers, and you don't trust Ryan.
NO, she stares defiantly at her unusually pale reflection (she had used the lightest foundation for her skin tone to try to make the blonde wig work), I trust him, I trust him, but-
But, what?
She can't deal with this anymore.
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There is a cloud of guilt hanging over Ryan's head as he tries to analyze Saffron's last email.
Though she is naturally uncomplicated and blunt, she is still female, and females are the most convoluted creatures on the planet. He should have listened harder when she started going off about which colleges to apply to, or how her auditions went, or other typical Saffron topics, topics she cared and worried about.
'How do Spencer and Jon do it?,' he wonders curiously, staring at the phone in his hands as he and his tired band mates settle in for a long car trip, napping. Sure, Ryan had grown close to a few former girlfriends, but never to the point of almost-infatuation. He cares for her too much to let her slip through his fingers, to let her go, just like every other decent girlfriend that passed him by. But, no, she's not just any 'decent girlfriend'. Three minutes to show time- He holds the phone by his ear.
Ryan knows exactly what to tell her.
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"Hey, Saffron," he greets her over the snores of his friends- oh no, does he sound nervous?
"Ryan!" Saffron's voice is light an airy for she is already getting into character before she even makes an appearance onstage. However, behind that fluttery, naïve persona, she can't help but feel uneasy either. He's going to break it off, he's going to break it off, he's-
"Saffron! You need to get in the tower now!"
"Um, break a leg. I'm really sorry I can't see you, but..." His words fade away in Saffron's mind as she ignores the silly grin crossing her features, not bothering to look up at her reflection. He remembered!
"SAFFRON, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE, YOUR SCENE IS COMING UP!"
"It's fine," she says every so often during his rant, nodding and also ignoring the angry yells from the stage manager, "I understand, I swear, I-"
Ryan doesn't realize how much he is actually talking nor does he know if anything leaving his mouth makes sense at all. He pauses, taking a deep breath-, he has to tell her this before she hangs up the phone. Once, he said he wanted to be a lion and not a cat; he needs to take action.
"And, I love you."
Saffron freezes in her spot, very nearly dropping the phone as she gazes off into space. There is a peculiar tug at her heart strings, and suddenly her stomach is not contorted into elaborate knots. A smile spreads across her face. He loves her. He loves her, and damn it, she-No, she's thinking too much now and simply blurts out: "Are you serious?"
"VERDE, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TOWER IN THE NEXT MINUTE-"
Well, that certainly isn't the reaction Ryan expected, but then again, this is Saffron he is speaking to. "Yeah," he says with a wide smile, feeling as if a large load has been taken off his back. "I wouldn't joke about these things. I love you." It feels nice to say.
A long pause follows. "I love you too, I love you, love, love, love you, but I have to get in a fucking tower, and sing insanely high notes, but I love you." -Click.
He loves her. And, here she had been worrying that he was growing bored with a boring city girl with nothing better to talk about than original cast recordings. He loves her and, hell, she loves him more than she can express.
Of course, all is still not right with the world, because Brendon is not asleep.
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Note: WHEEEEEEEEEE. happy dance
Brendon!muse: I refuse to happy dance.
Me: Aw, now, Brenny, you get Musetta in my other fic. subtle pimping wut?
Brendon!muse: grin Yeah... that's true. But, aw, come on, why don't I always get the girl?
Me: sigh Well, we need to do something to soften that ego of yours.
Brendon!muse: bigger grin But you still looove, me, right?
Me: Duh.
_______________________________________________________
Panic! At The Disco blog
though I'm really tempted...
(I'm more than positive you've all caught a truly wonderful glimpse of boxers, lace, and compromising positions, so I'll say no more on that, though I'm also more than positive I'll be hearing from Pete about that soon.)
She took me to my first show the other day (the demon barber show, of course). After a month of trying to figure out what exactly made her tick, the past few days revealed the answer- there is a look on her face when the stage lights go up or when the spotlight catches her onstage, this unusual expression that begins to light up her eyes and spreads to the other parts of her face.
Tomorrow morning we leave the sleepless city and head to Los Angeles for another photo shoot and rehearsal. Spencer and Jon are watching shady midnight singles commercials, Brendon is either asleep or highly fascinated by the fabric of the sofa, and I am talking to you and thinking of her, as always.
Stay classy, kids,
RR
_______________________________________________________
Three months pass, the hotel scandal is eventually forgotten, applications are sent, auditions come and go, as do rehearsals and concert events, new music arrangements are made, text messages and letters and e-mails and phone calls are exchanged, more interviews, more promotional appearances, more vocalizing, more line memorization. Slowly, but surely, Saffron falls back into her old habits- sitting in a corner and pouting, hardly leaving the apartment, sending a glower at whomever dares to disturb her thoughts.
Sometimes she has regrets, second thoughts; was pursuing a relationship with him the smartest thing to do? She wants to see that twinkle in his eye again, personally hear his voice. Their conversations are limited and few now, and he seems more distant- each day, his voice sounds farther and farther away. The amount of space between them causes her stomach to curl up in intricate knots. She hates (and secretly appreciates) the texts, the e-mails, the blog entries-but, no, she wants human contact.
Maybe, Saffron thinks as she adjusts her blonde Rapunzel wig, maybe it's best to break it off with him. The space between them cushions the blow, she justifies her thoughts, it's better to end it now before her heart aches even more. You're suspicious, a nasty little voice in the back of her mind sneers, and you don't trust Ryan.
NO, she stares defiantly at her unusually pale reflection (she had used the lightest foundation for her skin tone to try to make the blonde wig work), I trust him, I trust him, but-
But, what?
She can't deal with this anymore.
_______________________________________________________
There is a cloud of guilt hanging over Ryan's head as he tries to analyze Saffron's last email.
Though she is naturally uncomplicated and blunt, she is still female, and females are the most convoluted creatures on the planet. He should have listened harder when she started going off about which colleges to apply to, or how her auditions went, or other typical Saffron topics, topics she cared and worried about.
'How do Spencer and Jon do it?,' he wonders curiously, staring at the phone in his hands as he and his tired band mates settle in for a long car trip, napping. Sure, Ryan had grown close to a few former girlfriends, but never to the point of almost-infatuation. He cares for her too much to let her slip through his fingers, to let her go, just like every other decent girlfriend that passed him by. But, no, she's not just any 'decent girlfriend'. Three minutes to show time- He holds the phone by his ear.
Ryan knows exactly what to tell her.
_______________________________________________________
"Hey, Saffron," he greets her over the snores of his friends- oh no, does he sound nervous?
"Ryan!" Saffron's voice is light an airy for she is already getting into character before she even makes an appearance onstage. However, behind that fluttery, naïve persona, she can't help but feel uneasy either. He's going to break it off, he's going to break it off, he's-
"Saffron! You need to get in the tower now!"
"Um, break a leg. I'm really sorry I can't see you, but..." His words fade away in Saffron's mind as she ignores the silly grin crossing her features, not bothering to look up at her reflection. He remembered!
"SAFFRON, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE, YOUR SCENE IS COMING UP!"
"It's fine," she says every so often during his rant, nodding and also ignoring the angry yells from the stage manager, "I understand, I swear, I-"
Ryan doesn't realize how much he is actually talking nor does he know if anything leaving his mouth makes sense at all. He pauses, taking a deep breath-, he has to tell her this before she hangs up the phone. Once, he said he wanted to be a lion and not a cat; he needs to take action.
"And, I love you."
Saffron freezes in her spot, very nearly dropping the phone as she gazes off into space. There is a peculiar tug at her heart strings, and suddenly her stomach is not contorted into elaborate knots. A smile spreads across her face. He loves her. He loves her, and damn it, she-No, she's thinking too much now and simply blurts out: "Are you serious?"
"VERDE, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TOWER IN THE NEXT MINUTE-"
Well, that certainly isn't the reaction Ryan expected, but then again, this is Saffron he is speaking to. "Yeah," he says with a wide smile, feeling as if a large load has been taken off his back. "I wouldn't joke about these things. I love you." It feels nice to say.
A long pause follows. "I love you too, I love you, love, love, love you, but I have to get in a fucking tower, and sing insanely high notes, but I love you." -Click.
He loves her. And, here she had been worrying that he was growing bored with a boring city girl with nothing better to talk about than original cast recordings. He loves her and, hell, she loves him more than she can express.
Of course, all is still not right with the world, because Brendon is not asleep.
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Note: WHEEEEEEEEEE. happy dance
Brendon!muse: I refuse to happy dance.
Me: Aw, now, Brenny, you get Musetta in my other fic. subtle pimping wut?
Brendon!muse: grin Yeah... that's true. But, aw, come on, why don't I always get the girl?
Me: sigh Well, we need to do something to soften that ego of yours.
Brendon!muse: bigger grin But you still looove, me, right?
Me: Duh.
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