Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Strike Up The Band, Rydon Is Beckoning
Ryan's POV-
I buttoned the last button of my rose vest, and combed my hair up nicely, before steeping out in the hall way to see who else was finished.
I saw Brendon sitting on a long wooden bench against the wall, he was dressed in ruffles, like always, and his head was in his hands. He looked extraordinarily weak.
I sat next to him, and he didn't even seem to notice.
"You okay dude?" I asked.
He shoot up, almost like I had woken him. He rubbed his eyes.
"What, oh yeah, im fine." he said, starting to stand up.
"Brendon, what's going on?" I asked.
"Nothing." he said, vainly.
"Okay, well for one, you've been the biggest asshole lately, two, I haven't seen you eat in what seems like weeks, and three, you're a twig." I said.
"Butt out, fuck face. It's none of your business." he said, turning his head.
"I think it is, im actually worried about you, and this is coming from a guy whose been hurt by you." I said.
"Don't go bringing up the past, Ross. It's dead and gone." he said.
"I was just saying, this isn't the past, this is now. Do you know, you could cause brain damage by having an eating disorder?" I told him.
"Who says I have an eating disorder? Making faux accusations are we, Ryan?" he asked.
"No, but it sure does look that way, and Jon told us about you're little brush with bulimia last week. Is there a chance you may have gone against your boyfriend's word?" I asked.
"Fuck off Ryan, just fuck off." He said, storming off, mumbling "Jeez, I hate him."
Whatever, it's his own fault. He's going to end up killing himself.
Soon, Spencer and Jon walked out, Spencer was twirling some drum sticks, and Jon had his bass in hand. I ran off to get my Gibson, and came back with it in hand. We went into Brendon's dressing room, and signaled him to come on out, and he did.
We walked down the hallway, to the stage, and walked on, the generally small crowd roaring.
We took our spots, and Brendon walked up to the mic.
"Hello, we're panic at the disco, thank you so very much for joining us this evening." he said, like the same old Brendon, hm.
We did "The Only Difference..." and "Camisado" then after those two, Brendon took the mic.
"This next song..." he said, starring into the light.
"Uh.." he added, before stumbling. The audience starting quietly chirping among themselves.
"This next song is called...Nails For Breakfast, Tacks For Snacks.." he said, almost slurred, wiping sweat, and loosing his balance a few times.
We played that with hardly any interuptions, then Brendon took the mic, and opened his mouth to speak, but instead, swayed back and forth a few times.
"Uh..." he said, obviously trying to remember what he was going to say.
"Uh, this song...uh...is..." he stuttered. He gulped, and looked around, obviously confused.
Then, he took a few steps back, dropping the microphone, and letting it make horrible feed back noises when it hit the ground. He brought his hands to his forehead, and stumbled a little across the stage, before leaning forward, and collapsing to his knees, and slowly, onto his side, onto the ground.
My head was telling me that I was speechless, but I wasn't, I wanted to scream for help, right then and there.
The audience starting screaming, confused, and unaware at what had just happened.
Jon dropped his bass, and accidentally snapping the neck off in the process, and rushed over to Brendon, getting on his knees. Our body guards rushed over as well, and Spencer put his drum sticks down, and rushed over, and I eventually, after seeing no signs of Brendon getting up, and worry getting to me, set my guitar down, and rushed over to the scene.
I looked into the cluster, and saw Jon, his head on Brendon's chest, listening for a heart beat.
"Someone call 911!" he screamed, which got the fans rowdier.
I decided to take my mic, and say something.
"Everyone, please stay calm, we don't know what's going on with Brendon right now, but the EMT's are on their way, and it would really help if you remained calm, for Brendon's sake." I said, before stepping back over to the cluster.
It looked like Brendon was out cold, Jon was crying, trying to gently wake Brendon, but nothing seemed to be working.
Soon, two men in white uniforms rushed over, and lifted Brendon onto a stretcher, and carried him away, Jon's fingers intertwined with his.
I and Spencer, along with our body guards, were left, speechless, clueless, and worried, on the stage.
Spencer went up to the mic, and said something about our deepest apologies for not being able to finish, and I picked up my guitar, and left the stage.
"I knew it. I knew something was terribly wrong with him." Spencer said.
"Poor thing, he needed help, like...theroputic help. He probably hasn't had any food in his body, besides the little things left behind from puking it out, in weeks." I said.
"Now, how do you know that's the reason he passed out?" he asked.
"Have you seen him lately? He's a blade of grass!" I said.
"Yeah, he is. I'm surprised Jon didn't notice anything." he said.
"Well, Jon has been saying Bren hasn't been at all sexually active. Maybe it's because he's afraid Jon will be able to count every bone in his body. I just hope he makes it out okay." I said.
"Hey Spence, I need to call Taylor, will you start packing up the instruments into the trailer?" I asked, taking out my cell.
"Yeah, sure baby." he said.
Whoa...that was weird. Spencer Smith, best friend...just a little weird.
Ah well, I'll get used to it.
I dialed her number in the phone.
"RYAN! I HAVEN'T TALKED TO YOU IN FOREVER!" she screamed.
"Hi Taylor, missed you too." I said.
"Whats up?" she asked.
"A lot, actually." I said.
"Spill." she said.
"Okay, Brendon and Jon are dating, me and Spencer and dating, Brendon is suffering from this secret eating disorder, and today, he collapsed on stage, and now, he's in some hospital in L.A. and we don't know what's up." I said.
"Oh my god!" she screamed.
"Calm down, I've heard plenty of those today." I said.
"Dude, when did this all happen, where was I?" she said, panicking.
"Off being bridezilla." I joked.
"Oh, poor guy. Me and Pete will fly out on the double." she said.
"You don't have to." I said.
"Yeah, we do." she said.
"Okay then. Me and Spence will get a hotel, and inform you guys on where he is staying, and where we are." I said.
"Okay, I'll have Pete get us a flight." she said.
"Okay, talk to you soon." I said.
"Bye Ryan." she said, hanging up.
okay, just a short thing, next chapter will be long, and full of surprises, seriously, no one can predict this crazy shit. And, I'll give you this insider. No, Brendon will never die again.
I buttoned the last button of my rose vest, and combed my hair up nicely, before steeping out in the hall way to see who else was finished.
I saw Brendon sitting on a long wooden bench against the wall, he was dressed in ruffles, like always, and his head was in his hands. He looked extraordinarily weak.
I sat next to him, and he didn't even seem to notice.
"You okay dude?" I asked.
He shoot up, almost like I had woken him. He rubbed his eyes.
"What, oh yeah, im fine." he said, starting to stand up.
"Brendon, what's going on?" I asked.
"Nothing." he said, vainly.
"Okay, well for one, you've been the biggest asshole lately, two, I haven't seen you eat in what seems like weeks, and three, you're a twig." I said.
"Butt out, fuck face. It's none of your business." he said, turning his head.
"I think it is, im actually worried about you, and this is coming from a guy whose been hurt by you." I said.
"Don't go bringing up the past, Ross. It's dead and gone." he said.
"I was just saying, this isn't the past, this is now. Do you know, you could cause brain damage by having an eating disorder?" I told him.
"Who says I have an eating disorder? Making faux accusations are we, Ryan?" he asked.
"No, but it sure does look that way, and Jon told us about you're little brush with bulimia last week. Is there a chance you may have gone against your boyfriend's word?" I asked.
"Fuck off Ryan, just fuck off." He said, storming off, mumbling "Jeez, I hate him."
Whatever, it's his own fault. He's going to end up killing himself.
Soon, Spencer and Jon walked out, Spencer was twirling some drum sticks, and Jon had his bass in hand. I ran off to get my Gibson, and came back with it in hand. We went into Brendon's dressing room, and signaled him to come on out, and he did.
We walked down the hallway, to the stage, and walked on, the generally small crowd roaring.
We took our spots, and Brendon walked up to the mic.
"Hello, we're panic at the disco, thank you so very much for joining us this evening." he said, like the same old Brendon, hm.
We did "The Only Difference..." and "Camisado" then after those two, Brendon took the mic.
"This next song..." he said, starring into the light.
"Uh.." he added, before stumbling. The audience starting quietly chirping among themselves.
"This next song is called...Nails For Breakfast, Tacks For Snacks.." he said, almost slurred, wiping sweat, and loosing his balance a few times.
We played that with hardly any interuptions, then Brendon took the mic, and opened his mouth to speak, but instead, swayed back and forth a few times.
"Uh..." he said, obviously trying to remember what he was going to say.
"Uh, this song...uh...is..." he stuttered. He gulped, and looked around, obviously confused.
Then, he took a few steps back, dropping the microphone, and letting it make horrible feed back noises when it hit the ground. He brought his hands to his forehead, and stumbled a little across the stage, before leaning forward, and collapsing to his knees, and slowly, onto his side, onto the ground.
My head was telling me that I was speechless, but I wasn't, I wanted to scream for help, right then and there.
The audience starting screaming, confused, and unaware at what had just happened.
Jon dropped his bass, and accidentally snapping the neck off in the process, and rushed over to Brendon, getting on his knees. Our body guards rushed over as well, and Spencer put his drum sticks down, and rushed over, and I eventually, after seeing no signs of Brendon getting up, and worry getting to me, set my guitar down, and rushed over to the scene.
I looked into the cluster, and saw Jon, his head on Brendon's chest, listening for a heart beat.
"Someone call 911!" he screamed, which got the fans rowdier.
I decided to take my mic, and say something.
"Everyone, please stay calm, we don't know what's going on with Brendon right now, but the EMT's are on their way, and it would really help if you remained calm, for Brendon's sake." I said, before stepping back over to the cluster.
It looked like Brendon was out cold, Jon was crying, trying to gently wake Brendon, but nothing seemed to be working.
Soon, two men in white uniforms rushed over, and lifted Brendon onto a stretcher, and carried him away, Jon's fingers intertwined with his.
I and Spencer, along with our body guards, were left, speechless, clueless, and worried, on the stage.
Spencer went up to the mic, and said something about our deepest apologies for not being able to finish, and I picked up my guitar, and left the stage.
"I knew it. I knew something was terribly wrong with him." Spencer said.
"Poor thing, he needed help, like...theroputic help. He probably hasn't had any food in his body, besides the little things left behind from puking it out, in weeks." I said.
"Now, how do you know that's the reason he passed out?" he asked.
"Have you seen him lately? He's a blade of grass!" I said.
"Yeah, he is. I'm surprised Jon didn't notice anything." he said.
"Well, Jon has been saying Bren hasn't been at all sexually active. Maybe it's because he's afraid Jon will be able to count every bone in his body. I just hope he makes it out okay." I said.
"Hey Spence, I need to call Taylor, will you start packing up the instruments into the trailer?" I asked, taking out my cell.
"Yeah, sure baby." he said.
Whoa...that was weird. Spencer Smith, best friend...just a little weird.
Ah well, I'll get used to it.
I dialed her number in the phone.
"RYAN! I HAVEN'T TALKED TO YOU IN FOREVER!" she screamed.
"Hi Taylor, missed you too." I said.
"Whats up?" she asked.
"A lot, actually." I said.
"Spill." she said.
"Okay, Brendon and Jon are dating, me and Spencer and dating, Brendon is suffering from this secret eating disorder, and today, he collapsed on stage, and now, he's in some hospital in L.A. and we don't know what's up." I said.
"Oh my god!" she screamed.
"Calm down, I've heard plenty of those today." I said.
"Dude, when did this all happen, where was I?" she said, panicking.
"Off being bridezilla." I joked.
"Oh, poor guy. Me and Pete will fly out on the double." she said.
"You don't have to." I said.
"Yeah, we do." she said.
"Okay then. Me and Spence will get a hotel, and inform you guys on where he is staying, and where we are." I said.
"Okay, I'll have Pete get us a flight." she said.
"Okay, talk to you soon." I said.
"Bye Ryan." she said, hanging up.
okay, just a short thing, next chapter will be long, and full of surprises, seriously, no one can predict this crazy shit. And, I'll give you this insider. No, Brendon will never die again.
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