Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Down the road, not across the street

Am I supposed to be happy? With all I ever wanted, it comes with a price.

by grandtheftautumn 11 reviews

Sorry again for the wait. Another long chapter with multiple POV's ENJOY MY PRETTIES! ENJOY! *cackles evilly* RR&R

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Angst, Crossover, Drama, Romance - Warnings: [?] [X] - Published: 2007-05-17 - Updated: 2007-05-17 - 2581 words

1Moving
Sorry I haven't been updating as frequently. Last couple weeks have been rough, but I found my muse to help vent & express... here it goes straight from the heart.

I really hate doing this but i really couldnt decide between titles, so this chapter is titled...




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Chapter 17: Am I supposed to be happy? With all I ever wanted, it comes with a price. (Take aim at my heart. Take back what you said)


Amara's POV


I headed for the bathroom, craving for that cold metal blade again as if it was nicotine. I couldn't help but think about how much I wanted that blade. How it tempted me so. My moral conscience fought against the evil thoughts inside.

I know I shouldn't, I've promised myself and those around me. My brain tells me no, but my heart literally feels as if it's pining for it. I want it so much. I feel it. I need it.

The second I closed my eyes, as its sharp edge connected with my skin, my entire body would numb, and I'd be relieved of any pain I was feeling. I remembered how so many times it felt like the only answer. So simple, that even the mere thought of it felt so relieving on my hurting soul, my aching heart and my pounding mind.

Then the afterthoughts kicked in of how depressing it is that I let myself get to that point of considering cutting. I stopped in front of the bathroom door. It took all my strength to make the right choice over the easy one, as I retracted my hand from the cold door knob and double backed to my room. I hastily closed the door behind me, feeling as though I would change my mind if I held it open any longer. I pressed my back against the cold hard wood and slid to the floor.

I was still in shock. I was restraining myself from screaming for joy, and at the same time trying not to cry. I felt so angry with myself. I was loathing the person I had become.

The continuous battle raged on inside, where I was yelling at myself to stop being over dramatic, while I kicking myself for being so stubborn and proud. I hated feeling vulnerable so I would hold back all the hurt I was feeling until it built up enough I had to let it out, along with the blood.

My thoughts swarmed in my head. Ryan finally feels the same. But you can't have him, Amara. However, what screamed at me the loudest was...

YOU'RE A HYPOCRITE!
YOU'RE A HYPOCRITE!


I always hated my boyfriends for cheating on me and I despised the other girl even more. And now I had become one of them.

How can something so wrong, feel so damn good at the same time?

Tears began to swell in my eyes. I could no longer hold them back. Then I felt a soft vibration as someone gently rapped on my bedroom door. I ignored whoever was standing behind the door as I tried my best to stifle the sound of my crying.

"Amara, you awake?" It was Patrick. "I know you're awake, I can hear you. Please let me come in. I have something for you."

I moved away from the door and opened it enough for Patrick to pass me whatever it was. However, he widened the gap as he poked his head inside.

"Pete thought you might want this back, you left it umm. Well... yeah, here's your journal."

I took it from him and held it close to my chest. He took this opportunity to let himself inside my room. Normally I like to be alone when I'm upset, but his presence was comforting. I sat down on the end of my bed. He followed suit, putting an arm around me as I flicked through the pages. His gentle touch soothed my crying down to occasional sobs. I didn't have to say anything, Patrick has this sixth sense for when something was wrong and he knew when and when not to ask questions. I felt drained, as the day's events caught up with me, and I rested my head on his shoulder. He gave me a warm embrace which slightly lifted my spirits. Patrick laid me back onto the bed and pulled the blanket over me. He laid down next to me on top of the blanket and watched over me til I fell asleep.



Amara woke up the next morning. As she looked out her bedroom window she saw Pete's car had returned to its spot at the front. They're back great. She could hear Pete's voice from downstairs but no shrill female voice accompanied it. On her way downstairs, Chastity was no where in sight. Probably making out with Ryan right now, or she's still in the hospital. Is it too harsh to hope she's dead?

"They kept her overnight for observation. Doctor said he'll call back later this afternoon and we'll see if we can pick her up." Amara heard Pete finish off. Darn, still alive.

I walked into the kitchen to find Pete fiddling over the stove. He was talking to Patrick who was sitting behind the kitchen top.

Okay, no more bitchy thoughts. No more bitchy thoughts.

Pete restrained himself from talking to Amara. It was too hard, and she hated his guts. But he couldn't ignore her. That was even harder. He couldn't be cold to someone he really loved.

"Breakfast? I'm making waffles," Pete offered. Oh... my favourite.

"No, thank you." I replied quickly as a poured myself a glass of OJ and headed back to my room.


Pete's POV


If she just let explain.

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and hoped it was Amara changing her mind and deciding to finally talk to me. I was however left disappointed as Jon bounded down the stairs followed by Ryan.

He looked like crap. Guess he didn't sleep much last night worrying about Chastity. I decided to relieve him from his stress.

"Hey Ryro, doctor said she's going to be fine. I was just telling Pat we can pick her up from the hospital later this afternoon."

Ryan looked up at me as if he had just realised he wasn't the only one in the room. "Huh? Oh cool, thanks Pete...For looking after her," he mumbled quietly. Jeez, he must be really worried, he's even more quiet than usual.

After breakfast, Patrick drove into town to get more food, because someone has raided the fridge during the night. Although they deny it, I'm pretty sure it was Brendon and Jon. Ryan accompanied him to check up on his girlfriend.

Spencer and Lacey said they were "going for a walk." Ha! Yeah right, like I haven't used that one before. Teens and their hormones. Well, couples and their hormones, but hey fair enough they're young and in love.

I wish I still had that with Amara.

Everyone else had congregated in the living room. Our guitarist was battling it out with their bass on Guitar Hero, while Andy and Brendon watched intensely from the couch. Amara, finally having left her room, was also watching Jon and Joe from the single armchair. She was sketching them in her journal. No one looked up at me, except for a Brendon, who gave me a brief glance and a small smile.

I went and sat down at the foot of her armchair, resting my back on it. "I promise I never looked at it while you were gone," I said to her hoping to break the ice.

"Mmm. Okay, thanks."

She seemed less cold towards me, which I took as a good sign. However, I couldn't help but notice the great sadness that had taken its place. I tried talking to her, making a joke every now and then. I just wanted to see her smile. I just wanted her not to hate me.

Baby steps, Wentz. Just prove you can be a good friend.

She would occasionally reply to me, even if half of it was insults. But her tone was much different, it worried me. Although her words were harsh, they weren't believable. They weren't angry, or even playful, just sad. She just seemed so out of it, as if her mind was in another world.


Brendon's POV


What does Pete think he's doing? He's just hurting her more.

I watched as he tried talking to her. I wasn't even paying attention to Guitar Hero. I wanted to interrupt them but I didn't want to make a scene. Then suddenly, Amara got up.

"I gonna get some fresh air." And with that she walked out the door.

What did he do now? That is it!

I got up and walked over to Pete. "We need to talk," I whispered sternly to him.

I pulled him aside into an empty room.

"What do you think you're doing, Wentz? STOP MESSING WITH HER, MAN."

"I didn't say anything, Bren. She just got up and left," he defended.

"Pete, I know you're our mate and you've done a lot for the band, but you've got to leave her alone."

"I didn't do anything. I would never intentionally hurt her. I love her, Brendon!"

God, is he serious? Now I'm really getting pissed.

"Pete don't/! I know what happened in Chicago. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO HER OKAY! She almost /died because of what you did!"

Breathe, Brendon, breathe.

"When she arrived on my door she didn't explain to anyone, but me, as to why she was in London at one in the morning. Amara tried to kill herself over it. She's had enough disappointment in her life, she doesn't need it again."

I couldn't hold it in anymore. He had to know. He had to. If he couldn't see it for himself, right in front of his own eyes then someone had to slap a huge sign in his face.

Genuine concern filled his face.

"Oh god," he whispered. "I just wanted to be her friend."


Amara's POV


It was hard being around people, I just had to get out of that house. It felt as if the walls were closing in on me. I needed to be alone.

I walked outside and circled the front garden several times before I sat down on the front steps. I rested my head in my lap and stared blankly at the black cover of my journal.

"If it was meant to be, it wouldn't be this hard," I thought out loud.

"No one writes songs about the ones that come easy," I heard Pete's voice.

It made me smile a little, but he couldn't see that. I didn't reply with anything mean or cold, but exhaled deeply and stayed lost in my thoughts. I had no strength left to stay mad at him anymore. I was too busy beating myself up, and feeling annoyed about Ryan and Chastity. I felt too defeated, I could no longer blame him for cheating when I had done something just as bad. His presence made me suddenly grow nervous. I grasped at my knees as I tried to regain my composure.

He sat down beside me, and reached for my hand. I felt too weak to object, even when he started drawing random patterns in my palm. Surprisingly I found his company comforting. His finger then brushed over the scab from the small cut I had self-inflict. It felt sore even though he didn't apply much pressure and I pulled my arm back instinctively.

"Amara, what's that?" he asked me even though his expression was obvious that he knew exactly what it was.

"Nothing. Don't worry, it was an accident," I defended unconvincingly.

Did you just fall onto the blade while cutting vegetables? Pete kept this thought to himself. He knew better then to question it, for he too hated getting the third degree about cutting. I knew that's what Brendon meant when he said she tried to...

"Ya know... Tattoos are a better form of self-inflicted pain that still helps to drown the hurt inside. Well, at least when you get one you're not left with an ugly scar. I think they can be good because you remember how much the last one hurt, and how you don't want to go through it again."

I mulled over his words and the irony. "And I see that worked so well for you. You should talk Wentz, you're covered in them," I said.

"Hey I said they can be good to remind you. Anytime I had the urge, I just inked myself. Haven't gone across the street ever since my first tatt. Anyway, I think mine are beautiful." He stretched out his arms to admire the craftsmanship. "Every one has meaning and comes from the heart. Cheesy I know, but each has its own story, created from a raw feeling at a specific time and place."

I knew what he was saying, I knew he was right. I already planned never to do it again, but if ever I felt weak his words would help get me through it.

"Enough with my after-school special speech, the bottom line is, chicks dig tatts over scars anyday," he said jokingly.

This deep and meaningful was really nice, especially coming from Pete. It was such a rare thing with him that you knew when he was like that, he really meant it.


[Meanwhile in town]


Ryan's POV



During the car ride, Amara was all I could think about. She's all I thought about the whole night, the first thing when I woke up, and for the rest of the day. It was hard being in the house. Hard to face Amara, and restrain myself from kissing her in front of everyone. I was only going into town to bring Chastity out of the hospital and see how she was. Then I would end it, like a man, face to face. I had grown some balls, and I felt a power in me to act on impulse.

Patrick dropped me off at the hospital and then we parted ways. I told him I would be staying in town with Chastity for the night. After I signed her out of the hospital we booked a room at a nearby hotel. I couldn't take her back to Pete's cabin as her allergies might act up again. I had to tell her. Even though she wasn't 100%, if I put if off any longer I may never break up with her. By then it may be too late and I would have lost Amara for good. We ordered in, and I planned to tell her after dinner.

"Mmmm, that wasn't too bad. I am stuffed," I said.

"Ryan, we need to talk," she replied out of no where.

Good, because I need to talk to you too.

"Yeah Chastity, we do."

"Okay good, can I go first?" she asked.

Yes, if she breaks it off first then at least she won't hate me for ending it. I nodded in reply.

"Well, you know how my allergy medication worsened my condition instead of making it better," she started off.

"Yeah... was there something wrong with the pills?"

"Umm no. Not exactly, nothing's wrong with them. Apparently I reacted badly because... because..."

She took a deep breathe and said, "It was because I'm pregnant."

Oh my god.





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