Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > I Want to Kiss You on the Mouth and Tell You I'm Your Biggest Fan
Alone.
That is how I feel all the time. Life is just a joke that God likes to play on us. Something to keep us scrambling. I go through the same thing everyday. Wake up. Shower. Breakfast. School.
I sit through first period, barely awake as the teacher speaks to me in a foreign language I barely understand. Not to mention its first period. I only woke up like less than an hour ago. Bell.
I shoot out of class to go down that hallway. I have to get my timing right or else there’s no point. I nod to the few people I know as I scurry up the stairs. Ok. Time to see if it was worth it. Slow my pace and walk ahead, head bowed, looking at the people passing in the opposing direction from under my bangs.
There. The person of my dreams, the person who I long to see everyday, who I form my schedule around, the reason for my existence. I watch him subtly as he passes, laughing with his friends, then I blink and he’s gone.
Second period, English. Favorite class. I take my seat behind some annoying field hockey player, in front of some smart ass football player, who, ok, is a great artist and semi attractive, but is too arrogant as he makes snide remarks to the guy sitting next to him.
The trench poets. I listen in class as we go over the different poems. Mentally roll my eyes and sigh at the stupid swimmer across the room trying to read the poem out loud. You pause at the punctuation. Not at the end of the line AND the punctuation. I sigh again and tune the class out. Mr. Conley knows I know it all anyways. Bell.
I stand up slowly this time, pack up slowly. The timing has to be right. I slowly walk down another hallway, watching people pass. I turn the corner as my face falls. Not this time. That means I have to wait 5 periods before I see him again.
Third period, Science. Feeling more alone than ever. This is the only class I have with my best friend, or who is supposed to be my best friend. He’s not talking to me, who knows why. I take my seat, pulling out some paper to write on. The rest of the class files in and I see him take his seat in front of me, not even glancing in my direction.
Biomes. We review for the test we have on them tomorrow. I glance up from my ramblings every once in a while to fool the teacher into thinking I’m taking notes and paying attention. Sometimes I glare at the light brown hair in front of me, wishing his ice blue eyes would turn to meet my light brown. Bell.
I pack up normally, no need for timing this time. In the hallway, I watch the light brown hair I’ve known almost forever bob away from me.
Study hall. I walk into the class, headphones still in place. Sit in the back corner and continue what I was working on last period. Bell.
Lunch. The headphones are still in place. Outside on the curb, I eat my sandwich and read. Bell.
Study hall again. Only this time, I head up to the music hallway. I get my guitar while Mr. Litzenberg, the music teacher, opens one of the rooms for me. In the sound proof room I let my mind wander as my fingers wander over notes and chords. I play songs I make up and songs that I know and sing along to. Radiohead. Queen. Counting Crows. I drown myself in the sound. Bell.
Sixth period, Math. This class is just ridiculous. The teacher has no control. I rarely bother taking notes. Bell.
Stuff already packed, I hop out of my seat, down the stairs, down a hall, and down another set of stairs. The timing has to be right. Slow down as I reach the door, squint as the sun hits me. I turn to walk down the wood chip trail to my class. Head bowed, hands in hoodie. There. Walking with a group. I continue to walk toward them, they continue to walk toward me. I feel a brush again my elbow, then that voice. I hear it murmur a sorry. My elbow tingles as I realize what happened. It only spreads through my body as I enter my next class.
Last period, Government. Not that I paid attention. I was too busy thinking. I spent the whole class day dreaming, dreaming about him talking to me, thinking of me, hell even looking at me. Bell.
Locker. Car. Home. Head Automatica. Fall Out Boy. My Chemical Romance.
Homework. TV. Dinner. I tell my dad good night and he grunts in response. I retreat to my room and open up my life, my laptop. Yahoo. Projectplaylist. Myspace. Livejournal. I type up what I wrote today and post, then go back to Myspace. Search God. There he is. That smile frozen in time glaring on the screen in front of me. My eyes skim the already memorized facts. Mormon. Sings. Guitar. Capri-sun.
Click pictures and it’s a library of times spent with friends and family, pictures of himself in his bedroom. I click on the same picture I did last night, and the night before and the night before. And I do the same thing I did those nights and every other night before. The thing that leaves me sweaty and panting.
**
The week goes by the same. Nothing changing. Still alone, so alone. Friday rolls around. I decide to change it up.
Third period I take the pass and walk out of class. I feel my best friend’s eyes burning a hole in my back as the door shuts behind me. I wander the hallways aimlessly. Look at the displays, listen to the kid play the piano in the auditorium- wait. Who was that?
I turn around and go back to the doorway and stand and watch as his fingers glide over the keys like his life depends on it. He’s so engrossed he doesn’t notice me staring. He’s the epitome of beauty in every way. I hear the music stop and my breath hitches. I turn and walk away, but I hear footsteps coming up the hallway behind me. I turn the corner and take the long way back to class. I’m safe.
Not so fast. After I turn the corner again, there he is. Walking down the hall towards me. I drop my head and watch my feet take me step by step ahead. He’s getting closer. I can see his feet.
“Hi, Ryan.”
I stop dead in my tracks. Did that just happen? I turn around and watch as his back walks away. He turns around and winks at me, smiling.
I stand there and stare after him. He turns the corner and is gone, but I’m still there. Wondering.
A/N in case you're not as obsessed with panic! at the disco as i am, then here are the characters:
Main POV- Ryan Ross
"God"- Brendon Urie
Best friend- Spencer Smith
That is how I feel all the time. Life is just a joke that God likes to play on us. Something to keep us scrambling. I go through the same thing everyday. Wake up. Shower. Breakfast. School.
I sit through first period, barely awake as the teacher speaks to me in a foreign language I barely understand. Not to mention its first period. I only woke up like less than an hour ago. Bell.
I shoot out of class to go down that hallway. I have to get my timing right or else there’s no point. I nod to the few people I know as I scurry up the stairs. Ok. Time to see if it was worth it. Slow my pace and walk ahead, head bowed, looking at the people passing in the opposing direction from under my bangs.
There. The person of my dreams, the person who I long to see everyday, who I form my schedule around, the reason for my existence. I watch him subtly as he passes, laughing with his friends, then I blink and he’s gone.
Second period, English. Favorite class. I take my seat behind some annoying field hockey player, in front of some smart ass football player, who, ok, is a great artist and semi attractive, but is too arrogant as he makes snide remarks to the guy sitting next to him.
The trench poets. I listen in class as we go over the different poems. Mentally roll my eyes and sigh at the stupid swimmer across the room trying to read the poem out loud. You pause at the punctuation. Not at the end of the line AND the punctuation. I sigh again and tune the class out. Mr. Conley knows I know it all anyways. Bell.
I stand up slowly this time, pack up slowly. The timing has to be right. I slowly walk down another hallway, watching people pass. I turn the corner as my face falls. Not this time. That means I have to wait 5 periods before I see him again.
Third period, Science. Feeling more alone than ever. This is the only class I have with my best friend, or who is supposed to be my best friend. He’s not talking to me, who knows why. I take my seat, pulling out some paper to write on. The rest of the class files in and I see him take his seat in front of me, not even glancing in my direction.
Biomes. We review for the test we have on them tomorrow. I glance up from my ramblings every once in a while to fool the teacher into thinking I’m taking notes and paying attention. Sometimes I glare at the light brown hair in front of me, wishing his ice blue eyes would turn to meet my light brown. Bell.
I pack up normally, no need for timing this time. In the hallway, I watch the light brown hair I’ve known almost forever bob away from me.
Study hall. I walk into the class, headphones still in place. Sit in the back corner and continue what I was working on last period. Bell.
Lunch. The headphones are still in place. Outside on the curb, I eat my sandwich and read. Bell.
Study hall again. Only this time, I head up to the music hallway. I get my guitar while Mr. Litzenberg, the music teacher, opens one of the rooms for me. In the sound proof room I let my mind wander as my fingers wander over notes and chords. I play songs I make up and songs that I know and sing along to. Radiohead. Queen. Counting Crows. I drown myself in the sound. Bell.
Sixth period, Math. This class is just ridiculous. The teacher has no control. I rarely bother taking notes. Bell.
Stuff already packed, I hop out of my seat, down the stairs, down a hall, and down another set of stairs. The timing has to be right. Slow down as I reach the door, squint as the sun hits me. I turn to walk down the wood chip trail to my class. Head bowed, hands in hoodie. There. Walking with a group. I continue to walk toward them, they continue to walk toward me. I feel a brush again my elbow, then that voice. I hear it murmur a sorry. My elbow tingles as I realize what happened. It only spreads through my body as I enter my next class.
Last period, Government. Not that I paid attention. I was too busy thinking. I spent the whole class day dreaming, dreaming about him talking to me, thinking of me, hell even looking at me. Bell.
Locker. Car. Home. Head Automatica. Fall Out Boy. My Chemical Romance.
Homework. TV. Dinner. I tell my dad good night and he grunts in response. I retreat to my room and open up my life, my laptop. Yahoo. Projectplaylist. Myspace. Livejournal. I type up what I wrote today and post, then go back to Myspace. Search God. There he is. That smile frozen in time glaring on the screen in front of me. My eyes skim the already memorized facts. Mormon. Sings. Guitar. Capri-sun.
Click pictures and it’s a library of times spent with friends and family, pictures of himself in his bedroom. I click on the same picture I did last night, and the night before and the night before. And I do the same thing I did those nights and every other night before. The thing that leaves me sweaty and panting.
**
The week goes by the same. Nothing changing. Still alone, so alone. Friday rolls around. I decide to change it up.
Third period I take the pass and walk out of class. I feel my best friend’s eyes burning a hole in my back as the door shuts behind me. I wander the hallways aimlessly. Look at the displays, listen to the kid play the piano in the auditorium- wait. Who was that?
I turn around and go back to the doorway and stand and watch as his fingers glide over the keys like his life depends on it. He’s so engrossed he doesn’t notice me staring. He’s the epitome of beauty in every way. I hear the music stop and my breath hitches. I turn and walk away, but I hear footsteps coming up the hallway behind me. I turn the corner and take the long way back to class. I’m safe.
Not so fast. After I turn the corner again, there he is. Walking down the hall towards me. I drop my head and watch my feet take me step by step ahead. He’s getting closer. I can see his feet.
“Hi, Ryan.”
I stop dead in my tracks. Did that just happen? I turn around and watch as his back walks away. He turns around and winks at me, smiling.
I stand there and stare after him. He turns the corner and is gone, but I’m still there. Wondering.
A/N in case you're not as obsessed with panic! at the disco as i am, then here are the characters:
Main POV- Ryan Ross
"God"- Brendon Urie
Best friend- Spencer Smith
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