FicWad

Summary: Ever since that horrible day, Ryan has decided to go back to his old ways. He decides to keep himself closed; letting absolutely nobody in. Burning every bridge he once built and washing away his belief of love. He's become a cynic; always seeing the negative of things. He's lost trust in humankind and himself. But, when he meets Helen, this is becoming a struggle. She keeps on coming closer with her quirky optimism and a deep trust, as Ryan tries desperately to keep his distance. This is harder than Ryan thought. But, Ryan is determined to stay the same. No matter what it takes.

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Chapter One: I Never Gave A Damn About The Weather.

"I know it's sad that I never gave a damn about the weather, and it never gave a damn about me."--Panic at the Disco.

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A gray sky swirled above a crisp Nevada world, sprinkling the air with a fresh scent of rain followed with crackling thunders. The weatherman must've been mistaken today, for his promises pledged a day of a golden glow upon this Summer earth. Alas, there wasn't a Summer brilliance showering over these skies, only deep billows of gray puffs had slithered over the town in a matter of ignorant minutes. A bliss of soothing wind had swaggered over the tan skins of disgruntled people that were hoping for sun, but were soon disappointed by one peer to the sky. Oddly, Ryan was just fine with the weather.

He peered to the sky with a rather hopeful look, as citizens hastily ran past him with protective newspapers over their bowed heads. His wishes were for a storm of water droplets, because he thought he'd be able to wash away these heavy emotions with just a simple storm. It was quite unlikely, and Ryan somehow figured this, yet his hopeful expression remained. He picked up his guitar; caressing the strings softly with his slender fingers, producing a sweetly sad sound that drifted amongst the icy atmosphere in attempt to connect with the mood. But, his fingers began to tremble and interrupt the divine melody of his melancholy. He sighed and placed his guitar beside him as he lied down, allowing the dew immersed grass swallow him as it's sharp-edged blades pierced his skin.

His chestnut eyes imprisoned the sky, watching each cloud rumble into view. Through the cracking of thunder and the untainted scent lingering among the breezes, there was not even one drop of rain. It looked as though the world were about to have a shower, but somehow it didn't take action. No matter how much Ryan desired this rain, there wasn't any. It was as though nothing were going his way today. He glanced across the grassy canvas of ground, and nobody was of sight. Ryan figured they all ran into their cozy homes; warm and safe. He automatically wished that feeling were his.

He decided that July 16 is the worst day he has ever experienced, with his fusing emotions and the utter lust to just crawl in a corner and never come out again. Unfortunately, this was not the case today. His mind was filled with so many unwanted thoughts, that he wished would just go away. Or perhaps, wash away from the rain. He looked to the sky, only to have disappointment replace the hope he felt.

He wondered how could he possibly think of anything with this emotions blending together along with that burning sensation in his stomach whenever a simple remembrance of this crosses his mind. Ryan wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to get the hell out of this town. But, no matter how much he wanted to do all those things, he could not possibly allow himself to do it. It would destroy his dignity, his self-control, and all his hard work of bottling his emotions up until he's in front of pen and paper. But, as Ryan looked across the ground, he could not find any paper or pens. Only his lonely guitar that he couldn't play because his emotions discovered how to control his fingers.

His Brendon was gone; forever in the arms of another. How could something he loved so dearly so soon be out of his firm grasp? He couldn't help but to feel the betrayal that had been lavished onto him. As if every moment Brendon and him had together was fake. Every kiss; a tender lie upon lips. All the romantic words, weren't words at all. But, just a pretty cover over a dull metaphor. It seemed all like a facade; a charade of love.


Chestnuts were swallowed by a river of hot, salty water that frequently trickled onto a pale cheek of flesh. Not even Queen Mab could cure this sorrow with her hallucinogenic remedies, when ever he looked into Brendon's tear shattered eyes. The brown hues hid blatant messages of pain and repent of a midnight's pleasure. Ryan could not bare to have his reflection immersed by such depressing optics, but his own eyes did not falter once from Brendon's. The hours held apology and anger; despair clinging to each minute. Every gloomy moment was of Ryan's hatred, for he only desired an escape. But, Ryan knew this was quite impossible. They had to talk this through, in which both Ryan and Brendon did not want. Ryan wished he could just lay his head upon Brendon's chest, and fall asleep to the harmonious melody of his sweet heart beat. But, Ryan could not bring himself to do such things. Not after what Brendon did.

"Ryan... I... I didn't mean, too."

Infinite shards of dull glass surrounded the two men's feet, for Ryan had just knocked over a coffee table, in which held fragile objects. Ryan's emotions were too strong to handle by this point, and that frightened both Ryan and Brendon. A few moments passed, in which were of fear and vehement. They both stood there, words desperate to flee from their trembling mouths. Alas, neither of them uttered a sound. The only sound was of the ceiling fan, which whirled the intense atmosphere into a cool breeze. The apartment seemed suffocating; enclosing the men with their issue. Finally, Ryan spoke.

"What do you mean, you didn't mean to sleep with her, Brendon?!" Ryan yelled, spite clutching to his stinging words.

"It just... happened." Brendon attempted, his eyes leaking sorrow.

Ryan snorted in mockery.

"Having sex with another person who isn't your boyfriend doesn't 'just happen', Brendon. I'm not stupid."

Brendon's eyes had grown an interest to his worn sneakers, for his gaze was latched onto nothing more. Surely, there was a way to fix this. There had to be.

"Ryan, I'm... I'm so sorry. It'll never happen again. I promise."

"You're damn right it won't."

Brendon looked from his shoes into Ryan's hostile eyes with hope, but he had a feeling this hope was just a lost cause.

"You can fuck her all you want, now. I'm leaving." Ryan spat.

"Leaving?"

Ryan just stormed to their room and began stuffing needed clothes into a huge suitcase.The fabric under his trembling fingertips began to shake with rage. Ryan couldn't control his anger and this scared him, but he still threw the clothing into the suitcase. Suddenly, a firm hand clasped his wrist, preventing the trembles and the packing.

"Get off me, Brendon." Ryan hissed.

Instead, he jerked Ryan around so they could be facing each other, and kissed Ryan passionately and hungrily. Emotions were flowing violently through both of their veins; unable to control. Suddenly, Ryan pushed Brendon away harshly, as he stumbled backwards, smashing himself into a bedside table, knocking off an alarm clock and a lamp with his flailing arms, and falling onto the floor with a dull thud, as the pain washed over him in a wave. Brendon looked to Ryan in fear at what he had just done. Ryan had never handled Brendon like that before, no matter how angry he had gotten with Brendon. The gentle, sweet Ryan that Brendon had once known was no longer there. Instead, he was replaced with a brutal, enraged monster with cold tears.

"No, Brendon. You had your chance, and you blew it. It's not my fault you can't keep your dick in your pants!" Ryan yelled, turning back to his suitcase.

His words frightened Brendon. He was afraid to retort, for Ryan's emotions were out-of-control by this point. But, Brendon was never one to keep quiet, anyway.

"Fine, Ryan! Just run away. Yeah, run away like you usually do." Brendon spat, instantly regretting his words once Ryan spun around; venom bubbling in his piercing eyes.

"Yeah? Well, at least I didn't run to some slut for some action!"

"Fuck you, Ryan!"

"No thanks. I think you've already had enough of that with her."

"No. I haven't had enough. I just might go back for some more. She's a better lover than you'll ever be, anyway!"

Suddenly, Ryan had stopped, as if the venom in the last statement had penetrated his muscles and caused a silence throughout his fury. It was only Brendon's breathing that had filled the room, but you couldn't hear Ryan's. It was as though he were just statue, standing cracked and unmoving in front of his suitcase. But, suddenly, Ryan fell down, hugging his knees close to him as he violently sobbed.

Brendon, who was once full of anger and insult, had suddenly softened with empathy and regret. He had never seen Ryan like this before; so full of emotion and vulnerability. And seeing Ryan break down into tears, made Brendon regret everything that he did. The insults, the cheating, the betrayal. All of it, Brendon wished he could take back. Being the cause of his love's tears? That's just horrible.

Brendon knelt down to Ryan and cautiously wrapped his arms around the shaking body. Ryan laid his head onto Brendon's chest, allowing him to stroke his hair and soothingly hush his sobs. His heart beat was slow and unsteady, yet harmonious. Ryan wished he could lay there all day. Brendon began to rock them back in forth in steady motion, humming softly to quiet the desperate tears falling from Ryan's eyes.

"Do you... Love her?" Ryan asked, biting his bottom lip, preparing for Brendon's response.

They had stopped rocking and the reassuring humming from Brendon's lips dropped to a silence. The only noise was of the men's breathing, but even that wasn't reassuring enough.

"Ryan..."

Ryan closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't asked. His fear of Brendon's answer grew as the silence continued. He wished he could just fall asleep to the beat of his favorite song: Brendon's heart. Alas, an answer had to come soon. And Ryan somehow already figured his response, in which made him feel like dying. Ryan slowly released himself from Brendon's grasp and stood up; heavy and sick. He looked down to the unmoving boy as a single tear rolled down his cheek and onto a worn lace upon Brendon's shoe. Brendon had witnessed this, but thought it best if he didn't look back up.

Ryan continued packing in silence. But, without the anger, just the heavy heart. As soon as he was done, a long sigh escaped his mouth; desperate for words to flee from his tongue. Alas, they were silenced by the haunting consequences that were bound to follow. So, he walked to the door, his eyes upon Brendon the whole time. But, Brendon's eyes were still fascinated with his shoes, since he didn't even once look up. Perhaps he was too ashamed. Or maybe he couldn't bare to see Ryan's wounded soul. Or it could be that he didn't care much at all. Whatever it was, it hurt Ryan and he wished that Brendon could look at him just once.

But, do wishes ever really come true?

"Goodbye, Brendon." Ryan weakly whispered as his hand grasped the knob of the bedroom door.

No response.

"I... I love you, Brendon."

Ryan quickly exited the room, feeling empty, misplaced, and broken. He leaned his back against the door, a miniscule hope showering his torn soul. He thought that maybe, just maybe, Brendon would think he were foolish and come running to apologize. Or if he were to whisper 'I love you' back, just behind the closed door. I mean, of course he would. Brendon always came through. No matter what. Ryan knew he could trust him. So, Ryan waited there.

But, the door didn't open. And he heard nothing behind the door. And Ryan realized, that he couldn't trust Brendon to come through. Not this time. Not... Ever.

He slowly walked to the front door, still hopeful. Still, there was no sight of Brendon. Only the cozy interior of his apartment and the blatant smell of emptiness.

He slowly twisted the doorknob, taking one last peek over his shoulder, and then he left.


Ryan couldn't stand to recall such memories. But the remnants of that night kept occurring in flashes inside his mind. He thought of Brendon with his new love. He wondered if they were together right now. If they were in bed, cuddling and talking. If they were cruising the mall, fooling around and trying on bras over their clothes, so the cashiers could get a hoot out of them. If they were playing their guitars together, as Brendon allowed his voice to escape into a sweet melody. Ryan wondered if they did anything that Ryan and Brendon used to do together. Maybe she could satisfy Brendon in bed better than Ryan could, but Ryan could satisfy him in all the other places. She didn't know what made him angry or what made him sad. She didn't know how to have fun with Brendon like Ryan did. She didn't know that Brendon cries every time after watching E. T. She doesn't know that he has an unnatural obsession with teddy bears. How do you think he got the nickname 'Brenny Bear'? She doesn't know that he loves cereal more than anything among the planet. She just doesn't know. And Ryan does.

Suddenly, Ryan started to cry. He hadn't allowed himself to cry like this for weeks. He hadn't even allowed himself to show any emotion at all. All he did was walk around with indifference etching into his presence, and if anyone dared to ask what was wrong, he'd give him a shrug and move on. He blocked off everyone and anyone that was ever close to him and burned so many bridges that he had lost count. He couldn't let himself open up to anyone ever again, or else, he will just end up like what happened between him and Brendon. He built so many barriers and his guard was set up to the highest length. But somehow, on this particular day, his guard had fallen and those barriers seemed torn.

For the first time, in a long time, Ryan needed a friend. A lending hand. Someone to comfort and to hold him. To always be there for him. To ask what was wrong and if he was okay and actually care. And to never let him down, just like everyone around him seemed to be doing lately. And the one person who he thought would never do that, did. He cried harder,

He trembled violently; his cries growing more desperate and louder. He hadn't cried this hard since that horrible day, when Brendon held Ryan in his arms, and rocked him slowly with a soft hum. Suddenly, Ryan felt water pound his head. He looked up to the sky, and saw rain showering the Earth with it's cold loveliness and divine veins of lightening streaking across the gray canvas of sky. As Ryan's sobs grew harder, the rain had followed suit.

"Hey! Hey, kid! Are you okay?"

Ryan jerked his head to the left, where he saw a woman with an umbrella shouting through the rain by a nearby bench. Despite the umbrella, her curly black and blonde hair was soaked. But, that's all Ryan could make out of her through his sticky tears and the freezing drops of rain.

She began walking towards him, in which Ryan could make out her features better. She had tannish-olive skin, with thin yellow bracelets clinking together on her wrist whenever she moved. A petite figure she had, with good sized breasts, that seemed to show better with a soaked shirt. (Not that Ryan was looking or anything...) As she got closer, he noticed a diamond stud glittering off her nose, which was of the button-nature. She seemed to look as though she were of the Spanish-heritage, but you really couldn't tell with her perfect English. She had full, plump lips that were glossed over in pink and bright, blinding yellow Converse. Not to mention her brightly-yellow and white polka dotted shirt, with blue jeans, and a yellow studded belt. She was also sporting three yellow-beaded necklaces and a yellow headband to match. Even her fucking umbrella was yellow!

I wonder what her favorite color is..., Ryan thought sarcastically.

"Hey, are you alright, man?" she asked, as she finally reached him.

Ryan just looked at her, tears still filling his eyes as sympathy etched into her expression.

Ryan just simply shook his head.

And just when he thought this pretty-little thing would just ditch him, carry on, apathetic of his situation, with an attitude of oh-I-tried-and-now-I'm-done, she did something Ryan thought would never happen.

She held out her hand.

This person; of whom Ryan didn't even know, was there for him, in his weakest moment. She took her time, in the pouring rain, to come over, and see what was wrong with this stranger. Ryan thought this was incredible. She didn't have to care. She didn't even have to look over here and ask if he were okay. But she did.

And Ryan took her hand.

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