Thursday
11:12 PM
Brendon's house
I get more nervous with every step I take toward Brendon's front door. I'm scared of what will be in his house, in his room. I'm scared of his parents, and how they'll just burst into joy when they see me. I'm scared of his little sisters that adored me. But I guess, mostly, I'm scared that they won't be happy to see me. I'm scared that they'll be scared of me.
Brendon reaches for the doorknob of his front door, when he realizes I stopped moving way behind him. He looks around for me, then looks at me and smiles. "It's okay... Really."
There's so much assurance in his voice, but something makes me not believe him. I'm so afraid of what's behind that door, like it's a haunted or abandoned house, and Brendon's just tricking me into going in. But I guess I know that all that's inside is a big loving family under that roof and behind those doors and inside those windows. I shouldn't be scared of them at all.
Brendon reaches out his free hand for me to take, trying to be more and more assuring. I stare at it, white and cold, and I realize what I'm really scared of is Brendon. After all these years, I'd have never guessed he'd be the one I'd fear.
I keep my arms folded across my chest and stare at the ground as I walk up the stoop and next to Brendon. He opens the door and steps inside. I trail a distance behind his heels. The first thing I hear is the sound of Mrs. Urie's voice. I recognize it immediately. "Brendon Boyd! Why aren't you wearing a jacket?"
I feel kind of bad, like a terrible burden, and I walk into the warm household after Brendon and shut the door. Brendon sets his baby brother down in a play pin by the door, as Mrs. Urie spots me and exclaims, "Oh, Ryan, honey, it's so good to see you!"
I smile weakly, careful of the cut that still stings on my left cheek. "It's good to see you."
Mrs. Urie's a smart woman. She's probably already got this whole situation figured out. "Do you need anymore help, Mom?" Brendon asks.
I know she's going to say no, now that I'm here, all bruised up and shivering in her doorway. I hate being this thing that has to be taken care of, like all other priorities get set aside for me. That's how it always was when I visited Brendon's house. I hate being the center of attention, I hate being taken care of. I wasn't used to it at all until I met Brendon. Then he showed me a whole new world.
Mrs. Urie says she's done for the night, and how cold I look! and how I should go straight upstairs and get cleaned up right away. Brendon gracefully leads me upstairs and into his room. This is where my stomach drops.
It's not a lot like his old room. I remember him being a lot messier. His sheets were always half-off the bed, pillows, magazines, homework all over the floor. I kind of liked it that way. But this room, it's neat and tidy, adorned with pictures of he and a lot of people I don't know, and plastered with sports plaques, mostly football. It's kind of an example of what I guess I always knew Brendon would grow up to be. Organized. Successful. Clean.
I can't help but let him know just how strange this is. But I actually just want to know what he's feeling too. "Brendon..."
"I know," he says. "It's okay. You're safe here."
I sigh. "No, Brendon... this is weird."
He looks up at me slightly, standing there awkwardly. Then he takes a deep breath, spinning away from me slowly on his heels, running his hands through his dark, silky-looking hair. I forget how soft that hair looks. From a distance, it's deadened. Being this close to Brendon reminds me of everything that I love about him, but once he starts talking, I know I'll remember everything I hate, and everything that's kept us apart.
Like how he abandoned me, right after he said he wouldn't. How he left me here to decay for two years. Twenty-four months. Seven hundred and thirty nights of crying myself to sleep over him. And now here I am, about to fall asleep right next to him again, and I don't know if I can.
"Ryan."
Hearing him say my name is surreal.
"Ryan... I'm so sorry. I should be your friend. We should be friends."
For two years, I've tried to figure out what to say to Brendon... I've run through this exact conversation in my head so many times, and none of it even matters now...
"I shouldn't have gotten mad at you for keeping the ring." He takes a few steps toward me, and he takes my hand in his, looking at the ring with the pretty little jewel on it. And he smiles. "I gave it to you. I'm glad you kept it. Because..."
I can see so much going on his head, so much that he's not actually saying...
"Because I kept everything too."
I look at him, clueless as to what to say, what to do... All I know is I've never wanted to be in Brendon's arms as much as I do right now at this very moment.
But it's too good to last. Brendon lets go of me quickly and takes two steps back again and says, "You should get some sleep. Take my bed."
I look at it, all made up flat and neat. "Oh, no, I-"
Brendon just smiles and shakes his head, and he takes a few blankets and a pillow off his bed. He throws them on the floor and he curls up with them. He leaves me no choice.
I smile at him with more strength than I gave Brendon's mom, then I crawl up onto his bed. I expect it to smell just like I remember him, but it doesn't. But it's still an amazing scent to be wrapped up in.
It's about twenty minutes later when I'm sure Brendon is asleep. I can't fall asleep for the life of me and probably won't all night. I just keep looking around Brendon's room, amazed by all the plaques, awards and pictures that I'd never known about before. Posters and pictures of bands we used to talk about together. The same t-shirts hanging in his closet that I remember removing from his body...
I hear movement from the floor and I look over to see Brendon's silhouette standing up, throwing the blankets off of him and before I know it, we're both in his bed, tucked underneath the covers, and I feel my heart pound. I'm sure Brendon can hear it. I know he can hear my breath racing. "Are you okay?" I ask nervously.
"Mmhm." He closes his eyes and wraps himself to his shoulders in his covers. "'Was cold."
And with that, he stops moving, so I stop moving, and his face is so close to mine that I can see every detail of it... Every bone that holds up his skin, his soft pink lips and his silky dark hair... I'm sure he's asleep now. He has to be. No one can look that perfect unless they're asleep.
I want to touch him again... I feel like I should wrap my arm over his cold body and hold him. I feel like I should just breathe him in like the drug he is so I can fall asleep. I feel like I should kiss those lips that pull off that pout so well...
But Brendon then takes another deep breath and those lips, they start to move. And that voice deep down inside him, it starts to sing. "I wanted you to know... I love the way you laugh... I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away."
My breathing staggers in my throat, my eyes widen, and my hearing sharpens, hearing that beautiful sound again. I'm still so head-over-heels for this boy... I don't even try to interpret why he's singing the most beautiful song to me. I can do that later. For now, it feels just like it did ages ago, when I thought I'd have him forever. So I just listen.
I guess the worst is over now, and we can breathe again.
we are broken.
<3
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