But You Don’t Really Care For Music (Love is Not a Victory March) [s/a]
Title: But You Don’t Really Care For Music (Love is Not a Victory March)
Author: stones_at_moons
Rating: pg-13
Word Count: 2, 257 words
Pairing: Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross
POV: 3rd person
Summary: There was nobody there to say, “Oh my God, Bren, is it possible for you to not stuff up a song once in a while?” and then stick a small post it with a smiley face on his bunk.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any characters. They belong to each other themselves. Title comes from “Hallelujah” by Jeff Buckley.
I just have to say that I support Panic! in their decision (I mean, come on, it didn’t exactly happen this year) and this fic does not suggest that they should get back together, or that i hate them because they split. :)
Beta: bookxbutterfly :DDDDDD -flails epically-
Author Notes: I wrote this in a couple of days, a couple of months ago, and now that I read over it, I realise that there are a lot of little cliché things that I vowed myself that I would avoid. But I really like this fic anyway, so I thought I’d share it with you guys :) Comment/Concrit is love.
When Ryan had announced that he and Jon were leaving, Brendon’s only thought had been, “I was never good enough.” (Of course, after the whole initial reaction of, “Really funny joke, guys... Um, wait - you are kidding, right?”)
After Brendon had been assured that it was just because of “musical differences,” he had been convinced that he, too, could go in a different direction.
First, the break-up shocked the world. The Young Veins were on their rise to fame, while Jon and Ryan’s ex-lead singer was selling CD’s and old records and instruments at some run down record shop.
Spencer stayed with him for a couple of months and they managed to squeeze out a single for a movie. But then Ryan had gone through another one of his mental break downs and, of course, Spencer flew to Chicago like the good little best friend he is; only to decide that his place was there, beside Ryan.
So Brendon was alone. Stuck in Las Vegas; somewhere that had once amazed him with bright lights and promises of good times, but now only held the promise of alcohol and cheap whores - both of which he stayed away from.
But Brendon hadn’t cared. Yeah, sure, when the headlines had come out with things like, ”Lead Singer of Band Panic! at the Disco Devastated by split, Doesn’t Know What Do To With Himself” and “Panic!’s Brendon Urie Heartbroken After Ryan Ross’ Departure,” he might have cried a little. But that was all in the past.
And he was… as content as he could have been. He was only 22; he could deal with being alone when his best friend Shane was off on some far-away project. And the record store was his home. Everyone treated him like an equal, and seemed to forget that he had enough money and contacts to buy the whole store if he wanted to.
But he didn’t sing anymore. Every time he opened his mouth… it just wasn’t right. There was nobody there to say, “Oh my God, Bren, is it possible for you to not stuff up a song once in a while?” and then stick a small post it with a smiley face on his bunk. When he opened his mouth, words came out, but this time, they were his own.
Of course, Pete had tried to call him, talk to him, connect with him in some way. But Brendon just… he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. Pete, Patrick, Gabe, William… they all had other lives to live; families, friends, band mates - some, even all three. And once people realised his being anti-social, they left him alone. He was forgotten quickly.
So Brendon opened up the shop, like he did every morning, and started to go through the CD’s, marking which band they seemed to be low on. He picked up the last The Beatles’ St. Peppers and frowned, as if in thought.
0.0
Ryan walked along a nearly-deserted road of Las Vegas, heading towards the shop people had said Brendon worked at. The shop itself was tatty and run down, but Ryan could see the beauty of the dusty walls and old posters. He looked through the window and his breath stopped. Standing right there, frowning at some CD, was Brendon, exactly the same but different in so many ways. He was much thinner, boarding on anorexic, Ryan thought with a small frown; and his hair was long and curled slightly at the back.
Ryan was about to enter when he saw a small tear run down Brendon’s pale cheeks. Ryan’s heart clenched as he turned and entered into the store with a quiet jingle. Brendon didn’t look up, just carried on looking at the case in his hand. Ryan’s frown dropped when he saw the St. Peppers lying in Brendon’s hand and oh. Right.
Brendon wiped his tears away and finally looked up, freezing when he saw Ryan approaching him hesitantly. The only evidence that Ryan had once been his Ryan were the two tattoos on his wrist. Otherwise, Ryan was nothing like Brendon imagined him to be. No make-up, no waistcoat... nothing.
“Ryan,” Brendon choked out, composing himself quickly. “What are you… how did you…”
“It’s not that easy to just disappear, Brendon,” Ryan scoffed, then sighed, observing the younger boy in front of him. “You were just… gone, B,” Brendon flinched at the nickname.
“Yeah, well, I figured that since I was alone, I might as well go all the way and be forgotten.” And really, it shouldn’t have been that satisfying to make Ryan look uncomfortable and sad, but Brendon couldn’t help it.
Ryan sighed. “The whole label misses you. We didn’t want you to disappear…” He hesitated. “I didn’t want you to disappear.” He looked at the ground solemnly.
If that was the best apology he could give, it just wasn’t good enough for Brendon.
Brendon looked down at the CD he was holding and his bottom lip trembled. “Don’t you just wish… that things could have been different?” Brendon hunched in on himself, but willed his eyes not to leak. Ryan faltered before nodding, and wrapped an arm around Brendon’s waist hesitantly.
Brendon felt Ryan’s hug and leaned in, smelling the vanilla and coffee fragrance that always clung to Ryan, as well as old cigarette smoke. Memories came flooding back - the good ones, not the ones with fighting, screaming, crying. The ones where they would huddle in their bunks, stealing kisses and listening to “Here Comes The Sun,” and “Hey Jude.”
“So, the whole label decided to fly out. They’re waiting back at an apartment Pete rented out,” Brendon stared at Ryan in disbelief, realizing people hadn’t forgotten about him like he thought they had.
“You mean… right here? In Las Vegas?”
“No, in Australia…” Ryan rolled his eyes, then chuckled. “Of course, here in Las Vegas, silly,” he added with a fond smile.
0.0
The car ride over to the apartment was silent, with fleeting glances and quiet shuffles, yet also thrumming with anticipation. When they arrived, Ryan took Brendon up the elevator until they were entering into a dark apartment. Ryan flicked on the lights and screams of, “Surprise!” was battering Brendon’s eardrums, and people were hugging the life out of him.
He looked over the label-mates he had missed so much, and willed himself not to cry. Instead, he grinned so wide you could almost see all of his teeth, and proceeded to talk to each and every person; asking them how they were and what was happening to their bands.
“Hey, Bren!” Pete jumped up onto the younger, but taller, boy’s back. Brendon’s knees wobbled with the weight; his own strength was nonexistent and Ryan chuckled as he watched them collapsed onto the ground. Ryan smiled when Brendon looked his way and mouthed a small, “thank you,” even though he wasn’t really the one who organised the thing - that was more of Spencer and Jon.
“Yo, Brendon! Why don’t you sing a song for us?” Gabe called from across the room. Brendon froze, smile slipping off his now-even-paler face.
“Uh… I don’t think…” Ryan frowned.
“Come on, Brendon. You used to sing all the time.”
Brendon shrugged helplessly.
“I… don’t… sing anymore.” The room fell silent, the air still with a sense of… Ryan didn’t even know what emotion filled the room. But he did know that nobody expected anything like that. No matter how Brendon changed - looks, places, whatever - everyone could count on the fact that he would still be singing Disney songs wherever he went. Brendon looked at his feet, hunched inwards a little. Pete looked like his dog had just died.
“But... why?” he finally managed to choke out. Brendon shrugged again.
“There’s just… no reason to anymore. For me.” And with that, Ryan marched up to Brendon and grabbed his arm, before pulling him into the kitchen.
“Brendon,” Ryan whispered. The younger boy turned, yanking his arm away, and started tracing the blue and white tiles on the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry,” Brendon said unexpectedly.
“Why?” Ryan demanded.
Brendon shrugged, starting to irritate the older boy, before replying. “I didn’t think you guys would care so much. I mean, you guys were the ones who left me. There wasn’t any reason to sing anymore.”
Suddenly, Ryan felt ashamed. He leaned over to where Brendon stood, and enveloped him into a hug. He breathed in the smell of coffee, sugar, and Brendon.
“No, Bren, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have made you feel like that.”
Brendon scoffed, finally letting a small bit of his anger out. “First you left, then Jon, and then you called Spencer, who you just know will do anything for you. And guess what, Ryan? When Keltie broke up with you 2 months after The Young Veins was formed, where was my phone call, hm?” Brendon sighed. “You never needed me, Ry. Only at the beginning, when you were to fucking scared to do it by yourself,” Brendon let out a hollow laugh. “But it was always about you, wasn’t it? Precious RyRy. Where was my comfort? When my parents kicked me out and I was forced to live in the same building as drug dealers and prostitutes, living off… well… you guys’ dinner leftovers, did anyone stop and ask how I was?” Brendon scoffed. “No, because poor Ryan was moaning over a couple of song lyric lines he just couldn’t get right.”
Brendon had tears streaming down his face, much like this morning. Again, he tried to compose himself, drying his eyes with the back of his hand and turning to face Ryan, who in turn was shaking, and wasn’t trying to dry his tears.
“I don’t blame you, Ryan,” he said softly, chocking back a sob. “I guess I just felt alone, and it got to me. But you’re successful now. You don’t need me,” Brendon laid his hands across his stomach, like a pregnant woman would do. It was only then Ryan noticed just how thin Brendon was. “No appetite,” Brendon clarified, observing as Ryan stared at his stomach.
Then, to Ryan’s surprise, Brendon walked over to where he was, wrapping an arm around Ryan’s neck and stroking his face with the other. “You must have known, Ry, that I had always been in love with you,” he looked straight into Ryan’s eyes, inwardly cringing at the fact that there was no dark stains of make-up paired with the tears, and that he made Ryan Ross cry.
Finally, Ryan opened his mouth, but he couldn’t force any words to come out. So instead, he leaned down and captured Brendon’s lips with his own damp ones, leaning forward until Brendon was pressed up against the counter. Hesitantly, he raised a hand and gently caressed the back of the boy’s neck, winding his fingers around the longer curls at the back. Brendon leaned into the kiss, licking the other’s bottom lip before prying his lips open and tasting the inside of his mouth. Then he realised what he was doing. He was making out with Ryan Ross.
With a push from Brendon, the boys separated. Ryan frowned and looked carefully at Brendon’s face, who was showing a mixture of anger and fear. “I… I can’t do this, Ryan. I can’t have you break my heart again.”
And with that he rushed into the spare bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Ryan stumbled into the now empty living room and sat on the couch, holding his head in his hands. What had made him kiss Brendon like that? He’d just broken up with his long term girlfriend… who he’s never really loved, Ryan now realised. Their whole two year relationship was based off the fact that Ryan didn’t want to face his feelings for Brendon. He… loved Brendon. Brendon had given him his heart all this time... and Ryan had just gone and trampled all over it.
Well, Ryan knew what to do now.
He gently pushed open the bedroom door to see Brendon huddled up on the bed, shaking. Slowly, watching the boy’s every move, Ryan climbed onto the bed, spooning Brendon, who didn’t protest against it, just whimpered. “I’m sorry, Bren. I didn’t realise it before but… I love you, too,” he whispered sincerely into his ear, like a secret proclamation. Brendon shivered. “And I promise, Brendon, that I will never, ever hurt you again. I just... never noticed anyone; never cared about anyone but myself,”
Brendon started moving and for a fleeting second Ryan thought he was moving away, until Brendon turned over ‘til their chests were pressed up against one another, lips centimetres apart.
“Don’t stop singing,” Ryan whispered. “Do whatever you want… just don’t stop singing.” Brendon smiled as Ryan ran a finger town his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Brendon. Your voice completes you.” Then he leaned in, pressing their lips together in a closed-mouthed, but meaningful, kiss. When they separated, Ryan looked into Brendon’s chocolate eyes and knew that everything would be… hard. Painful. Loving. Filled with sleepless nights and screams and crying.
But that was okay. They would be happy. So they lay there, smiling at one another without a word spoken to each other; until they fell asleep, still tangled up with one another.
0.0
In the morning, Ryan woke up alone. He stood up abruptly, worried; then stopped and grinned.
Brendon was singing “A Whole New World,” in the shower.
Ryan paused for a second, marvelling at the melodious sound, then went to join him.
A/N: So, I really suck at NOT rushing things, but some issues have been a little dificult to handle, but I still wanted to do something, so here it is. Was. :) Hope you liked it.
Author: stones_at_moons
Rating: pg-13
Word Count: 2, 257 words
Pairing: Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross
POV: 3rd person
Summary: There was nobody there to say, “Oh my God, Bren, is it possible for you to not stuff up a song once in a while?” and then stick a small post it with a smiley face on his bunk.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any characters. They belong to each other themselves. Title comes from “Hallelujah” by Jeff Buckley.
I just have to say that I support Panic! in their decision (I mean, come on, it didn’t exactly happen this year) and this fic does not suggest that they should get back together, or that i hate them because they split. :)
Beta: bookxbutterfly :DDDDDD -flails epically-
Author Notes: I wrote this in a couple of days, a couple of months ago, and now that I read over it, I realise that there are a lot of little cliché things that I vowed myself that I would avoid. But I really like this fic anyway, so I thought I’d share it with you guys :) Comment/Concrit is love.
When Ryan had announced that he and Jon were leaving, Brendon’s only thought had been, “I was never good enough.” (Of course, after the whole initial reaction of, “Really funny joke, guys... Um, wait - you are kidding, right?”)
After Brendon had been assured that it was just because of “musical differences,” he had been convinced that he, too, could go in a different direction.
First, the break-up shocked the world. The Young Veins were on their rise to fame, while Jon and Ryan’s ex-lead singer was selling CD’s and old records and instruments at some run down record shop.
Spencer stayed with him for a couple of months and they managed to squeeze out a single for a movie. But then Ryan had gone through another one of his mental break downs and, of course, Spencer flew to Chicago like the good little best friend he is; only to decide that his place was there, beside Ryan.
So Brendon was alone. Stuck in Las Vegas; somewhere that had once amazed him with bright lights and promises of good times, but now only held the promise of alcohol and cheap whores - both of which he stayed away from.
But Brendon hadn’t cared. Yeah, sure, when the headlines had come out with things like, ”Lead Singer of Band Panic! at the Disco Devastated by split, Doesn’t Know What Do To With Himself” and “Panic!’s Brendon Urie Heartbroken After Ryan Ross’ Departure,” he might have cried a little. But that was all in the past.
And he was… as content as he could have been. He was only 22; he could deal with being alone when his best friend Shane was off on some far-away project. And the record store was his home. Everyone treated him like an equal, and seemed to forget that he had enough money and contacts to buy the whole store if he wanted to.
But he didn’t sing anymore. Every time he opened his mouth… it just wasn’t right. There was nobody there to say, “Oh my God, Bren, is it possible for you to not stuff up a song once in a while?” and then stick a small post it with a smiley face on his bunk. When he opened his mouth, words came out, but this time, they were his own.
Of course, Pete had tried to call him, talk to him, connect with him in some way. But Brendon just… he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. Pete, Patrick, Gabe, William… they all had other lives to live; families, friends, band mates - some, even all three. And once people realised his being anti-social, they left him alone. He was forgotten quickly.
So Brendon opened up the shop, like he did every morning, and started to go through the CD’s, marking which band they seemed to be low on. He picked up the last The Beatles’ St. Peppers and frowned, as if in thought.
0.0
Ryan walked along a nearly-deserted road of Las Vegas, heading towards the shop people had said Brendon worked at. The shop itself was tatty and run down, but Ryan could see the beauty of the dusty walls and old posters. He looked through the window and his breath stopped. Standing right there, frowning at some CD, was Brendon, exactly the same but different in so many ways. He was much thinner, boarding on anorexic, Ryan thought with a small frown; and his hair was long and curled slightly at the back.
Ryan was about to enter when he saw a small tear run down Brendon’s pale cheeks. Ryan’s heart clenched as he turned and entered into the store with a quiet jingle. Brendon didn’t look up, just carried on looking at the case in his hand. Ryan’s frown dropped when he saw the St. Peppers lying in Brendon’s hand and oh. Right.
Brendon wiped his tears away and finally looked up, freezing when he saw Ryan approaching him hesitantly. The only evidence that Ryan had once been his Ryan were the two tattoos on his wrist. Otherwise, Ryan was nothing like Brendon imagined him to be. No make-up, no waistcoat... nothing.
“Ryan,” Brendon choked out, composing himself quickly. “What are you… how did you…”
“It’s not that easy to just disappear, Brendon,” Ryan scoffed, then sighed, observing the younger boy in front of him. “You were just… gone, B,” Brendon flinched at the nickname.
“Yeah, well, I figured that since I was alone, I might as well go all the way and be forgotten.” And really, it shouldn’t have been that satisfying to make Ryan look uncomfortable and sad, but Brendon couldn’t help it.
Ryan sighed. “The whole label misses you. We didn’t want you to disappear…” He hesitated. “I didn’t want you to disappear.” He looked at the ground solemnly.
If that was the best apology he could give, it just wasn’t good enough for Brendon.
Brendon looked down at the CD he was holding and his bottom lip trembled. “Don’t you just wish… that things could have been different?” Brendon hunched in on himself, but willed his eyes not to leak. Ryan faltered before nodding, and wrapped an arm around Brendon’s waist hesitantly.
Brendon felt Ryan’s hug and leaned in, smelling the vanilla and coffee fragrance that always clung to Ryan, as well as old cigarette smoke. Memories came flooding back - the good ones, not the ones with fighting, screaming, crying. The ones where they would huddle in their bunks, stealing kisses and listening to “Here Comes The Sun,” and “Hey Jude.”
“So, the whole label decided to fly out. They’re waiting back at an apartment Pete rented out,” Brendon stared at Ryan in disbelief, realizing people hadn’t forgotten about him like he thought they had.
“You mean… right here? In Las Vegas?”
“No, in Australia…” Ryan rolled his eyes, then chuckled. “Of course, here in Las Vegas, silly,” he added with a fond smile.
0.0
The car ride over to the apartment was silent, with fleeting glances and quiet shuffles, yet also thrumming with anticipation. When they arrived, Ryan took Brendon up the elevator until they were entering into a dark apartment. Ryan flicked on the lights and screams of, “Surprise!” was battering Brendon’s eardrums, and people were hugging the life out of him.
He looked over the label-mates he had missed so much, and willed himself not to cry. Instead, he grinned so wide you could almost see all of his teeth, and proceeded to talk to each and every person; asking them how they were and what was happening to their bands.
“Hey, Bren!” Pete jumped up onto the younger, but taller, boy’s back. Brendon’s knees wobbled with the weight; his own strength was nonexistent and Ryan chuckled as he watched them collapsed onto the ground. Ryan smiled when Brendon looked his way and mouthed a small, “thank you,” even though he wasn’t really the one who organised the thing - that was more of Spencer and Jon.
“Yo, Brendon! Why don’t you sing a song for us?” Gabe called from across the room. Brendon froze, smile slipping off his now-even-paler face.
“Uh… I don’t think…” Ryan frowned.
“Come on, Brendon. You used to sing all the time.”
Brendon shrugged helplessly.
“I… don’t… sing anymore.” The room fell silent, the air still with a sense of… Ryan didn’t even know what emotion filled the room. But he did know that nobody expected anything like that. No matter how Brendon changed - looks, places, whatever - everyone could count on the fact that he would still be singing Disney songs wherever he went. Brendon looked at his feet, hunched inwards a little. Pete looked like his dog had just died.
“But... why?” he finally managed to choke out. Brendon shrugged again.
“There’s just… no reason to anymore. For me.” And with that, Ryan marched up to Brendon and grabbed his arm, before pulling him into the kitchen.
“Brendon,” Ryan whispered. The younger boy turned, yanking his arm away, and started tracing the blue and white tiles on the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry,” Brendon said unexpectedly.
“Why?” Ryan demanded.
Brendon shrugged, starting to irritate the older boy, before replying. “I didn’t think you guys would care so much. I mean, you guys were the ones who left me. There wasn’t any reason to sing anymore.”
Suddenly, Ryan felt ashamed. He leaned over to where Brendon stood, and enveloped him into a hug. He breathed in the smell of coffee, sugar, and Brendon.
“No, Bren, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have made you feel like that.”
Brendon scoffed, finally letting a small bit of his anger out. “First you left, then Jon, and then you called Spencer, who you just know will do anything for you. And guess what, Ryan? When Keltie broke up with you 2 months after The Young Veins was formed, where was my phone call, hm?” Brendon sighed. “You never needed me, Ry. Only at the beginning, when you were to fucking scared to do it by yourself,” Brendon let out a hollow laugh. “But it was always about you, wasn’t it? Precious RyRy. Where was my comfort? When my parents kicked me out and I was forced to live in the same building as drug dealers and prostitutes, living off… well… you guys’ dinner leftovers, did anyone stop and ask how I was?” Brendon scoffed. “No, because poor Ryan was moaning over a couple of song lyric lines he just couldn’t get right.”
Brendon had tears streaming down his face, much like this morning. Again, he tried to compose himself, drying his eyes with the back of his hand and turning to face Ryan, who in turn was shaking, and wasn’t trying to dry his tears.
“I don’t blame you, Ryan,” he said softly, chocking back a sob. “I guess I just felt alone, and it got to me. But you’re successful now. You don’t need me,” Brendon laid his hands across his stomach, like a pregnant woman would do. It was only then Ryan noticed just how thin Brendon was. “No appetite,” Brendon clarified, observing as Ryan stared at his stomach.
Then, to Ryan’s surprise, Brendon walked over to where he was, wrapping an arm around Ryan’s neck and stroking his face with the other. “You must have known, Ry, that I had always been in love with you,” he looked straight into Ryan’s eyes, inwardly cringing at the fact that there was no dark stains of make-up paired with the tears, and that he made Ryan Ross cry.
Finally, Ryan opened his mouth, but he couldn’t force any words to come out. So instead, he leaned down and captured Brendon’s lips with his own damp ones, leaning forward until Brendon was pressed up against the counter. Hesitantly, he raised a hand and gently caressed the back of the boy’s neck, winding his fingers around the longer curls at the back. Brendon leaned into the kiss, licking the other’s bottom lip before prying his lips open and tasting the inside of his mouth. Then he realised what he was doing. He was making out with Ryan Ross.
With a push from Brendon, the boys separated. Ryan frowned and looked carefully at Brendon’s face, who was showing a mixture of anger and fear. “I… I can’t do this, Ryan. I can’t have you break my heart again.”
And with that he rushed into the spare bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Ryan stumbled into the now empty living room and sat on the couch, holding his head in his hands. What had made him kiss Brendon like that? He’d just broken up with his long term girlfriend… who he’s never really loved, Ryan now realised. Their whole two year relationship was based off the fact that Ryan didn’t want to face his feelings for Brendon. He… loved Brendon. Brendon had given him his heart all this time... and Ryan had just gone and trampled all over it.
Well, Ryan knew what to do now.
He gently pushed open the bedroom door to see Brendon huddled up on the bed, shaking. Slowly, watching the boy’s every move, Ryan climbed onto the bed, spooning Brendon, who didn’t protest against it, just whimpered. “I’m sorry, Bren. I didn’t realise it before but… I love you, too,” he whispered sincerely into his ear, like a secret proclamation. Brendon shivered. “And I promise, Brendon, that I will never, ever hurt you again. I just... never noticed anyone; never cared about anyone but myself,”
Brendon started moving and for a fleeting second Ryan thought he was moving away, until Brendon turned over ‘til their chests were pressed up against one another, lips centimetres apart.
“Don’t stop singing,” Ryan whispered. “Do whatever you want… just don’t stop singing.” Brendon smiled as Ryan ran a finger town his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Brendon. Your voice completes you.” Then he leaned in, pressing their lips together in a closed-mouthed, but meaningful, kiss. When they separated, Ryan looked into Brendon’s chocolate eyes and knew that everything would be… hard. Painful. Loving. Filled with sleepless nights and screams and crying.
But that was okay. They would be happy. So they lay there, smiling at one another without a word spoken to each other; until they fell asleep, still tangled up with one another.
0.0
In the morning, Ryan woke up alone. He stood up abruptly, worried; then stopped and grinned.
Brendon was singing “A Whole New World,” in the shower.
Ryan paused for a second, marvelling at the melodious sound, then went to join him.
A/N: So, I really suck at NOT rushing things, but some issues have been a little dificult to handle, but I still wanted to do something, so here it is. Was. :) Hope you liked it.