Sequel: Where Did You Go? ›
I Am Wrecking This Evening Already and Loving Every Minute of It
Who Could Ask for Anymore?
Ryan’s P.O.V.
“Aw, sorry for interrupting Ry” Brendon said.
I ignored him and went to my room. I lay down on the bed thinking about things, well actually thinking about Mara.
I don’t get why I feel like this towards her. She is just another girl. She is just another girl whose laugh makes me smile and smile gives me butterflies.
Damn Ryan you’ve got it bad.
“Ry” Spencer said coming into the room.
Oh, right, we shared the room.
“Yeah?” I asked not bothering to get up.
“Band practice” Spencer said, getting his drumsticks.
“Now?” I asked.
“Yep, let’s go” he said hitting my stomach with one us his drumsticks.
“Fine.” I said reluctantly and followed him downstairs to the media room.
Once we got there Brendon and was already by the mike talking to Pete. Brent was nowhere in sight.
He seriously has to get rid of his attitude or else.
I got my guitar and started tuning it while Spencer where to his spot behind the drums.
Brendon continued talking to Pete in low voices. I was too distracted to even try to eavesdrop.
“Do any of you know where Brent is?” Brendon asked me and Spencer.
“Sorry no” Spencer said.
“Nope” I said going back to tuning.
“Where is Brent?!?” Pete yelled obviously frustrated.
“He left to go out.” A female voice said from the stairs.
There was only one girl in this whole household.
“What time was that Mara?” Pete asked as she sat down on the couch.
“I don’t know…A long time ago. When you guys were chasing one another he walked out, remember?” She said getting her phone.
“He hasn’t come back yet? That was around 4 hours ago.” Spencer said leaving the drum set.
She shrugged and brought her attention to her phone.
“Fuck, where is he?” Pete said running a hand through his hair.
We all shrugged and took out our phones.
“I’ll call him.” Brendon said so I slid my phone back in my pocket.
Someone came stumbling in the room being held up by Joe and Andy.
Brent.
“Uh-oh my pocket is vibrating!” He said, his words slurred.
Not just Brent but a drunken Brent.
“What the fuck Brent?” I yelled, not really thinking about it.
“Hey Ry! I am not fucking anyone!” Brent said raising his arms up in the air hitting both Andy and Joe.
They both let go of him and he stumbled forward, Spencer and Brendon caught him.
“Are you drunk Brent?” Brendon asked him trying to get him to sit down.
“NO!” he yelled standing up making Brendon and Spencer’s effort all in vain.
“You sure?” Spencer asked watching him carefully.
“Yeah!” He said picking up his bass and turning on the amp.
“What song first?” his words still slurred.
I stared at him wondering if he was still capable of playing. I looked at Brendon and Spencer. They both shrugged and went to their places.
Andy, Joe and Pete all sat down with Mara on the couch awaiting our first song.
“Ok so we’re Panic! At the Disco and this is our song Time to Dance.” Brendon said into the mike.
With a nod we started playing the song. Brent was surprisingly playing really good.
Well, she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention
Cause that's just ridiculous...ly odd.
Well, she sure is going to get it
Here's the setting
Fashion magazines line the walls now
The walls line the bullet holes
Have some composure
And where is your posture?
Oh, no, no!
You're pulling the trigger
Pulling the trigger
All wrong
Have some composure
And where is your posture?
Oh, no, no!
You're pulling the trigger
Pulling the trigger
All wrong
Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention
Give me envy, give me malice, baby, give me a break!
When I say "Shotgun", you say "Wedding"
"Shotgun", "Wedding", "Shotgun", "Wedding"
She didn't choose this role
But she'll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry
(Give me a break)
But they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood
At her feet
Boys will be boys
Hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine dreams
(Give me a break)
Have some composure
And where is your posture?
Oh, no, no!
You're pulling the trigger
Pulling the trigger
All wrong
Have some composure
And where is your posture?
Oh, no, no!
You're pulling the trigger
Pulling the trigger
All wrong
Come on this is screaming "Photo op." op...
Come on
Come on
This is screaming
This is screaming
This is screaming "Photo op."
Boys will be boys, baby
Boys will be boys
Boys will be boys, baby
Boys will be boys
Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention
Give me envy, give me malice, baby, give me a break!
When I say "Shotgun", you say "Wedding"
"Shotgun", "Wedding", "Shotgun", "Wedding"
Boys will be boys
Hiding in estrogen and boys will be boys
Boys will be boys
Hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine dreams
I played my best focusing on my guitar and not the small group of people watching us. At the end of the song the group of 5, with Patrick who came down a while ago, burst into a round of applause and a smile played on my lips.
I saw the other guys smiling big goofy grins except for Brent who had a smile too but it looked…funny.
“This next song is Camisado.” Brendon said into the mike once again.
I took deep breath thinking about the song, thinking about whom the song was about, the one, the only, George Ross II, my father and his struggle against alcohol. I took another breath pushing away that stabbing feeling before starting to play.
The IV and your hospital bed,
This was no accident,
This was a therapeutic chain of events,
I looked up from my guitar to see Mara watching me with a smile on her face. I smiled back and the smile stayed there.
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor,
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital,
And it's not so pleasant. And it's not so conventional,
And it sure as hell ain't normal, but we deal, we deal,
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where,
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in,
No it's not so pleasant,
And it's not so conventional,
And it sure as hell ain't normal,
But we deal, we deal,
My eyes stayed on Mara the whole time as my fingers played the song perfectly.
Just sit back, just sit back,
Just sit back, and relax
Just sit back, just sit back
Just sit back, relapse, again
Can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can`t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back,
She looked at me, I looked at her smiles lingering on our mouths and nothing else mattered.
You`re a regular decorated emergency,
You`re a regular decorated emergency,
Heart rate picks up…
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor,
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital,
It's not so pleasant, And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal, but we deal, we deal,
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where,
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in,
It's not so pleasant, And it's not so conventional,
It sure as hell ain't normal, But we deal, we deal,
Gray eyes
Light brown hair
White teeth
Beautiful smile
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in
No it's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
And it sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
Sit back, sit back, relax, relapse
Sit back, sit –WHAT THE FUCK BRENT!?!
I abruptly stopped playing and broke eye contact with Mara who was looking at the same direction as I was. My eyes followed Brendon’s gaze to a puking Brent.
Oh hell…
“Aw, sorry for interrupting Ry” Brendon said.
I ignored him and went to my room. I lay down on the bed thinking about things, well actually thinking about Mara.
I don’t get why I feel like this towards her. She is just another girl. She is just another girl whose laugh makes me smile and smile gives me butterflies.
Damn Ryan you’ve got it bad.
“Ry” Spencer said coming into the room.
Oh, right, we shared the room.
“Yeah?” I asked not bothering to get up.
“Band practice” Spencer said, getting his drumsticks.
“Now?” I asked.
“Yep, let’s go” he said hitting my stomach with one us his drumsticks.
“Fine.” I said reluctantly and followed him downstairs to the media room.
Once we got there Brendon and was already by the mike talking to Pete. Brent was nowhere in sight.
He seriously has to get rid of his attitude or else.
I got my guitar and started tuning it while Spencer where to his spot behind the drums.
Brendon continued talking to Pete in low voices. I was too distracted to even try to eavesdrop.
“Do any of you know where Brent is?” Brendon asked me and Spencer.
“Sorry no” Spencer said.
“Nope” I said going back to tuning.
“Where is Brent?!?” Pete yelled obviously frustrated.
“He left to go out.” A female voice said from the stairs.
There was only one girl in this whole household.
“What time was that Mara?” Pete asked as she sat down on the couch.
“I don’t know…A long time ago. When you guys were chasing one another he walked out, remember?” She said getting her phone.
“He hasn’t come back yet? That was around 4 hours ago.” Spencer said leaving the drum set.
She shrugged and brought her attention to her phone.
“Fuck, where is he?” Pete said running a hand through his hair.
We all shrugged and took out our phones.
“I’ll call him.” Brendon said so I slid my phone back in my pocket.
Someone came stumbling in the room being held up by Joe and Andy.
Brent.
“Uh-oh my pocket is vibrating!” He said, his words slurred.
Not just Brent but a drunken Brent.
“What the fuck Brent?” I yelled, not really thinking about it.
“Hey Ry! I am not fucking anyone!” Brent said raising his arms up in the air hitting both Andy and Joe.
They both let go of him and he stumbled forward, Spencer and Brendon caught him.
“Are you drunk Brent?” Brendon asked him trying to get him to sit down.
“NO!” he yelled standing up making Brendon and Spencer’s effort all in vain.
“You sure?” Spencer asked watching him carefully.
“Yeah!” He said picking up his bass and turning on the amp.
“What song first?” his words still slurred.
I stared at him wondering if he was still capable of playing. I looked at Brendon and Spencer. They both shrugged and went to their places.
Andy, Joe and Pete all sat down with Mara on the couch awaiting our first song.
“Ok so we’re Panic! At the Disco and this is our song Time to Dance.” Brendon said into the mike.
With a nod we started playing the song. Brent was surprisingly playing really good.
Well, she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention
Cause that's just ridiculous...ly odd.
Well, she sure is going to get it
Here's the setting
Fashion magazines line the walls now
The walls line the bullet holes
Have some composure
And where is your posture?
Oh, no, no!
You're pulling the trigger
Pulling the trigger
All wrong
Have some composure
And where is your posture?
Oh, no, no!
You're pulling the trigger
Pulling the trigger
All wrong
Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention
Give me envy, give me malice, baby, give me a break!
When I say "Shotgun", you say "Wedding"
"Shotgun", "Wedding", "Shotgun", "Wedding"
She didn't choose this role
But she'll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry
(Give me a break)
But they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood
At her feet
Boys will be boys
Hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine dreams
(Give me a break)
Have some composure
And where is your posture?
Oh, no, no!
You're pulling the trigger
Pulling the trigger
All wrong
Have some composure
And where is your posture?
Oh, no, no!
You're pulling the trigger
Pulling the trigger
All wrong
Come on this is screaming "Photo op." op...
Come on
Come on
This is screaming
This is screaming
This is screaming "Photo op."
Boys will be boys, baby
Boys will be boys
Boys will be boys, baby
Boys will be boys
Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention
Give me envy, give me malice, baby, give me a break!
When I say "Shotgun", you say "Wedding"
"Shotgun", "Wedding", "Shotgun", "Wedding"
Boys will be boys
Hiding in estrogen and boys will be boys
Boys will be boys
Hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine dreams
I played my best focusing on my guitar and not the small group of people watching us. At the end of the song the group of 5, with Patrick who came down a while ago, burst into a round of applause and a smile played on my lips.
I saw the other guys smiling big goofy grins except for Brent who had a smile too but it looked…funny.
“This next song is Camisado.” Brendon said into the mike once again.
I took deep breath thinking about the song, thinking about whom the song was about, the one, the only, George Ross II, my father and his struggle against alcohol. I took another breath pushing away that stabbing feeling before starting to play.
The IV and your hospital bed,
This was no accident,
This was a therapeutic chain of events,
I looked up from my guitar to see Mara watching me with a smile on her face. I smiled back and the smile stayed there.
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor,
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital,
And it's not so pleasant. And it's not so conventional,
And it sure as hell ain't normal, but we deal, we deal,
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where,
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in,
No it's not so pleasant,
And it's not so conventional,
And it sure as hell ain't normal,
But we deal, we deal,
My eyes stayed on Mara the whole time as my fingers played the song perfectly.
Just sit back, just sit back,
Just sit back, and relax
Just sit back, just sit back
Just sit back, relapse, again
Can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can`t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back,
She looked at me, I looked at her smiles lingering on our mouths and nothing else mattered.
You`re a regular decorated emergency,
You`re a regular decorated emergency,
Heart rate picks up…
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor,
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital,
It's not so pleasant, And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal, but we deal, we deal,
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where,
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in,
It's not so pleasant, And it's not so conventional,
It sure as hell ain't normal, But we deal, we deal,
Gray eyes
Light brown hair
White teeth
Beautiful smile
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in
No it's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
And it sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
Sit back, sit back, relax, relapse
Sit back, sit –WHAT THE FUCK BRENT!?!
I abruptly stopped playing and broke eye contact with Mara who was looking at the same direction as I was. My eyes followed Brendon’s gaze to a puking Brent.
Oh hell…
♠ ♠ ♠
Hey you guys! Hope you like the update! :) Just so you know this is my last update for this story for 08! I am so sorry! but I am going to be gone and be away from the computer and stuff. :) but I'll try to update as soon as possible 09! :Dplease comment too! :)
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!