Thinking of You

-----------
Comparisons are easily done,
Once you've had a taste of perfection.
Like an apple hanging from a tree,
I picked the ripest one, I still got the seed.
-----------

Lana stares out the diner window, trying to seem enthused into eating with her boyfriend, David, of three months. She tries not to dwell on the fact that everything about him reminds her of the boy that left her behind, so that he could pursue his dream without any strings attached.

Being with him, Lana knows, is just to fill in the gaping hole in her chest when she realizes she can't have him back in her life, not matter how much she tries to believe that he'll be back into her life before she knows it.

"What are you thinking about?"

Lana snaps her attention back to the man in front of her and forces out a smile. "Nothing. Just school's been keeping my mind busy."

David grins and grabs her hand from across the table, running his thumb over her knuckles. "You want to talk about it?"

"No, I'm good. There's nothing to talk about--"

The man scoffs and leans back against the plush seat.

Noticing his irritation, Lana goes to grab his hand back and plays with his fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar. "How about you tell about the new photography classes you're taking?"

"They're pretty fun," David says and sighs, before smiling softly and kissing the inside of Lana's wrist. "I have some prints that I need to process if you want to help me with them?"

"I--"

Lana stops herself and thinks about how he used to ask her to help him process the shots they photographed together. About the many hours they spent in the dark room with roll upon roll of photographs. Or how they would spend an entire day walking around Chicago just to get the perfect shot, spending every second together in pure happiness.

"Lana?"

The said girl looks up at David, who was waiting with his eyebrows raised, disappearing under his brown, shaggy hair. "I wouldn't be much help. I don't really know how," she lies, smoothly.

"It's not so hard," he says happily and raises his hand for the check. "Let's head back to my place and I'll show you."

Lana tries to frown that her attempt to get out of it clearly did not work.

----------
You said move on, where do I go?
I guess second best is all I will know.
-----------

He's been acting weirder, distant, lately and Lana notices it silently when they sit together on the couch at William's apartment. Lana tries to fit herself into his side, like she always does, and feels her body fold in on itself when he gets up and walks to the other side of the room. Her entire being just shuts down when she watches him talk quietly with Tommy, not even shooting her one glance.

Next Lana, Mike sits himself down and gives her a smile. "Why so glum?"

"Has Jon been acting different around you guys lately?" she asks him, completely avoiding the question. "I mean, has he been weird at all?"

"Hm. Not that I've really noticed. He hasn't hung around much. This is the first time we've seen him in a few weeks. I've heard he's been hanging around Wentz, lately. And those Panic boys. Who knows why. Did you try talking to him?"

"Try?" Lana laughs almost hysterically. "Believe me, I've tried. But he would just smile and change the fucking subject. Telling me that he's fine and that I have nothing to worry about. Right."

"Well, he's heading out to the balcony," Mike nods towards the sound of the sliding door. "There's you chance to talk to him."

"Talking to him lately is like talking to a wall."

"Good luck."

Lana gives him one last look before getting up and heading towards the doors. Reaching for the metal handle, she pauses and looks Jon over. He was leaning against the railing with his back towards the party, seemingly watching the busy street below. Feeling like somewhat of a creep for watching closely, Lana breathes in deep and let's it out slowly, stepping out into the chilly Chicago night.

"Jon?"

The said man turns slightly to Lana, but as soon as he does, he goes back to his previous stance. "Hey," he says to the city below.

Lana shuffles over to him and places her elbows on the railing, looking at Jon with cautious eyes. "Is everything okay? Have I done something to you? If I did, this isn't a way for us to get through it. Not when you're ignoring me, Jon."

He mumbles something under his breath and takes a sip of his beer.

"What was that?"

"I said: you didn't do anything wrong."

Lana groans and grabs his face in her soft palms, so that she can see his face more clearly. "Then why are you acting like this. You're scaring me."

Jon was silent, avoiding her eyes and looking up at the barely-there stars in the sky. Lana's eyes searched his for any answers and only finding them sad and guarded.
"Jonathan."

"I--" he stops and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly. "I'm leaving. Tomorrow."

"Leaving? Where are you going?"

Jon bites his lip and grabs Lana's hands, pushing them gently away from his face. "Remember the band the Academy just toured with? Panic at the Disco?"

"Yeah, the young ones that always needed us to fix their guitars. What does this have to do with you leaving? You're not their tech or anything."

"They, uh-- They had a falling out with their bassist, Brent-- remember him? Well, if you also remember, I subbed for him for a couple of shows because it was the end of the tour. And now, well, now they kicked him out of the band and they wanted to know ifI of all people would like to play with them. Permanently."

"But-- But, they're stationed in Las Vegas--"

Then it dawns on her.

The avoiding. The distance Jon is putting between them. Mike saying that Jon's been hanging around Pete lately. Pete was Panic's friend and boss. He held all the legal business in that band. From suing to band member falling outs.

"You can't."

"Lana, this is once in a lifetime thing happening there. I can't pass this up--"

"But you can throw away four years of our relationship for some fucking band?"

"Please, don't be like this. This is my dream. My dream isn't staying here Chicago, working at a dingy Starbucks and tuning guitars for the rest of my life. I, now, get to see the world while playingmusic, Lana. You have to understand."

Lana shakes her head and tries not to let the tears escape her eyes. "I can't. What, music comes before me? It doesn't work like that."

"Maybe this is the point we needed to reach for us to realize we're not meant to be together. Not if you can't handle me going off to do what I've always loved to do."

"So, this is it, huh? We're over?"

"I-- I guess so."

Shaking her head, Lana pushes Jon away from her and head back inside to grab her coat, leaving the party and Jon and his dream behind.

----------
Cause when I'm with him, I am thinking of you.
(Thinking of you, thinking of you)
Thinking of you, what you would do
If you were the one who was spending the night.
(Spending the night, spending the night)
Oh, I wish that I was looking into your eyes.
----------

Lana wakes up the next morning with the memory still burning behind her eyelids; the memory of her leaving Jon outside on the balcony, hoping that he would come running after her.

But he never did.

Instead, she finds out the day after them breaking up, Jon had left to Vegas without a word to anyone and Lana had to tell all their friends exactly where he went as she tried to keep the tears from facing down her face. She remembers the bone-crushing hugs that the boys had given her and the half-ass attempts to make her feel better with threats against Jon.

But, to this day, she knows that they are all still great friends.

Movement to the left of her breaks her from her thoughts and she looks over in time to see David stretch lazily and yawn. He glances at her and smiles, throwing an arm around her middle and pulling her towards him.

Lana can't help but to think of the way Jon would hold her when they would wake up next to each other, or how he would wake her up some mornings with breakfast already made.

"Morning, baby," David mutters into her hair and kisses her forehead.

“Morning.”

“Do you have classes this morning?”

Lana shakes her head and stares up at the ceiling, noting the small cracks that run almost invisible through the white paint. “No, but I have some running to do. Pick up a few things. Do you?”

“M’yeah,” David grunts and peppers kisses from her temple to her neck. “What time is it now?”

Rolling away from him, Lana glances at the alarm clock beside her bed and watches the numbers change. “Seven fifty-seven.”

David blinks up at her and Lana has to swallow down the remark of how his eyes remind her so much of Jon’s. How they’re warm and kind, holding love in them that Lana can’t seem to give back, because he wasn’t Jon, no matter how hard she tried to believe that he was.

“I guess I should take a shower. Do I have clean clothes here? Or do I have to stop back at my apartment?”

“Bottom drawer of my dresser.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Lana tries not to cringe when David kissing her softly on the lips before he gets up, shedding his shirt on his why to the bathroom. When the door closes and the sound of the shower starts up, she rolls over to her side and sits up, opening the bedside drawer. She moves the useless junk away and gazes down at the bottom, where a black and white photograph lays before her eyes.

It was from a year ago, back when The Academy Is…¦ was on tour in Europe, when Lana and Jon were teching for them and were along for the ride. She and Jon were standing in front of the tour bus with grins on their faces, holding each other in the bulky coats they had to wear in chilly weather.

Lana sniffs and wipes the wetness away from her eyes and shuts the drawer, trying find the motivation to start the day.

----------
You're like an Indian summer
In the middle of a winter
Like a hard candy
With a surprise center.
----------

“Get back here!“ Jon yells and runs after her, through the parking lot of the venue.

Lana laughs and dodges one of the roadies in her way. She glances behind herself to see Jon gaining ground behind her. Screaming, she runs between the tour buses, only realizes she’s reached a dead end.

“You’re not so smart.”

Lana laughs and squeals when Jon picks her up, pinning her against the cold metal of the bus. She wraps her arms around his neck and giggles when he blows a raspberry against her cheek.

“I am smart,” she defends. “I just didn’t know that the space between the buses had boxes between them. So what.”

“Again, I say, you’re not so smart.”

Lana waves her hand dismissively. “Whatever, Jonny. You love me anyway.”

“That I do.”

Jon crashed his lips against hers and Lana finds herself melting into his touch. She runs her fingers through his curling hair and sighs into his parting mouth. In return, Jon squeezes her hip lightly and hums against her lips.

“Remind again why I was chasing you.”

Lana rubs her palm against his smooth cheek and shrugs. “I stole your coffee. Apparently, that started up the mile long race through the venue that ended here.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t steal my coffee. It’s like my crack.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t horde it all and make me some. Then I won’t feel the need to steal yours. But, hey, we got a work out out of it.”

Jon scoffs playfully and lets Lana drop gently to the grounds. “I don’t need to work out. Look at these guns--“ he flexes the muscles in his arms. “I can a right to bare arms.”

Snorting, Lana pushes him, making him hit the other bus parked in front of the other. “And I guess I got a ticket to the gun show?”

Jon just winks and wiggles his eyebrows. “And other shows.

“Stop perving on me. I’ll get Sisky on you.”

“He’s a twig. There’s only so much he could do to hurt me.”

“You said that about Billy, and remember how he beat you down that one time.”

Rolling his eyes, Jon sticks out his tongue. “First of all, I was drunk. And second, when I’m drunk I’m not as strong as I usually am.”

“Uh huh,” Lana jokes and starts backing out of the small space, and into the parking lot. “You keep believing the lie.”

Jon glowers and starts walking after her. “You have a three second head start. I’d start running now.”

Lana squeaks and jets across the parking lot with Jon on her heels.

This is exactly where she wants to be for the rest of her life.

----------
How do I get better
Once I've had the best
You said there's
Tons of fish in the water
So the water's I will test.
----------

Lana sips her coffee dismissively at the kitchen table as she runs her fingers over the groves in the wood. The cup in scalding hot in her hands, but she can’t seem to find a reason to care. She tries to forget the memories that keep haunting her, now so suddenly since she hasn’t thought so much about him.

The note is laying on the floor in front of her as she cries silently, to herself and the empty apartment. She found it in the drawer that always kept Jon’s overnight clothes. It was folded by itself, the drawer was most likely emptied when she wasn’t home and Jon had most likely let himself in.

She picks it up again and reads it over;

Lana,
I wasn’t sure if you were going to find this. But I thought it would be a good idea to leave it for you, letting myself explain since I didn’t catch you before I left. You know how much I love you and how much I love music. I didn’t want to choose, but you kind of already did that for yourself. I know you can’t see me as I write this, but you don’t know how badly this is tearing me up. You’re my everything, Lana, but I want to try this music thing out. You know how happy I am when I’m playing. Remember how devastated I was when 504 Plan broke up and how I tried to form another band, and I wasn’t successful? Now a well known band wants me, of all people, Lana, to play for them.
I’m not going to be gone forever.

But as they say, there’s other fish in the sea. See if you can find one that’s better then me.
- Jonny.

David makes his way into the kitchen in a pair of baggy jeans and shirt, rubbing a towel through his wet hair. “Did you make anymore coffee?”

“Yeah,” Lana whispers. “It’s in the pot. You know where everything is. I forget how to make your coffee.”

Shooting her a curious look, David grabs a mug and pours himself a cup. “I like it black. How hard is that to remember?”

Lana shrugs her shoulders and pulls her knees to her chest.

“Alright,” David mutters and pours the rest of the dark liquid down the sink. “I have work after my classes. I’ll see you afterwards?”

“Sure.”

David sighs and bends down to kiss Lana on her forehead, before heading over to the front door of her apartment. “Love you.”

Lana winces and looks away, towards the stove. “I know.”

The door slams shut and Lana feels like a complete failure.

----------
He kissed my lips
I taste your mouth
He pulled me in
I was disgusted with myself
----------

How she ended up like this was beyond her.

“You’re so beautiful, Lana,” David mutters into her neck as he sucked bruises into the soft skin.

Lana just closes her eyes and pretends that this isn’t happening, not now. She doesn’t want to feel bad that it’s not David she’s imaging behind her eyelids, but Jon’s smiling faces and his ghost whispers. She doesn’t want to slip up and say his name and not David’s, so instead she keeps her mouth shut and tries to shut her mind off.

David’s hands travel slowly underneath her shirt. “Love you, so much.”

Swallowing down a sob, Lana nods her head and grabs the sides of his head and kisses him harshly, picturing it was Jon’s slightly chapped lips moving against her own.

Her shirt is thrown across the room and she has to keep her eyes squeezed shut, so the hot tears don’t fall down her flushed cheeks.

-----------
You're the best and yes I do regret
How I could let myself let you go
Now the lesson's learned
I touched it I was burned
Oh, I think you should know.
-----------

The Chicago wind whips by her and Lana huddles herself more into her sweat shirt. She walks slowly down the brick path in the park, hoping that the fresh air will clear her mind.

But it was no use.

Everywhere she looks, couples crowd the grass by the lake, making her keep her eyes downcast most of the time. She spots a bench and falls down onto it, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on her worn jeans. Her fingers touch the phone that’s shoved in her front pocket. Pulling it out, she glances down at the dim screen and sighs, scrolling through her contacts.

Jon’s name jumps out to her.

And she knows she shouldn’t, but she finds herself typing out a message to him.

how’s tour going?

She knows she shouldn’t expect a reply back, so she sets the phone down beside her and gazes at the lake through the fringe of her bangs. Ducks squawk loudly and circle the waters, distracting Lana with their colors and sounds. So intrigued with the birds, she doesn’t notice her phone buzzing by her hand until it let’s out a chime.

its going good, the text reads. a bit repetitive. what are u doing?

Lana, still in shock that he actually replied, just stares at the screen then types back fast.

sitting in the park, watching the ducks. She pauses and closes her eyes for a moment before continuing. i miss you. a lot.

i miss the fuck out of u 2.

coming home soon?

soon.

Lana sighs and places the phone back down on the wood of the bench. She rests her cheek against her knee and picks at the loose threads of her jeans, thinking of all the possibilities that will occur when he’s back in town.

Her phone buzzes again and she looks down to see a name pop up on the screen, along with the chime of someone calling.

But it’s not the name she hopes it would be.

“Hey, David,” Lana says and watches the ducks fly away.

----------
Oh won't you walk through
And bust in the door
And take me away
Oh no more mistakes
Cause in your eyes I'd like to stay…
----------

Lana flips absentmindedly through the channels on the television, her eyes drooping from lack of sleep. Nothing seems to catch her attention, so she settles on an old episode of Antiques Road Show. The older woman that seems so excited that her old collection of beer mugs are worth over fifteen thousand, making Lana shake her head in amusement and wonder if someone would actually buy them for that price.

She yawns loudly and finds herself falling slowly to her side, pillowing her head on the arm rest of the couch. She knows she should wonder why David hasn’t called to come over, but Lana can’t find a care in the world about his absence.
More time by herself, she concludes.

Before she knows it, she’s dosing off to the sound of elderly people and price amounts.

Suddenly, Lana hears commotion coming from the front of her apartment. She grits her teeth and tries thinking up an excuse for David for why he can’t spend the night. Faking a cough, Lana hopes that lying about being sick would fiend him off for at least one night. When there’s no reply to her booming coughing, she raises an eyebrow and pushes herself up in a huff.

She walks slowly down the corridor, her fingers running along the smooth walls, catching the small paint bubbles that she didn’t care to fix when she first painted the walls.

Her eyes land on a figure standing in the doorway, being there was no light, she couldn’t tell exactly who it was and she felt a stab fear flow through her. Beside her better judgment, Lana walks cautiously over to the figure and stops fully when she recognizes the face.

“Jon?” she says in disbelief.

He doesn’t say a word, but drops his bag to the ground and rushes over to Lana, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “I made the biggest mistake in my life. I’m so sorry.”

Lana just stands there with her arms by her sides, mouth opening and closing; no words coming out of her mouth.

But Jon doesn’t care, his own words come out in a rush. “The whole time all I could think about was you and how I can’t not have you in my life. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Lana. I was a wreck and I needed to see you. You probably still hate me so much. But when you texted me, it felt like you still cared about me because I never stopped caring about you.”

“I--” Lana stops and breathes in the scent of his cologne. “I never stopped thinking about you. I tried to move on but-- Jon. You came back. I never thought you were going to come back.”

“You were never the smart one.”

Lana laughs, this time it isn’t forced like it has been over the past few months, and wraps her arms around his neck, holding onto him for dear-life, letting tears of relief run down her cheeks. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

“I’m fucking stupid for letting you walking away at the party. I’m so sorry.”

Pulling back slightly, Lana looks up into Jon’s worn out eyes and sighs loudly. “Stop saying sorry. As long as you’re here to stay this time.”

Jon rests his forehead against hers. “Wherever I go, you go, too.”

And Lana thinks that just might be the best thing she’s heard in the longest time.