‹ Prequel: Sick and Sain
Sick Boy
Chapter 10
“What the fuck? Gerard Way’s really gay?”
**
“Oh. My. God. I swear to god, if these are real—I am going to kill myself.”
**
“Please tell me that’s Photoshopped? Ew! Gross!”
**
“Holy fucking shit. That is sex right there. I am telling you, RyRy totally does not have pants on.”
**
The news was out. The news was out and the Internet was alive and at war. It wasn’t that people were…mad, per se. It was that there were two fandoms being touched here. Panic! At the Disco and My Chemical Romance. P!ATD fans weren’t as dark, not as used to their idols kissing boys for real. MCR fans were jaded, bored, the new Gerbert is Ryrard. And everyone in between was just pure shocked. What the fuck did Ryan Ross and Gerard Way have in common? The Panic fans were surpised, the MCRmy was pissed. Not at Gerard, but at the Panic fans. God. I mean…seriously. Just ‘cause it’s not Photoshopped doesn’t mean you have a reason to freak the fuck out. Fuck, doesn’t Brendon like…shower with dudes sometimes? Oh not naked? Oh sorry. God. Get used to it.
Ryan, via Spencer’s phone, received a call at three AM from Gerard. A panicked peace offering of “Look I’m sorry I was stupid—but seriously Ry, what are we gonna do?”
“Get drunk and laugh it off,” Ryan suggested dryly. Oh shit. Not the right suggestion.
“Ryan…you drink too much.”
“Gerard, I was joking for God’s sake!”
“No, seriously Ryan.”
“Gee, can we do this later?”
“Well…”
“Please? We have do to something!”
Gerard sighed. The stupid controversy would remain for the time being then. “Yeah. What?”
“We’re in New York next week. And we have a TRL spot or something.”
“What do you propose we do?”
“Confirm shit.”
“Oh damn that’ll be awkward. Ry, my parents don’t even know.”
“Gee, neither do mine.”
“Ry, you never talk to them. And one’s dead.”
“Gerard don’t start.” It wasn’t something Ryan liked to talk about—his parents. Especially his dad. Because whether or not they had been close, it still hurt. His dad was dead for God’s sake. Dead! Fucking dead. Forever.
“Okay. I’m sorry. But seriously Ryan, I don’t really want to have to do this…on one of the most watched shows on TV.”
“Well we need to Gee. Put it up on your website, that you’ll be there with us. I mean…we need to do this.”
“Ryan…I—please don’t make me!”
“God, Gerard, what’s wrong with you? You’re usually outgoing.”
“Ryan don’t be stupid. I hate confrontations.”
“Live with it Gee.”
“Fine.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I have to go—we’re on in two minutes and I’m still shirtless.”
“Hot.”
“Yes I know. And thank you for the Sidekick—the color is just gorgeous.”
“I knew you liked pink.”
“Oh shut up.”
“I love you.” Oh dear God Gee, why are you so scared to say this?
“Yeah. Same.”
“Bye, Sick Boy.”
“Mkay, bye.”
And so Gerard and Ryan were in no way resolved. But they were confirming a relationship. A relationship that had in no way been confirmed between the two of them yet. But do it for the fans boys, for the fangirls who are going to write a billion stories on the Internet. For Ryrard. Because you’ve already been named that. It took those fans—those girls—two hours at most. Well boys? Are we going to survive this?
Who knows?
**
“Oh. My. God. I swear to god, if these are real—I am going to kill myself.”
**
“Please tell me that’s Photoshopped? Ew! Gross!”
**
“Holy fucking shit. That is sex right there. I am telling you, RyRy totally does not have pants on.”
**
The news was out. The news was out and the Internet was alive and at war. It wasn’t that people were…mad, per se. It was that there were two fandoms being touched here. Panic! At the Disco and My Chemical Romance. P!ATD fans weren’t as dark, not as used to their idols kissing boys for real. MCR fans were jaded, bored, the new Gerbert is Ryrard. And everyone in between was just pure shocked. What the fuck did Ryan Ross and Gerard Way have in common? The Panic fans were surpised, the MCRmy was pissed. Not at Gerard, but at the Panic fans. God. I mean…seriously. Just ‘cause it’s not Photoshopped doesn’t mean you have a reason to freak the fuck out. Fuck, doesn’t Brendon like…shower with dudes sometimes? Oh not naked? Oh sorry. God. Get used to it.
Ryan, via Spencer’s phone, received a call at three AM from Gerard. A panicked peace offering of “Look I’m sorry I was stupid—but seriously Ry, what are we gonna do?”
“Get drunk and laugh it off,” Ryan suggested dryly. Oh shit. Not the right suggestion.
“Ryan…you drink too much.”
“Gerard, I was joking for God’s sake!”
“No, seriously Ryan.”
“Gee, can we do this later?”
“Well…”
“Please? We have do to something!”
Gerard sighed. The stupid controversy would remain for the time being then. “Yeah. What?”
“We’re in New York next week. And we have a TRL spot or something.”
“What do you propose we do?”
“Confirm shit.”
“Oh damn that’ll be awkward. Ry, my parents don’t even know.”
“Gee, neither do mine.”
“Ry, you never talk to them. And one’s dead.”
“Gerard don’t start.” It wasn’t something Ryan liked to talk about—his parents. Especially his dad. Because whether or not they had been close, it still hurt. His dad was dead for God’s sake. Dead! Fucking dead. Forever.
“Okay. I’m sorry. But seriously Ryan, I don’t really want to have to do this…on one of the most watched shows on TV.”
“Well we need to Gee. Put it up on your website, that you’ll be there with us. I mean…we need to do this.”
“Ryan…I—please don’t make me!”
“God, Gerard, what’s wrong with you? You’re usually outgoing.”
“Ryan don’t be stupid. I hate confrontations.”
“Live with it Gee.”
“Fine.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I have to go—we’re on in two minutes and I’m still shirtless.”
“Hot.”
“Yes I know. And thank you for the Sidekick—the color is just gorgeous.”
“I knew you liked pink.”
“Oh shut up.”
“I love you.” Oh dear God Gee, why are you so scared to say this?
“Yeah. Same.”
“Bye, Sick Boy.”
“Mkay, bye.”
And so Gerard and Ryan were in no way resolved. But they were confirming a relationship. A relationship that had in no way been confirmed between the two of them yet. But do it for the fans boys, for the fangirls who are going to write a billion stories on the Internet. For Ryrard. Because you’ve already been named that. It took those fans—those girls—two hours at most. Well boys? Are we going to survive this?
Who knows?