The Young and Lost Club

I find that I spend a lot of time lying to myself.
I tried to convince myself that I didn’t like people all that much. I told myself my anger was because of this. I told myself I didn’t like compliments because I believed they were empty words used to try and gain points. I told myself I was arrogant, that I didn’t believe in mistakes. I told myself I was done with love, relationships, with everyone except my friends.
I maintained that outlook for a long time. I turned hurt into lessons, I spun mistakes into adventures. It worked for me for a long time. Every boyfriend who broke my heart made me stronger. Every time I was rejected I became cockier. I was headstrong and bold, I was a bitch and I got my way.
It really wasn’t until I met Brendon Urie that I realized every little thing I told myself was a lie. At first, it was okay, because I had him by me. I had him there to be my other half, to fix my insecurities, to give me hope, faith, love, support: my own personal savior.
It was, therefore, only expected that I crashed as hard as I did.
Brendon didn’t just destroy my faith in everything.
He destroyed me.
***

After I left Alex, I sat in my car and sobbed for a solid hour. I had places to be and things to do, but I felt too numb to make any sort of logical connections. The band was finishing up recording this week, and last night had been my last free night.
And I spent it fucking Alex Goddamn Gaskarth.
I felt wrong and I felt like a whore. Even though Brendon and I were no longer together, I still felt like I had cheated on him somehow. Like I had been unfaithful somehow. Brendon was no longer mine, and yet I felt like I was going to be shackled to the image of what might have been for the rest of my life.
So, here I was, crying my eyes out outside a club in downtown Baltimore, wearing Alex’s clothing, smelling like sex, a recording session to be at in less than an hour, and I couldn’t move. My older brother and lead singer of my band, Max, had been concerned about me lately. I hadn’t been eating, I hadn’t been sleeping. I was stressed about our first album, worried what critics would say, wondering if this was our one big chance and we were fucking it up song by song. I was becoming too involved with the whole thing, doubting every note and every word. But most of all I was stressed because after our album was released, we would be going on tour.
And this meant that in less than two months, I was going to be living with Brendon for about half a year.

After crying, I felt so exhausted that all I wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. I had become a full blown insomniac after…well, after that, and sleep had suddenly become a luxury I could no longer afford. I was trapped in a nightmare, and sometimes reality and dreams became so intertwined I couldn’t distinguish one from the other. I wished that I could wake up and everything would be back to normal. The funny thing was, was that I couldn’t decide if normal was Brendon and I being together, or if normal was back before I knew of his existence.
And then, suddenly, I knew exactly who I needed. I blamed my wacked out thought process for not thinking about Ryan before.
Despite the fall out, Ryan, along with Spencer and Jon, had faithfully remained in contact with me. I had always liked Ryan. We had gotten along well, and we had very similar views and thoughts on music, on television, on life, on politics. The last time I spoke to Brendon, I called Ryan, and he talked to me until I was calm enough to sleep (a whopping 4 hours later), and when I woke up, he called to say he was on his way to see me from L.A; he was on my doorstep by lunch time.
I picked up my phone and quickly called him, feeling calmer already.
He picked up after the third ring. “Hello?”
“Ryan?” There was noise in the background, making it difficult to hear. I had forgotten the time difference from Maryland to L.A and realized it must have been fairly early for him, he was probably out to breakfast.
“What’s wrong?” He asked instantly. Ryan had a freaky way of knowing if I was upset or not. Even though I had just said his name, his entire tone shifted from cheerful to immediate concern.
“Nothing,” I lied. I could practically hear him frown through the phone.
“Listen, I’m out to breakfast with the guys,” My heart started pounding, knowing Brendon was obviously close to him. Touching distance most likely, so close, and yet so, so far. “I just have to pay, and I’ll call you right back.”
“No, Ryan, really, just enjoy yourself. I’ll call you later.” I backtracked, trying to sound like everything was fine and dandy.
“Two minutes.” He insisted and hung up.
I barely had time to wallow before he had called me back, and without so much as a hello, he continued where we left off, “Clark, what happened? You sound awful.”
“I’m sorry I ruined your breakfast.” I mumbled. Ryan was the best of friends: he always put everyone else before himself, and it made me feel guilty for piling on shit for him on a regular basis. I knew it must have been hard for him, with his best friend being Brendon, while still being friends with me, but he never once complained, never once took a side.
“Brendon and Spencer are leaving for Vegas tonight,” Ryan explained. I tried not to wince at his name. “But we had finished eating, and they’re coming to my house tonight for a going away party. You didn’t ruin anything.”
“Oh,” I said, quietly. I was running my hand around the steering wheel. Ryan didn’t say anything; I knew he was waiting for me to come out with whatever it was I had done, and I appreciated he wasn’t trying to push me. “I slept with Alex.” I blurted. The tears started bubbling down my face again.
“Gaskarth?” Ryan questioned.
“Yes,” I cried, hitting my head on the steering wheel repeatedly.
“You and Alex have always gotten along, I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Ryan said gently.
“Then why do I feel like a slut?” I said. I was full on sobbing again, and I doubted Ryan could even make sense of my words anymore.
“Oh Clark,” He said sadly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, it was probably good for you to be with someone else-“
“The entire time, I was thinking about him” I said. “That’s not normal Ryan! Why can’t I just move on? I’m sure he has!”
“That’s something you’ll have to ask him yourself,” Ryan said lightly. It was his way of not becoming involved or picking sides. He refused to tell me anything outside the basics of Brendon’s life. It was better that way, but it still drove me crazy. “Look, I have an idea.”
“Yeah?” I said, my voice cracking horribly.
“First, you need to go home, get something to eat, and sleep. Max told me you haven’t been doing either-“
“Tattletale.” I grumbled making a note to yell at my older brother later.
“I’ll call him if you want and let him know you can’t make it to recording, I’m sure they will live. And then, after you all finish up on Friday, you should come and spend the week with me.”
“Oh Ry, I don’t know-“
“I’m buying your ticket. That’s non-negotiable.” He said continuing right over me. “This will be good for you, Clark, you know that. You need to stop stressing so much.”
“Oh yes, because I have nothing to worry about.” I snapped.
“That sounded like the old Clark.” Ryan said happily. “You seem to be feeling better already.”
“Shut up.” I grumbled.
“Don’t fall apart until you get here.” He said sarcastically, but I could hear an edge of seriousness in his voice as well. “I’m much better at putting people back together in person than I am over the phone.”
“Good bye Ryan.”
“Food and sleep.” He reminded me.
“Alright.” I said, knowing full well I wasn’t going to have either. Ryan probably knew too, but he let it go.