Chasing off the Days

Brendon’s lungs burned as he came to a stop. The harvest moon hung low on the edge of the horizon. It’s reflection in the water made it look too symmetrical, too perfect for this moment. Brendon cursed it as he struggled to catch his breath. The silence of the night surrounded him. He rubbed his tired face that seemed to be losing its elasticity by the moment. He walked towards the bare beach. All that was there was sand and little patches of black seaweed. Brendon’s eyes worked well with the yellow moonlight. He climbed over the dunes with his bare feet and took a seat about half way between the boardwalk and the ocean. The frogs croaked their love songs, the crickets strung their symphonies, and the waves crashed in succession. Brendon tasted the saltiness of the air and felt the sand prick his soft skin with a forced friction.

He sat down on the sand. It was damp beneath him and he could feel the moisture sneaking through the fabric of his black pants, although, he didn’t mind much. He grabbed a lump of white grains and pressed it in his hands. He formed it into a small ball between his palms. When he got it close to perfect, he flung it away towards the water. He couldn’t hear or see the landing but he didn’t need to really. He just liked the sudden spur of aggression that he got to let out.

Brendon’s mind suddenly wasn’t at the beach anymore, but at Spencer’s parent’s house in Vegas. He saw Spencer and Ryan and Brent all sitting on the couches. Their hair was long and their faces were young, almost innocent. He also saw himself though. He was standing in front of them. He could see the uneasiness in his posture and the forced carelessness in his face. He wondered if he was the only one who saw it that day. “What can you do?” he heard Ryan’s voice sneer. It sounded slightly annoyed and had a bite that Brendon would soon become fond of.

“um… A-Anything you want, really. Piano…, drums…, any string instrument you might produce, what else… oh, course, sing and uh…”

“He kind of has the same body type as Gollum,” Spencer observed from the couch. His blue eyes stared blankly at Brendon and he suddenly felt very exposed.

He felt his body tense up as he saw everyone give him the up down look. He wasn’t sure what to make of this situation. Was he auditioning for a band or a modeling agency?

“Can you do Gollum impressions? Ryan raised his eyebrows into the ultimate bitch face.

“It’s not part of my usual repertoire, b-but I can uh… give it a try, I guess.”

Brendon smiles down at the sand as he remembers meeting everyone that first day. He was so nervous and he didn’t know what to expect. He had wasted so much time just worrying about what they would think of him or if he was talented enough for them. Wasted time.

Brendon’s mind leaves the beach again. He is on the tour bus. The old one, though, from the European tour for Fever. He sees himself, Gollum physique and all, asleep in his bunk. A hand reaches through his curtain and shoves him awake. He looks startled and out of focus as he looks to the culprit. Ryan is ducking himself to the level of Brendon’s bunk. He raises his finger to his mouth, showing that silence is key. His hand is wrapped in those stupid grey arm warmers he used to wear. The edges are frayed and find a way to make his fingers look even skinnier than usual. Ryan climbs down into Brendon’s bunk making sure to close the curtain. “It’s almost four. Everyone else is asleep,” Ryan’s voice isn’t bitter this time, but sweet and calming and quite.

“I was, too! Why the hell are you still up?” Brendon pulls the covers around his body almost as if too shield himself from Ryan.

“I wanted to be with you,” Ryan whispers.

“Why me? Why can’t you go bother Spencer or Brent with your insomnia?” Brendon’s eyebrows are furrowed in deep annoyance.

“Cause I love you, Brendon,” Ryan says so suddenly that Brendon almost jumps at the words.

Brendon sighs and turns away pulling the cover over his head. “Go to bed, Ryan.”

Brendon’s skin crawls as this memory leaves. He itches at his scruffy face. He suddenly feels a chill coming off the water. He tries to think of something warmer.

Now, he’s among the wildflowers and little hills that cover the sides of the Sierra Nevadas. He climbs the winding path to the cabin. He is practically skipping. The sun is coming up over the horizon and he can feel the affectionate rays tickle at his skin. He looks forward and the cabin is just over the hill. He runs for it. He can feel the endorphins filling his body with a fuzzy feeling that he doesn’t want to shake. He hears the birds begin their morning hymns and the trickle of the dirty creek. He runs up the porch and opens the door to the cabin. He passes the front room and races down the hall. He turns into the last room on his left. He throws open the door. In a zombie like fashion, Ryan looks towards the door, propping his body up on his arms. “Where were you last night, man?”

“I needed some time to think,” Brendon crosses the room and climbs up into Ryan’s large bed. “About what you said.”

Ryan’s groggy face looks confused. “What did I say?”

Brendon smiles. The script is playing out as expected. “On the bus that one night. A year and a half ago. You told me you loved me.”

The morning light leaks through Ryan’s window. The shadow of the two boys appears on the opposite wall. They are both too enthralled to notice. Ryan’s eyes regain the light caramel that Brendon only saw in light conditions like these. Ryan’s mouth hangs slightly ajar and you can almost see his brain spinning past his retinas. “You have no idea how hard I tried to forget that night.” he finally says. “I was so… defeated.”

“You are a hero in my books,” Brendon whispers, biting down on his lower lip.

“How so?” Ryan squints his caramel spheres in a sarcastic confusion.

“Having the courage to do that is something I would never have done,” Brendon smiles, shaking his head at the older boy.

“Then, what are you doing right now?” Ryan smiles.

“Something Iwould have never done. Not without a sleepless night in my back pocket.” Brendon smiles and leans his face towards Ryan’s until their lips meet.

The salty waters come in dousing Brendon’s feet. The tide must have gotten higher while he was “gone.” He is suddenly extremely thankful that he “forgot” his shoes. The water lingers for a moment before returning back to the ocean, leaving white foam to caress the wet sand. He pulls himself up and looks to the ocean. Its waters are calmer than usual right now. He walks toward it and stops short of the shoreline. Fuck it. He climbs into the cold dark waters. His clothes begin to fill with water, weighing him down, and he can feel the icy temperature plaguing his lungs with short breaths. This isn’t the first time his breaths have been this short.

Brendon fumbles with his keys as he tries to find the right one. He does and proceeds to open the front door. He hears the odd silence that fills the house. He walks quickly down the long hallway. The bedroom door is open at the end. Ryan is lying in his bed. Brendon crosses the room to the edge of the bed and shakes Ryan. He doesn’t stir. He’s passed out no doubt.

Brendon sighs and walks over to the chair in the corner of the bedroom. He sits down in it and puts his head in his hands. He wishes he could have been there to stop Ryan from getting so fucked up. He looks back to the bed at his friend. Ryan’s body is disgustingly skeletal from the lack of food and endless supply of free drugs that the rock star life offers. Brendon is surprised he made it back home safe and sound. He hears the crumple of bed sheets and sees someone turn over towards the window. It isn’t Ryan, though. Brendon knows it’s her.

He feels his breath getting short and his lungs tightening. He clutches his chest and tries to breath. The wind keeps coming out stuttered and slow. Brendon’s feels his eyes sting and water. He can’t deal with this right now. He aggressively gets up and leaves to go back to his house.

Brendon comes up from beneath the ocean’s black facade. The saltwater streaks into his eyes making them sting. He wipes his face and leans back, floating on the surface and letting the waves gently push him to and fro. That wasn’t one of his shining moments. It wasn’t the last time that happened either. Like situations would soon come after that one. One after another they would topple on Brendon’s shoulders. Like the one that landed last week.

Brendon came through the front door. His arms were looped around Ryan’s small frame. He stumbled through his halls to his bedroom and dumped the frail boy on his white sheets. He looks at him. Completely out of it.

Ryan had excused himself from the V.I.P. booth and didn’t come back. After a half-an-hour, Brendon went looking for him. After unsuccessfully asking a couple friends, he found Ryan slumped in a bathroom stall. The drugs had knocked him out cold and Brendon was forced to take a taxi home.

The morning light slipped through the blinds, forcing Brendon awake in his bedside chair. His face was stiff and his eyes were heavy. He looked towards the bed. Ryan was still asleep. His eyes were sunken and black and his skin was almost translucent. His breaths were slow and hard, like it hurt to breath. Brendon got up and tried to shake his shoulder awake. He grumbled and turned over. Brendon tried again. “Is that you, babe?” Ryan’s weak, crackling voice erupted from the sheets.

Brendon sighed, “No, it’s me.” His voice was harsh. He knew who Ryan wanted to be there. But she was never there for him, at least, not the way Brendon was always there.

Brendon lost his balance on the calm waters and stood up. He felt the sandy bottom against his bare feet and saw the pink and orange shades flood the sky in preparation for the sunrise. He rubbed his face and sighed before pulling himself from the water back to the beach. Back to the dry sand beneath his feet. Then he started again, running. Running away from everything. His thoughts, his memories, and his Ryan. Stratch that… Ryan.

Brendon ran down the sandy trail and back to the street. He felt the tiny grains of sand rub between his toes as they grazed the cool concrete. The colors in the eastern sky were bleeding harsh tones of purple and orange and Brendon could feel his pace picking up. His clothes were still soaked and heavy. He felt the access moisture being rung out onto his skin and every step was a darker footprint on the asphalt. He ran past the boardwalk shops and past the street vendors starting there day. He ran for the hills and didn’t stop till he got there.

Among the wildflowers and the sugarcane, he slowed to a walk. His flooded lungs were constricting hard in his chest and he couldn’t help but see stars as he struggled to regain his composure. He felt the cool seawater turn to sweat and his head heat up. He leaned over and closed his tripping eyes. In through your nose, out through your mouth. he kept repeating as he followed his internal directions. He lifted his body back up and looked to the sky. The sun was sitting lazily on the edge of the mountains, obscuring Brendon’s vision with bright red and gold light. Brendon sat down on the soft grass and laid back. He felt the fresh morning dew mix with his sweat and his salt water and welcomed the feeling. The birds around him began their morning hymns and the faint sound of bats receding to their caves became relevant.

”Ryan. We just can’t do this anymore. You know why,” Brendon’s voice was soft and honest.

“Yeah, man. We have to be honest. This isn’t working out,” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, nervously.

“You can’t be serious,” Ryan said. His voice was weathered and worn, much like his black eyes. “Is that really gonna help anything?”

“No… THIS,” Brendon made a circular motion around Ryan, “isn’t gonna help anything. We can’t have you if you’re not willing to clean up.”

“I really don’t think your thinking this through guys,” Ryan laughed. “People love me. I’m Ryan fucking Ross. You can’t get rid of me.” You could tell that he thought he was on the edge of something profound.

Brendon was unimpressed, “well than take Ryan fucking Ross somewhere else, cause we don’t want him.” His eyes locked the black ones across from him with such fury that it scared Ryan.

Ryan kept his eyes on Brendon. “Spencer, my sir,” he said with a fake politeness, “can you leave us men to talk for a moment.”

“Whatever,” Spencer rolled his eyes and got up. “I got to go anyway. Call me if you need me, Brendon.”

Once the door had shut, the battle was on. “Do you really think you can do this, Urie?” Ryan’s voice had never been so callous, never so ruthless.

“What do you mean?” Brendon was suddenly a bit defensive.

“Do you really think you can go on without me for two days?” Ryan shook his head with a sarcastic smile growing on his face.

“I really can’t see why not,” Brendon crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his chair.

“You can’t, Brendon. You’ve tried and failed more than once. You’ll just come crawling back soon enough,” Ryan mocked him.

“No, that’s where your wrong, Ryan. That’s the flaw that you’ve made. You think I will but I refuse too. You’re the one that won’t last without me being there to save your life every week,” Brendon pointed a finger to his hollowed face.

“Look Brendon,” Ryan got up and crossed over to Brendon’s chair. “I’m sorry. I know what I haven’t done isn’t right and I surely don’t want to live like this anymore.” Ryan got on one knee, “I need you, Brendon.” He leaned in and let his lips roughly grace Brendon’s.

Ryan’s hand delves for Brendon’s pants, roughly palming through the denim. Ryan’s mouth makes it to Brendon’s ear. He runs his tongue over and behind it before going to his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Brendon lets out a soft moan and he can feel Ryan’s smile growing on his skin. His disgusting, sarcastic grin that repulsed Brendon. He tries to take control of himself and pushes Ryan off. The fragile boy is flung roughly across the room.

“No, Ryan,” he gets up. His voice is breathy from the rush of testosterone, ”sex isn’t gonna bring me back this time. Nothing will.” He forgoes his shoes and jacket, sprinting for the door and not stopping till he reached the shoreline.

Brendon rises up on his elbows. He can't help but smile at this memory. The beginning of a new era, the break in the vicious circle. His body relaxed and cooled down, yet thawing out in the morning sun. He likes the world from this new perspective. He finally feels human again. He finally feels at peace.