‹ Prequel: These Lives Of Ours.
Nothing Is Ever Perfect
Are we growing up or just going down?
I woke up to a very tired looking Ryan the next morning. His brown eyes were staring intently at me, and I was beginning to feel a bit un comftorable. There was something about his expression that was unsettling.
“You were talking in your sleep.” He muttered, getting up and walking over to the dresser, pulling out the clothes and make-up he’s need for the day. It was almost like everything was normal, with the exception of the strange look he kept on his face. I strugled to remember what I was dreaming about, but all I could seem to recal was a glowing white ball of light, floating silently around a dark room.
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A couple of hours later we were both dressed, showered, make-up’d, and we had eaten. Patrick had left for the morning to sort out some band plans, and that left Ryan and I to be alone. The original plan for the tour was to stop long enough to burry Pete, and maybe have a couple days break, but the FOB guys didn’t think it was fair to dissapoint all those excited fans, so we’d be leaving again in about 2 days.
“What were you dreaming about.” Ryan asked quietly, his face was still hard and he looked like he was angry…or maybe just upset. I suddenly realized that I hadn’t told anyone about my dream with Pete, and, at the same time, I began to decode my dream from last night. All I could remmeber was the white orb, but it matched the one that was floating around a couple of nights ago. I couldn’t help but think that maybe that meant that Pete was gone for good.
“Chip?” I turned and shook my head, clearing my thoughts long enough to speak. “I don’t really remember, it was probably nothing.” Ryan proceeded to mumble something, but it was too quite to hear.
Eventually the silence became to much and I went upstairs to get my sketch pad. Somehow, drawing had always managed to distract me from everything. If I got really lost in a drawing, I could let hours pass without looking up from the book (except, of course, to take a peak at what I was drawing.)
I walked out on the porch and started to sketch one of the trees that stood behind Pete’s house. It seemed to do it’s job as soon I was lost in thought, and the only other thing around me was the sound of an acoutic guitar quietly strumming away.
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After a couple of minutes I decided to get up and grab my guitar. If I was going to sit around and be by myself, I might as well do something interesting right?
I sat down on the kitched table and pulled out my song book. I had most of Panic!’s songs in there, and a couple of covers that I kept so that I’d never forget them. “Are we growing up or just going down it’s just a matter of time until we’re all found out…” I started playing one of FOB’s song, and it seemed to ease the pain a little. Remembering the time when Pete had tought it too me brang a smile to my face.
“With worse luck and fair less gold…” the further I got into the song, the more into it I got, and the bigger my smile got. I was kind of surprised to find Patrick standing behind me at the end of the song. I wondered how long he’d been listning but I couldn’t seem to get the words out. I think he was a bit surprised to see me so happy, but again, I didn’t know exactly how to explain it to him.
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I looked up from my drawing when the music came to an end. I had just realized that it was Ryan playing (duh), and I wondered how he could manage to get through a whole FOB song so easily. I would have thought that would have been hard for him.
I walked back into the house and saw Patrick teahcing something to Ryan. I stopped to watch for a little bit, taking in how well the two of them connected. I hadn’t seen Ryan let anyone teach him anything other then Pete, and I wondered why all of a sudden he was so attatched the Patrick. I was deffinatly glad to see him so happy, but I was puzzled at the same time.
I guess it didn’t matter though. As long as one of us was working through Pete’s death, and it might as well be Ryan. I don’t have to go on stage every night and look happy, but he does.
“You were talking in your sleep.” He muttered, getting up and walking over to the dresser, pulling out the clothes and make-up he’s need for the day. It was almost like everything was normal, with the exception of the strange look he kept on his face. I strugled to remember what I was dreaming about, but all I could seem to recal was a glowing white ball of light, floating silently around a dark room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A couple of hours later we were both dressed, showered, make-up’d, and we had eaten. Patrick had left for the morning to sort out some band plans, and that left Ryan and I to be alone. The original plan for the tour was to stop long enough to burry Pete, and maybe have a couple days break, but the FOB guys didn’t think it was fair to dissapoint all those excited fans, so we’d be leaving again in about 2 days.
“What were you dreaming about.” Ryan asked quietly, his face was still hard and he looked like he was angry…or maybe just upset. I suddenly realized that I hadn’t told anyone about my dream with Pete, and, at the same time, I began to decode my dream from last night. All I could remmeber was the white orb, but it matched the one that was floating around a couple of nights ago. I couldn’t help but think that maybe that meant that Pete was gone for good.
“Chip?” I turned and shook my head, clearing my thoughts long enough to speak. “I don’t really remember, it was probably nothing.” Ryan proceeded to mumble something, but it was too quite to hear.
Eventually the silence became to much and I went upstairs to get my sketch pad. Somehow, drawing had always managed to distract me from everything. If I got really lost in a drawing, I could let hours pass without looking up from the book (except, of course, to take a peak at what I was drawing.)
I walked out on the porch and started to sketch one of the trees that stood behind Pete’s house. It seemed to do it’s job as soon I was lost in thought, and the only other thing around me was the sound of an acoutic guitar quietly strumming away.
--------------------------------
After a couple of minutes I decided to get up and grab my guitar. If I was going to sit around and be by myself, I might as well do something interesting right?
I sat down on the kitched table and pulled out my song book. I had most of Panic!’s songs in there, and a couple of covers that I kept so that I’d never forget them. “Are we growing up or just going down it’s just a matter of time until we’re all found out…” I started playing one of FOB’s song, and it seemed to ease the pain a little. Remembering the time when Pete had tought it too me brang a smile to my face.
“With worse luck and fair less gold…” the further I got into the song, the more into it I got, and the bigger my smile got. I was kind of surprised to find Patrick standing behind me at the end of the song. I wondered how long he’d been listning but I couldn’t seem to get the words out. I think he was a bit surprised to see me so happy, but again, I didn’t know exactly how to explain it to him.
-------------------------------
I looked up from my drawing when the music came to an end. I had just realized that it was Ryan playing (duh), and I wondered how he could manage to get through a whole FOB song so easily. I would have thought that would have been hard for him.
I walked back into the house and saw Patrick teahcing something to Ryan. I stopped to watch for a little bit, taking in how well the two of them connected. I hadn’t seen Ryan let anyone teach him anything other then Pete, and I wondered why all of a sudden he was so attatched the Patrick. I was deffinatly glad to see him so happy, but I was puzzled at the same time.
I guess it didn’t matter though. As long as one of us was working through Pete’s death, and it might as well be Ryan. I don’t have to go on stage every night and look happy, but he does.