Build Myself a Wall Up on Happy Highs

Ryan’s eyes are on the road, but his mind is elsewhere. And it’s writing lyrics. Drifting off into the deserts we’re driving through. He doesn’t really like it; because his poetic type of thinking usually leads to him crying, but it’s not like there are many other options. Nick’s asleep, and so is Nick. Andy said ‘fuck the world’ and resorted to blasting his iPod about two hours ago. Ryan would’ve taken the same route, except his iPod died about three hours ago. Jon’s driving, and considering that’s he’s been deprived of his usual Grande Mocha Frappucino for the day, and that Ryan snapped at him on stage; Ryan is afraid to even open his mouth.

Really, he didn’t mean to snap; it was just a reflex against what Jon had said. It was during the transition from “Change” to “Cape Town.”

“So we’ve got a new album coming out…”
Ryan had jerked his head around as soon as the words left Jon’s lips.
“You mean our first album, our only album.”
Jon instantly realized his error, but masked his emotion well.
“Oh yeah, that’s what I meant.”
Ryan wanted to drive the point home.
“He meant our first album, everyone.”
And that was the end of that. Ryan threw Jon one more bitchface and then started singing.

Except, it isn’t the end of that. Ryan has been dwelling on Panic! ever since the mess-up. He starts counting the things he misses, starting from the bottom first: the fame, the mobs of fans, the adrenaline, Zach, Shane, the not-so-stage gay, Spencer… and that’s Ryan’s first choke in thought. His best friend, of all people. The person who was supposed to support him no matter what. Now they’re separated by about three thousand miles, and Ryan’s still too upset to even pick up the phone when Spence calls. Ryan kind of feels like he’s been backstabbed; Spence was supposed to say yes to a new band, in agreement with Jon and Ryan. If Spencer had consented, then Brendon would’ve had to give in or get lost, and Brendon is-

Brendon is Ryan’s second choke. He just… no. It hurts too much to think of him, the guilt, the disappointment, the emptiness.

Ryan decides that talking to Jon is better than thinking, even if Jon wants to kill him. He takes a few minutes of mental preparation in order to actually speak up.

“Jon?” he mumbles, glancing over at the driver. Ryan’s eyes shift back to his lap when there’s no movement from the other.

“Yeah?” Jon says, his monotone rivaling Ryan’s. Hearing the tone, Ryan gulps.

“Please understand, I’m sacrificing my pride by saying this. And you know that’s really fucking hard for me,” he pauses when he hears Jon starting to laugh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.” Jon finally takes a quick look at Ryan, and then brings his eyes back to the road.

“It’s okay, just understand that I didn’t mean to. Some girl was talking to me about…” he catches himself from saying Panic! “… The old band right before we went on. It was kinda in my head, you know?”

“I suppose,” Ryan says, making a silent vow to kill the girl.

“And no killing any of our fans.”

“Fuck you, Walker. You take away all the fun.”

“Says the monotoned hippie.”

“As the guy who couldn’t decide between the owl guitar strap and the hibiscus one, you shouldn’t be talking.”

“It wasn’t a hibiscus; it was an orchid,” Jon says like it’s an obvious fact.

“And the fangirls thought I was the gay one.” Jon’s thankful that Ryan can’t see him blush. If Ryan knew about him and Spencer still being together… well, that metal rod in Ryan’s foot would probably wind up buried somewhere in Jon’s colon. And that makes him laugh, a little. Ryan mistakes it as Jon laughing at the joke, and joins in.

After they get their breath back, neither can think of anything else to say. The van returns to silence. Ryan tries to look out the passenger window, but his eyes keep drifting back to Jon. He can’t help but remember when Jon first joined.

It was a rush, considering that they were on tour. Yet Jon seemed like an obvious decision… he acted as a pillow for Brendon, a friend for Spencer, and a partner-in-crime for Ryan. Somewhere along the Honda Civic tour, that friendship between Ryan and Jon grew. They had more jokes, sang more songs, and closed themselves off. Ryan remembers how Spencer and Brendon had been particularly pissed after the tire on the Volkswagen died, and Ryan and Jon made up a song instead of helping. That brings a smile, thinking of how a shoe flew in each of their faces later that night.

Ryan sighs, a reminding himself that it’s all past and how he should be relishing the present. But that only leads to more painful thoughts, and soon he’s begging for an escape. He blurts out his first complete thought: “Who did you think was the best looking when you first joined?”

Ryan surprises even himself with that question, yet after musing over it for a while it seems to make sense. Besides, he feels like he had an advantage. Jon has always been slightly drawn to his… sculptured looks, dare he say it. Otherwise Jon wouldn’t have-

“Spencer.”

“WH- ahem, what?”

“Spencer.” Jon finds no problem with saying it; everyone in that band at least had one hookup with each other. Ryan wouldn’t figure it out.

“No, I meant when you first joined the band.”

“Spencer.”

“Like, back during Spencer’s chubby days.”

“Spennn-cerrr.”

“I… but… how could you resist Brendon’s glorious ass?!”

Jon laughs, hard, but Ryan doesn’t. Suddenly, Ryan is removed from the car, from the road, from the desert; and he’s placed on a stage. There’s makeup on half his face that’s getting ruined by sweat. He’s ferociously picking out notes on an old Epiphone that’s now lying in ashes. He can hear Brendon on the other side of the stage singing, “I chimed in, haven’t you people ever heard of…” And he realizes, oh crap, he has to move. Ryan walks over to meet Brendon center stage. “…with a sense of voice and rationality,” Brendon sings, getting on his knees and trailing his hand up to Ryan’s crotch.

Jon realizes that Ryan has disappeared, and decides to turn on the radio. He flips through the stations and somehow finds “Grace is Gone.”

Ryan hears the song and snaps back. It isn’t real. He isn’t with Brendon, he’s farther away from Brendon than ever before.

‘Scuse me please, one more drink, could you make it strong ‘cause I don’t need to think. She broke my heart, my grace is gone. One more drink and I’ll move on.

Brendon is Ryan’s grace. Was Ryan’s grace. And now he’s gone, and Ryan feels empty. He misses Brendon; he misses his touch, his warmth, his mouth, him. Brendon was a part of him; a part gone missing. It’s eating Ryan from the inside and he’s in denial. He just feels so empty, so guilty; it’s all his fault. Everything is his fault.
He doesn’t notice it until now, but tears have been rolling down his face. He leans his head against the window and tries to be quiet; he really doesn’t want Jon to hear. Slowly, his eyes fall shut and he falls to nothingness.

When he starts snoring, Jon smiles. He knows that falling asleep isn't an option, so he calls the one person who would be up right now. One with a three hour time difference.

The phone doesn’t even get to the second ring.

“Hey babe,” Spencer says. Jon can hear the smile in his voice.

“Hey Spin,” he replies, “I miss you, you know?”

“And you think I don’t miss you? I’m dying out here; Brendon’s all I’ve got and he’s being an idiot.”

“Same with Ryan.” Jon tells Spencer about the “best looking” conversation. Spencer keels over laughing. “... and then after the Brendon’s ass comment, he started crying. I honestly don’t know what to do, Spin. Both of them of destroying each other. By themselves.”

“That made no sense, but neither does my plan,” Spencer states.

“What’s your plan?”

“Pete.”