The Punchline to the Joke Is Asking

“Hey kiddo, Jimbo said you’ve been down.” Syn dropped onto the couch next to me, where I was playing video games for once. I’d had this horrible, hollow ache inside my chest since yesterday, and not even my guitar could make it go away. IN fact, my guitar seemed to make it worse.
“Nah, just… out of it.” I mumbled, shrugging as he reset the game to two player.
“If you were just ‘out of it’, you’d be playing your guitar.” Syn reasoned, and I scowled at the TV screen, suddenly eager to run his car right off whatever NASCAR track he chose. “I heard this was boy trouble.”
My little Porsche wound up false starting, and I lost precious seconds as Syn’s car took off down the track.
“He’s not the trouble.” I muttered mutinously, mentally egging my car on.
“Than what is?” Syn asked.
“Me.”

-X-

Over the next three days, Matt, Johnny, and even Zacky did their best to cheer me up. I just didn’t respond the way that we wanted me to. I couldn’t even look at my guitar anymore, and that was hurting me, too. I knew Jimmy had called Pete because everyone from Fall Out Boy (and Brendon) had been calling me, but I just ignored my phone. I didn’t even carry it with me anymore.
And now I was back outside, because I needed to breathe. I’d just walked out of the house at dawn, needing to be back on the streets where I belonged. I left my phone, my guitar, everything behind, because I was sure I was coming back. I knew I was going back.
I just… wasn’t sure when.
-
I wandered through Huntington Beach, some small, far-off part of me happy to be back on a cracking sidewalk in a city. I needed it, sometimes. To just let go and have nowhere to go. I pushed my hands deeper in my pockets, tipping my head back to feel the sun on my face. I’d gotten surprisingly pale being inside so much; I’d almost forgotten that I had my biological dad’s Irish skin.
I usually tried to forget about him entirely.
I didn’t think as I wandered, I just let my feet take me to the seedier part of town. I needed to forget everything for a while. I just needed to breathe without thinking.
I knew I was looking for a fight, I just hoped it wasn’t too much for me to handle.
-
When I found the druggie, I knew I was golden. He was out of his head on acid, so he was wired, wild, and wouldn’t have much control of his temper or any swing he took at me. It would be like some video game champ playing something set to ‘easy’.
By the time he was pissed enough to swing at me, I was already on top of the world, grinning, dodging around, teasing in and ducking out of range. He couldn’t touch me, and he was getting cut up. I’d never had claws before, but now that I was indoors all the time, my nails had grown out. Now this guy had bruises and cuts on his face.
I was almost done with him when someone hit me from behind, and I found his sober, irritated, very huge friend standing behind me.
-
By the time I started my way home, I was a bit sore, but satisfied. The huge guy hadn’t been much of a fighter, just dead weight. He’d gotten a couple of lucky shots- split my lip and my eyebrow- but other than that, I was golden. I just hoped the pair woke up before the real creeps crawled out of the woodwork after dark.
I was happy, because that was all I was thinking about.
Turns out, I should’ve been worried.
-
“Cyn! Where the hell were you?! What happened?! We were so fucking worried!” Jimmy yelled, practically jumping me as soon as I walked into the house. Still on edge after the fight, I automatically kicked his legs out from under him, then realized what was happening. I’d already reached out to help him back up by the time he hit the ground, blinking in surprise.
“Sorry Jimmy. Don’t jump out at me like that, it’s a bad idea.” I grinned crookedly, making Jimmy scowl as he took my hand and I hauled him upright.
“Whatever. You had us all worried sick! We were about to call the cops!” He kept scowling at me, and I dropped my gaze, awkwardly avoiding the eyes of all the other guys, not wanting to see the disappointment and irritation, no matter how much I deserved it.
“Sorry, Jimmy.” I mumbled again, staring at the floor, shoving my hands into my pockets for lack of anything else to do with them.
“Why are you bleeding, anyway?” Jimmy sighed, and I glanced up at him tentatively as I offered my explanation.
“Got in a fight.”
“Who beat you up?” Jimmy immediately asked, and I heard Matt shift, a sound suspiciously like a growl coming from him.
“Nobody beat me up.” I scowled indignantly at Jimmy. “Those guys’ll be lucky if they wake up ‘fore duck.” I snorted. “It was just some shithead on acid and his thug.”
“You mean the druggie and the huge guy on the other side of town?” Johnny asked, and I looked at him.
“Yeah, why?” I asked, cocking my head.
“That dude’s bigger than Matt.” Johnny said in awe, and Syn gave a low whistle.
I just shrugged. “Not much of a fighter, though.”
I didn’t like the way the guys were looking at me. Like I was dangerous. Like I should be locked up. Like a mad dog.
Like I should be put down.

-X-

“Hey Pete, sorry I haven’t been answering.” I said monotonously. It had been a full week since I’d stopped playing my guitar, and it was showing. I was slowly going out of my mind.
“Don’t apologize, just tell me what the fuck is going on. This isn’t like you.” Pete snapped back anxiously. I almost wished I’d called Gerard instead, he was more mellow, sometimes. Then again, sometimes he could be kinda scary.
“Look, Pete, even I don’t know anymore.” I sighed. “I just… I can’t play my damn guitar. I just don’t feel it anymore. I haven’t been writing, just… pacing. Sometimes I go out and walk around all day just to find a fight so I don’t have to think. I think I’m around the block, er, out of my mind.” I shook my head, even though Pete couldn’t see me through the phone.
“Does this have anything to do with Ryan?”
I froze, wondering what Pete knew. Sometimes even just what he guessed was accurate, and if he had any ideas about why my boyfriend was ignoring me, I wanted to hear him.
“How’s he been, anyway?” I finally asked, letting Pete know that hell yeah Ryan was what was bothering me, but not what was going on.
“I’m not sure, actually. He’s been busy with his band.” Pete replied slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he and Jon split from Panic!. They’re still friends with Brendon and Spencer, just not part of the band. And Brendon broke Ryan’s phone when we were all playing Spin the Bottle because he wouldn’t join in, so I haven’t really heard from him-”
“Neither have I.” I cut in. “I just… I think I’m in over my head with him, Pete.” I sighed. “It scares me, but in a good way.”
“Sounds like our little street rat’s starting to believe in love.” Pete teased gently, and I rolled my eyes, secretly loving it.
“Everybody needs to believe in something, Pete.”

-X-

Three days after I spoke to Pete, I still couldn’t play my guitar. I’d stopped leaving my room, I just stayed in there, pacing. It was driving me insane. I couldn’t write, eat, or even sleep anymore.
I hated the stupid power that Ryan had over me, and I knew it had to end. I’d known for weeks now, and I’d been waiting for him to call me so I could break our hearts it off.
And that was when the phone rang.

-42-
I dove onto my ringing cell phone, jamming it against my ear without checking the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Hey Cyn.” There it was, the voice that made me melt every single fucking time I heard it. Even now, knowing what was coming, I couldn’t help but smile like some lovesick dipshit.
“Ryan.” I breathed a sigh of relief, and he let out a small, almost nervous laugh.
“Cyn, I’m really sorry I haven’t called you. It’s just been hard; my phone broke, and I only just got a new one today because I’ve been running around with Jon because we split from Panic! to do our own thing and I’ve missed you like crazy-”
“Ryan,” I cut him off, still smiling. “I know. Pete told me. It’s okay.” I reassured him honestly. I really did understand that he was busy. “Tell me about your new band.” Even if he was only mine for a few more minutes, I still wanted those minutes to be mine.
“Well, we’re called The Young Veins, and we sound sort of Beatles-ish, I’ve been told.” He laughed a little, obviously elated to be compared to one of the greatest bands to ever play. “Jon and I are trying to recruit a drummer at the moment, and another guitarist. We managed to record a couple very rough takes of a song or two, but we like where we’re going with them.”
“That’s fantastic, Ry.” I grinned happily. I was so proud of that boy. See him? That cute, determined sweetheart who doesn’t let anything stop him? He’s mine.
At least, for now.
“Anyway, enough about me, how’ve you been, angel?” Ryan asked, sincerely happy to hear my voice, honestly caring about what I’ve been up to. I almost couldn’t believe I was going to willingly give this up, but it was better in the long run.
“It’s been a roller coaster over here.” I sighed, running my hands through my hair. “Did you hear Jimmy adopted me? I was absolutely blown away when he asked, and he and Leana are wonderful.” I grinned, but it was strained by what I knew was coming.
“That’s really awesome.” Ryan was happy for me, and it killed me that he was.
“Yeah, it’s been really fun spending so much time with these guys. They’re really not as scary as they pretend to be, especially Matt; he’s just a big teddy bear.” I laughed, and so did Ryan.
“Maybe he doesn’t scare you, Miss I’m-Too-Tough.” Ryan teased, making me roll my eyes.
“Anyway, I’ve just been kinda… off, recently.” I frowned, and Ryan was immediately concerned.
“What’s wrong? Is everything okay? How’s the dog?”
“Batman’s doing wonderfully, Ryan. He just misses you, can’t figure out where you’ve gone.” I sighed, and the dog raised his head to look at me. He’d picked up my mood, especially recently, and been almost as down as I was.
“I miss you both.” Ryan sighed.
“Yeah.” I agreed, and there was a beat of silence.
“If the dog’s alright, then what’s wrong?” Ryan finally asked, and I could tell he was getting ready for a war; whenever he thought I’d build up a wall to avoid answering, he made it his mission to make me spill my guts and help me pick up the pieces when it was all over.
“I just… haven’t been right. I don’t write anymore, I haven’t been eating right, I don’t even feel like playing my guitar.” I sighed.
“Oh, Cyn, what’s going on in that head of yours?” Ryan sighed too, but it sounded more helpless than anything else. If he were here with me, I knew I’d be in his arms, and there would be no way for me to find the strength to let him go.
But that was the problem; he wasn’t here.
He couldn’t hold me and talk me out of this, and I knew it was best for both of us. We wouldn’t get hurt after we got too attached this way.
“A lot.” I admitted quietly, picking at the bedspread beneath me. “I just… can’t stop thinking.”
“What are you thinking about?” Ryan asked, and I closed my eyes, wishing- for the first time in my life- that someone didn’t care so much.
-
We’d managed to get off the topic of my issues, and had a brilliant, three-hour conversation about everything and nothing, trading ‘I don’t care’s and ‘wish you were here’s. We swapped the latest stories about our goofy friends and their off-beat exploits, all their misguided missions and evil endeavors.
“Frank really dyed Gerard’s hair in revenge?” I gasped through the laughter, Ryan barely able to choke out a coherent response.
“Yeah, it’s fire-engine-red.” Ryan confirmed. “Thing is, Gerard loves it and decided to keep it! Says it works brilliantly with his latest ideas for the new album concept.”
“That’s awesome! And so typical of them.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I swear, Frankie helps more than he hurts when he’s trying to do damage.”
“Yeah, really.” Ryan agreed, the two of us sinking into a comfortable silence.
“I’ve really missed you.” Ryan sighed softly after a moment, sounding content.
“I missed you, too, Ry.” I smiled back, knowing he’d wish he’d never called in about five minutes, and be over it in ten. “And… I’ve been needing to talk to you.”
“About what?” I could hear the slight apprehension in Ryan’s voice, and I immediately felt guilty. I really, really hoped he wouldn’t hate me after this. What if everybody else hated me? Brendon, Bill, Gabe, Pete, just… everyone? What of I lost them all? Maybe it was better that way. Maybe I should just stick with Avenged and see what happened.
“About… us.” I admitted, hating how cliché I was sounding. It wasn’t like me, and I missed being myself. The last time I felt like me was before I got on the plane to California, when I was waking up next to Ryan. We’d fallen asleep together after another reading party.
“What about us?” Ryan asked quietly, his voice uncertain. He knew where I was going, he just didn’t want to believe it.
“I’ve been thinking a lot Ryan, about… you and me.” I swallowed. I’d rehearsed this so many times in my head, I had the words down to perfection, but they all seemed to have disappeared. “And I think… I think…” I closed my eyes, mentally screaming at myself to spit it out.
“What do you think, Cyn?” Ryan’s voice was gentle, caring, even though it had that broken sound like he’d accepted what was about to happen. That somehow unlocked my vocal chords, and the words just spilled out of me.
“I love you, Ryan.”
Well, that wasn’t what I’d practiced.