We're In Love And It Really Hurts When It's Wrong.

One year. It's been an entire year. And I haven't seen him in person for the majority of that time. I've seen his pictures on twitter, I've seen his, or The Young Veins new music videos. Very hipster-retro. I like it. It's cute. His obsession with the 60's that is. I remember when it was circuses and blink-182. But times have changed, and so have we. In fashion sense, and in musical taste. 

But one thing that hasn't changed would be Ryan's god damned stubbornness. Ever since we were young, he's been in denial about just about everything. Mostly his feelings. 

He bottles things up. 

He didn't she a tear when Keltie left him and took his dog, he couldn't have cared less when we, or I, was bottled on stage, and he's never once told any of his girlfriends that he loved them. 

The biggest example?

He's in complete denial about his feeling for the one person he knows he should be with the most. The one person he loves. 

Me. 

No, I'm not being vain or conceited. I know, and so does he. 

I can see it in his eyes when I make him smile. I can feel it in the friendliest of hugs. I can sense it when he stares at me when I'm not looking. 

Well I guess these should all be in the past tense. 

Ever since they left, we've hardly heard from each other. Neither Ryan or Jon has spoken directly to either one of us. They (well mostly Ryan) only talks about us, so I've heard. Not in a good way either. He doesn't like my music choice, he doesn't like that I sing his songs, and he thinks I brought nothing to the table back when they were in Panic! 

But he can never say his true feelings. 

I'm not an idiot. I know that, that time, that moment on the beach years ago, meant something. It wasn't just because he was upset because of his fathers death. I know that the reason he would blush and back away from the stage kisses was because he was crushing on me in return. Like a teenage girl. It wasn't because he was straight, it was because he liked it, and didn't want anyone to know. 

I see right through that boy. 

As years went on, his ego grew, and so did his annoyance. It got to the point where I couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. I hated that I loved him. 

I hate him now, but I still somehow love him. Even more if possible. 

I miss him and his cocky attitude I know he misses me, and Spencer too. There's no way he can just leave his childhood best friend behind in the dust while he goes on to what he thinks are bigger and better things, and be so content. Spencer isn't happy with it either, but he puts on a happy face for those around him. 

"Even though we split, we're still good buds."

Bullshit. 

The last conversation we had ended in a fight because Spence and I honestly didn't want them to leave. We wanted to try and work things out, but Ryan would have none of it. He's turned into an egotistical monster.One that I love.

So I've decided to put an end to this silent feud. 

The Young Veins are on break from tour, and Ryan's back in town. 

I invited Ryan to dinner. 

…Via twitter. 

He (strangely) graciously accepted. 

So now I'm sitting here, nervous, playing with my thumbs, wondering if he actually is going to show up. I ordered a drink from the bar, hoping that no one would recognize me as "Brendon Urie, the sexy lead singer from Panic! At The Disco." as much as I love my fans, I'm just not in the mood to deal with them right now.

I'm too busy trying to figure out why the hell I asked him here in the first place. 

"Brendon?" I turned at the sound of my name from a familiar voice. I lit up like a light when I saw that he actually had come. 

He looked just like he does in all his recent pictures, and just as freakishly skinny as I remember. He took the seat next to mine before I got the chance to jump up and wrap my arms around him, like I wanted to so badly. But even if I did have the chance. I don't think it would go over well. 

Since it's Ryan. 

And were in public. 

"Hey man, I'm glad you could come." I chose my words carefully. 

"Yeah, it's been a while hasn't it?" he replied. He didn't seem excited, or upset, or anything really. He just seemed normal. Ryan-like. Masking his emotions, building up this façade that's only transparent to me. 

"Yeah." I mumbled quietly. I looked down. The smile vanishing from my face. Suddenly the drink in my hands became very interesting. 

"So how has the band been working out?" he asked, probably feeling obligated to start conversation. 

"It's going great." I told him. "We should be releasing the new album sometime next year."

"I heard." he said. So now I suppose we'll continue on with stupid unimportant small talk until we decide to leave and not see each other for another year. So now I suppose I'll probably say something something along the lines of "How's Z?" though I couldn't really care less. 

But he interrupted me before I could carry on with the stupid, pointless conversation. 

"Why did you ask me here?" he asked suddenly very serious. 

"Why did you agree to come?" I shot back very defensively. Shit. He's making me nervous. Me. I never get nervous. 

"I asked you first." he sighed. 

"I missed you." I mumbled after taking a deep breath. "We miss you guys. I feel like were fighting over nothing. And I'm sick of it. We used to be such great friends. What happened?" I asked. 

"We grew apart." he mumbled. "Different. Wants. Different interests." he said nonchalantly. 

"Bullshit." I blurted out. By mistake. Honest. 

He gave me a dirty look and rolled his eyes. 

"I'm sick of that excuse. The fans aren't buying it, and neither am I. I understand why the band broke up. I'm not stupid. What I don't understand is why you and Jon had to drop us the minute you guys left. We tell everyone were still friends, but were not. And there's no reason why we shouldn't be." I mumbled the last part. 

"Brendon…" he trailed off. He didn't have a comeback. "I've been busy." he said. I rolled my eyes. Busy. 

"How could you do that to Spencer? He's been your best friend since you two were kids." I paused. "And what about me?" 

"What about you?" he cut me off in a bitter tone. 

"You know what." I sighed. He did know. But he wouldn't admit it. He knew very well his feeling for me. He told me. It may have been three or four years ago, and he may have been upset about his fathers death, but I know he meant it, and so does he. I know he still feels something. He sure as hell doesn't feel anything for Z. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." he mumbled. 

"You're in such denial." I laughed humorlessly. 

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about." he growled. I hit a soft spot. "I didn't come here to be harassed."

"Then why did you come here?" I challenged. 

"You know what?" it looks like I had pissed him off. Majorly. "I have no idea. It was a mistake. I'm leaving." he said, grabbing his thing and heading for the door. 

That stubborn bastard. If he leaves now, I'll never be able to make amends. So far all I've done is pissed him off. I might have to try a different approach. 

I chased after him. 

He angrily marched down the street towards his car. Before he reached the parking lot, I caught up and grabbed ahold of his arm. I pulled him into the small alley way along the side of the building. 

"What are you doing? Let me go!" he said angrily. 

"No. Ryan look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean those things." Yes I did. "I asked you here because I wanted to make amends. I want to be friends again."

"Well maybe I don't want to be friends. Maybe I can't." he mumbled the last part so low, I'm sure it wasn't meant for me to hear. 

"Why not?" I pushed. 

"Look. I have to go." he growled before beginning to walk away. I grabbed his arm again. 

"Ryan. Please." I pleaded. He sighed. "You and I both know how you feel about me, and I know how I feel about you. Face it. Neither one of us have been truly happy since the split." I spoke softly. 

"I don't know about you, but I'm perfectly happy. I have my band the way I want it. I have Z…" he trailed off. 

"You always were a bad liar." I said. 

The expression on his face turned angry. He then tore him arm from my grasp and began to storm off.  But I couldn't let him go off now, hurt, angry, and unconvinced. I chased after him and grabbed a hold of his jacket sleeve. I pulled him back into the alley way. 

He thrashed around at first, the stopped and looked at me with desperate eyes. 

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. "Please. It'll be better for both of us if you just let me go." he pleaded in a desperate voice. 

"No Ryan. Is that why you've started drinking then? Because you're happy?" I blurted out. "Ryan, I can't let you go down that path. " I mumbled. 

He looked as if a horrific realization crossed his mind. He then fell back against the wall, and slid down, bringing his knees to his chest. He hid his face from me, and I kneeled down next to him, not sure what else to do. Thank god it was dark. 

I then noticed that he was crying. I immediately felt guilty. I didn't mean to push him this hard. I've only known him to cry once. It not something that happens often. 

"Ryan…" I started. I wasn't really sure what to do or say. 

"He would hate me." I heard him mumble. Just barely though. 

"What are you talking about? I asked softly. 

"I can't be gay. Bren," he hasn't called me that in years. " h-he would hate me. He'd be even more disappointed in me." he mumbled. 

"Your dad?" I asked softly. 

He nodded. 

I sat down next to him and pulled him into a hug that he didn't object to. 

"Ryan." I breathed. "I'm so sorry." 

There was silence while I thought about what to say. "Ryan, your dad, he was a man that made many mistakes. And I'm sure he regretted every single one of them. I'm sure that where ever he is now, weather it be heaven or-"

"I'm an atheist." he interrupted me. An amused smile found my lips. 

"Even so," I continued. "I bet that he just wants, or wanted, you to be happy and successful. And look at you now. No one could hate you. You're amazingly talented, kind, understanding, smart, and even if you do let your ego get the best of you," I joked, though it was completely true. "You're someone to be proud of. No matter your sexuality. If no one else, you should be  proud of yourself, enough to be able to be who you are,and be happy. You deserve to be happy. You didn't deserve what your dad did to you, and you don't deserve what you're doing to yourself. You deserve, no, you need love and happiness. Weather it be from a girl… or a guy." I finished. I might have let myself get a little carried away… and cheesy. He didn't respond for a while. 

He sniffed. "Thanks." he mumbled. I gave him a reassuring smile and patted him on the back. 

"No problem." I said. 

"Why are you so good at making people feel good?" he asked, and let out a shaky laugh. 

"Only the people I care about." I said. 

He smiled at me. 

He smiled at me.

He began to stand up, and I got up and pulled him up with me. As soon as he was on his feet, he pulled me into a hug, much to my surprise. 

I hugged him back. 

"Really. Thank you Brendon." he said. "I really do have to go though." my smile faltered. "I'm meeting Z…" my smile faltered even more. The slut. "But call me sometime. Or I'll call you. We should meet up again soon." he said wiping away the last of his tears. 

I nodded and patted his shoulder. "Yeah. Can't wait." I then watched, as he walked off into the distance, disappearing into his car, and taking off into the distance. Off to meet his gold digger girlfriend. Then they'll probably fuck, and he'll forget all about this little meeting, and go back to a life of drugs, alcohol, and whatever else comes along with his little hipster theme he's got going there. 

Well this was a complete waste of time. 

Like he's really going to call me. 

~*~

I sat in my apartment, unable to sleep. It was nearly midnight, I couldn't stop thinking about what happened tonight. 

The whole point of me asking him to meet me was so that I could get him to confess his feelings, and so that everything would be good again. But no. Everything is exactly how it was before. Only now his ego is probably even bigger, now that he knows I'm practically in love with him, and that I think the world of him. 

He's probably fucking his girlfriend right now.

There was a knock at the door. 

Who the he'll would be knocking at this time a night? If it's Spencer again…

I opened the door, and the one and only Ryan Ross stood in my doorway. 

Maybe he wasn't fucking Z…

"Hey… um…" he started. "Do you mind if we talk? I hope I didn't wake you. I didn't realize how late it was…" he finished. 

"Uh, no, it's okay. I wasn't asleep. Come in." I said stepping aside so he could enter. 

He came in and sat on the couch. 

"Nice place." he said, kicking back. 

"Uh thanks." I said scratching the back of my neck out of nervousness. "So what did you need to talk about?" I asked. 

"Um." he paused. "I broke up with Z." 

My eyes widened. "Why?" I asked. Wait, I hadn't really gotten to him had I? 

"Because…" he took a deep breath. "You were right. You were right about everything. I-I am g-gay, and I was-" he cut off. He took another deep breath. "I'm sorry." he said. "This is really hard for me." 

I nodded and sat down next to him. "How did Z take it?" I asked. He sighed. 

"I didn't tell her why. But she wasn't as upset as I thought she'd be." he explained. 

"Oh." I said. I wasn't really sure what to say to that. 

"Though, its not like I expected her to be suicidal or anything. I'm pretty sure she was only with me for the publicity. Not because she actually liked me or anything."

"I'm sorry." maybe it was best that I didn't say anything, and just let him vent. 

He looked at me. "It's okay." he said. 

There was an awkward silence. What was I supposed to do now? He's confessed his sexuality, but where does that leave us?

"Brendon?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

 "I know I told you, but, I don't think I'm ready for everyone to know." he mumbled. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I promise." I said. I put my hand on his shoulder for comfort, and he turned to look at me. Our faces were so close, that I expected him to turn away. But he didn't. He leaned closer. His breathing sped up and I could tell he was nervous. I was slightly nervous too.

I leaned in a little bit closer, and I could feel his breath on my lips. Finally we closed the distance. His lips moved softly against mine, but gradually became fiercer. I traced my tongue against his bottom lip and he opened. Then all of a sudden I was on my back and he was on top of me. One of his hands cupped my face, and the other rested on my waist. 

He pulled away with a smirk on his face, and sat up. I sat up too, trying to think of a response. 

"That was uh…"

"Nice." he finished. I chuckled at his choice of words. He laughed too and leaned over, giving me another peck on the lips. 

"I should get going. I was going to go see Spencer." he said. I nodded. "Can I, um, stop by tomorrow?" he asked. 

I laughed. "Yes. Please do." 

He stood up, and I stood with him, and walked him to the door. He turned around and unexpectedly wrapped his arms around me. I kissed him on the cheek. He pulled away and initiated one more kiss before leaving. 

"See you tomorrow." he said closing the door. 

"Yeah." I said. "See you tomorrow."