& We Die of Broken Things Like Hearts.

(we’ll make things right; we’ll feel it all tonight.)

“I flew out to L.A. the next week and Ryan grabbed me and begged me to help him find Alice. Every time we went out he was looking for her. And . . .” Brendon gulped at the air nervously. “On tour and everything. He was looking for her.”

Dru turned, stroking his cheek and kissing him soft on the mouth. She murmured in her soft voice and he leaned his head on her shoulder. “How long?”

Brendon sniffled. “Six weeks. And one day it just . . . stopped. And he never talked about it again.”

They heard footsteps and separated. Ryan came into the living room, looking tired and worse for the wear. The neck of his shirt was wet and Dru couldn’t tell by looking at his face if it was from tears or sweat. It could have been both. “You okay?” she asked gently.

“Hungry.” he said in this small, choked voice. He reached his hand out and Brendon took it, squeezing tightly.

“Anything in particular you want?” the girl asked, standing up and turning her head, blinking quickly to force the tears away from her eyelashes.

“No.”

“There’s Hot Pockets in the freezer, Dru.” Brendon said, gathering Ryan up into his arms and stroking his hair. There was a very protective, affectionate bubble between them at the moment that didn’t read a damn thing like romance and everything like love. And as the girl went to the kitchen, she hoped silently that it wouldn’t pop once Ryan was clean and realized she wasn’t really the girl from Wonderland.

Ryan only managed to eat half of the Hot Pocket before he fell asleep on the couch with his head in Brendon’s lap and his hand in Dru’s.

(be calm, be brave, it’ll be okay.)

“Are you sure we shouldn’t send him to a hospital?” Dru asked Brendon that night while she was changing for bed. He was going to sleep in Ryan’s room to make sure he didn’t sneak out again. “I’m not trying to shove him off, I swear!” Her voice sounded close to breaking when Brendon’s hard eyes fixed on her. “I just . . . I read online that, like, it’s safer.”

“Fuck you and the internet.” he muttered darkly and she had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into tears. His entire body seemed to collapse when he saw it. “Baby, baby, I’m sorry.” He pulled her into his arms, stroking her back and kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” He sang a few bars from ‘Northern Downpour’ and kissed her on the mouth. “But I’m sure. I don’t think . . . Ryan hates hospitals, you know? And the Alice thing. And he said he’s not using, like, an obscene amount.”

“I’m scared we won’t be able to help him.”

“Get some sleep, baby. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

And Dru fell asleep thinking about how completely unfair it was that Ryan had called her Alice only because he was on drugs and had no idea what the fuck he was saying. And then she cried because she felt like a selfish bitch.

(he ate a slice of wonderbread and went right back to bed.)

Ryan slept until three in the afternoon and when he woke up he started screaming at Brendon. Dru couldn’t understand the words because they got so garbled trying to find their way from his mouth, but her boyfriend had to hold the boy onto the bed by his wrists. She hid in the bathroom with her hands pressed over her ears, tears coursing down her cheeks and over her lips.

After an hour of wandering around the living room and trying to pretend everything was okay, she went to the bedroom and put on a blue dress and some eyeliner. White tights and a black headband. She stood in the doorway of the guestroom and waited for one of them to notice her. It was Ryan.

He started to cry and she held him while Brendon went outside for a cigarette and probably to curse and kick things. The dogs went with him.

Ryan cried for a good fifteen minutes and harder when Dru kissed the inside of his elbows. “I’m supposed to save you.” he whispered, tugging on her hair. It was a little harder than he meant, but she didn’t say anything about it.

“Once you’re better, you will.” she told him, trying to figure out how she was supposed to be saved. “Right now we’re going to save you.”

“Don’t want him.” Ryan made a face and Dru wanted to hit him. “Just you. I don’t want him anymore.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have come to his house.”

“He was hiding you from me!” Ryan screamed.

“I was here because I wanted to be.” she hissed. She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him-hard-on the mouth. “You silly, stupid boy.”

Ryan blinked and sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m hungry, Alice.”

Increased appetite was number seven on the list of twelve withdrawal symptoms she had found on the internet. Ryan ate three BLTs and Brendon made him a blueberry smoothie. Then they sat down on the couch and watched Wife Swap. Ryan fell asleep tucked into Brendon’s side.

(we are nowhere and it’s now.)

Ryan’s fingernails were nonexistent and his hair was greasy. Brendon was at Target getting groceries because Ryan’s appetite seemed to be increasing as the drugs left his system. Ryan slept about nine hours at night and then took two or three naps during the day. He liked to brush Dru’s hair and take drags off her “nasty menthol” cigarettes.

Brendon was still sleeping with Ryan and he was also sleeping with her. He’d woken Dru up at three in the morning and told her Ryan was hysterical and begging for sex and “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but he just . . . I couldn’t” and she kissed him and told him it was okay. She was surprised at how much she wasn’t upset. She could hear them from hers and Brendon’s room and Ryan was always in a better mood on those mornings (afternoons) when he woke up.

She could tell the Ryan/Brendon equation was going to end in one of two ways once the boy was clean. Either Ryan was going to leave again and Brendon was going to pretend that his heart wasn’t breaking. Or Ryan was going to stay forever and they would figure out some trigonometry equation to work with.

She and Brendon had sex while Ryan was taking naps and sometimes Ryan liked to kiss her shoulders and neck while he brushed her hair. Soft, chaste kisses. It hurt to admit, even to herself, that sometimes she had to go upstairs and masturbate afterward.

“Are we going to take Brendon when we go to Wonderland?” Ryan asked her as he ran his fingers through the girl’s soft hair. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked.

Dru gave the same answer she’d been giving. “It’s too early to make any plans yet.”

“I haven’t had anything in four days.”

“You’re still withdrawing.”

Ryan threw the hairbrush at the wall and Dru winced. “Why are you being so mean to me?” He stood up and started pacing, his teeth working on his fingernails again. Suddenly he stopped and stared at her. “I don’t think the real Alice would be so mean to me.” His eyes widened to manic proportions and the girl was suddenly afraid he was going to hurt her. “Did you lie to me?”

She had to lick the entire inside of her mouth because it was too dry to formulate words. “Y-You recognized me.”

“Is it a game?” he whispered.

Dru held her arms out and he curled up next to her, letting the girl rock him and stroke his hair. “It’s only a game if you’re winning, Ry.”

“Am I winning?” He was crying.

Dru kissed his cheek. “Almost, baby. You’re almost winning.”

(that song you softly sing is keeping you from breaking.)

Brendon came in while Dru was getting dressed for bed. “Ryan wants you to sleep with him tonight.” His voice was soft and she couldn’t pick up any emotional implication. Which was bad. Or maybe not bad, but certainly not good. If you’re hiding something then it means you don’t someone else to see it.

“Bren . . .”

He just shook his head and stared at the floor. He was trying not to cry. Not that it was Dru’s fault. Of course not. And it wasn’t Ryan’s either. It was just that why would he want her? He barely knew her. He only met her a week ago. And he’d known Ryan for years. Why did he want Dru instead of him? What did he do?

“Baby?”

“You should get in there. There’s water by the bed and stuff. I’m going to shower.” And he left her there like that, dressed in only a tee shirt and a pair of underwear without a good night kiss.

Ryan was dressed in one of Brendon’s tee shirts and a pair of boxer shorts. He kissed Dru hard when she crawled into bed and pulled her into his arms. The world seemed to fade to a hazy sort of a bird’s eye city view as he started singing Jefferson Airplane’s White Rabbit to her.

In the morning the bed was empty and she got up in a panic to make sure Ryan was still there. He was giving Brendon head in their bed.

(the taste of your lips says we shouldn’t have met like this.)

It hurt and she wouldn’t admit it because she always prided herself on a lack of jealousy and it was such sentimental bullshit to say “it’s different if it’s in our bed”. She cried in the shower and smoked six cigarettes and snuck a swallow of vodka straight from the bottle hidden in the back of cupboard because Brendon hid all the alcohol so Ryan wouldn’t find it.

So when Ryan wanted to sleep with her again that night and he kissed her, she kissed back harder than she probably should have and let her hands tangle in his hair. And he kissed her again and again and the world started to fade. And she was crying, maybe, and he was such a good kisser and his fingers were long like Brendon’s but different and she was coming hard and then she was crying and she knew it this time, could taste the tears.

In the morning Ryan was still sleeping and she crept into their bedroom and put her face in Brendon’s chest. They were so alike, so different. And Brendon was hers—hers—and Ryan was something else. And she just couldn’t understand what was going on anymore.

Brendon’s fingers started stroking her hair and she fought her tears, not sure what to say to him. “I heard you.” he said softly. “Last night.”

“I’m sorry.” she whispered. And the tears came then. He pulled her up and kissed her on the mouth, swallowing all of her noises. He laid her on her back and pulled her panties down and then he was inside her. He was kissing her neck and her mouth and she was trying to apologize.

He came and she didn’t, but she didn’t really want to. And when it was over, he pulled her head to his chest again. “It’s okay.” he told her. “I’m not mad.”

“I did it because I was mad at you.”

She could hear him stop breathing for a second and his fingers tightened ever so slightly, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. “Why were you mad at me?”

She sniffled. “I saw you. Yesterday. And . . . and I’m just stupid and I don’t, but it’s not . . . it’s our bed and you didn’t even . . . you couldn’t . . . it’s just not . . .” She couldn’t stop the tears.

He kissed her again, shushing her, stroking at the moisture on her cheeks with the bed sheet. And then suddenly they both felt the bed dip and Ryan’s arms were around Dru’s waist. And he was telling her not to cry and it all felt right except for all the ways it didn’t.

“Don’t cry, Alice.”

“It’s okay, Dru. Don’t cry, baby.”

And when the tears slowed, the girl kissed Brendon on the mouth and Ryan on the cheek and went downstairs to make frozen waffles and scrambled eggs for breakfast.

(lost myself again and i feel unsafe.)

Z called Ryan that day. She said she was going to come over tomorrow and bring him some clothes. When Brendon asked him about it, Ryan just shook his head. He spent the rest of the day screaming at both of them and sleeping. He slept with Brendon that night and the sex noises lasted well into the night. Dru eventually went downstairs to sleep on the couch.

Z showed up around noon. Brendon and Ryan were in the backyard smoking and Dru was the one to answer the door. The girl she opened it to was not the one she recognized from pictures. It was someone who had spent way too long crying and was hoping that no one would notice. Dru took the suitcase from her and pulled her in by the hand, then hugged her. They were both still in that position, crying, when the backdoor opened.

“Ryan.” Z breathed, letting her arms drop and wiping at her eyes before crossing the room to hug him and kiss him softly on the mouth. “How you doin’?”

He hugged her back, gently, as if she were made of glass. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled.

Brendon whispered something in Ryan’s ear that Dru couldn’t hear but the meaning was clear enough when the pair went upstairs, leaving Brendon and Dru alone in the living room. “You don’t think he’ll want to leave with her, do you?” the girl asked.

The boy shook his head. “He hasn’t saved you yet.”

“And then he’ll leave?”

Brendon’s voice was sad. “I don’t know, Dru. I hope not.” he added in a whisper she clearly wasn’t meant to hear.

“I don’t want him to either.”

They met in the middle of the living room, too much teeth and not enough lips, but it was quickly rectified. They stumbled out the kitchen because the living room was visible from Ryan’s doorway and they tried to be as quiet as possible while Brendon bent Dru over the counter.

Dru had barely managed to pull her shirt back on when they heard the footsteps on the stair. The front door opened and closed and when they saw Ryan on the stairs, the girl had a feeling Z had left in tears. Brendon pulled Ryan into a soft hug and Dru went outside to have a cigarette while the boy cried.

(maybe a waste of words & time; never a waste of life.)

Ryan slept for thirteen hours straight. Brendon and Dru took turns checking on him after the first three hours, every so often. He was always breathing. Sometimes it looked like there were dried tears on his cheeks. When Dru went upstairs to check on him the last time, she crawled into the bed beside him. He woke up and pressed his face into her chest, clinging to her desperately.

“How do I save you?”

She stroked his hair, trying to figure out what to say, not wanting to admit she’d been wondering the same question silently to herself and aloud with Brendon since he’d showed up on their doorstep. “I think,” she whispered finally, “that maybe you’re supposed to stay. Forever.”

Ryan looked up at her with amber eyes soaked in tears and blinked. Then he hiccupped. “Forever?”

“I think.” She ducked her head down and kissed him soft on the mouth. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Alice?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m hungry.”

(we’re all right where we’re supposed to be.)

Pete never called Brendon back like he said he would, but he came over one night around eleven and drank a beer with him. Dru was in Ryan’s room that night and she crept out to listen to them from the stairs. Pete was crying she thought. And if he wasn’t, he almost was. Or maybe he just wanted to.

“I didn’t mean to fuck him up again. I mean, it was so different that I didn’t even think about before until Dru called.”

“It’s not your fault.” Brendon was tired, but he tried to sound nice. Ryan had been particularly trying that day. He’d been insisting they were both hiding things from him and accusing Brendon of hiding “his Alice” and screaming at the top of his lungs for a fix.

“Easy for you to say. I’m the one who fucked him up both times. And the first time I was screwing him while you were dating him.” Pete swore and put his face in his hands. “You’re too damn nice for your own good, Brendon.”

Dru silently agreed.

“You couldn’t have slept with him unless he wanted to sleep with you.” The way the words came out, the girl was certain Brendon had said them multiple times before. Her boyfriend gave a strange sort of laugh. “He slept with Dru, too.”

Pete gave the same laugh and Dru couldn’t help but feel that it was a joke she would never understand because she hadn’t been around then. “No shit. Wouldn’t have called that one.” A cell phone went off and then she heard them both standing up. “I have to go. Patrick wants me home. I’m supposed to be picking up orange juice for Bronx.”

The boys both said good-bye to each other and the front door shut. Dru didn’t even move when she heard the footsteps. And Brendon didn’t even look angry. He just pulled her up and into his arms and kissed the top of her forehead. “I hate not knowing things.” she whispered.

“I know you do, baby.”

“I think I know how Ryan’s supposed to save Alice.”

Brendon started kissing her then, slipping his hand under the cotton of her night shirt. “You’re so pretty when you’re worrying about everyone else.”

And Dru wanted to talk. She didn’t really want to have sex. But Brendon was so tired and he’d taken the brunt of Ryan’s screaming earlier and she’d just sat in the bathroom and cried or cooked food, so she pushed her words down and let him push her down on the couch.

Afterward, when they were walking upstairs hand-in-hand to go their separate ways, he asked. “So, how does Ryan save Alice?”

Dru kissed him on the cheek. “I think that he stays with her and her boyfriend forever.”

Brendon smiled, but it was sad. “And what happens then?”

“I think they’re supposed to fall in love and live happily after.”

“Ryan and Alice?”

“All of them.”

(make a plan to love me sometime soon.)

The next morning Dru got up and made blueberry French toast for breakfast. She and Brendon watched reruns of Top Chef on DVR and then he went to check on Ryan at noon. Ryan was gone. Brendon left in the car to undertake the impossible task of trying to locate him in the expanse that was L.A. He told Dru to stay home and call everyone she could think of.

Two hours later, Ryan came in through in the front door. When Dru started screaming, he told her he just went for a walk and when she asked if he was high, he wouldn't meet her eyes. She slapped him and pushed him on the couch and he started to cry while she called Brendon and told him to come home.

“I don’t let selfish little boys save me.” she hissed, lighting a cigarette in the living room even though she and Brendon didn’t allow smoking in the house (except pot). She was not going to leave him alone again so he could sneak out through the window.

Ryan cried harder and started rubbing at the insides of his elbows again. “Why are you so mean?”

“Why are you such a selfish little bastard? Why do you have to hurt everyone that cares about you? Why are you so fucking stupid?” And Dru was surprised at the way the words just flew from her mouth, like they’d been there all along (and maybe they had). “Brendon loves you. I love you. Why won’t you let us love you?”

Ryan just cried and wiped at his nose with his sleeve.

When Brendon got home, he didn’t say a word. He just pulled Ryan into his arms and hugged him so tightly he swore he could hear the other boy’s bones creak. And Dru felt like the bad parent for screaming so she went to the basement with a joint and locked the door behind her.

(i keep my door locked when i’m writing for you.)

“I know you were mad.” Brendon said softly. “I know how difficult it is to deal with him.”

Dru was pacing. She was in the backyard with a cigarette in her hand, pacing. She wanted to pull her hair out, but it was painful and messy and took time to grow back, so she was pacing instead. “Has he always been like that? Just . . . fucking using people and taking what they have and sapping them dry and just . . . fucking them over like that?”

“No.” Brendon shook his head. “Not this bad. It’s the drugs, Dru. He’s withdrawing.”

“I want to kill him and kiss him at the same time.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

The girl started to crying then and she let Brendon wrap his arms around her and put her cigarette out. “We’ll get through this.” he promised. “We’ll figure everything out.”

“And if we can’t fix him?”

Brendon didn’t answer, just squeezed her tighter. He slept in Ryan’s room that night where the boy whispered over and over about how scared he was that Alice hated him.

Dru tossed and turned for a few hours before getting up and spending the rest of the night in the living room, scribbling words into a journal she’d had for a few years and drinking her way through six cans of soda. She had to pee like a racehorse when her hand hurt too much to keep writing.

(hey, the chorus song, doesn’t it go slow now?)

The next morning Ryan crept downstairs before Brendon and curled up next to Dru on the couch where she had fallen asleep watching the History channel. He gently brushed the hair out of her face and told her stories that didn’t make sense in a whisper. When Brendon got up, he carried Dru upstairs to bed where Ryan helped tuck her in and kissed her on the forehead after Brendon kissed her on the mouth.

Then the two boys went downstairs and had bowls of cereal and cappuccino from little paper packets that someone had bought on clearance. “She doesn’t hate you.” Brendon told the boy. “She just gets lost in her head sometimes, like you.”

Ryan felt a little better at that because he knew he didn’t hold grudges very long. “You’ll come with us when we go to Wonderland right, Bren?”

The younger boy hesitated. “If you go to Wonderland, I’ll go.”

“How long have you been dating her?”

Brendon thought, calculating in his head. “A year and seven months.”

“How’d you meet her?”

He smiled. It was cute, Ryan’s curiosity. And he wasn’t scratching at his elbows. “Will. He met her, I guess, and he brought her to a party.”

“Do you love her?”

“Like a madman.”

Ryan smiled and reached for the remote.

(it’s coming together in relative ways.)

Dru woke up a little after one and, after emptying her bladder, stumbled downstairs to grab a soda and something to munch on from the cupboard. Ryan and Brendon were curled up in the cutest way on the coach and Lilo and Stitch was apparently playing on the Disney channel. “Come watch with us, Dru.” Brendon said in that cute little voice he had sometimes.

She grunted, still a little too tired to function, but sat down next to him on the couch after she had a soda can and a couple Fruit Roll-ups clutched in her hands. Brendon had one arm around Dru and one hand in Ryan’s lap, clutched tightly between both of the other boy’s. When the credits began to roll, he kissed both of them on the cheek.

“Why don’t we go out for dinner?” he suggested, voice almost too-happy. Dru had a sneaking suspicion that the bong had been taken out of the closet before she woke up.

Ryan didn’t look too thrilled with the suggestion, but he looked too scared to say anything. Like he didn’t want to be the one to crack Brendon’s good mood.

“Where were you thinking, babe?” the girl asked slowly.

“I don’t know.” Brendon stretched, a cute little noise make it’s way out of the back of his throat. “Nothing fancy. Maybe that Chinese place with the really good pot stickers?”

Ryan seemed a little more at ease with the idea when that was said so Dru smiled and nuzzled her face into Brendon’s neck. “Sounds good. I need to shower though.”

While she was getting dressed in the bathroom after her shower, the girl heard giggles from Ryan’s room and little breathy moans. When she emerged, however, all she found was the two boys in the middle of a tickle fight.

One day soon, this is all going to be as natural as dirt.

(we fight like we love & we love like we fight.)

About a week later, things were running much more smoothly. Ryan hadn’t snuck out. He went with them to run errands once in awhile. Dru and Brendon got to sleep in bed together for the first time since he’d arrived. And one night all three of them slept in the same bed. The screaming and the crying had decreased substantially and Ryan stopped scratching at his elbows (at least that Dru noticed).

Brendon asked Dru to take a check over to an address on a Tuesday afternoon. “Ryan’s rent is due.” he explained. “I don’t know when we’re going to move his stuff over here yet, but his rent needs paid.”

The girl stared at him. “So . . . you and Ryan talked about him moving in?”

Brendon nodded.

She frowned. “And you didn’t include me in the conversation?”

He frowned at her frown. “It just came up one night.”

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” she asked, clearly hurt as she put the check in her wallet.

“I thought you wanted him to stay.” Brendon protested.

“You could have told me.”

He huffed. “Don’t be a drama queen. I didn’t think it was a big deal. You said you wanted him to stay. He’s staying.”

Dru didn’t say another word as she picked up her car keys and disappeared out the front door.

Ryan appeared once she had gone, fixing his amber eyes on Brendon’s face. “You shouldn’t have said that.” he told the other boy softly.

And, for the first time since the entire incident had begun, Ryan held Brendon while he cried.

(& what it all boils down to is that no one‘s really got it figured out just yet.)

When Dru came back from dropping off the check, Ryan was the one waiting for her. He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Brendon’s sorry. He’s sleeping right now.”

And the girl cried, letting Ryan lead her over to the couch where he could better situate her in his arms, and let her plant desperate, feverish kisses to his mouth and neck. When their bodies joined, she saw the world disappearing into an oil painting of soft colors. Ryan saw birds and sharp corners and traffic lights, beautiful city-inspired photographs. He let her fall asleep next to him, both of their bodies unclothes under the blanket.

When Brendon came downstairs, he took in the entire scene without a word and carried the girl upstairs, tucking her into their bed and watching her sleep for a good half hour before he went back down. Ryan was dressed and on the back porch, smoking a cigarette while the dogs played in the grass.

“So what are we?” the younger asked when he came out. “Dru has a word for this, but I want to know what you think.”

“I think it’s stupid to waste words when they don’t matter.” Ryan answered, not looking at Brendon. He would watch the sky and then lower his eyes to the dogs and then maybe to the fence. “It is what it is.”

“Do you love her?” Brendon asked with the faintest taste of déjà vu.

Ryan nodded. “But not the way you do. It’s different. You love Dru. I love Alice.”

Brendon took a deep breath and then reached out, grabbing Ryan’s arm, turning the boy to face him. One hand gently cupping his cheek, the other resting on his heart. His voice was soft, his breathing heavy. Ryan held his cigarette at his side. “She’s not really Alice, you know. Not that way. It’s . . . it’s a metaphorical way.”

Ryan nodded. “I know, Bren.” He kissed the other boy on the lips and then spoke again. “It’s always been a metaphor.”

Brendon nodded and dropped his hands and they both turned to stare at the dogs fighting over a piece of bark by one of the flower beds.

(when i lie here with you i’m sure that i’m real.)

The last of the stuff that they didn’t need to move into the house was in storage. The last box was unpacked. The doorway that they’d hired the contractor to build that would connect the two rooms was finished. Brendon was teaching Ryan the chords to one of the songs that was going to be on the new Panic album that spring. Dru was feeding the dogs.

Z and Ryan were officially broken up now. Dru had walked the girl to her car and she’d stared at Dru with tears in her eyes. ‘I always knew, you know, that it wouldn’t last. He’s always been Brendon’s. I was just . . . a stopping point, I guess. But I fell in love with him anyway. Stupid me.’ Dru had hugged her and given her a tissue.

Spencer had come over and he and Ryan had talked for a few hours with Dru and Brendon desperately trying to listen through the door and not managing to hear a damn thing. But apparently it was fine now because Spencer was coming over later to barbecue with them.

Pete had been over a few times and Ryan had hugged him and promised it wasn’t his fault. If anything, it had been good because now he was back with Brendon and with Dru (whom he still called Alice about half the time) and he was going to be in Panic again at the end of the year, once he had learned all the songs and had been off the cocaine for six months.

They still fought. Brendon still got angry and said things he didn’t mean and sometimes Ryan was rude and inconsiderate and Dru could always say something that sounded so much different in her head that it did out loud. They weren’t perfect. But they were wonderland.