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Post by Brendon Urie on Apr 26, 2011 6:51:40 GMT -5
"There never is..." I said, still staring into nothingness.
I hadn't noticed William's gestures, I was absent minded and frustrating, and I didn't really care.
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Post by William Beckett on Apr 27, 2011 4:58:19 GMT -5
I rolled my eyes at him. "Brendon. Sit down. Fuck. If you're keeping me here, don't make me die of boredom."
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Post by Brendon Urie on Apr 27, 2011 5:27:41 GMT -5
"Fine." I mumbled, throwing myself down on the couch. "I've got my guitar here if you want to jam."
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Post by William Beckett on Apr 27, 2011 5:29:50 GMT -5
"I...I guess..." I blushed. The last time I'd written anything new was, well, far too long ago. I used to be able to pick up a guitar and almost make up something new on the spot. People grew to expect it in our jam sessions. Now, though... I couldn't even string together a sentence half the time.
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Post by Brendon Urie on Apr 27, 2011 5:32:31 GMT -5
I walked to the kitchenette and got my acoustic Gibson from it's case, making sure it was in tune.
"Do you want to play or sing?"
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Post by William Beckett on Apr 27, 2011 5:53:12 GMT -5
"I'll, I'll just sing. Yeah. Um... Yeah."
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Post by Brendon Urie on Apr 27, 2011 7:00:48 GMT -5
With a doubtful look, I started strumming "Everything We Had", having had the delightful experience of Mike Carden teach me. I hoped William would sing and remember the lyrics.
He was sounding so self doubtful, and even though that's when you do your best, there's a risk you give up on your talents, and I think he'd fallen through the cracks.
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Post by William Beckett on Apr 28, 2011 1:42:51 GMT -5
He chose one of two songs I could still remember perfectly. It was humiliating when I was on stage, and had to turn the microphone on the crowd to cover when I'd forgotten the lyrics. But not this one. Never this one.
I choked back a small sob as I began to sing.
"You were the only face I'd ever known..."
I got as far as to say, "And I am no gentlemen, I can be a prick," before the tears were streaming obviously down my face. Because of him, always him, remembering that perfect time we'd spent together when I was just his little fan boy, when we had sung our first song together, before I'd disappeared in his eyes. Before his love of me had mutated and become his love of her. Before I became invisible, imperfect and incomplete.
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Post by Brendon Urie on Apr 28, 2011 1:55:41 GMT -5
"Will, william? Come on.."
I fetched a box of tissues, just pulling two out and drying under his eyes. "It'll be okay... He'll come around.." I never was good at comforting people, not even myself, and seeing one of my close friends cry just cracked my heart into little shards of nothingness.
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Post by William Beckett on Apr 28, 2011 3:06:08 GMT -5
I just shook my head, sobbing. I struggled to keep my breathing even and I began again, I sang again. I just kept going, because I had to, I had to finish the song or I'd be like this all day, a blubbering wreck. This is why I never left my walk in wardrobe anymore. I just sat there and sang. Hummed. Anything. Just the same two songs, and I struggled through them, day after day. Waiting for the day he called and I could sing something else again.
I missed talking about the way five years had disappeared.
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Post by Brendon Urie on Apr 28, 2011 3:12:43 GMT -5
Watching William, I almost reached for my phone, until I realised that I didn't know who to call. I didn't want to break him anymore. I wanted to glue him back together, and go back in time to when this didn't exist.
"Do, do you want to lay down.. or... for me to keep.. keep playing?"
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Post by William Beckett on Apr 28, 2011 3:15:51 GMT -5
I looked up at Brendon. "I just, I just need to finish."
"Thanks," I whispered, not willing to admit I was glad to see him there.
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Post by Brendon Urie on Apr 28, 2011 3:24:47 GMT -5
I started to cry, not with the heavy breathing, but just the tears.
Not sure whether or not to play, I strummed quietly so only he and I could hear it.
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Post by William Beckett on Apr 28, 2011 3:50:14 GMT -5
As I murmured so quietly I could barely hear myself, I stared straight past Brendon. "Take the pain out of love," my reath hitched for a miment before I could finish the line, "and the love won't exist."
As I finished the last note, I looked down at my arms and saw how my nails had dug into the skin. They were bleeding a little, even. I didn't usually get this bad, I'd just cut myself off for a while. Let the phone ring out, because I didn't hear his ring. Sometimes I'd even end up on a binge and purge cycle, on a bad day. The songs weren't usually this triggering though, not quite.
Maybe I'd just forgotten what it was like to play with just the acoustic guitar.
{I'm just saying, since this is sort of but not quite AU, in this universe I'm thinking of it as Cobra and TAI never toured together, William was a Midtown fanboy and did the original Cobra super group and that's all, so as not to over complicate the plot, aha}
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Post by Brendon Urie on Apr 28, 2011 4:03:38 GMT -5
I stopped playing, giving up because William was barely audible. I really didn't know what to do, I wanted to help, but I would make it worse every time.
"Should I call... y'know, Pete or someone? Will they help more than I do?"
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