TW FOR THIS CHAPTER: Mentions of past violence and a past suicide attempt. Please stay safe. I will add a recap in bold letters at the end of the chapter for those who don't want to read the content. Please be safe.

Also: I'm thinking of doing a book of oneshots (Ryden) after this fic is over. Thoughts?

***

I'm sitting in my room, writing in my English Journal. We're supposed to write about one we find dear to us, and so far, I'm doing terribly. I can't just... sum Brendon up into writing. It doesn't matter if the most talented poet in the world wrote a book about him. It wouldn't be enough. Not for him.

The door opens, and I turn, expecting to see a drunk Jac or maybe even a horny Gabe (it's happened before) but to my surprise, it's neither.

It's a tearful Brendon.

I blink. He's back early. Two days early, and he's crying.

"Brendon?"

"Ryan."

A dull monotone. So unlike his soft, childish voice, or even the silky, slutty voice he uses on occasion. Scarily different. I want to stand, to wrap my arms around him and kiss away every single tear, to let him tremble in my arms. It's a primitive urge, to protect and hold and care. It's hard to shake it off.

"How was the trip?" I ask, my hands shaking, wanting to touch Brendon, to card through his hair and kiss his temples.

"Enlightening." Brendon mumbles. I frown. "How so?"

"I learned a lot about my parents. And about what's right and wron

g. How to be a good, God-Fearing Christian."

"A what?!" I ask, snorting incredulously. I expect Brendon to laugh along with me, to roll his big eyes and call his family crazy. Brendon isn't God-Fearing. Brendon does believe that there's a God, but from what I remember of the conversation (we were both pretty high) he had said he believed more in an entity that 'loved freely' and 'didn't judge'.

But he doesn't laugh, just... looks at me.

"A God-Fearing Christian." He repeats. I scoff.

"You're joking, right?" I ask, and Brendon heaves a sigh. "I don't know, anymore. My family... they just... they fuck everything up. My moral values, confidence, mindset, they take it and leave me stripped bare." He mumbles, eyes welling up even more. My stomach drops.

Here's the thing: Brendon has always looked beautiful when he's sad. He's still when he gets upset, perfectly so. A change from normal life, where there's constant movement. His skin pales, letting every freckle and beauty mark show up in high definition, and his eyes fill with water, making the size of them grow and the color almost... glow. His lips pout outwards, and tears cling to his lashes, making them dewy and dark.

In conclusion, Brendon is beautiful all of the time. It's obvious: he's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on. And I love him with all of my heart, every cell filled with keening want and practical adoration.

But when he's sad.. he looks stunning. Like a Greek God, glowing gently. Seeing Brendon in pain hurts me, infinitely. But from pain comes beauty. Phoenix from the ashes. Pearl from oyster. Diamond in the rough. When Brendon is sad, is hurting, I want to swallow him in my arms and keep him away from everything. I want to kiss his lips, sweet and soft and chaste. But most of all, I want him to want me. God, I want him to want me.

It takes all of my willpower not to surge forward and kiss him. To make him mine.

But he's not mine. Never will be.

Fuck, it hurts to admit that to myself.

But he's one of my best friends. He'd be there for me, if I was hurting. If I can't love him, can't make him light up under my gentle caresses and soft touches, then I'll be his friend.

Nothing could mean more to me than having Brendon, loving Brendon.

But I can't have him.

But I can help him.

So I walk over to him, and carefully help him settle down on his bed. We're silent for a moment, our breathing slowing as we both calm each other down wordlessly. I'm calming down just by his mere presence. His smell, his eyes, his everything, they slow my breathing. I don't know why he's cooling down. Brendon is hard to soothe. Normally I'd need to pass him ADHD meds or a joint if he was hyper, or sing and rock him in my arms if he was sad.

"I never told you about the Urie family, did I?" He whispers, and I shake my head. No, Brendon never has. I've briefly explained my situation to him, and Brendon was understanding. But I've never heard about his, and in the moment, I feel horribly, horribly selfish.

"It's a shitty story. A shitty story." He says, staring at the ground. "Hah. Alliteration."

I lean forward, the pads of my fingers skimming across his jaw. I gently turn his head to face mine. "Brendon, focus." I say, my voice caring but also stern, commanding. To my surprise, Brendon seems to respond well. His pupils dilate, and his lips part slightly.

Fucking beautiful.

"Um." He says, and his voice is an octave lower. "Um. Urie Family." He whispers, and then he realizes how close we are and wretches away, his gaze wild and confused, like a trapped animal. I frown as he scoots away.

"Urie Family." He repeats, and now he seems focused, upset again, but focused. "The Urie family consists of six people. Gwen, Matt, Adam, Brendon, Laura, and David." He lists slowly, wincing on the last name. "Matt and Gwen are my sisters. Adam is my brother. They're both older, Gwen and Adam are twins, they're 32. Matt, she's 20."

I nod slowly. "I hadn't seen them since I came to this fucking school." He whispers, shaking his head, and I frown. "You hadn't seen them in... years?"

"Yeah. I stayed at school for every break, and over the summer I'd do extra courses here, or go to Europe. It cost money, but... to my family, it was a small price to pay." He says, looking heartbroken. A stormcloud is hovering over my head. How could anyone just make Brendon feel... unwanted like that?

"Matt is at Harvard, getting her degree in law. Adam is a surgeon, and Gwen is the Art Director for Cosmopolitan. My father is a lawyer for celebrities, and my mom stays at home and focuses on being pretty." He says, snorting at the last part. I don't find it funny.

"My parents adore my siblings. As kids, they did nothing wrong. Gwen and Adam were fucking assholes about it, growing up. My parents compared 5 year old me to my 18 year old siblings. And they loved the attention, the approval." He says in a mocking tone. "I never got attention or approval. Matt was more chill, was sweeter and not as snobby. But even she had her moments."

I nod, letting Brendon continue. And continue he does.

"My family was normal, despite the money. We aren't billionaires, but we aren't exactly lower-middle class. Wealthy, but no mansion or fancy cars, basically." Brendon mumbles, shrugging. "We were normal. Overly normal. Housewife mother, working father, four kids, a minivan and golden retriever. All-American." Brendon says, laughing wildly. "Hah!"

"No, we were normal on the outside," Brendon continues, shaking his head, "But inside? Eh. I was the black sheep. My parents expect perfection. Good grades, a clean reputation, perfect attitude, and most of all.... heterosexuality."

I laugh despite myself, and Brendon laughs too. "No, seriously! They're fag-haters!" He exclaims, and we collapse into giggles. "I was a fag-hater." Brendon says suddenly, his tone solem.

I stop laughing.

"They wanted a perfect family. Matt, Adam, and Gwen... they were perfect. I wasn't." He says, and his face is sad now. "I'm not perfect." He mumbles, clenching his eyes shut.

"My dad didn't understand. They got me on meds for ADHD. Made me tired, unable to preform well socially or in school. My parents didn't like that. My dad wanted good grades so I could go to college and become a lawyer or doctor, 'the only two acceptable jobs for a man', in his eyes. My mother is nothing without mimosas and her other housewife friends, she constantly had social gatherings where she showed the kids off. Adam and Gwen inherited my dad's looks, and he's attractive enough, but my mom... she's beautiful. Or was, before she started using botox." Brendon says maliciously, and I bite my lip. Of course she's beautiful. It's Brendon's mom.

"But anyway. Adam and Gwen were paraded around, Gwen showing off art projects and Adam doing complex math problems. Matt is both, stunning and smart. She was the star. I was the baby, kind of attractive but mostly there to be doted upon. Off my meds, I was lively and sweet and bouncy. On them, I was dreary and could barely stay awake. My parents thought I was too feminine to be attractive, which they're right about, so I was useless. Both of them demanded to have me taken off meds." He says, and I sigh. "Well, at least they cared."

Brendon scoffs. "They did it to suit their own needs. They could care less if I was on meds. I was doped up, subdued. Sure, I was allowed to be myself at parties. But my mother had no patience for my energy when the doors were closed. If I was able to be sociable in gatherings, and then quiet once alone, they would have kept me on the medicine. Ditto with grades."

I want to punch a wall. I can't imagine not wanting Brendon, wanting him lax and drugged out of his mind. Malleable.

What is wrong with these people?! I'm not sure if I want to hear any more, but Brendon just keeps on going.

"I was a fuckup, after the meds. I was back to myself, finally, after 7 years of being this puppet, practically. I was maybe 11. Or 10. But I was so drunk on freedom, on being able to be a kid. I would get in trouble at school. Accidentally curse or scrape my knee skateboarding. My dad didn't like that. He couldn't try medicine again, so... he found another way to subdue me."

I want to vomit. God, no. No. I know what he's going to say, and I can't bear it. And sure enough...

"He hit me. Every little bad grade or flash of attitude, and he'd mark me up. All over my ribs, my thighs, my chest. My arms and face were always spared: Perfect Brendon couldn't have any signs of domestic fucking abuse on him!" He snaps, bursting into tears. I don't think, I just grab Brendon and let him cry in my arms.

"M-M-My mom..." He starts, sniffling, and I just hold him tighter. "She cleaned me u-up, after he'd do it. Ice the bruises, bandage any cuts. But while she did it, she'd tell me it was my fault. That I just needed to be better. And I believed her. This went on for two years."

My hands automatically fist Brendon's hair, and he cries out in pain.

Two years.

Two years.

I let go of the locks. Breathe in and out.

"Go on." I murmur.

"One day, I was... doing my thing." He starts, and I frown.

"Your thing?"

"Um. Masturbating."

"Oh."

"Yeah." He whispers. "A-And I left the magazine out. Playgirl." He says, laughing. "It's the male version of Playboy. Intended for girls, but. Gay guys read it. And it was out on my bed, fucking covered in semen and there was a bottle of lube there and... when I came back my parents were staring at it, staring at it like it was this disgusting, filthy thing. I still remember the photo. The guy was on top of a girl, looked like he was about to fuck her. She had wavy black hair, and her eyes were half lidded... but they were dark brown. She had these full lips, and a slightly crooked nose."

"Oh." I mumble, understanding instantly.

"Yeah. She looked like the girl version of me. And there was fucking come splattered across the pages, and the pages of the magazine were stuck together, and my room had always smelled like jizz, something my parents had normally ignored. Boys will be boys, they probably thought. It became a problem when they realized that their boy was beating off to another boy."

"Well. My dad went off. Told me that I was a sinner, an abomination. I expected smacks, slaps and punches. They didn't come. Instead he just called names, saying that I was a pansy, a sodomite, a faggot. I just stood there, taking it. Before he left, he leaned in close, his lips all pressed to my ear and his hands on my shoulders, he had me in a fucking iron grip. And the only thing he said to me was one word: "Slut."

I blink, my face heating up. Oh. Oh, no.

"At least I don't look like a fucking slut." I growl, and Brendon's face goes blank. No warning, the animated smile that had been there, mixed with slight concern, probably because I was glaring at him, melts away, leaving almost empty eyes and parted lips. He takes a deep breath, and it shakes. Lauren's eyes widen, and she glares at me, her gaze full of fury. "Hey, hey, B, it's okay." She murmurs, but Brendon still looks absolutely horrified, and goddamn, why does he look like that?

"At least I don't look like a fucking slut." I breathe, and and Brendon nods. "Yeah."

The one word, one syllable, says it all.

"I expected my mom to... hug me. To call me a freak but comfort me simultaneously. But she just stared, and walked away. I had never felt so fucking alone, and I was just a kid, only 13, and I... I didn't know what to do!" He cries, and I want to cry too, I want to cry because Brendon doesn't deserve this.

"My mom was on painkillers, because of a surgery she had had. It was intense, and they had her on a bunch of strong shit. So I went into the bathroom, dumped them all onto the counter, turned the tap on, and--"

"Don't." I choke. "Don't. Stop."

Brendon stops.

"And when I woke up, I was on a hospital bed. No one was there, except my dad. And all he did... all he did was lean in and he told me that I was being sent away. That I was a slut, and that 'sluts didn't fucking live with the Urie family'. I excepted it to be some beat-the-gay out of you camp, but it was here. And I made friends. Gained confidence, fucking put up mental walls and oozed charm and sex appeal. My childhood best friend came too, by choice. One night, we were drinking. It was my first time. I still remember what happened... I turned to face her, and I was shaking, two beers in. What a lightweight. But I just sighed, and stared at her, and said 'I'm gay.'"

"You mean bisexual, right?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Brendon bites his lip.

"No. I mean gay."

"But, what about Lauren?!" I ask, and Brendon snorts. "Lauren was the best friend. Ryan, I was never dating her!"

I cock my head, frowning. "Why did you lie?" I ask, and Brendon hesitates.

"I was in denial?" He says hesitantly.

"Bullshit."

"Okay, okay, fine. I was in denial. But not about my sexuality. I was trying to make this guy I like... that I love, actually, jealous."

My insides seem to shrivel up.

"Oh." I say flatly. "Who is he?"

Brendon blinks. "What?!" He asks, flushing slightly.

"Who is the guy?"

Brendon blinks again, a half smile on his face. "You're joking, right?"

I frown. "Um. No?"

Brendon closes his eyes. "Uh. It's... Spencer." He says finally, and jealousy bubbles up in my gut.

"Smith?"

"Yeah, Spencer Smith." Brendon says, his tone flat, disbelieving. "Loved him since I was 14, I have. My soulmate, I'm convinced. Perfect fucking hair and caramel eyes and soft voice and killer fucking smile, and oh, god, I love how narrow his frame is and how he towers over me and how he fucking makes me feel safe and perfect and so, so happy. He's the only fucking one for me, that Spencer Smith!" He hisses.

"Aren't you two the same height?" I ask dumbly. Spencer Smith. My secret competition.

"Oh, yeah." Brendon says, pursing his lips. "Silly me."

I walk over to Brendon's desk, scanning the photos. No family photos, except for a younger looking Brendon with a slightly older looking girl. Brendon has glasses and braces, and looks goofy but still beautiful. The girl is pretty. Brendon is prettier. But that's not what I'm looking for...

I spot it then, a photo of Lauren, Brendon, Spencer, and... Jac?! Huh. But it makes sense: Jac was super cold to Brendon the first time I mentioned him.

I stare at her. "Yeah, I know. My roommate Brendon went last night, and he came back high off his ass." I say flatly, and her big eyes widen. "Brendon... Urie? The fag? Hah, he's friends with Gabe Saporta and William Beckett. They're stoners, all three of them. No wonder he was high. Sucks you had to get roomed with a cock-sucker." She says, talking at rapid-fire speed. I don't know her well, but she's always talking a mile a minute when I see her, hopping from topic to topic.

"I don't know, Brendon! All I know is I'm going to hang out with Jac Vanek and she's cute, and flirted with me." I snapped, and Brendon froze. "Jac Vanek? She asked you out?" He said, looking horrified, and I nodded.

She tastes like vodka and smells like floral perfume, and I pull her into my lap, my breathing uneven. After a few minutes of kissing, she pulls away, resting her forehead against mine. "Fuck." She says simply, and I laugh, looking up and around the room, luxuriating in the feeling of Jac sitting in my lap. Suddenly, my gaze falls upon a blank faced Brendon Urie, who is standing across the room, staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable.

Huh. Guess they knew each other, somehow. I'll have to ask her later. I focus on the photo. They all look young: maybe freshmen? Lauren and Jac are both clinging to Brendon, who looks high out of his mind. He's giving the camera a ridiculous grin, and Spencer is laughing, toasting the photographer with a solo cup. It doesn't seem romantic. Then again... it's Brendon.

I move my gaze to another photo. Gabe, Spencer, Brendon, and Jon Walker. Much to my surprise, Brendon is on Gabe's back. They're beaming, and Brendon and Spencer are looking at each other. It seems... friendly. Brendon isn't shooting Spencer any wistful glances and his pupils aren't blown, a sure sign that he's turned on.

Wait.

I lean forward, the pads of my fingers skimming across his jaw. I gently turn his head to face mine. "Brendon, focus." I say, my voice caring but also stern, commanding. To my surprise, Brendon seems to respond well. His pupils dilate, and his lips part slightly.

Could Brendon...? No.

I glance at the photo again.

Spencer has blue eyes. Spencer doesn't have a narrow build. His hair is brown, but it isn't dark. Not like....

I slowly turn to him. "Brendon." I breathe, and I must look obviously stunned, because Brendon grins, crossing the room and leaning forward, his lips meeting mine.

I melt into the kiss, and for a minute, we stand there, making out, before I slowly pull away. "We can't." I say quietly, shaking my head. Brendon stares.

"Why not?!"

I pout. "Brenny.. I can't get in the way of you two."

Brendon blinks. "What?!"

"Look, I may look like him, and I see why you kissed me at the concert, but... I can't be a stand in for Gabe just because we look similar. You need to tell him how you feel."

Brendon's mouth drops open, and his lips are sublime, full and pink and pretty. Why do I have to be such a good person!?

"Ryan--I don't--" Brendon starts, but I hush him, patting his head. "Shh. It's okay. Gabe is really awesome, and I'm sure he'd be into you."

"I don't--"

"Don't deny your feelings!"

Brendon just sighs, looking defeated, and I need to support him, make this easier for him.

"I know you're trying to use me as a substitute, so I'll make it easier." I say hurriedly. "I don't like you like that, B. And you aren't my type. Blondes are more my thing. You're not attractive to me." I say, beaming. Brendon just looks more distraught.

"There! Now you won't be tempted to be with me!" I say, but my heart is cracking in two. I gulp. Brendon deserves this. He deserves to love Gabe.

"So.. you don't like me?" He says finally, and I nod. "Nope! You're so not-attractive in my eyes that you almost make me gag!"

Brendon exhales. "Okay. Um, good to know." He says, looking away. I smile awkwardly.

"I have to... go admit my feelings to Gabe now." Brendon says, standing almost robotically. I watch silently as he leaves, hips swaying.

I'm such a Good Samaritan.

So how come I feel so bad?

***

Oh, Ryan. You're so clueless. I'm happy and sad to announce that I'm wrapping this story up soon! However, there's plenty of secrets, romance, and drama to go around. I'll give a few hints, or things to think about. If you're here for the recap because you didn't want to read the chapter, it'll be below this, underlined.

1.) Brendon and Jac did know each other before Ryan came into the picture. But how?! (Remember, Folks: Brendon is gay. They couldn't have dated, so try thinking outside the box.)

2.) Ryan still doesn't remember the Halloween Dance. How is that gonna work out?

3.) Brendon came home early, in tears. Although he told his history BEFORE coming to school, he never mentioned why he was so upset, or why he was back early. Must have slipped Ryan's mind.

4.) Jac mentioned that she had feelings for someone dark haired... who?

5.) And finally, although this was never actually left as a clue... Brendon has yet another secret, and trust me: you won't see it coming.

Thanks for reading.

RECAP: Brendon comes back from break two days early, crying. Ryan is confused, and strangely attracted to him when he's upset. However, he (mentally) comes to terms with the fact that Brendon is hurting and needs a friend. He sits Brendon down, and asks what's wrong. Brendon begins to talk about the Urie family, and explains that he was never able to measure up to his siblings, Matt (F20), Gwen and Adam (F32 and M32, respectively). His parents, Housewife Laura and Lawyer David, were fed up. They tried putting him on ADHD meds to no avail, and once the medicine didn't work, David began hitting Brendon to subdue him. One day, when Brendon was 13, his parents discovered he was gay and flipped out, leaving Brendon alone and upset, with David's last words to Brendon ringing in his ears, "You're a slut." Present Day Ryan realizes that this is why Brendon had an adverse reaction to the slur in Chapter Six. Long story short, young Brendon attempted suicide. When he woke, his father told him that he was being sent to the school, where Brendon came to terms with his identity. He admits to Ryan that he's gay, and that Lauren and him were never dating. Ryan asks why he lied, and Brendon hesitates, saying that he was in love with someone. Ryan asked who, because he's a clueless fucking idiot. Brendon was surprised, expecting Ryan to realize that BRENDON LOVES HIM, and because of the shock, he lost his nerve, saying that he was in love with Spencer Smith and freaking out, saying he loved Spencer because of his 'brown hair, dark eyes, and how he towers over me'. It was a lot more romantic in the chapter, trust me. Anyway. Ryan fails to realize that Brendon is describing him, instead looking at a photo of Gabe, Jac, Brendon, and Spencer. He's startled, realizing that JAC is there. He briefly realizes that they must have known each other prior to Ryan starting at the school, which is a shock to him, because it was never mentioned. He then realizes that the description doesn't match Spencer... but instead of concluding that Brendon loves HIM, he thinks Brendon loves Gabe. Brendon sees him gasp, and thinking that Ryan figures out the truth, he kisses him. Ryan pushes Brendon away, saying that Brendon needs to 'admit his feelings' to Gabe, and saying that 'he's not attracted to Brendon', thinking that it'll make Brendon want Gabe more. Brendon just leaves the room, stunned, and Ryan mentally pats himself on the back for being a 'good friend.'