17. celebration (noun) - the action of marking one's pleasure at an important event or occasion by engaging in enjoyable, typically social, activity.

Trigger Warnings
//
Mention of death/dying
Funeral

"This doesn't feel real," Ryan whispered as he fixed his tie in the mirror of Brendon's bedroom, his broken hand making it incredibly difficult. "I already went to one funeral for this same damn thing, I thought I'd never have to do it again. How many times in my life am I going to mourn the loss of a friend, and—" He sighed, frustrated. "Brendon, could you help me, please?"

Brendon rushes from the bathroom to where Ryan was standing, hurriedly fastening his cufflinks before reaching the younger male. "Hush, baby," he whispered gently. "No need for frustrations." He smiled softly, taking Ryan's tie in his hands and looping it together to form the knot. "Just think," he said sincerely, tightening the knot to finish, "today may be hard, but you'll never have to repeat this day ever again. Once it's over, it's over."

Ryan smiled a watery smile as Brendon presses his lips softly to his forehead. "I love you, Bren."

Brendon smiled wider. "I love you so much, Ryan Ross. More than I'll ever be able to tell you."

Ryan smiled despite the sinking feeling in his chest for what the rest of the day was to bring. He woke up early that morning, much earlier than needed, and spent the morning dragging out his preparation process for Patty's funeral. He didn't want to believe it was real, so the more he drug it out, the less real it felt. "I'm scared, Bren," he whispered, still looking in the mirror.

"What are you afraid of?" Brendon's tone was genuinely curious, something Ryan appreciated about him.

"I feel like his family blames me for what happened," he admitted quietly, tie wringing in his hands. "I don't know if I can face them."

Brendon sighed understandingly. "Patty's family - especially his sister - are a lot like him," he says as he walks up behind Ryan and puts his hands on his shoulders. "They do not lay the blame anywhere near you. All you were doing was riding in the taxi with him. They know it isn't your fault."

Ryan nodded, turning his head to look at the alarm on Brendon's beside table. "We should go," he said softly. "We don't want to be late."

Brendon nodded, taking Ryan's hand in his as he grabbed his keys off of his dresser. "I'll be by your side the whole time, my love."

Ryan smiled. "I know."

* * *

Ryan has been to a few funerals, but not very many. His grandmother died when he was a boy, so he didn't remember much of that funeral, except that it was the only time he'd ever seen his dad cry. A work friend of his mom's died a few years later, and then, of course, there was Adam's funeral. He knew from experience and from instinct that funerals were supposed to be sad, and full of tears and wails and laments from the family and friends of the deceased.

This, however, felt more like a birthday party than a funeral.

A group of people with semi-pale skin and pale blue eyes stood in the greeting area of the funeral home, helping Ryan to deduce that they had to be Patty's family. A woman about Ryan's age - perhaps a few years older - standing off to the side of who appeared to be Patty's parents had to be his sister. This girl was one of those naturally beautiful women, with shoulder length blonde hair and a smile that almost identically mimicked her brother's. She had a petite nose and crystal blue eyes that didn't depict sadness, but more.. comfortable nostalgia.

"Brendon," Ryan whispered softly as they made their way through the entrance and closer to the family.

"What is it, my love?"

Ryan swallowed. "Why isn't anyone sad?"

Brendon laughed softly, hand squeezing Ryan's. "You want people to be sad?"

Ryan scoffed softly. "No," he answered. "I don't want anyone to be sad. But.. It's a funeral, Bren. Funerals are supposed to be sad and full of people in absolute despair at losing someone."

Brendon smiles gently, but doesn't have time to answer before they're facing Patty's family. "Hello," the shorter, older woman - Patty's mom, Ryan assumes - says with a soft smile. "Thank you so much for being here today. It means so much to my family and me."

Brendon takes over the conversation from there. "We're happy to be here," he says softly. "We're very sorry for your loss. Patty was an incredible friend. I'm Brendon Urie, I was Patty's boss at Empty Gold."

All of their eyes lit up at that time. "Patty spoke so highly of you," Patty's father said with a wide smile. "I'll be honest, it took me a while to come to terms with the fact that he absolute despised business management and wouldn't be going to college, but my son was an incredible visionary. Thank you for helping him see his entire potential. I've never seen him happier than when he worked for you."

"With me," Brendon corrected politely. "I don't believe I'm better than any of my employees just because I own the place, so I'll say he worked with me, not for me."

Patty's father nodded happily as he wrote Brendon's name down in the guest book before turning to Ryan. "And you are, sir?"

Ryan swallowed nervously. "Ryan Ross, sir."

Mr. Walters' face turned curious. "We're you the boy who was with Patty when..?"

Ryan swallowed again, but nodded gently.

Before he knew how to react, Mrs. Walters came from behind the podium and hugged him tightly. "We're so happy you're alright," she said happily and teary eyed. "We were so afraid that you hadn't made it through."

Ryan felt his eyes tear up and a lump settle in his throat. "Thank you," he whispers softly. "I'm so sorry for your loss. Patty was like a brother to me more than a friend, and I loved him as such."

Mr. and Mrs. Walters smiled and thanked him for his words as they wrote his name in the book. They thanked the two of them for coming again as they made their way to the viewing area. Before thy could take their seats, a soft tap on his shoulder caused Ryan to turn around.

"Hi," the short blonde woman said softly. "I'm Rachel; I'm Patty's sister."

Ryan nodded gently, reaching his hand out. "Ryan Ross," he said again.

She nodded. "I know you probably don't want to do this here, so we won't, but I will bring it up so you know." Her tone was soft and sweet, and she had a light dust of freckles sprinkled on her cheeks as she smiled softly at Ryan. "Patty named me the executor of his will if I were to live longer than him. Don't let that worry you, he updated his will once every few months so that he knew everyone he cared about would be taken care of. We'll go over the legalities and logistics of everything later, but I just wanted to make sure you were aware of your place in Patty's will."

Ryan felt incredibly confused. "He put me in his will?" He turned and looked at Brendon, who was smiling softly. "We barely knew each other for just a couple of months."

Rachel laughed gently. "Patty was good at judging character," she said happily, "and he loved yours. Everyone in the Empty Gold family got something left behind in his will, some more than others. He left you something you'd appreciate."

Ryan looked unsure. "What did he leave me?"

Rachel smiled, pulling an envelope from her purse and sliding out a piece of paper. "To Ryan Ross," she read off, "I leave everything that pertains to my tattoo lifestyle. I leave my machines, my flashes, my sketches, and my royalties. Every cent I have made from my tattooing career is in a safe deposit at San Angeles Community Bank, to which I leave Mr. Ross - and only Mr. Ross - the access for." She slipped the paper back in the envelope and replaced it back in her purse as Ryan felt his eyes fill with tears.

"I don't deserve all of that," Ryan said through the lump in his throat. "I don't deserve any of it."

Rachel smiled sadly. "Patty thought you did," she said.

Ryan just nodded, biting his lip to suppress his sobs.

"We'll discuss legalities on a different day," she said, putting a comforting hand on his arm. "For now, let's all just gather here for my brother."

Ryan nodded again, Brendon thanking her as they walked to their seats. "You said earlier that this didn't feel like a funeral?"

Ryan wipes at his eyes, shaking his head gently. "Everyone seems way too happy to be here," he said quietly. "People should be.. mourning and missing him. They should be.. sad."

Brendon smiles, lacing his fingers with Ryan's. "Funerals are not meant for the dead, Ryan Ross," he says softly. "Funerals are meant for the living. Funerals are meant to be the celebration of a life lived, not the mourning of a life lost. Everyone here is happy because they are remembering the good times they had with Patty. They are remembering every time he made them smile; every time he made him feel like they had a purpose. Do you know how old Patty was?"

Ryan shook his head, looking at Brendon with glistening eyes.

"He was twenty-eight," he continued with an amused smile at Ryan's shocked face. "Patty had already done so much living. He'd experienced most of Europe and Asia, spent a couple of years abroad in England and Scotland during the years he should have been in college, and even started a non-profit charity organization to help children go to school in Uganda - all before he turned 25. We are here to celebrate how amazing Patty's life was, not to be in despair that it's ended. No one is saying you can't miss him, because of course you can, but don't let his loss weigh heavy on your heart."

Ryan was full on crying at this point, holding onto Brendon's arm with his face buried in his shoulder. He took Brendon's words directly to heart, and now he was missing Patty even more. Patty had lived an incredible life, one more fulfilling than Ryan could ever dream of. He was one of the greatest friends Ryan had ever had, and he was gone.

Brendon was right, though. Everyone's eulogies and speeches completely encompassed what Patty was like as a person. There were some teary laughs from his friends and family, but all in all, everyone was celebrating the life they had with Patty, while missing him at the same time. Ryan couldn't help but find beauty in that.