"And we have Mr. Brendon Urie as Charlie Price! Let's give him a round of applause!"

The sound of the audience's cheers and claps overwhelms him, despite having this as his fifth show for Kinky Boots already. But Brendon confirms that the feeling will always be different when performing on a concert.

And this. This. This is something he always dreamed of.

When you make it to Broadway, you know that you've really made it. It's part of his checklist that he always wanted to achieve.

So even when he's in the highest pinnacle of his dreams, why does it feel like something's missing?

"Great job on another show, Brendon!" One of the stage crew—Drew, if he remembers correctly—congratulates him with a pat on his shoulder after the show. "The crowd was wild tonight because of you!"

Brendon shook his head with a chuckle. "Nah. All of us were equally great out there. Not just me."

"Well, yeah. All of you were great. But don't sell yourself short. Even if you weren't Brendon Urie of Panic! At The Disco, you'd still make it to Broadway because of what you can do." Drew points out with a grin and leaves Brendon to his thoughts.

'You're not the first one to tell me that.' He tells himself as hugs the bouquet of flowers given to him closer to his chest.

He wonders if he would have been better not being known as vocalist of the band. Brendon wonders if things would change if he started out as an actor in some play instead. Well, of course it would. He's just not sure how all of it would turn out.

"Awesome job, Bren. Real proud of you." Zack greets him once he reached his car. Brendon just huffs a smile, too tired to respond. While everything about being part of the play was exhilarating, it can be real tiring as well.

He relaxes his tense body onto the soft cushions of his car and closes his eyes, letting the sound of the radio fill his ears as Zack proceeds to drive their way back home.

His bodyguard has been telling him the tweets and posts he's seen on social media about his performance, as well as the Break A Leg Brendon hash tag. Which was kinda hilarious, but he appreciates all the support he received from it.

"Did you see anyone familiar in the show?"

"Oh, yeah. Gabe and Vicky were there. They couldn't stay long but they send their regards, or whatever." Zack says, who started fiddling with the radio's channel. "Couldn't find anyone much. There were too many people, honestly."

Not that Brendon's expecting one, but he's kinda disappointed. He was hoping at least a close friend. But he already knew they couldn't come even though they promised to watch the next one. They've already said so before the show and he understands.

"They told me they saw Dallon, by the way."

Brendon snaps his eyes open, turning to Zack in question. Did he hear that just right?

"Dallon?" How long has it been since he heard from him?

"Even they weren't sure themselves. But a few fans have asked me too if I saw him at the play." Zack explains, tapping his fingers onto the steering wheel, following the music's beat from the radio. "The asshole couldn't even give a spare time to say hi if he was really there." His bodyguard adds, but without any malice in his words.

Brendon just remains silent at that. He's not quite sure on what to say. He hasn't seen the man for years since he left. Left the band. While he and Dallon ended it in formal terms, he knew that it left them both damaged from the years they spent together.

It was his fault, anyway. Just because of an argument he had with the taller man, he started to act cold towards him. He was too prideful to admit that he was at fault too and just took it all on Dallon. He was too prideful for making the issue too long that he couldn't even remember how it all started.

All he knew was when the moment Dallon said he wanted to leave the band, all it left him was tremendous guilt and another piece of his heart shattering right on his feet.

But if what they said is true and Dallon did watch show, is it possible he can make things right again?

Brendon opens his phone and scrolls down his contacts. Dallon's number is still here. And if he was honest, he didn't have the heart to delete it. Never could.

He opens the messages he had with the taller man, and as he scrolls up from the very beginning, reading it to the very bottom, he could see how things changed drastically between them. The lack of banter and just formal acknowledgement in the latest messages below just shows how far they drifted apart.

"It's okay." The very last message from Dallon says. It was sent to him almost a year ago. After that, there's nothing else. No Hello's or How Are You's and everything just stopped there even when Dallon was still in the band at that time. Why did he let it get so far?

He taps on the text box, his thumb hovering above the touchscreen as he thinks of what to say to him.

'heard you were in the show tonight', 'hey, did you watch kinky boots tonight? heard you were there',

Brendon erases the formed messages. He's not even sure this is still the taller man's number.

'hey, how've you been?'

Simple enough. Hell, he's not even expecting Dallon to reply. But he bites his lip and sends the message anyway.

All he knows of Dallon is that he did that music project with Seaman and have been going on tours with him in some states. He sees it from his twitter, and out of curiosity, he scrolls his page sometimes just so he'd know what the brunette was up to these days.

He's starting to regret sending the message. What if Dallon doesn't even want to talk to him anymore?

It became a minute, and then an hour. Nothing. Even as he arrived at his house, there's no response from Dallon. Why did he even expect the taller man to talk to him again? There's no use going back to the people who don't want him at all.

Even if it hurts.

A ring from his phone interrupts his thoughts. He didn't bother checking who called, knowing it was probably Zack or something, especially at this time of the night.

"What do you want, Zack?"

"Brendon?"

He stiffens at the voice that reached his ears. A familiar, soft voice that he didn't realize how much he missed upon hearing it again.

"D-Dallon?"

"Hey."

He's not quite sure what to say right now. There are lots of questions that conjures his mind. The silence between them seems louder, aside from the staccato beat of his heart.

"You sent me a text." The voice asked softly. He wanted to hear more of it. When he took too long to answer, Dallon must have noticed his dilemma. "Are you okay?"

Brendon opens his mouth, then closes it again. He licks his chapped lips, give moist to the dry texture. A habit to avert his nervousness into something else.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He says with little success in keeping his almost shaky voice. Why is he so nervous?

Dallon hums from the other line, not questioning his situation further, but clearly not believing him. Because apparently, the other man knows him enough when he wants to dismiss something. Sadly, that's more often than none.

"So, how are you?"

Brendon tries the most easiest approach. Small talk would be the way to go if he wants to start something.

"Brendon, I'm sorry. Is there anything you need? I really can't stay long."

From the background, Brendon should have heard the loud music playing from Dallon's end of the line. Right. He's still on tour.

"Oh god. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"If you wanna talk, do you wanna meet? I heard you're in LA right now. We can meet outside after my show."

Brendon somewhat felt a glimmer of hope that the brunette still suggested they could meet up. But he wonders why the man would prefer meeting outside other than the show itself.

"You don't want me to watch your show?"

Dallon stays silent from the other line, as if he's contemplating. Brendon wonders if the other man just didn't want him to be there.

"Would you like too? I-It's not... It might not reach your standards." Dallon adds with an awkward chuckle.

Why would the other man think it wouldn't reach his standards? Honestly, Brendon was kind of offended Dallon would reach that conclusion.

"Why would you say that?"

He hates how Dallon stays silent again. It's like he should have known the answer. The other man should stop keeping things from him. But he knew he has no right to question it. Too intrusive of him to do when Dallon doesn't even want to.

"Just... Forget about it." Dallon says, avoiding the topic at hand. It makes Brendon more frustrated than he should be. "I need to go. Just tell me if wanna meet up so I could give you a pass for the show."

After saying goodbye, Brendon ends their call and stares down at his phone. They didn't even reach more than two minutes.

Is it weird craving for someone's attention? An attention of someone he hasn't seen for a long time? No, it's not that weird. It's just odd for him to feel like something's missing again after Dallon finished the call.

Brendon hides his face in his hands, feeling frustrated over one phone call that should have been longer than he wanted. This is him being immature again. He's starting to realize when he's having these tantrums, and they became more obvious to him when Dallon left. Because with Dallon leaving, he started to see a mirror of himself and all the shit he's done.

With a shook of his head, he reaches for his phone again to make another call.

"Hey, Zack? I think I'll be skipping the bar this weekend. I need to go somewhere important."

****

He thought he didn't make it when he reached the venue Dallon instructed him to go. The performance is already starting inside. But it's sort of a good thing so no one will recognize him.

Getting into the venue wasn't a problem. Dallon must have prompted the guards when they recognized his face. The venue itself isn't that big, but the crowd is packed and alive as the kids' body sway at the beat of the drums resounding the whole room.

"So we all know how the opening band isn't that much appreciated."

The voice that echoes throughout the venue caught his attention. His ears straining to listen to the voice he hasn't heard for so long. The crowd's attention focused on the individual standing on stage, all in his confident bravado and witty charm that has everyone wrapped in his fingers.

Brendon smiles wistfully at the sight, his heart lurching on a personified reminder of his regrets.

"Opening bands are the fire that sets the candle; they start the light. We're just here to make it last."

He remembers Dallon having a soft spot for small bands back in tour. It was the time Zack got pretty pissed at him when he was being too nice to them back stage. He, on the other hand, hardly acknowledged them nor talked to them.

And maybe that's why fans are so drawn to the older man like moth to the flame. He's a man of a gentle heart. Too kind to fans, too forgiving to people who have stepped on the remains of his clinging pride, too patient to tolerate all the bullshit he threw at him.

The fans who he gained during his stay with Panic! stayed with him till this day. And he knows Dallon earned their respect. He gave his heart to them, and they give their heart in return.

Whatever doubt Dallon still has about his musical abilities, Brendon could only hope they can steer him away from that dark cloud of insecurity.

But he's a coward, letting Dallon's fans clean up whatever insecurity he so viciously added in this talented man's life in the span of their tour together.

No wonder Dallon was hesitant to have him here in his concert. He worries that his music will not reach his standard.

Crippling a person's self esteem over a standard? Brendon chuckles bitterly over a joke that he made himself out to be.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he realized Dallon started singing. Odd enough, it was about appreciating an opening band. And all Brendon could do is listen to how witty and smartly crafted the song is.

"But if you lend an ear
And give them just one little chance
You may just like the–
You may just like the–
You may just like the opening band"

Dallon drawls out his notes, giving out his highest falsetto that can make anyone's eyebrows raise at the consistency of his voice, while letting his voice fade out like a passing rain. All that's left is a thunderous applause and a whistling cheer of showmanship.

If he's to say he's not part of the cacophonous cheer would be a great utter lie.

After the grandiose of an opening performance, he knows the show is about to begin when the drums and the strum of Dallon's bass impede on his ears like a war beginning to clash.

Dallon is whole different performer than he remembered him to be. He looks more comfortable in his movements, he laughs and smiles more, and he's a whole lot talkative on stage. The brunette talks to them as if this show isn't about him. It's about them.

This man has been longer in the music industry than him, but he never seems fazed by the negativity that surrounds the industry. Heck, Dallon defies their low expectations despite of what he thinks of himself.

He achieved everything he ever dreamed of. But a man can never live in content. Now that he watches Dallon perform, how he wished he could have made his life that way; feigning ignorance is a bliss without everyone's eyes expecting him to fail.

"This is the best secret we never hoped to keep."

The curtains close and the show ends after the final applause. And yet Brendon is left wishing to hear more of it. For all the jokes and jabs he did of the brunette's former band, he knew Dallon is a magnificent performer. His penchant of running his words without thinking loses that purpose of an amusing banter.

He never did apologize for all of it, did he?

"Urie?"

Brendon stiffens, fretting that maybe a fan noticed him during his musing. But as he looks up, he sees Ryan Seaman staring at him with a hint of surprise at the sight of him.

The other man looks over his shoulder, watching Dallon talking to the fans right by the entry of the venue. He turns to Brendon again with an amused look. "We should get you backstage. You wouldn't want to cause an uproar now."

He gladly let's himself be led to the backstage, following Seaman to what seems to be their dressing room.

"Dallon told me you might come. Didn't think you actually will." The other man notes, sounding as laid back as he knew the other man would be. But by the way his question is formed, he's sure it was meant to be a biting remark.

"He invited me." He responds, forcibly ignoring the temper starting to latch on him. A rather lame comeback, but that's something the blue haired man couldn't deny or retort.

And true to his assumption, Seaman just shrugs nonchalantly. "I guess he did."

Ryan is a nice guy, but Brendon couldn't blame the other man for being crossed with him at one point. He's been friends with Dallon long before the said man joined Panic!

Dallon is pretty good in keeping friends. That's sadly something he knows he's not good at.

Silence envelopes their stance. At this point, he has nothing to else to say to him, and he's aware the other man would rather be back to talk to his fans with Dallon.

Ryan gives him a smile, cutting off the silence. "Mind waiting for a bit? We'll just meet up with some fans. I'll get Dallon for you once we're done."

"Yeah, sure."

Brendon watches the other leave for the door. But to his surprise, he stops his stride. "Did you watch the whole show?" Ryan questions, his back still turned to him as his hand grips on the door.

The sudden question baffles him, but he confirms that he watched the performance.

"What do you think?" Seaman turns back to him, genuine curiosity sparked his eyes.

And he responds in what would be the honest answer with a smile gracing his lips. "It's... refreshing. Exhilarating."

Ryan seems to be pleased with the answer when he smiles back. "Yeah. Dallon is one of a kind, ain't he? Always had it in him, but he never really believed it."

Those words somehow made his heart clench, a deep-seated guilt simmering from the lowest of his gut. He hates how the words begin to engrave his mind; a constant reminder of how he added fuel to the fire of burning the remains of Dallon's esteem.

He just smiles tightly in response. Trying not to let the other man know how those words affected him. "Yeah. He really should believe in himself. I know I do."

The shift in Seaman's expression seems to mirror his own now. It's surprise facing him. He knew that reaction is from his words; he really did believe in Dallon. He still does. He's terrible at words, and Dallon knows this. But what the brunette doesn't know is that he always believed in Dallon, even if his lips heated with biting remarks masked that belief.

He hates himself for it.

And if Seaman's seemingly amused look has anything to go by, he wouldn't be far off to assume the man thinks he's lying.

Heck, he doesn't believe in his own words anymore.

The other man leaves him without a word and now he's stuck with his thoughts. He hasn't even talked to Dallon yet but he already feels exhausted.

He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even his eyes feel like stinging in pain behind his eyelids. All he could do is lean his body on the soft cushions of the sofa and rest his head.

A nudge on his shoulder made him realize he's fallen asleep. He looks up blearily at the figure loom over him. It's Dallon, looking down at him with concern.

"Are you alright, Brendon?" He asked softly, as his voice has always been.

"Y-Yeah, sorry." He mumbles, straightening himself upright. "You done with the fans?"

"Yeah, just had to make sure some of the remaining fans got picked up by their parents."

Brendon smiles at that. Always quite a Dad he is.

He could feel the sofa dip beside him, and he could find Dallon's soft, worrying gaze again. Brendon feels like he doesn't deserve it. Not after everything that happened. But he let's himself be selfish for his attention, even for a little bit.

"Do you need help with something, Brendon? Need someone to play bass for you on tour?" Dallon asked.

Why would Dallon assume he needed something from him? Couldn't he just assume he'd like to have some chat with him and catch up?

"Are you offering?" He teases with a grin, expecting Dallon to return the same expression.

But the brunette only returns a gentle smile. That made him question if he ever really loose whatever his... unspoken feelings for Dallon were when the older man looks at him like that.

"You know I'll be there if you need me, Brendon. I'll be there if Panic! needs me. I owe you that much."

'Even after all I've put you through?' He wants to add, but he knows not to put Dallon on that spot. Even if he wants to know the answer.

But Brendon believes him and it's enough. And with that, he thanks him with a smile on his lips.

"So, what brings you here?" Dallon inquired, looking more relaxed now. He could feel the tension softening on it's own; just like it's always been. It's just the two of them.

Brendon shrugs, feeling a bit sheepish for his sudden visit. "Just wanted to catch up."

"You came all the way here just to catch up?" Dallon asked incredulously, but Brendon could see his expression softening into a fond gaze. "I appreciate it but you know you can always call me, right?"

"I wanted to see how you're doing. A-And I know when you left the band, we really didn't get to talk about..." Brendon trails off. Talk about what exactly? How they suddenly didn't talk anymore? How Dallon left the band with a sour taste in their mouths? Or explain his behavior which is probably the reason that made Dallon left?

He really should have thought about it before rushing off to meet the brunette.

"You know, the band's progress is..." Dallon trails off when he noticed Brendon had no plan to continue; starting a new subject. "Not what I was expecting."

Brendon turns to him, thankful for the shift of the discussion. Dallon has that pensive look on his face. He always wondered about how deep the older man's thoughts are.

"What is it you were expecting?"

Dallon shrugs, looking down at the hands on his lap. "Well, the reception of the fans is just overwhelming, I guess? Not expecting that. I've been in the music industry for almost two decades but I didn't think people—especially kids these days—would like my songs. And some like it till this day."

"You're a good musician, Dal. You'll be getting that crowd in an arena one day. Despite what others say." 'Despite what I say.' Brendon thought bitterly, remembering his words of ridiculing the bassist's old band out of immature mockery. A joke. But hurtful, nonetheless.

The brunette smiles at the praise; always forgiving, despite of everything. "I never wanted a crowd, though."

As someone who lived with exposure to the crowd, he wonders what else could Dallon want? Money? Fame? Knowing this man for almost a decade, he knows it's not.

"I just want someone to listen."

We always did listen. We still do. Brendon wants to say, but he's probably not the right person to say those words. He doesn't want to sound like a hypocrite.

But at least, in a way, Dallon got his wish. And that's okay for him.

He needs to do what he came for, and with a deep breath, he speaks:

"Dallon, I wanted to apologize."

He watches the other man look at him with surprise. He knows Dallon would say there's nothing to apologize for but he cuts him off even before he could.

"Don't cut me off, Dal. I think been long overdue and I want you to hear it, just for the peace of my mind."

Dallon nods, rather reluctantly but it's good of a go-signal that he'll get.

"I'm sorry." He starts, looking into Dallon's bluish grays to convey the sincerity of his words. "I'm sorry for the things I said. I've taken advantage of your patience and your kindness throughout the years. The things that I said about you not being good enough? That was a lie. You were always good enough. Too good in every aspect I could think of. You're a good musician, a good song writer, a good singer, and a good person."

"You're also a good friend I don't deserve."

Brendon could see the emotions shift through Dallon's eyes. Confusion, sadness, a gentle understanding gaze. But he doesn't speak, he listens. Just like how he always knew Dallon.

"Remember all the times we argue when you scold me when I do shitty things? 'Brendon, that's going to injure you', 'Bren, I think you need to ease off a bit.' , 'Brendon, I don't want you to get hurt.' You're like that infuriating parent that keeps nagging me and it made me so angry that the moment I told you to back off, you actually did and it really continued to spiral down from there."

Brendon chuckles bitterly, feeling a heavy lump from his throat. "And the weird part is, I actually miss it."

"Goddammit, Dallon. I miss you."

He rubs a hand over his face out of frustration, avoiding Dallon's gaze for an explanation. But there's nothing to explain, really. Dallon's always been a role model; a reminder of where he started, back when he only wanted to play music because he loves it.

And in the back of his mind, he always had that fear of disappointing Dallon. But he never wanted to cling and be dependent on the brunette's presence. He was getting attached and he knows he'll get hurt if he gets too close.

So what was his brilliant idea for pushing that fear away? Push away that instills that deep-seated fear that nobody knows. Then it led to returning Dallon as a tour member, and left him creating music on his own.

It was immature pride. He didn't need anyone. He didn't need Dallon, and by keeping him would bring him down. He kept that mindset as a justified reason for years.

He kept pushing, he kept spilling words that would burn. He keeps doing it almost unknowingly to the point that he almost believed he really held animosity towards Dallon.

The words 'I want to leave, I'm done' were spoken softly one day in an empty trailer, without any trace of malice but only tiredness and defeat in the tone of Dallon's voice. It was only two of them as those words lay bare around them.

It was the day Brendon knew he didn't have a heart left, because Dallon took it with him without realizing.

He was right. He knew he'll get hurt. But he also knew it was his fault.

"It's just... not the same anymore." Brendon resumes, his voice beginning to break with every word as the memories of his selfishness flood his mind. "I-I hate scrolling down my contacts and see your name on the list. I-I want to call you. Beg you to come back fulltime in the band, but I just..."

He can't continue.

Three words. He wanted to say three words he never had the courage to say to Dallon for decades.

And as he feels a warm hand extend towards him, adjusting his head to lean on Dallon's shoulder, he would have said it. He would have said it while Dallon kisses his head, muttering apologies on his hair as if it's a mantra.

I love you, I love you, I love you

Brendon lets his mind speak, but he still doesn't say it not because of pride, but because he knows he'll never hear it back. It's like screaming words of desperation inside a dark, echoless cave that will never send an answer.

It took Dallon leaving him just to realize what those words truly mean for him when it involves the brunette.

Because out of all the thousands of people screaming those words to him, he knows he doesn't deserve to hear it back from the one person he wants to hear it from.

"I'm sorry, Bren. I can't go back. You know it won't be the same anymore."

Brendon closes his eyes and breathes, taking in Dallon's scent. I know, I know. He says to himself.

"But I'm always here for you, whenever you need me."

"Is it because you owe me?" Brendon questions, the tiredness seeping through the heaviness of his emotions.

"No, because I want this, only if you want me to." Dallon responds softly, his hand carding through his hair gently as a calming gesture.

"How are you not mad at me?" Brendon asked incredulously. Dallon may have a patience of a saint, be he's not one.

"Brendon, it's been two years." Dallon answers as if it suffices. Honestly it doesn't, but he's too tired to argue. "I've been informed that I'm terrible at holding grudges, just like everything else I do."

"Dal—"

"I'm just joking." He interrupts with a chuckle.

Not that Brendon believes he was joking. He knew the man had this self-depreciating humor.

"What I mean is, I forgive you, and I did a long time ago. But I'm going to tell you right now that your words did hurt me. I keep asking myself what I did wrong, just for you to look at me as if I'm the bane of your existence. But it wasn't the words that hurt me more. It was more on the idea that I probably ruined our friendship. So when you told me to back off, I did."

Hearing it from Dallon's side sounds more insightful. And to think the brunette still blamed himself for it? He shouldn't have been surprised but the admission devasted him.

"And when I asked for you to stop our little act on stage, I still think about how angry you were about it. Even the fans were disappointed. But the truth is, I really couldn't continue the act in knowing you don't really want me around anymore, you know?"

He remembers that argument he had with Dallon back then. But one little details that he didn't know was that he was angry at him not because the fans will be disappointed.

Brendon was angry because he never wanted it to stop.

It's another selfish thing he thought he could keep for himself. But it never lasts, unfortunately.

He thought Dallon was averse to the idea, but hearing his explanation cleared it, at least.

"It was hard, Bren. It was hard trying to laugh when you were making fun of me being a Mormon. It was hard just taking a joke of my old band not being good enough. It was like walking on a single thread that's about to snap."

Brendon holds his breath, listening attentively to Dallon's words. The older man barely says his feelings but hearing this now...

"I was ready to fall any time, Bren. I didn't last."

That's when Dallon left. He was done. And all it took was sharp, piercing words to cut that rope he stood on.

Brendon couldn't speak. His throat is too bottled up with emotions that he fears he'll let out a sob he's been keeping at bay even before Dallon's admission. He wishes he was drunk enough for this.

But it's better this way.

Dallon knew this. They can't be together, in every sense of the word. They're too broken, too destructive .

And his feelings be dammed, he is really never meant to say those three words to Dallon and he knows he will never hear it back no matter how much it hurts. But he brought this onto himself, anyway. This is the ending of a tragedy and the closing of curtains.

"But I think, it's for the better." Dallon adds after a moment of silence as he can feel a smile on Dallon's lips pressing onto his hair. "I have my band with Ryan, and you're in Broadway now, just like I always knew you would."

He sniffs, smiling. Because he knew Dallon always believed he would make it. He said it back when Brendon still cherished his presence; back when he didn't ruin everything for the both of them.

"You know, if you auditioned for Broadway you know you'd make it, right?" Dallon points out one day while they were watch the Wicked musical.

He scoffs at the idea, disbelief answers his statement. "Like that's gonna happen for sure."

Dallon probably knew that they were better off in separate ways, all on their own paths. And perhaps, both of them were only meant to watch the success of the other from afar.

Maybe things would have been different, maybe they would have worked things out.

But Brendon knows that having Dallon this way is already too much than he deserves.

Here they are, not really together, but the weight of companionship lifts the years of unspoken burden, with the feeling of content fluttering in their chest.

They'll be there for each other when they need it.

As they bask on the comfort of silence, Brendon closes his eyes, hearing Dallon hum a tune under his breath. It's one of his songs he remembered from their performance earlier.

He will never stop loving this kind hearted man, but Brendon can only love him the way Dallon wants him to. And that's good enough.

It will be okay.

***
[A/N: I have no explanation for this fic. It just happened. And if you read my other works, there's a pattern. Oh well.

Scared To Be Lonely by Dua Lipa and Martin Garrix fueled this and continuously breaks my heart.

If the fic confuses you, don't worry, me too. Anyway, sorry for the mistakes and have a nice day!]