Dallon had passed out some time ago, and when he woke up, he was certain that this was not Gee's house. He'd never even seen Gee's bedroom, but he knew for a fact that it was not this. For a start it was tidy, no lingerie in sight, and there was a framed photograph of Spencer with what was probably his mom and dad. Right. Spencer's room, then.

It was cold, and it was dark, and he was on an unfamiliar bed. There was nobody else in the room, and the door was closed, and his head hurt so much he could barely move.

Beside the photo of Spencer with his parents was another framed photo, this time of him and Brendon at some sort of bar. He picked it up, feeling tears rise, and he looked down at it, guilt swimming in his stomach. They were both grinning like idiots, their arms around each other, and they looked so...happy.

The door opened, making him jump and drop the photo. It hit the carpet with a dull thud, a crack appearing from one corner to the other. Dallon cowered away from whoever had come in, curling into a ball at the head of the bed, his head threatening to split in two.

"Hey." Spencer said softly, sitting at the foot of the bed, holding a large glass of water in one hand, and two pills in another. Dallon slowly raised his head, sniffing a little. "How are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Where - where's Bert?"

"He's downstairs. I thought I'd better check up on you first - you were pretty out of it when I arrived at Gee's."

"I...was?"

"Mm-hm." He handed Dallon the water and the pills, and the younger took them, albeit a little hesitantly. "Take those. It's just aspirin. It'll make you feel better."

Dallon swallowed the pills and drank the water, before setting the glass on the nightstand and crossing his legs. He had to admit, it did make him feel a little better. The water alone dulled the pounding in his head, even if it was the tiniest bit.

"Do you want me to get Bert?" Spencer asked, and he nodded quickly, chewing on his thumbnail. "Okay. I'll go get him." He leaned forward as if to hug the younger boy, but instead he whispered, "It's nothing personal, you understand" before standing up and leaving the room.

Nothing personal? What had that meant? What wasn't personal? Was that like a song or something? What was Spencer on about?

He didn't have time to mull it over, because his vision began to swim, blurring at the edges, and before he knew it, he was blacking out, for the last time.

~

Flash! Flash! Flash!

Photography was something that Ryan adored and would always adore, no matter what men were in or out of his life. And even though this particular shoot was something he'd been reluctant to do, doing it would show Brendon fucking Urie just who was boss.

He was angry. He was so unbelievably, unreasonably angry, and this photoshoot would be the only thing that enabled him to let his anger out. He wasn't into the BDSM scene at all, but his manager had insisted, and he found himself wearing a leather catsuit and heels and tying some random male model to a bed.

And he was getting into it, posing with whips, and handcuffs, and the other guy was even blindfolded at one point. He also did a few solo shots, draping himself over a throne like he was the fucking King of them all, lifting his long legs in the air.

He fucking loved it.

And he completely forgot about Brendon, until -

"Jesus, Ry."

Ryan's head snapped towards the voice, and he glared at Brendon, who stood in the doorway. "Who let you in?"

"Your manager. I told her it was urgent."

"One moment," he told the photographer, before getting to his feet and marching towards Brendon, grabbing his arm. He led the pornstar to his dressing room, locking the door behind them and shoving him up against the wall. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

"Seeing you." Brendon bit down on his lower lip, his hands settling on Ryan's hips. "You look great in this catsuit. You know where it would look better?"

"You really think I wanna talk to you after yesterday?"

"Ryan, you always want to talk to me."

He pushed the younger away, folding his arms and stepping back. "No. I thought - I don't know what I thought, but whatever it was, it was wrong. You are exactly what I knew you were from the start."

"Fuck off, you think you're such a princess but you're just as fucked-up as the rest of us."

"That's my problem." He looked Brendon up and down in disgust. "Thanks for ruining my shoot."

Then he walked away, leaving Brendon stunned, offended, and alone.

~

Bert, Bob, Spencer and Gee were gathered at the foot of Spencer's bed, looking down at the body that lay motionless on it. They'd been stood there for ten minutes, to make sure, even after Bob had prodded him. They had to be sure.

They had to be positive that Dallon was dead.

"Where's he gonna be buried?" Bob asked, and Bert and Gee looked at Spencer.

"What?" Then he realised. "No way. Nooooo way. We are not turning my parents' back garden into a cemetery."

"Why not?" Bert said, taking out a cigarette, but before he could light it, Gee slapped it out of his hand. "It'll go with your weird emo aesthetic."

"My weird emo aesthetic?!" And Spencer was beginning to panic, and Spencer was the only one panicking, like damn, they had a dead fucking body in the room, Dallon Weekes' dead fucking body - and Bert had lit that fucking cigarette, and Bob was just standing there, probably high, and Gee, well they looked as if they were actually thinking about something, but Gee didn't think, Gee just did. "Guys c'mon, we - we gotta do something -"

"Shut up, Spencer. I'm thinking." Gee said, and Spencer chewed on his lower lip.

"It wasn't even a good murder." Bert said, so matter-of-factly that Spencer could've punched him. "We should've like stabbed him or something."

"I gave him fucking pills that we knew would kill him!" Let's face it, Spencer was panicking, and he wasn't even at a fucking disco. "Isn't that bad enough?!"

"No?"

At that, Spencer spun and punched Bert McCrackhead right in the face, splitting his lip and causing blood to spurt from his nose. "That's it." He said. "Do what you like. I'm going to Brendon's."

Gee grabbed his arm on the way out, and he glared at them as if it was their fault this had happened. "Don't tell him."

"You think I'm stupid?"

"No, but -"

And then Spencer was gone, running from his house as fast as he could.

Twenty minutes later, Bert and Bob had successfully carried Dallon's body to the garden, while Gee kicked down the door to the shed. They turned around and saw Bert staring incredulously at them, and they folded their arms.

"What?" They demanded.

"Nothing...you looked really hot just then." He shrugged, and Gee rolled their eyes, retrieving two shovels and tossing them to Bert and Bob.

"Start digging."

"What?! I'm nowhere near high enough for this!" Bob protested.

"And why aren't you doing any digging?" Bert's eyes narrowed.

"Because I'm watching."

"Oh, right. You're not exactly dressed for gardening, are you?"

They scowled. They were wearing a leather miniskirt and a black long-sleeved shirt with their chunkiest black boots, but that didn't mean that they couldn't dig. They just chose not to. Besides, Bert and Bob were stronger than they were. They were just there to look pretty.

They were all glad it was dark, and that the only neighbors Spencer's parents had were either old and didn't look out the windows or always working and never had time to look out the windows. Bert would send Gee the occasional glare, but remembered that he'd probably be getting laid tonight so he didn't complain. Gee was good to him like that. He knew he was wrapped around their little finger, but he couldn't help it; he didn't choose to be hopelessly in love with them.

"How much longer?" Bob whined after five minutes, leaning on the shovel's handle.

"Until you've dug a grave deep enough to put him in." Gee smiled sweetly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If you're good and you get it done, Bob, I've got some pot you can have." Bob gave them a 'so what?' look. "For free. Maybe something stronger if you get it done quickly." He grinned and got to work, while Bert set his hands on his hips.

"What's in it for me?"

"Well..." Gee sidled up to him and whispered obsenities in his ear, making him smirk.

"What would Frankie think?"

"Frankie and I aren't dating. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him. How many times have we discussed this?"

"Very true." He moved his hands to their hips and leaned in to kiss them, instead getting their cheek as they turned their head away. He grumbled but said nothing as he got back to digging, Gee leaning against a tree as they watched for anyone approaching.

Every distant wail of sirens make them jump and look around, and once or twice Bert opened his mouth to say something, to call this whole thing off, but soon the hole was dug and big enough to put a body in.

"You think Spencer's parents will notice?" Bob asked, as he and Bert lifted the body.

"Not if you do it properly." Gee replied, raising an eyebrow. "Come on! Stop wasting time!"

They threw the body (it wasn't even worthy of a name anymore, it was just a body) into the makeshift grave, and it hit the bottom with a sick kind of thud that made the three of them wince. They glanced at each other for a moment, and Gee actually crossed themself before Bob and Bert began to fill in the grave.

The sound of an engine, followed by car doors slamming made them all freeze, Bert and Gee staring at each other like deer caught in headlights. Bob put a finger to his lips, exaggerating the shushing motion. Their heartbeats spiked as they heard footsteps, especially as they were moving towards the house.

"Is Spencer home?" A woman asked, and Bert cursed in a whisper.

"It doesn't look like it." A man replied. "I'll call him." There was a pause, mumbled words, phrases like 'where are you?' and 'him?' jumping out at them. "Okay, fine. We'll be there soon. Give us half an hour, we need to put our bags in- Spencer! Fine!" There was a sigh. "We gotta go pick him up. He's at Brendon's."

"I'll stay, love. I'm sure Spencer's probably wrecked the place with those friends of his."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, just help me in and -"

It was then that the shovel gave way under Bob's weight, and he came crashing down onto the floor, falling in among the pile of dirt.

"What was that?" The woman, presumably Spencer's mother, asked. "Is there something out back?"

They were frozen in terror as Spencer's father called out, and then a torchlight shone as the two made their way around to the back of the house. This was it. They were doomed. They were -

There were four gunshots, way too loud in the night's eerie silence, sure to alert anyone nearby, but it was too late.

"You might wanna dig the hole a bit bigger, guys." Gee said, and all Bert had to say to that, was:

"I'd better get more than a blowjob for this."

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