Is lying ever morally right?

A few days later, after my cold had dissipated, I returned to the Aubergine once again. I tried to come home earlier, but I couldn't stand not being around Brendon. I knew that Patrick would be even more mad at me than he already was if I kept coming home late, so I started coming in earlier and earlier to chat with Brendon. It was a nice way to relax after a long day of classes.

I had to admit that not lying to Patrick anymore felt nice. There were some advantages to having everything out in the open, but not being able to speak to my roommate was frustrating, to say the least. I could only hope that Patrick would forgive me.

What did it mean to forgive someone anyways? If Patrick started speaking to me again, but never stopped feeling resentful towards me, would that be forgiveness? I wished that he could just forget about everything that I had said to him, but something told me that was never going to happen.

I was still pondering the situation with Patrick when I opened the door to the Aubergine. As usual, Brendon was standing next to the piano, waiting for me. "Hey Ryan," he said. "It's nice to see you again. How's it going?"

"My roommate's still mad at me," I said.

"That's too bad," Brendon said. "I'd invite you to crash in my apartment, but there isn't much space. Besides, it's not exactly close to the Kale campus."

"Flack Hall isn't close either," I said. "I think the Greek Friendship Society house might be closer to the rest of campus than my residence hall, and they're technically off campus."

"That must be horrible," Brendon said. "I know pretty much everyone in Greek Friendship Society, and although I love all of them, I wouldn't want to live next to them."

"They're just too noisy, but at least I don't have Patrick waking me up at five o'clock anymore."

"Who wakes up at five o'clock?" Brendon asked.

"I have no idea," I replied.

"Is your roommate even human?" Brendon asked.

I shrugged and then said, "It depends on your definition of 'human.'" I looked around the Aubergine as people began to file into the bar. I spotted the rest of the Guyliner Club and gave them a quick wave.

"I kind of want to meet this guy," Brendon said. "Does he ever come to the Aubergine?"

"Patrick isn't the type for a place like this," I said.

"He's missing out," Brendon said as he took another sip of his drink.

"He absolutely is," I said. "I don't think I could ever convince Patrick to come to the Aubergine though. He won't forgive me for coming here, so what would it take to get him to come here himself?"

"It would probably take a miracle, or maybe just a cute boy," Brendon said. "That's the whole reason I come here instead of the Poisoned Youth. The guys are so much cuter here."

I blushed and said, "You're right about that. I don't think Patrick is gay though."

"You never know," Brendon said.

All of a sudden, something crazy happened. A ridiculously tall young man entered the Aubergine. He was holding hands with a girl, and both of them were wearing Yale hoodies. The two of them seemed like the sort of people who would prefer the Poisoned Youth over the Aubergine, so nobody had any idea what they were doing here.

"What is going on?" I heard Pete ask as he walked up to Brendon and I. "I thought this was a gay bar."

"Me too," I said.

"I don't recognize either of them, and I know all of the regulars here" Pete said.

"Maybe they're lost," Laura suggested.

"I think they might be," Pete said. "That's the only explanation I can think of."

"I'm guessing that they're lost," I said. "Brendon? What do you think?" I didn't get a response, and when I looked towards the spot where Brendon was, he wasn't there. I rolled my eyes and searched through the bar for Brendon. It took me only a few minutes to find him hiding behind the piano.

"Brendon?" Spencer said as he leaned against the piano. "What are you doing there?"

"Maybe he won't notice me if I hide here," Brendon said.

"Is this about the guy who just walked in with his girlfriend?" Spencer asked. Brendon nodded, and Spencer said, "I don't know why he's here either, but this is the Aubergine. We welcome everyone. Besides, it's better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality."

I looked back towards the couple and noticed that the man had let go of his girlfriend's hand. He was walking towards the piano, and when he looked over the instrument, he smirked and said, "Brendon Urie. We've waited so damn long for this."

"Dallon Weekes," Brendon said. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check up on you," Dallon said. "Is that so wrong?" Just from looking at him, I could tell that something was wrong. He was wearing a Yale sweatshirt after all, and Yale kids wouldn't hesitate to smile while you suffocate and die.

"You know that I don't need you checking up on me," Brendon said.

"I beg to differ, Brendon," Dallon said. "You're not the same kid that I used to know."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Brendon asked. He started to sip his drink, but Dallon snatched it away.

"I think it is," Dallon said. He then gestured towards me and asked Brendon, "Is that your new boyfriend?"

"Ryan and I aren't together," Brendon said. "He's just my piano player." That marked the second time in a single week that someone had mistaken me for Brendon's boyfriend, but the real question was whether I wanted Brendon to be my boyfriend or not. It certainly wasn't a bad idea.

"Knowing you, I somehow doubt that he's just your piano player," Dallon said.

"He's my friend, but that's all," Brendon said. "Anyways, why are you even bothering with me? It certainly looks like you've moved on."

Dallon smiled and said, "Breezy's the best. Don't you remember her, Brendon? She went to school with us."

"Not particularly," Brendon said.

"That's a shame," Dallon said. "I bet you two would get along. Anyways, Ryan, I should probably tell you a few things about Brendon."

"What do you want to tell me?" I asked.

"First, you probably shouldn't date Brendon," Dallon said. "It's just not a good idea."

"Brendon and I aren't dating," I said.

"You probably will be dating before you know it," Dallon insisted. "I know mutual attraction when I see it."

At that point, I decided to let the issue go, but why exactly did Dallon think that Brendon was interested in me? From what I could see, Brendon only thought of me as a friend and nothing more. "Why shouldn't I date Brendon?" I asked.

Dallon sighed and said, "It's a long story, but you should probably hear it. Brendon and I were students at Yale together."

"Wait what?" I said. "Brendon went to Yale?"

Dallon nodded. "He did, but let me continue. Brendon and I were in psychology together during our freshman year, and we immediately became friends and later boyfriends. We spent all of our time together during our first semester together, although Brendon did seem a little bit too interested in hanging out at the various bars in New Haven for my liking. Nevertheless, it was clear that we made an excellent couple. Sometimes I miss that phase of our relationship."

"You're not together now, are you?" I said.

"Of course not," Dallon said. "We broke up two years ago."

"Why did you break up?" I asked.

"I was getting there," Dallon said. "Be patient, Ryan. The two of us would always hang out at one of the bars in New Haven, and eventually, we ventured into Old Haven, even though it's not terribly close to the Yale campus. He would usually drink a little bit, and I would remain sober throughout the night. However, I started to notice just how much Brendon was drinking. It got to the point where he wasn't doing any of his schoolwork. I tried to get help for him, but he just wouldn't listen to me. At the end of the year, he dropped out, and I broke up with him. We haven't exactly been on good terms since then, but I've moved on, and it seems like he has too. As far as I can tell, his alcoholism has only gotten worse since we broke up. Just don't get too involved with him, Ryan, and you'll be just fine."

"Come on, Dallon," Breezy said as she walked up to Dallon. "You said that we weren't going to be here long."

Dallon sighed and said, "Fine. Let's go. See you later, Brendon."

"Bye Dallon," Brendon grumbled.

My first instinct was to say that Dallon was lying. What proof did he have? Brendon did drink quite a bit, but I had never seen him drunk, and there was no way that he had gone to Yale. He didn't act like Dallon or Mikey, so Dallon's whole story must have been false.

Despite all of that, I had to ask Brendon himself. "Brendon?" I said. "Was any of what Dallon said true?"

Brendon laughed and said, "Of course not. Dallon's a liar. I dated him, but everything else he said was a lie."

"What is the truth then?" I asked.

"He just made all of that up to keep you away from me," Brendon said. "I don't know why I dated him, honestly."

That was the truth, then. Dallon was nothing but a liar, and I had no reason to believe anything that he had said about Brendon. I wandered over to the other side of the bar, where Spencer and Heidi were chatting about Dallon. "Do you happen to know him?" Spencer asked.

"I've seen him around, but this is the first time he's been here in a long time, and I've never seen that girl before," Heidi answered. "You know, this isn't actually a gay bar."

"I keep forgetting about that," Spencer said.

"Ever since Gerard Way's crowd started showing up, everyone seems to have forgotten that we're not a gay bar," Heidi said. She then shrugged and said, "I don't mind it too much."

I then looked back towards Brendon, who was adjusting his tie. He looked beautiful in his sparkly black suit, and I wondered how Dallon could possibly want to hurt a man like Brendon. Was it ever right to lie like Dallon had? When it hurt Brendon so much, the answer was obvious. Lying wasn't right at all. Perhaps there were other situations where lying might be right, but it was always wrong when it hurt others. I could see the pain etched onto Brendon's face. Why had he dated such a terrible person? I couldn't fathom it.

Dallon Weekes was just another reason for me to hate Yale students. They were elitist snobs and two-faced liars, or so I thought at the time. I had met only the worst of Yale's student body, but at that moment, I never wanted to see another Yale student again.

"Ryan, are you ready to go?" Brendon asked me.

"I think so," I said as I hopped onto the piano bench. Brendon's angelic voice quickly engulfed me, making it easy for me to forget about everything that had happened that night. After all of that, I wanted nothing more than to forget that Dallon Weekes had ever entered the Aubergine.