Locked In (RYDEN)

Chapter 8

Ryan looked better by the light of the morning. He had less blood on him than expected, and he was feeling better.

I looked better than I could've hoped for, I just hoped I wasn't entirely blood soaked.

Today, I go home. Home to normality and loneliness. But maybe Ryan will stay. Maybe we'll be together, for real.

At least, tags what he promises.

"When we get out of here, I'm going to take you out somewhere. Out to dinner." Ryan says as we exchange lazy kisses in the early light of morning.

"Oh yeah? Like a date?" I say, I make is more of a challenge and try not to be hopeful.
"Yeah. I s'pose." He says, kissing me harder. He's so perfect.

It's been three days and I think I'm in love. God I'm a hopeless romantic alright.

We stay like that, kissing, until I hear the bells.

No not the wedding bells. Jesus Brendon, get out of your own ass.

The bells that signal the final hour sound, and I check the music room clock.

I get to leave here. Thank the Lord I don't believe in.

Pulling Ryan up, we load all our collections into the bags or what won't fit, we prepare to carry.

Thirty one whiteboard pens
A costume
42 cents (one cent coins)
Five cellphones/calculators
A wig
A guitar
A laptop
A book on horror
A photograph
A bone
A bowl
A door knob
A mirror
Make up
A paperweight
A brush
Scissors
A towel
A cigarette
A ring
And a motherfucking Football Trophy.

We did it.

Walking to the front doors, we spit some dejected teams, lying in the halls. Some have bruises, some are covered in blood. All have given up.

I walk to the exit, hand in hand with Ryan.

I turn to kiss him, and he kisses back, soft lips against mine. God he's perfect.

"You're perfect." I tell him.

"You're amazing."

I love him. That's all there is too it. He's so... Everything. After spending all weekend with this goof, I've fallen for him. That's just it.

"I've fallen for you." I whisper as the last bell rings and the doors open.

I drop his hands and we walk out to the table in front of the doors. Setting out all the items we spent our time, energy, and risked our lives getting, they begin to count.

They smile.

"This years winners," my principal says over the loud speaker, "are Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross!" He cheers, as the whole school, who are standing around the gates, scream and chant their appreciation.

I smile at the crowd as our handcuff he's undone. Rubbing the red marks, I look around me. Both schools are here, watching the two emo kids who managed to fight off the jocks and win.

Suck on that.

Ryan smiles at me and I reach for his hand.

A petite blonde girl gets in the way.

She has heavy eyeliner and is hugging tightly to Ryan, who holds he back.

Fuck.

"Baby I missed you so much, congratulations!" The girl shrieks,

"I missed you too, I love you." Ryan days to her.

Ouch. That's worse that a bullet wound. His mouths the gun and those three words are bullets. The three bullets that end me.

He has a girlfriend. He loves her. I mean nothing.

I won the game, but I lost the prize.

"Brendon, this is Jac. My girlfriend." Ryan says, Jac holding out her hand. Fuck, he had to rub it in, didn't he.

"Hi." I say, shaking her hand.

I move away after that. I fake smiles for the kids who high five me and cheer me as I walk home.

I just won, so why do I feel like I lost my heart in the process. This is such bullshit.

I don't want to deal with it anymore.

Arriving home, I storm to my bedroom and but on American Idiot on full blast.

I light a joint and smoke away my troubles, feeling the weed detach me from myself.

I don't want to be me anymore.

I'm not good enough. He doesn't want me. He wants her.