And Shoot The Sun [Brallon]

You've Got No Hand (Pt. 1)

Sorry that this is so late! I'm hungry but idk what I want to eat. Go get a snack and read this update while you eat. I usually do these AN's after I write the chapter but I'm severely ADHD and I'm hungry so I'm writing this before lol.

I FOUND CHIPS (I just realized that I didn't put Kenny in and idk how I managed not to and idk what to do now. fuck)

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~3 Days Later : Post Show~

Brendon:

It's been two days since I told Dallon that I love him. And I do. I'm just not sure if it's enough. He told me that it doesn't just go away when someone tells you that they love you but what am I supposed to do?

Maybe I'm just thinking too much into it. It's been a stressful few days. I had to find a new tour manager, make sure that Spencer wouldn't be uncomfortable with the idea of Dallon and me in a relationship and most important of all, and make sure that Dallon was doing okay. Tonight was another night in a hotel, which for me, meant a chance to go out and drink with our new tour manager Zack.

I don't want Dallon to be alone, but Spencer offered to stay with him so I think that it'll be okay. Considering what a dad Spence is.

"Brendon, we're going to drink, not fuck people, you don't need to look like a supermodel just come out already."

"FUCK YOU ZACK."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair one more time before yanking the door open quickly, grabbing my phone and wallet, and making my way out the door of our hotel room.

I knock on the door of the room next to mine and Dallon opens it.

"Hey babe." I say, kissing him quickly.

"I'm gonna go now, okay?"

The taller man smiles and nods, moving some loose hair out of his face.

"Love you." He replies quietly.

I furrow my eyebrows and take a step closer to him.

"Is everything okay, Dal? I can stay if you want. "

He lets out a breathy laugh.

"I'm fine Bren. I'm just really tired from this show. I'm going to sleep early tonight. Mkay?"

"Okay. Call me if you need me for anything at all!" I say.

"I will I will! Zack is waiting for you, go have fun."

I kiss him one more time and walk away.

Tonight is going to be good.

Dallon:

I shut and lock the door and walk over to my bed, flopping down lifelessly.

I'm extremely tired. Even with Brendon being cautious and suspicious of my eating habits and keeping an almost constant eye on me, I've managed not to eat for the past two days. He's been so busy with having to hire Zack and deal with me.

I feel horrible that I caused all of this.

If I wasn't such a fuck up, Brendon wouldn't be so stressed and worried right now. He loves being on tour and on stage and meeting fans, and I've definitely taken the blissful joy out of those things for him. He feels like he has to check up on me all the time. And I guess maybe it would make him feel better to know that I'm doing okay, but I'm not.

I turn over and notice that Spencer is already asleep in his bed.

He must be tired too.

I lay there for a couple more minutes letting my thoughts engulf me when I'm pulled out of my trance by my phone buzzing.

"@brendonurie mentioned you in a tweet"

Great.

Does he not remember what happened last time he mentioned me? Does he not remember that all the fans hate me? Fuck.

I click on the notification.

The tweet reads "@DallonWeekes always misses out because he goes to sleep early." with an attached picture of a shit ton of alcohol.

He's going to be so dead in the morning.

I can't stop myself and before I know it I'm scrolling through the comments, reading about how boring and lame I am and wondering why people can't just keep their opinions to themselves.

Not that they're wrong.

Now that I think about it, Brendon would be so much happier with a band mate that would go out and drink with him. A bandmate that he didn't have to watch over all the time. A band mate that he didn't feel like he had to be careful with.

Brendon would be happier with Ryan.

My breaths turn shallow and my hands start to shake as I set my phone down on the bed and pull at the sleeves of my sweatshirt.

He's better than you.

He's thinner than you.

He's so much more fun than you.

Tears start to run down my face as I tug on my hair, trying to stay grounded and quiet as not to wake up Spencer.

I stand up, still shaking, and attempt to navigate my way to the bathroom where I can close the door and let out my cries quietly, in a muted way.

I get there and I shut the door as quietly as possible with my shaking hands, almost dropping to the floor before I notice myself in the mirror.

God, no wonder Brendon went out without you, you look terrible.

It's no shock that the fans dislike you; you're not pretty like Ryan.

I tell myself as I slide down the door to the small bathroom floor.

I'll never be pretty like Ryan. It's not worth trying. It's not worth trying to stop putting scars on my body just because Brendon says that he loves me.

It's not worth it.

I tell myself, reaching for my bag of toiletries.

I pull out my razor and examine it.

I stop for a moment, finally getting one good breath in.

Do I really need to do this?

You could call Brendon. A voice in the back of my mind says.

And I know I could, but I don't need Brendon right now.

I need this. I deserve this. And no "I love you" will ever be enough to change that.