12 | only love

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august 20th

- yo i'm back from camp!! it was real fun and i'm super alive because brand new's new album saved my life and it feels like forever since i've posted even though it's only technically been a week ah. also holy shit this chapter is so long please enjoy.

anyways this song is only love by mumford & sons and it's really real real good and i Love it so much and, as always, i highly recommend listening to it. 

━ and you saw me low, alone again. didn't they say that only love will win in the end?

Brendon Urie had never understood why Snoopy was called Snoopy. This thought only crossed his mind when, late at night, he was doing his fair share of snooping. In retrospect, it wasn't his fault that Ryan had left his email right open and ready for inspection, he had essentially begged to use Brendon's computer in the first place, so Brendon did have a right to take a glance at what was in Ryan's inbox.

A lot were from a mysterious woman named Maria Maciel. The alliteration warmed Brendon's heart, but the continuous emails from her to Ryan confused him. And, of course, he wanted to know what she was saying but opening the emails led to a whole new breach of privacy that Brendon was going to go ahead and roll with because curiosity killed the cat, not the human.

Maria Maciel's emails were opened, and hey, holy shit. Holy shit. Brendon read and reread Ryan's emails from her, flipping back and forth between them, connecting them with those ones from that company that he thought were spam-

Holy shit.

Ryan was famous.

Not exactly famous, really, but more well known that anyone Brendon had ever met. A writer, of course he was a writer, but Brendon had always been under the impression that he was the unsuccessful type of writer that wrote and smoked and drank coffee and used typewriters but never got anywhere in life. The kind of writer that complained about their work being perfect but "no one ever wanted to read it!" That was Brendon's whole reasoning for moving in because he thought Ryan was one of those starving artists who would end up suicidal with some office job except Ryan was fucking published and a hell of a lot smarter than Brendon had ever thought to give him credit for.

Snapping the stale gum in his mouth, Brendon shifted his weight and brought the laptop up closer to him. As he went from website to website and email to email, he discovered more and more about Ryan that he never thought he would, jesus, he wrote a book. And Snoopy's name still didn't make sense to Brendon but this snooping adventure had brought him into a whole other world.

And Brendon wanted to read Ryan's damn book.

He got up earlier than he ever willingly would the next morning and skipped getting coffee to take the bus to a different part of town where the one place he had resolved never to return to was housed. It was unusually bright for Seattle and Brendon had the feeling that Ryan would be staying inside because of that, christ, Ryan.

Brendon liked thinking about Ryan, especially these days when Sarah came up in his mind a little too often. He didn't expect her to be at the bookstore, not at this time in the morning, but still felt completely unwanted as he walked inside the little place that she had been so proud of. He had an escape plan worked out in his head if she did end up being there, but. No.

Never a morning person, she had always said, and they had had long conversations about coffee and energy drinks and sugar rushes to keep them awake instead of the actual things they discussed themselves; being homeless and tired had never been fun but at least words and each other could manage to improve things, even if it was only marginally.

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