Imagine Knowing Him (Ryden)

Chapter 25

Ryan's POV:

Days. It's been days now, since I kicked Brendon out of my life. But, obviously, I can't think about anything else. And every time I think about him, I feel the back of my eyes prickling. How could he do this to me? Maybe, somehow, people think I'm overreacting, that he told me he loved me for being me and not being the musician.

But he lied to me, betrayed me for months. Months in which I felt on top of the world, because finally, after all this years of hurt, because everybody I met was using me, I thought I found someone that thought my personality was special not my job. But no, life's coming at me again. It's slapping me in the face.

I feel miserable, I'm again my pathetic little self. Like after I left Dan.

I thought Brendon was special, I thought he didn't make mistakes, I thought he was the one. How could I be so wrong about him? I was lulled by him, thinking he liked what I really am, but how can I be sure, that he didn't play with me the whole time?

Sure, he wasn't as obvious as Dan, I gotta give Brendon some credit, he is not dumb. And maybe, maybe he wasn't faking it, maybe he liked me genuinely and didn't care about my job, my money or my fame. I mean we pretty much kept our relationship a secret and he was perfectly fine with it. But...

No, I just can't. He hurt me. He hurt me so much, I never thought someone would hurt me that badly ever again. It's worse than with Dan. In fact, it's a lot worse.

How do I not know, he didn't set all this meeting shit up? The first interaction with him was in front of my house, maybe he knew where I lived. There is a lot of personal information out there, literally everybody knows about my whole life.

I mean, shit, we bonded over fucking Aladdin. I even remember the interview, in which I said that was my favourite Disney movie, maybe he knew I liked Tim Burton. He could have set up every conversation we ever had. So how am I supposed to know that I fell in love with Brendon Boyd Urie and not George Ryan Ross III No. 2?

Those are the thoughts that pass my mind every single second of the day. I'm not even myself anymore, I'm just laying in bed, drinking whatever I see first in the little liquor store next to my apartment complex, smoking.

I never smoked. I thought it was a hideous habit and I never wanted to start. My dad did that too, apart from the excessive drinking. But the relief I feel whenever I light a new cigarette and take the first drag of it, is overwhelming. It calms me so much. And after just a couple of days, I turned into a chainsmoker.

I cry a lot, but after a long time just crying, I feel numb and just stare at my sickening white ceiling and then I crave a cigarette.

I'm broken.

He broke me.

Sometimes, just at really rare moments, I'm wondering, if he feels the same. Or maybe he's over me already. Just needed me for the rush of the moment, but honestly didn't care when it will be over. I didn't even recognize how committed I was to him. I feel it now though.

I hear my front door open from the spot in my bed, that I haven't left, since my last visit at the store to buy probably 20 different types of booze and a month load of Marlboro's and I barely have half of that left.

I hear footsteps slowly making its way over to my bedroom. Please don't come inside, I can't stand any kind of company now. Especially not the one's who is coming through the door now.

"Eww.. Ryan, it stinks in here." Spencer scolds at me while opening the curtains of the window to let the blinding sunlight in. "Oh, shut up, Spencer." I scoff back at his nasty remark.