Gay Rehab (Ryden Fanfiction)

Chapter 2: We can never go home.

   It took us two hours to drive to the hell mansion. I fought falling asleep because that would mean my head would on fall on one of the men's shoulders and I think I would get tazzered for that. I mean just think about where I'm going. No physical or eye contact with men. Well that's what I read on the pamphlet.

    The gates to a grey mansion opened up and they drove us in, the gate closing loudly which made me flinch. The locks were put in place on the gate and I gulped. This really does look like a prison.

   There are even guards in some places, a garden, back forest area, lunch tables, just outdoor places to relax. I'll be there most of my free time. There's even a fucking school in here, so I'm not getting out of classes when I live at my damn school.

    The car parks in the front and the men let me out. I got out and got all my stuff, looking at the gigantic mansion.

    They say there are different floors for different services, Homo teens are on the third floor as I was told. I don't know why they agreed to have all homo teens on the same floor but it's there service not mine.

   I look around the front and see other cars parking and teens walking out of them with the same expression I have. Were all thinking the same thing: This is so fucking stupid.

   I was taken into the quite large front door and I was met with every single little thing all fancy like. What is this? A five star boarding school? I mean we do have uniforms but I don't think I want to wear mine, I like to express myself.

   I look around curiously. Everything was huge. Paintings covered the walls, floors were wooden, the walls were cream, and the space was huge.

   I was taken upstairs, the men not letting me look around enough. Bastards. They take me to the third floor and down the hall, in front of a room that said 138. This must be my room, I'm guessing no roommate either.

  "Here's your key. Get settled and then come down to the first floor, east wing for lunch." One of the broad men said, forcing a key into my hand and walked down the hall.

   I roll my eyes and unlock my door, getting inside and lugging my stuff as well. I guess they can't help homos with their damn bags? I sigh and take a look at the interior. Boring, small, twin bed bedroom. It has a dresser, book case, desk, and closet. I don't need that much space.

   I go and start to put my stuff away in the right places. After I finish I put on a new coat of thin eyeliner and walk out of my bedroom door. I go down stairs and head to the east wing, getting lost in the halls a couple times. No going to lie.

   I finally made it to the kitchen and almost fainted. So much smoke and grime and people. God. I get in line and slide down the options, trying to get the stuff that doesn't look like cat food. This is so gross.

  At my old school even our food wasn't this bad. I mean you would think since this place was so fancy they could afford real food. We are just prisoners with a nice scenery.

   I decided to eat outside instead of the cafeteria of cliques. Not my place to be. I stride along the grass to a nice bench and table, sitting down and starting to eat what was on my try. I look around the nice scenery and sigh. I don't want to be here and those walls look too high to climb.

  I look down at my food and something startles me when someone sits on the other side of the bench, reading a book. I hesitantly look over and see a boy, looks about my age with thick, brown, curly locks. Wears eyeliner and a nice lanky frame. He's gorgeous. I better not fuck this up.

  I clear my throat and he doesn't look over. I clear my throat again and he gives me a side glance before looking back at his Hemmingway book. I tap my hands on the table, causing it to vibrate.

  "Can I help you?" The cute boy turns to me and asked. I put on a grin and hold out my hand. "I'm Brendon Urie. I'm new here in this hell hole." I say with a smirk and he doesn't looked amused by my outgoing intro. Come on, that took a lot of the little energy I have. "And you are?" I add quietly.

  "Ryan Ross, I've been in this hell hole for years." He said and shakes my hand. His hand is really soft, just saying. "So what are you here for?" He asks me and my smile fades.

  "I'm gay." I say quietly.

  "Me too. Let me guess, rough parents?" He questions and my eyes widen in surprise.

  "Yeah, how'd you know?" I ask this boy that is gay like me. He shrugs and looks back at his book.

  "Why did you come up to me?" I ask him and notice his posture. Slouched but lean in a good way, it fits him.

  He chuckles and turns to me. "Your at my table, so I still get to sit here." He says and my eyes widen a little, getting up and stumbling.

  "Sorry about that, I'll just go sit by that tree. Carry on." I say and walk away. Well that was a little rude but I mean it was his spot so I can't blame him. I wouldn't want strangers at my place of peace.

   I go sit on the ground near an oaktree and continue eating, looking over at Ryan a couple times.

  Someone sits by me and it's not Ryan, sadly. It's a man with a beard and brown hair, looks happy as fuck if you ask me. "Hey, I'm Jon and you look really left out." He slurs a bit. He's most definitely high.

   "Am I in your spot?" I ask, kind of annoyed. He shakes his head and waves his hand.

   "No bro, just kicking it with some newbies." He grins and lays down, messing with the grass. "What are you here for?" He hums and I gulp again. I'll have to answer that question a lot.

   "Homosexuality. You?" I ask him and he giggles.

  "Weed, drug addiction." He chuckles and steals my french fry. I don't even know this guy.

  "And yet your still smoking weed." I chuckle and shake my head.

  "And yet your still checking out guys." He shoots back and motions over at Ryan, the boy that was reading Hemmingway. I roll my eyes.

  "Whatever, you can't cure homosexuality anyway." I tell him and finish my lunch.

   "True." He sighs and I nod.

    All these people are like me, they all agree that Homosexuality is okay.