{"@attributes":{"version":"2.0"},"channel":{"title":"Just Like Heroin","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/","description":"Just Like Heroin - LiveJournal.com","lastBuildDate":"Sat, 24 Oct 2009 09:18:01 GMT","generator":"LiveJournal \/ LiveJournal.com","image":{"url":"https:\/\/l-userpic.livejournal.com\/80634823\/14085812","title":"Just Like Heroin","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/","width":"100","height":"100"},"item":[{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/24602.html","pubDate":"Sat, 24 Oct 2009 09:18:01 GMT","title":"Hey so you should check this out.","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/24602.html","description":"
<\/a>scarcepairs<\/b><\/a><\/span>
a fanfiction community for uncommon pairings in band rps<\/b>

It's our firm belief that there is not enough variety out there in bandom and what variety there is, it's scattered around and it's not often posted in communities. So join<\/b> Scarce Pairings, where all that variety can<\/i> be posted.<\/center>
","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/24602.html?view=comments#comments"},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/23986.html","pubDate":"Mon, 17 Aug 2009 08:45:06 GMT","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/23986.html","description":"

It's been a really long time since I've written anything in here. I basically just lurk tumblr constantly and rant as necessary. I've been down and out for lord knows how long. Every day just feels like it's getting a little worse, like that underlying feeling of doom, woe and instability is finding it's way back outward every minute of every day. I feel out of control, weak and scared constantly, my anxiety is almost always a constant problem now and I hardly want to roll out of bed. I feel much like I'm failing myself and everyone around me but I can't really put a stop to that. I've also been completely, stupidly irritable. I've been judgemental and easily ticked off or even easily broken down. Every other hour I feel like I'm on the verge of tears or the brink of another break down or about to rip someone's head off. I want to be better. I want to be the vibrant thing I used to be. I want to fucking me okay. But everytime I find something that makes me happy, cheers me up, I feel like that's just too silly or not reasonable or not enough, or it will begin to deteriorate as I internally break it down until even that hurts. <\/span>Until there's nothing left.<\/span><\/em><\/p>

I've been writing a lot though, as a distraction. (Not close to being anything good but at least I'm doing something.) And also listening to a lot of cobra and midtown, as per usual. They do make me smile, even if right now even that hurts. <\/span><\/p>

As a sort of less emotional update: I had a job interview that flopped. It was awful and the woman was very pretentious. I can start applying for college in October for the May term. I get my car soon-ish (cavalier). I've driven on the road a few times. I hate television. Oh, and I've been all about making wishes and laying in my yard to watch the stars.

<\/span>I want something to go right.<\/span><\/p>

Edit:<\/span><\/p>

I just remembered! I've also been having the strangest dreams. For a week straight I had nightmares every night that I can't really clearly remember (but don't really want to). The next week I woke up almost everyday with tears in my eyes. One of those dreams did include Gabe, who apparently sat down an decided to talk out what's been up with me lately. It was extremely real and he was too nice, really. Last night there was something similar but with Travis McCoy and I was trying to set up some kind of game for my brother and all his friends. It's been nonsensical, honest.<\/span> I've been having spouts of not sleeping for almost days on end, and as of the past few days sleeping constantly - all day everyday.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/23986.html?view=comments#comments"},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22864.html","pubDate":"Fri, 08 May 2009 11:32:58 GMT","title":"While the city sleeps, we rule the streets.","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22864.html","description":"

So, this is totally going to be half-assed and probably has a million things missing but...that's what I get for waiting so long.<\/span><\/p>

April 29th, 2009 - The day of THE SCENE.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Pre-concert was mostly unexciting I guess. I was at Cindy's house dancing about and being generally excited. Dad picked us up and we listened to The Matches on the way there, then when he asked us who we were going to see I played a bit of FOB. As we were listening to America's Suitehearts we passed "Comfort Suites" and sort of lulzed ("AND C.S.! MY INITIALS! ...AND COBRA STARSHIP!" \\0\/) then a truck passed that had cookies all over it and said "Sweet deals!" (fuckin' Bob's. Ew) <\/span><\/p>

So, we got to the casino and I decided (I really should've asked Cindy's opinion, I just ASSUMED she wouldn't be hungry either since she's usually nauseous as well?) that we probably wont' be eating properly right now, Dad suggests afterwards and we okay it so we start wandering. As soon as I spot Dad heading toward that place where he always stares at coins foreverrrr I decide it's time for use to go wandering. We set up a meeting place for an hour later and me and Cindy take off. Almost automatically Cindy says, "You just wanted a cigarette." And, okay, maybe a little. But seriously, I sort of forgot and just was really antsy, okay?
<\/span><\/p>

So we go outside. Sing along to stupid songs, watch crazy scenesters file in, see some scene kids come out of a limo (several different times), realize there are a lot of small children and also very many "THAT guy" kids wandering about ("I totally could've worn my hoody, but then you wouldn't be able to find me amongst the thousands of others.") Basically, whenever we saw a scene kid with an outfit obnoxious enough that it makes you want to sob, we'd sing "I BLOW MY BRAINS OUT!" ("through my no-ose! ...funny, that song is playing right now. Oh, Matches.) Also: Purple hoodies. FUCKING ALGKAJGAOIJ Srsly. (SHOOT ME, SHOOT ME, SHOOT ME IN THE SMIIIILE. I'M GOIN' OUT OF STYLE!)
<\/span><\/p>

We went in and out several times, mostly because the scene kids made us like, itch <\/em>or something. On our way back at some point (right before we stopped into the bathroom) Alex Gaskarth from All Time Low passed us. At first glance I was like "OHAY IT'S ALEX!" but then of course I just thought "OHAY IT'S ANOTHER OF THE HUNDREDS OF SCENE BOYS WHO ALL LOOK ALIKE!" Of course, then I see these fangirls chasing after him, and oh my fucking god that girl in front was on a MISSION. She looked damned determined to catch his ass. Funny part is, Cindy didn't notice Alex, just some kid flanking him in a teal shirt who she said looked like Brent. I died after the fact about it. I sort of wish we stopped him and possibly went all crazy-old-jewish\/newyorker-smoker on his ass. ("lemme ride ya dick!" "lemme touch ya penis!")
<\/span><\/p>

They also were having a signing in the middle of the (mall) hall for Hey Monday and Metrostation, which of course made the crowding SO much worse. Cindy also kept saying in a high pitched voice "ZOMG TRAAAAAACE." then I'd just double over with laughter and smack her arm or something. It was funny seeing Cassadee IRL I suppose. The important part here though: when they left. They all went into Coach (and me and Cindy proceeded to lawl and joke about the ugly bags) and thent he fangirls started flocking. We heard someone loudly ask (as they passed) "WHO IS IT? SOMEONE'S IN THERE I KNOW IT!" so Cindy tells them "Metro Station." One of the girls turns around like Cindy has just cursed-the-holy-name-of-Pete-Wentz or something, so insulted <\/em>looking. We proceed to lawl.

Things I'm not delving into because I haven't started in on the actual show yet but are totally note worthy (shitty sentence is shitty!):  tutu's, "THIS. IS. SCENE!", general annoyance with the BLOBS OF SCENESTERS, lurking (They totally gambled earlier, I could've found their asses - I had plansss. Did not though. :[ *grabby!*). And so on :]

So. We didn't get patted down which was sort of kind of really surprising. All that planning on how to sneak in a camera if they were to not allow them and they don't even bother, just shine a light in Cindy's bag and we're done. As soon as we got in, before we got to our section, I stopped to ask the security where the smoking area was. ("Just in case, just wondering" "No, I understand. I'm a smoker.") When we sat in our seats I got sort of excited, sort of ecstatic <\/em>but then I was also a little boggled. We discussed the arena and the crazy fucking ads that were way too bright, and the fact that people were waving to eachother from across the arena everywhere. (Everyone knows everyone knows everyone... exceptus) Also: Parents. A Mom in front of us with her...11 year old I want to say, or 8. Then a little boy and his Mom and sister and her friend's I believe to my right. Then another Mom to Cindy's left. SURROUNDED. So we watched people mill around on the floor (we could've been there had I been a little quicker, same price! Then again, we wouldn't see shit if we were, so I think I'm cool.) and lurked on FOB's fun-guy there. WHY DON'T I KNOW HIS NAME, GUYS? Anyway, Cindy kept telling him to not fuck up the drums even though he'd obviously not hear her.

Let's move on to the actual show here. I'm getting babbly.

Hey Monday:<\/strong><\/u> I was really honestly going to be open minded, okay? I was<\/em>. I thought, "Hey, they aren't so bad." for...a  few minutes. It could've been grand! But until I figure out why after Cassadee pulled the mic away from her mouth I could still hear her, it's going to fuckin' bug me. I know she wasn't lip syncing, okay? She fucked up during the set, and she apologized for it...but, what the fuck? Backing track? What? I don't fucking get it guys. It wasn't god-awful I guess but I sort of lost the little respect I had for them somehow and they did only play like 3 or 4 songs so that's sort of terrible. I don't know.
<\/span><\/p>

Good point: some kid talked to them when they were doing the signing and they asked some girl to the prom for him. It was cute. During a smoke break I said something like "I hope that kid got his date to prom." Cindy was quick to tell me, yes, he did. She kissed him on the cheek. It was precious, really.

When they left the stage and the lights were back up we were eagerly awaiting them changing the banner so we knew who was up next so we could take our smoke break. We liked to\/wanted to assume that Metro was up next since they also aren't...very....good. Of course, when they come out and hang up these very vibrant, very pattern-y (yeah, shut up) banners that say "GET AWESOME" it was decided that Cobra was up next and I got excited but also sadfaced. They really should've gone later, my excitement shouldn't be worn off so soon (not that I wasn't amped for ATL a little and OBVIOUSLY FOB!). According to their tweets (which I saw  later) they were supposed to go on later too, fail. But yeah, we watched them set up because HAI not missing a minute of Cobra kthx. Most of their crew had on the new red Cobra hoodies that have the removable sleeves and I thought it was sort of funny. They also had awesome <\/em>music playing over the speakers whilst we waited. Lonely Island for example (I'M ON A BOAT MOTHERFUCKER! is awkward to say when you're afraid small children and their mothers may hear you), and something else that was awesome that I can't remember. We decided whoever chose the music before Cobra's set wins at life, srsly. Anyway...

Cobra Starship:<\/strong><\/u> algjaglajfawfgwa Oh, lord. I don't know where to fucking begin<\/em>, I didn't cry! I didn't. I contained my excitement just that little bit. I have so much to fucking throw in here and I know I'm going to miss a shitload. Sorry ahead of time for this. Since I waited so long to write this the most I remember about their intro was that it was amazing, I was freaking out with excitement (mostly inwardly. mostly) and Ryland said "Connect-i-cut" and I lulzed then me and Cindy both agreed that that is how we remember how to spell it all the fucking time. I'm going off my notes here. In my memory I can see everything that happened, hear some of it, but hell if I can remember everything in order anymore. So let's see. City Is At War was first and I'm pretty sure that was when Vicky fell, y\/y? I can't be fucked to look at the video and see if I'm right but they played that first and I'm fairly certain it was during the first song (if not the second). I didn't realize she fell, she was just kneeling on the floor when I noticed because Gabe went over to her and knelt down beside her, sort of stroked her cheek or something (it was adorable, I admit). After the fact, he pointed it out though. He had his arm around her and told us that she'd taken a fall there and that they all fuck up and it's cool because then we all get to laugh at them, and they're laughing too. After City Is At War was Kiss My Sass, which had a wonderful introduction. Gabe was going on about how they're living the dream and how awesome it is (between him and Ryland really) and about the fans, and then how if anyone ever gives you shit you just need to say three words. Obviously, you know what those three words are. It was grand. <3 Also: Pete Wentz. I forget when he came out but we definitely were like "Is that- that's Pete, right?" and then Gabe told either Ryland or the crowd "Hey can you shut the fuck up for a second" because of the 'important security announcement' or whatever the fuck. Of course, as per usual, Pete just yelled "ARE YOU READY?" at us. He did fangs up and scurried his little ass off stage again after that. (After like, kissing Gabe - not like REALLY kissing but ya know - and having sort of start dancing all all up on him for a second. Or trying to.) Anyway, back on track. Uh. Smile For The Paparazzi was next...I think? Then Pete Wentz Is The Only Reason We're Famous, Bring It\/Hollaback Boy, and Guilty Pleasure (...close if not actually right). Just so I can name off the awesome bits and not make this epically TLDR, even though it already is.

So, funny\/epic\/amazing\/fun things via Gabe\/Ryland\/Cobra in general: "They say that Ryland's got soul!" - kiss my sass. "For all you metal heads out there, throw your horns up" - really, Gabe? Really? This was unexpected. The whole Samuel L Jackson's religion being "the cobras" and joining it and showing us how to do fangs up, sure...devil horns? You win. Gabe also talked about Midtown for about ten whole seconds, said something about his band that he was in "probably before most of you were born." which made me sadface a lot. Which, on that note: 8 YEAR OLDS AND THINGS AROUND. When he swore it felt sort of awkward? But it didn't hit me til afterward. Like, I was way too into the set and out of it. So uh, I don't remember much of the amazing banter between Gabe and Ryland (srsly, it was just them mostly) but hey, DANCE PARTY \\0\/ and then Ryland talking about (see: trying to talk about) how he and Suarez used to work at Mohegan (I freaked out, man). Gabe, of course, cut him off to tell us that it's a true story then finished the story FOR him. In my notes I told myself to REMEMBER THESE IF YOU CAN SRSLY <3! but uh, hahah, yeah. Vague. But yeah, their banter was infact win and made me epically excited and algkajowgijagwa Dude. So, moving forward from their ~awesome being. Gabe made a shout out to William and Travis before Bring It and Cindy was like "You mean your boyfriend? You mean your other boyfriend?" I lawled. That kid from Metro came out for Bring It. (Not Trace, the other one. wtf ever) At some point, I think during the dance party bit? Gabe went on his knees behind Ryland and put his hands up and it LOOKED like he was going to grab his ass. I guess he could've been like, praising him...still looked like a butt grab. He did cuddle Ryland during part of their set, it was adorable. Gabe's dance moves were epic and amazing and fun as per usual, and he lifted his shirt and laid on the stage and raped his band, as per usual. It was pretty awesome. He sort of like, hip thrusted by Nate's drum kit, cuddled Ryland, and then used Vicky as a prop (lolol) for a few songs, like City Is At War. Oh, and sort of like...waltzed\/slow danced with Vicky? Another thing: He threw his mic stand a lot. He usually let it fall afterward, he caught it in his hand like once. We felt bad for the poor guy who kept running out to pick it up and bring it side stage. His job sucks. (SRSLY. like...5 or 6 times? Fail. You're just doing it on purpose now!) Along with fangs up (duh), and the horns, there was fist pumping (not just during guilty pleasure's little dance there), and then what we would call something along the lines of "Michael hands" ("AND BRING 'EM DOWN LIKE THIS." ). When bandoms collide.
<\/span><\/p>

Can you tell I was excited about Cobra? Still not entirely over it. As soon as they left the stage I wanted them to come back. GIVE ME MORE. FUCK METRO. :X But...next time? *grabby hands* 
<\/span><\/p>

After them I totally needed a smoke break so we left for one. We made it out to the smoking area and I was all jittery and crazy. Ended up calling Greg and telling him how awesome Cobra was and how he should stalk twitter fo us. When Cindy died out her cigarette she heard some girl saying "You know he's from yer-a-gay right?" And I sort of died of laughter. (Uruguay? winfail, girl.) It took me longer to finish up because I was all over the place still.
<\/span><\/p>

So, when we went in All Time Low had JUST started.
<\/span><\/p>

All Time Low<\/strong><\/u>:<\/u><\/strong> I didn't write very many notes for them. They were good, they were just. See, I wasn't expecting them to be so very bold and dirty. Their banter was fun too, what with the "You're an asshole." "Hey, fuck you." or something like that (which by the way, take note: SMALL CHILDREN. IT FEELS AWKWARD!) but then they were just very very perverted. Butter has been forever tainted (I heard some kid say "I'll never look at butter the same again" on our way out of the venue, it made me lawl BUT TRUFAX!) by those boys because they wanted to lick it off our bodies. They also mentioned sucking Hey Monday's faces, "Glad to be in your town, your state, your world. I don't know, between your legs possibly." lots of other ~sexual things. Someone even threw their bra on stage, the stage crew snagged it and draped it over Jack's mic.
<\/span><\/p>

They played a great set though, even with all the awkward commentary, and they were funny and awesome. We called Cindy's sister during Dear Maria because she wanted us to and held the phone up for her to hear. It was goodtimes.
<\/span><\/p>

So, yeah. Dirtyboysaredirty. After they were gone, we knew who would be next (DUH) so we got our asses out of there and had another smoke. Then we lurked on merch and I decided I wanted to buy a shirt. Cindy offered to buy me one but I wanted to do it myself, besides we wouldn't of had enough. We went out and I ended up getting money from dad (all my money has gotten loaned to my parents and spent on my graduation gown and what not \/0\\) and we quickly told him how the show was going. Cindy called her Mom as we walked back through the mall toward the arena again and told her about the night thus far also. When she said "Cobra was pretty good." I sort of clicked my tongue said, "Pretty good?" and she was like "What? What do you want me to say? Okay, Cobra was awesome<\/em>." and I was pleased. She did say she was impressed. As it should be. <3 win.

So, uh....

<\/span><\/p>

Metro Station:<\/strong><\/u> Merch! mmmmmmm NACHOS! Some girl passed us who had my button down on (lolol should've worn the tie-dye. my options were limited, okay? whatev). Then whent he set was over these little girls gathered across from us near the fountains and shouted "OH MY GOD, THEY SUCKED!" and like, ~discussed together. We lawled quietly and I sing-songed "wiiiiin" and Cindy said something like "Could've told you that." And then we finished our nachos and went in :] Goodtimes.
<\/span><\/p>

We did hear them a little, to be fair, just distantly. Didn't want to go back in til the lights were back on to begin with, that just made it an easier decision.
<\/span><\/p>

Fall Out Boy:<\/u><\/strong> First off, whilst they set up something awesome happened in itself. This guy in a red flannel (who we decided looked like the older version of this kid, Jordan. And maybe sort of like Perez? idkidk) was dancing to whatever stupid song was playing with a few of his friends, just fucking around. All of the sudden, after a few minutes, everyone <\/em>was watching him (mind you, it sold out and it seats about 10,000? Hai two levels [three if you count the floor]!) and cheering for him. The guy got fuckin' famous at our show dude. It was grand. He went around signing autographs and taking pictures for a while after that. It's on youtube somewhere, Cindy found it.

So, I'd talk about all the details but seriously, I'm getting tired of writing this and it's WAY WAY WAY WAY too long already. Let's try and make this painless for us all. The intro: you know about this if you read Pete's blog. Very politically charged with their costumes and video clips that were sort of mesmerizing and amazing and really got their message across (whilst being sort of creepy). MVandP Firm ftmfw! Pete seemed very  unenthusiastic and we weren't sure if it was part of the act or if he was really just really down that day. I suggested maybe it was because his blackberry kicked the can like he tweeted earlier that day.
<\/span><\/p>

Whilst they left to change they showed a sort of funny video on the screens with footage of the other guys (everyone but Pete) sitting around at a table, Joe was eating cereal I think, spliced in with Pete getting dressed to go on stage. You couldn't really hear what he was saying but he was talking, sort of telling us what he was doing as he was getting ready, mumbling to himself. When I realized he was going to take his shirt off I sort of sadfaced and prepared to get my ears blown out. It was a fun time though. Especially since you heard him say "back on stage!" then they were back. It was nice.
<\/span><\/p>

Let's just name off the amazing things that happened during their set: Wonderful <\/em>energy, touching words and a political and strong point (Pete also said we - the crowd - looked like we'd grow up to be great lawyers and hookers though I do believe, in the beginning), the sort-of-waltz with Patrick and Pete (they weren't touching but it was nifty they way they like, went around one another like that), the message on the back of Pete's bass is still there (on the tape. Oh, MVandP \\0\/), Pete's air thrusting ("he looked like a turtle on it's back!" ...my mind. It was attractive, him thrusting - since when did he get an ass by the way? - from his spot laying on the ground and all I could think of was a stranded turtle), awesome lights (nopyro :X), Joe's new hair cut sort of took me off gaurd, it's not awful though! Lots of energy and dancing! The cutesy\/gay moments were sort of epic :X <3 They covered Hey Ya (so I don't like this song...but still sort of cool?), Pete talked about Gabe being his best friend and how he'd take the bullet for him and what not. He was talking about the bands and someone gave cobra the thumbs down. He got so carried away he forgot to even mention All Time Low til Alex came out to sing with them. Cassadee did at some point too >\\ Uh. What A Catch was just made of all sorts of win. The way they did it with the screens and the different footage of each cameo was really awesome (Gabe was dressed sort of nicely and was in the street, no idea what Travis was doing...brushing his teeth I think? Brendon laying in bed and playing with his dog - Bogart I think, Alex on the beach or something? William...in a bathtub? lawl. etc!). Fucking amazing.
<\/span><\/p>

There's more, I know it, but God I'm writing a lot.
<\/span><\/p>

Anyway. People were leaving after like the second or third encore? idk. We were like "wtf? why are they leaving?" and the guy infront of us explained that it was for the signing (yeah, FOB signing after the show. Lining up. We weren't about to miss the show though, come on). And to wrap up: FOB generally OWND the night, okay? Well, them and Cobra, I can't say either were my favorite just because it's really a toss up for me. Lovelovelove.

So, then we left because the line at Johnny Rocket's was crazy and even if the buffet was open it would've been expensive AND Geno's just had pizza and a huge line too. ( I left sort of inwardly reluctantly. I wanted to lurk more. NEXT TIME, DUDE! Srsly. I can't express myself any further because I'd feel like a loser but... lagjwoaij) We went up to the parking garage after we checked out where jimmy buffets was (I finally got to see what Mom's always on about). THEN, we came back in and got some donuts at Krispy Kreme and some beverages because HAI lots of not fun traffic in the garage. I sort of wish we lurked on FOB just to like...be there I guess. Maybe take pictures. Because HAI, you guys win at life sort of a lot <3
<\/span><\/p>

But yeah, the ride home was uneventful. I was giddy and still in the clouds and LOVED SO FUCKING MUCH OF THAT NIGHT. I meant to write this when those feelings were ripe and I had it all still stuck in my mind quite fully but I didn't find the will or energy or attention span. I did write a stupid letter to Gabe sort of, that would never be sent. I do things like that I guess, letters to no one and stuff. I reread it the next day and laughed a lot. \/stupid (I LAUGHED MYSELF TO SLEEEEEP. Thanks, Say Anything :]) So I'm going to end it here (finally), even though I feel like I missed a lot. WHO REALLY WOULD READ ALL THIS? HOLYFUCK.
<\/span><\/p>

But hey, has pictures from our show: http:\/\/www.flickr.com\/photos\/sam-litwin\/
<\/span><\/p>

or just google\/youtube\/flickr search "*bandnamehere* mohegan sun" maybe even throw in the year. Good times. OR lurk on Vicky's tweets about when she fell for that video footage. (lurking on youtube the next day brought the lolz. and flickr won my heart. MEEEEMORIES!)<\/span><\/p><\/a>


<\/span><\/p>

Holy shit! Done. Getting ready to lurk on On Air with Ryan Seacrest for Cobra's new song in like...an hour :] Today WILL be good, I will make sure of that somehow, okay?

<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22864.html?view=comments#comments","category":["fall out boy","metro station","music","concerts","creepers","scene","love","all time low","hey monday","cobra starship","remember these days"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22536.html","pubDate":"Mon, 04 May 2009 08:20:58 GMT","title":"I'm everywhere that you go...","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22536.html","description":"

We're going to play catch up. Just a warning.<\/span>
 <\/p>

 <\/p>

Going backwards apparently, since this bit will be the shortest.<\/span> My dream tonight<\/span>! Starring Gabe Saporta (FML). This time there were no concentration camps, zombies or like, stuck elevators. For once, a famous person did not create my nightmare.<\/span><\/p>

I remember bits and pieces. I know we were at his house, except his Mom lives there too so maybe he lives with his parents? I don't know. I don't think I knew him like, at all, we'd just met or something. When he needed my phone number I told him it was my Dad's house and he wrote something really fuckin' cryptic and weird that made sense at the time but it doesn't anymore in his phone for it.<\/span> It was like, something about him being the largest finger to like, represent testing the waters so basically like, he'd need approval to talk to me from my Dad, and then finished the huge sentence with something about me being worth it because I'm awesome except again, cryptic and fuckin' weird. Moving on.<\/span> We were in his room [shitty futon bed?] and he was turning off the tv (...he was oddly childlike. kthx) when his mom passed and said something about doing something for his dad and that was right before I left, basically. We sat and talked though, not that I remember about what. I started crying at some point?<\/span> I also vaguely remember it raining outside. Wtf, my dreams.<\/span> FMLFML<\/span>. Maybe it's let's confuse\/taunt Caitlin day and I didn't realize.<\/span><\/p>

Next, my day! \\0\/<\/span><\/p>

Before we jump into that let me just say, I think I'm sick? :\\ I keep burping and it's got this gross taste and makes my stomach feel funny and hai, if I have a stomach virus? UGH.

Oh, so now I sneeze. Fail.<\/span>

So, onward to my day...well, yesterday now.<\/span> I didn't actually go to sleep til about 7 o'clock in the morning because I couldn't\/wanted to fix my schedule after a while. So I wrote little tidbits of different versions of fic. What I ended up with? Nothing of interested, a couple of AU and crack!fic ideas that I can't work floating in my head and a couple paragraphs [some unrelated to one another] that I don't know what to do with. I'm going to try again later. So anyway, passed out at 7:30-ish even though I knew Ellen would get out of their breakfast fundraiser at like...10:30. She called and I ignored it until like, 1:30. We had a bit more awkward, stumbly conversation on the phone and then she came and got me (driving, lawl). We decided on the Main St cafe since we used to go there like, every week. As soon as the waiter came over and was handing over menus she stopped him and we were like "We already know." and she ordered us a basket of fries and two waters. Our usually. (lolololol omfg, I felt cool)<\/span><\/p>

We talked about Abby and her baby (I saw a picture and okay, maybe I'm a sucker, but it was cute, you know?) and how Ellen things it's going. She says he's a good guy and Abby is doing well, that she's probably really ready for this, (as ready as anyone CAN be) and that's sort of really c<\/span>omforting. <\/span><\/p>

A lot of our converstion tonight was filled with "Do you remember when..." bits where we just went off on stories about all those years ago when the group of us were inseparable. We talked about college some and she told me I totally need to come stay at her dorm when she's out there (ohai massachusetts, I can has you?) and I told her about how epic CCMT is, I guess. We ended up talking about what happened between then - when we stopped talking - and now and it was long and complicated and I couldn't stop laughing. She told me I was strong or level-headed and all this stuff and all I could think was "or crazy". Then it got sort of awkward for a whole of like two minutes where I was like "Sorry I don't remember what the fuck I did. I'm sure it was bad though, so sorry." and we both laughed awkwardly and sort of moved on. <\/span><\/p>

I grabbed a sugar packet before we left, just like we always used to, and we went to Ellen's house. Murph saw me and smiles, seemed pretty genuine when he said "Hey, it's nice to see you!" and it made me want to cry a little. If he does think less of me, I feel pretty shit about that. They very nearly like, adopted me. I had my own chair at the dinner table that was labeled as my chair basically and they offered their home to me when Mom was being unbarable. (Looking back on the rough times I went through with Ellen around makes me both said and ecstatic. I could probably talk about each and every memory for hours at a time, really.) Shea, her sister, is almost 7 now I think (she has our birthday, Cindy! :]) and that's insane to me. She's so big! We watched the video from Ellen's birthday in 8th grade and Shea was only what? 2? She was ADORABLE (still is I do suppose, just saying). And then the video of pre-8th grade dance. Oh god, and shipoopi. We were going to watch "The Music Man" but then we realized it was the recording from channel 3 when we went there and me and Ellen both were like "NONONONONONO *switches off*"<\/span><\/p>

So then we decided on a walk. We went down toward the park by Arts In Motion because obviously, we had a couple Arts In Motion classes there and we even met near there after I got back from Tennessee. when my grandma passed away (she gave me puppy for that trip. I was so grateful, he never left my side. Now I have MY puppy, that's sort of funny)<\/span>

We were looping up and heading toward Cindy's when Jacob drove passed. He turned around and picked us up (although I sort of liked walking in the drizzle) and we went to his house. His toe was bleeding from running too much because he apparently referee's soccor for money, and that was gross. Duncan wasn't there because he was out with Jacob's parents and they wouldn't be back for quite some time.<\/span><\/p>

So we talked plenty more. They told me about the incident with Duncan and Ellen and a scooter where they both ended up in the hospital. All I could think was that if I'd been around I probably would've been bawling in the waiting room like a pansy. <\/span>Then Jacob got hungry so he decided he was going to make rice. We went into the kitchen and as I was walking in (by the way, their house brings back about a million memories. I felt like, ridiculously stupid being like "Hey remember this time!" all the time but it was fun) Jacob goes into the doorway and is like "where'd the butter go? the butter is missing!" and I couldn't help but like, gasp and fall into a fit of laughter. Then I went on to explain how butter has been forever ruined and neither of them knew who the hell All Time Low was (still going to write about the concert, I swear!). He asked if I could eat things that used melted butter if I didn't know it was in there. It old him yes, as long as I didn't have to watch it being made\/make it, I guess. I was scowling at the pan.<\/span><\/p>

We sat and had tea and some of Jacob's rice and listened to Say Anything for a while. It was strange, almost automatically, when I got in the car and heard what was playing on Ellen's ipod we started talking about bands. The Format she knows about and enjoys, I told them both about Empires and Razia's Shadow when we were talking about plays. It sounds like Jacob and Ellen sort of love Say Anything and we had a grand discussion about that too (Punk Goes Crunk too), and then when Ellen was talking about seeing a Grateful Dead coverband. It was weird how we could just jump right back in with music. I was like, amazed by the shit we still had in common. (talked about my hippy friends, lolol) We talked about movies too, they hadn't seen Stay yet. We basically swapped some music and movie suggestions (and books when it comes to me. Chuck! \\0\/) and then geeked on several together. It was pretty fuckin' awesome.<\/span>

Then Jacob downloaded Empires \\0\/ and Travis showed up (WHO HAS A BEARD FOR THE PLAY, WUT? Damn.) and then Lena showed up (their exchange student. I'm probably totally misspelling her name too. I do not know) and there was talk of straightening Jacob's hair so I offered up my straightener (which I forgot there) and we left again. This time, it was Travis's car since Ellen's was at home and Jacob's doesn't do well with weight apparently (shitty mini cooper is shitty). First thing I can think of to say once I'm in is "Is Travis a good driver?" and you can imagine my fright when both Lena and Ellen went all wide eyed and said "NO." Ellen went on to say, "You know how many times he's nearly killed himself?" and then Lena told her it's probably not a good idea to scare me like that. I buckled in.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

We survived, but when I ran in to get the straightener and razia's they pulled over RETARDED and then I had to run (and Ellen had to fumble to unlock it) and we took off pretty fuckin' fast because he was blocking traffic because he just pulled in diagnal behind this huge truck outside my house. It was retarded. We survived though!<\/span><\/span><\/p>

Back at the Freake's me and Ellen lounged on the couch while Lena and Jacob did their thing, straightening his hair. Travis watched Eddy Murphy and lurked Facebook. After his hair was down they combed it and parted it on the side so it matched Lena's hair, then he took it to another level. He broke out two Taken To The Sky shirts, one for both of them. Then, he used a towel and my hair tie and made himself boobs. He even went as far as to stuff a pillow in his pants (best picture ever. Travis undoing Jacob's pants with Jacob's head thrown back in what looks like ecstacy. Really, his balls HURT. :]) in the back of his pants. The sad thing is, when his ass was sticking out like WOAH all I could think was "BRENDINE!" and it just made it all the more hilarious. Then after about a million more pictures and just death by laughter, we were contemplating what else t<\/span><\/span>o do whilst playing with Jacob's hair. We talked about Disney movies. Me and Travis discussed The Jungle Book a little and I swooned over Aladdin and gleefully spoke of James And The Giant Peach. Then Jacob decided it was food time and they were planning what to make when I decided I was going to venture to Cindy's (I wasn't sure if it was possible or not but I figured I'd try). I gave hugs and gave Ellen like, two, before I took off. I spotted Cindy's mom's car so I just went home which was alright (I do miss my ipod though omfg. music! *grabby*), I liked the rain. Some kids were yelling behind me and I think they were attempting to make me look back by singing something at me (more like shouting) but all I heard was "Damn you walkin' FAST." and then warbling. I paid no mind. Good day was good, no douchebags.<\/span><\/p>

Play opens May 15th and I'd totally love to go. <\/span><\/p><\/a>

 <\/p>

Overall, AMAZING day. And now I haven't the energy to begin my concert recap because that was long enough and I totally left shit out. I'll do that next. After I attempt writing drabble today. Wish me luck?<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22536.html?view=comments#comments","category":["friends","happy times!","music","old friends"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22416.html","pubDate":"Sat, 25 Apr 2009 00:39:16 GMT","title":"Escape into the eerie night...","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22416.html","description":"In the dark I'm out of sight
Shadows on the alley wall
Are dancing like a lovers brawl

North south east and west
Foreign land is right and left
Don't let them see you cry
I didn't know which way was home
Ten degrees without a coat
Don't let them see you cry

I don't want to love you if love leaves me this cold
I don't want to love you if love is this alone

Silence couldn't stop the sound
The news and gossip got around
A whisper here whisper there
I do but don't know why I care

Eyes hang from the sockets of our faces
You said no and I don't think I can take it
This cars caving in
Rains on in the city traffic puzzle
Shifting pieces just like my stomach
Were both so upset
Love sick and were sick of it
Were both on the same page
Don't feel the same way<\/font><\/span><\/em>

<\/span>City Traffic Puzzle - The Hush sound
<\/span><\/strong>
<\/font>

So I brought myself down tonight, I just sort of lurked about on the internet out of sheer boredom and somehow I'm reduced to feeling precisely how I did when I was ten years old. Let's not regress so much. I should be able to be pleased with things right now, right? I shouldn't think and rethink so much. Everything. I want to give it a fucking rest.<\/span><\/p>

I want out. I want to sing and dance. I want to go to a movie or just sit and talk for hours on end. But then I want to read, I want to write. I always want something and it never feels like enough. What's up with me lately? Self degrading, self concious and just plain frustrating (to myself and everyone else).<\/span><\/p>

Let's try something new.<\/span><\/p>

This will be less shitty when I find the energy to be somewhat expressive and less vague. Maybe this'll bring on a new muse of sorts. Let's hope this change is for the better.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22416.html?view=comments#comments","category":["sadtimes","angsty whore","music"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22030.html","pubDate":"Mon, 13 Apr 2009 06:30:04 GMT","title":"More!","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22030.html","description":"

Gabe isn't as well. Gabe hasn't been well for almost three weeks now. (Since the day Brendon left, really.)Currently, he's spending his time counting ceiling tiles in his kitchen, too weak, too fucking upset, to move from where he passed out the night before. Without Brendon there to clean up the mess, the place looks like a disaster area and he's more than slightly sure that the living room will be much worse off. He doesn't even know most of (see: any) of the people who were there the night before, hasn't a fucking clue what the rest of the house looks like or what he'd done. He vaguely remembers having people here, yes. He also sort of remembers getting a ride here from some kids - barely legal he'd say, much less legal drinking age- and finishing off a bottle of jack daniels in the backseat of some stranger's car. He can't remember much more, a night drinking, a party, maybe some heroin somewhere along the lines. He doesn't want to think about that though. He's got a pounding in his head (and in his chest as far as he can tell. Anxiety. But that's probably a good thing, right? That means he's still breathing, still living, still physically<\/i> alive.  And really, at times that just might be suprising to him) and the sun coming in through the small window over the sink fucking stings<\/i>, and that's really all he can focus on right now.

He very nearly calls out for Brendon, for an aspirin and some water. Something to hold on to. Brendon, he's always there, he's always close and warm and caring. Gabe likes that, he likes that a fucking lot. Gabe, as self righteous as he may be, is needier than most. He needs attention, he needs someone close to him, he needs to feel as if he's got something stable to fall back on. That's why when the foundation beneath him seemingly fell out and he didn't have his career, his band, his music to support him - to pull him through when he starts to lose his head, like the drugs do (like Brendon does) - he fell apart. Gabe isn't selfish, just needy. That's how he sees it. <\/font><\/p>

Gabe really has every intent to lay there for the rest of the day, even if the throbbing at the back of his skull is getting sort of unbearable, but he can't. Because he's cold and he feels like he can't fucking breathe and he knows <\/i>he's having some kind of panic attack or some shit, you know? Which is exactly what he needs right now, a hangover and a fucking anxiety attack. He manages to get to the couch before he collapses again because his back is sore from sleeping on the hard tiled floor and his knees feel sort of weak. He turns onto his side to face the back of the couch, finds a blanket thrown over the back of the couch and pulls it down over himself. He thinks he might still have shoes on and he should probably take them off, but he can't be fucked.<\/font><\/p>

His mind, it's everywhere right now. Everywhere it shouldn't be. What Gabe should be concerned about is if he'll be able to make it to the toilet, or where Brendon keeps the aspirin, or why the living room window is open. Instead, he's thinking about the first time he met Brendon. Young, vibrant, fucking full of life and so fucking smart too. How he could wind up in this with Gabe, honestly, Gabe doesn't even fucking know at all. He's stuck around though, through and through. Where as the band, his old friends - everyone - left almost as soon as he started deteriorating, started being a little too argumentative, demanding, emotional and uncontrollable. Started doing drugs again, kept drinking. (but now he's got more time. More hours of thought and strain and fucking sulking. Now Gabe has an excuse.) Brendon has been around to talk him down or cheer him up even before the drugs, and until now he hasn't left. Not fucking once. Gabe thinks maybe he's fucked up more than he'd thought. He's pushed things too far. He's doing it all again.<\/font><\/p>

"I'm sorry." he groans to no one, pulls at his hair with his fingers, grits his teeth. "I want to be better. I want this to end." That's when he feels it. Even with the nausea, the headache, the sore limbs, it's the ache in his chest that's the worst. That emptiness he'd thought he'd gotten rid of, it was back with a vengeance. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, buries his face in the blanket as the tears come. He let's it run it's course (he calls it that because that's what it is when he's on heroin or speed or pot or- you know, anything. This isn't much different.), let's out moans, sobs, cries for help, as his body shakes and his nose runs and - God<\/i>, he hasn't done this, felt this, for such along time. Maybe with Brendon around he'd forgotten just how good things were getting, just how much it hurt without  him there. Just how fucking much he needs <\/i>him.<\/font><\/p>

Four counts in, five counts out. <\/i>"Bren," he gasps, clutches the blanket tighter, "I'm so stupid." Four counts in...<\/i><\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

Brendon is at Jon's house again. He's been thinking too much, trapped in his head, and so of course he winds up on Jon's doorstep. Jon knows what's going on, he understands. He makes it better somehow, usually.<\/font><\/p>

"No, absolutely not. Brendon, you've made it this long, why would you." Jon cuts off, paces a little, "You don't need that fucking asshole-"

"I'm worried<\/i>, Jon."

"Still!" Jon throws his hands in the air, shakes his head, "Why would you want to go back to that? Why would you fuck up your life like this?"

Jon is right and Brendon knows it. He wants to defend himself and say he doesn't, he won't go back, he's just concerned. But he knows all too well that Jon is totally fucking right because he asks himself the same things everyday when he thinks about going back, visiting or calling - he can't just not bother at all though. What if something happened? It's been three weeks. Three weeks. <\/i>That had to have been enough time for Gabe to at least understand Brendon is serious about all this. He's not fucking around anymore. He knows it's stupid, but he needs to know Gabe's okay. Needs to know he's alright - alive, even - without Brendon (even if that kind of hurts to think about in a way), as stupid as it is.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon gives in that afternoon, he pulls out his cellphone and calls up Gabe while he's watching some movie from the safety of his own bed. Gabe doesn't pick up but he calls back not five minutes later.<\/font><\/p>

"Brendon?<\/i>"<\/font><\/p>

"Yeah, hey." His voice quivers a little, cracks.

He can hear Gabe shuffling around, can practically see him trying to pull himself into a more upright position on the bed or couch or floor<\/i>. Then he just hears the frustrated sigh Gabe lets out when he gives up the effort. "I can't believe you-"

"I'm not going to argue with you, Gabe. I didn't call to-"

Gabe huffs, "Called." There's a long silence. Brendon chews at his lip, he didn't mean to be so defensive. He's starting to learn though, he supposes.

"Sorry." Beat. "How are you?"

"I miss you."

Brendon wishes he didn't get just a little bit excited at those three words. He shouldn't. "I know."

"Will you come back?"

"No."

"Why?"

"What'd you do last night?" Brendon doesn't want to play twenty questions here but he's not letting himself admit how much he misses Gabe. Then Gabe would just skate around the issue at hand - both the reason he called and the reason he left - and somehow, he'd get Brendon to come back and the whole cycle just starts again.

"I don't know."

"Are you okay?"

"No."

Brendon swallows hard, thinks. "Okay."

There's another silence. Brendon considers hanging up, telling Gabe he'll talk to him another time. Maybe<\/i>. (This was a mistake. He should start listening to Jon.) Then he hears Gabe let out a shakey breath, practically whisper into the receiver, "I want to quit this, Bren."

"Then do it."

"I can't."

"Well, why not?"

"I need you."

"Prove it."

A grunt from Gabe's end. Brendon rolls his eyes, begins again, "Alright then, I'm going to go -"

"I will."

"What?"

"I'll do it. I'll prove it, okay? I need you here, Brendon, like nothing else."

And maybe Brendon is a fool, maybe he's a fucking moron for not hanging up when he had the chance but he says, "Okay."

Before he hangs up he mumbles something about visiting on Friday. Gabe said he wants to do this, and he's doing it on his own this time. And he wants to do it for Brendon. He said he needs him, he misses him. To Brendon, that's about as close to 'I love you' as he thinks he has ever has and will ever get from Gabe. Gabe's got almost a full week (Six days, about) to prove Brendon wrong in doubting him, to prove he can do this, will do this.<\/font> If Gabe isn't at least trying then Brendon isn't even going to bother calling again. He promises himself he won't. <\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

He shows up that Friday alone even though when he told Jon, (and totally got scolded) Jon demanded he at least bring someone along. Jon swears that he'll kick the shit out of Gabe if he fucks with Brendon, and Brendon appreciates that (even if he thinks that's stretching it - he wouldn't want to see Jon hurt) but he needs to do this alone. Just this once.

Gabe takes a while to answer the door and Brendon's mind almost automatically pictures him passed out on the floor, throwing up in the bathroom, cleaning up some left over coke from the coffee table. (Gabe was always last minute with things, especially cleaning) When he finally opens the door though, Gabe smiles (a little tightly, forced) and gestures for Brendon to come in. He does, after staring for a while, taking in the fact that Gabe's up and dressed quite neatly (maybe even in clean clothes) and his eyes aren't dilated, or red and glassy. He thinks it's a good start, no doubt.

They talk for hours. Brendon takes note of the fact that Gabe's hand is shaking when he places it atop Brendon's while they're sat on the couch. Definitely takes note of the fact that the house is spotless<\/i>, which means Gabe had to have cleaned it himself. Gabe's put in effort, and Brendon feels like he can breathe easy again.

"I missed you too, you know." he states when things get quiet.

"Then why don't you come back? We can start over. Fresh. Clean<\/i>." Gabe sort of smirks here, amused by his own play on words. Brendon just shakes his head.

"Can't. Not yet."

Gabe is about to protest, Brendon can see it in his eyes. Instead he just blinks, frowns, whispers, "Okay. I'll- I can wait, yeah? I'll wait. I just need you around Brendon, and I didn't even realize until you were gone how much I- I just." Gabe lets out a long shaky exhale, "I missed you a lot, you know? And it felt like a part of me - something, I don't even know what - was gone. I- I feel so stupid saying this, oh my god."

"What?"

"I love you? Maybe. I mean, I'm just saying-"

Brendon instantly tenses, stares. He obviously wasn't expecting anything of the sort, not from Gabe and not now. He's not ready. "What?<\/i>"

"Sorry, I shouldn't be saying anything, huh? It's sort of early on in this and I know I've only got six days down. Wait, it's been six, right? Fuck, I need to buy a calendar." Gabe's babbling and that leaves him sort of breathless since it already feels like he doesn't have enough air in his lungs almost all the time. He pulls his legs up on the couch (just like he had a few weeks back when Brendon first told him to get clean, but today he's not hungover. He's hurting, but not hungover) and bites down on his lower lip. He's trying and Brendon thinks that adorable, or he would if he could think straight, if he wasn't so stuck<\/i>.

"I...love you, too?" Brendon sounds hesitant, wary, when he finally speaks this but he can't really be blamed for that.<\/font><\/p>

Gabe meets his eyes again, nods, "Okay." He breathes. "Okay." He doesn't move any closer or grab for Brendon's hand or anything because he knows Brendon is still so on edge, still distant. "I want you to be mine, Bren. Even if- you know, even if you aren't going to stay with me anymore. I want us. I want." and then Gabe's out of words, doesn't know what or why he's saying this anymore and feels so totally out of his forte that he just stares, hopes Brendon understands.

"I am." <\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

By the end of the evening, Brendon feels better. He suggested a few good rehab facilities but Gabe refused, said he wanted to do this on his own, that he hated hospitals and would like to pull through this within the comforts of his own bed. (Brendon can't blame him. After the many nights he's spent there, whether it's alcohol induced accidents or just illness or whatever the fuck - well, Brendon's pretty sure he'd hate hospitals too after all of that.) Brendon's hopeful for this change though, so he doesn't push it. Gabe seems genuine. He even kisses Gabe goodbye at the door, bids farewell with words of comfort, encouragement, and promises to stop by next friday. (And the friday after, and the one after that. He's not ready to come back, not until this cycle is broken, but he very well will be around now) Gabe, his boyfriend. His<\/i>.<\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

The next three weeks go by very similarly. They talk a lot, just like that first day. Today, Gabe's been doing most of the talking, which is a totally welcome change since he's been almost impossibly quiet the passed two visits (and whenever they talk on the phone. He says it's because he misses Brendon's voice), and Brendon listens to whatever drabble he's on about. (Usually it's about some "Fucking amazing<\/i>" movie, or how much Gabe hates the radio stations around here, or how much he wants to get a puppy again. They even brainstormed ideas together.) Other than that, Brendon tries to force him to eat something, they snuggle on the couch, and then eventually Brendon leaves.

He's brought soup with him today since Gabe's stomach is still all achy and he seemingly can't stomach much else. (Brendon's tried all sorts of things, things Gabe usually enjoys. Gabe tries to politely avoid actually eating it.) It seems to work out well because Gabe isn't even clutching at his stomach, hasn't had to run for the bathroom. Brendon knows he's hiding a lot though, trying to look stronger and less hurt than he really is, so who knows? Gabe is so fucking stubborn, that's one thing that will never change. They finish up and Brendon clears the table, starts in on washing the dishes (Gabe never was very good when it came to keeping up with them) when Gabe comes up behind him to grip him around the waist, kisses at his neck. He murmurs close to Brendon's ear, "Thank you."

Brendon smiles crookedly, glances over at him and quirks an eyebrow, "No problem." <\/font><\/p>

Gabe slaps at Brendon's hands, pulls them away from the sink, "Come on, no more cleaning. It's me time<\/i>." he jokes charmingly, pulling Brendon closer by the hips and kissing him soft and slow. Brendon lets him. He doesn't grab for Gabe's hand or reach up to cup his face, he just sort of cooperates, confused maybe. Gabe doesn't notice though. He pushes Brendon back against the kitchen wall and deepens the kiss and Brendon can't help but grip onto Gabe's shirt, his arm, his hair, just anywhere and everywhere. "What's this for?" he manages to get out when Gabe stops for breath.<\/font><\/p>

When finally Gabe stops and pulls back he mumbles against Brendon's lips, "I've missed you so fucking much, babe." And Brendon agrees with a nod, stares into Gabe's eyes. He can feel Gabe's breath on his face, hot, in quick intakes and sharp exhales, and Brendon will never grow sick of the fact that he no longer wreaks of alcohol or vomit when they're this close.<\/font><\/p>

He sees the change, the flash in his eyes, the way his eyes are sort of half lidded before he leans in and bites at Brendon's neck. Maybe he might he bites just a little too hard, gets a little too rough, because Brendon lets out a small squeek, says, "Gabe." a little breathlessly. Gabe doesn't catch on, he's undoing Brendon's shirt button by button, kissing down his chest as he goes. "Gabe." Brendon tries again, a little louder. <\/font><\/p>

Gabe hums, returns to Brendon's mouth. He kisses him once, twice, three times, "Yes?" he inquires, quirking his eyebrow again.<\/font><\/p>

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Brendon doesn't get the chance to answer, Gabe reconnects their lips, kisses him hard and grinds their hips together. Brendon squirms, tries to mumble his response but it doesn't come out properly at all. Gabe's undoing his pants.

Then, he does the only thing he sees fit. He pushes Gabe away, "We can't do that now, Gabe. And- and even if we were, not here<\/i>." Sure, Brendon's fucked in the kitchen, but only when Gabe was so fucking high and Brendon was weak and- see, Brendon's strong now. Brendon doesn't need to do everything Gabe asks and he's not going to lose that control. Gabe's been sober for a few weeks sure, but he hit him before, and he could relapse anyday. Things are going to work out better if Brendon just takes it all slowly - and that means not fucking against the kitchen wall. Not giving in.<\/font><\/p>

"What do you mean? Come on, Brendon." Gabe grabs hold of his hips again, steps close, "You know I need you." he growls this as he snakes his hand down Brendon's front, beneath his waistband. "And I know you need me too." he purrs.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon shakes his head, bites back a moan, "Gabe I-" Gabe's tugging at the waist of his pants now, pulling them down. Brendon inhales sharply, shouts, "No<\/i>." and shoves at Gabe's chest, but he hardly budges, hardly blinks.

"Why are you being like this?" Gabe asks in a low growl, "Really, Bren." He grabs hold of Brendon's wrist, pulls them up above his head and pins them there, gripping too tight. Brendon idly wonders if it could really leave a bruise. Jon would never forgive himself for leaving him alone again this week.<\/font><\/p>

When Gabe starts biting at his neck again, distracting him as he holds Brendon's hands above his head with just one of his own now so he can try to get Brendon's pants out of the way again, Brendon realizes that this is seriously going way too far. Gabe's going way too far. "Fucking stop<\/i>." he yells, ripping his hands free and pushing Gabe away, stepping toward the door. "Did you not <\/i>hear me?"<\/font><\/p>

Gabe gawps, shakes his head, "What the fuck, Brendon. I figured you-"

"You figured I wanted you to fuck me, figured I wanted the first time like- since we've been for real I guess, to be up against the kitchen wall hardly days into this. I don't even know that you're serious, don't even know if-" He cuts off, narrows his eyes, " Maybe you fucking assume too much, Gabe. If we're going to fix this, and- and have a real relationship then maybe I want to wait. I want this to fucking work, maybe I." Brendon waves his hands, gives up. He starts rebuttoning his shirt and pants, steps backward toward the door. "I'll come around next Friday."

Gabe grunts a response and Brendon rolls his eyes, buttons the last button. "Don't fuck this up." he warns on his way out the door. No I love you's or "Call you later" - nothing. <\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

Brendon shows up at Jon's doorstep in a huff and he's so glad that Ryan and Spencer aren't around, that he has time alone with Jon to sit and talk about what's going on. He can tell he woke Jon up from a nap so instead of sitting down on the couch he just makes himself at home, wanders into Jon's bedroom, kicks off his shoes, and lays back against the headboard. Jon crawls in beside him, lays on his side fully covered with his teal duvet and tries to look attentive. He passes it off pretty well, Brendon thinks. <\/span><\/p>

Brendon goes on about what happened, how awesome the afternoon was until Gabe had to pull that shit. He subconciously rubs at his wrist and Jon takes note, grabs hold of his hands and lightly runs his fingers over Brendon's inner wrists. He's totally awake now, sitting beside Brendon and frowning like a disappointed parent.

"You should've let me come with you, Brendon. Are you okay?"

"I'm- it's fine. It's not like I haven't-"

"He's done this before?" Jon gasps, tenses and squeezes Brendon's hand just a little. It doesn't hurt. "He's rape- ra-" Jon's stumbling and staring at Brendon in disbelief, in anger.

Brendon shakes his head, "No. I was saying it's not like we haven't done it before, you know? I just- I guess it was stupid. I could've. I should've. Hell, I wanted to." Brendon is basically just mumbling to himself by the time he comes to this conclusion, outlining the crazy patterns in Jon's quilt with his finger as he has a thousand times before. Jon shakes his head, grips Brendon's chin lightly in one hand to lift his gaze, look him in the eyes.

"No. Listen, you didn't want to. It doesn't matter what you have and have not done with Gabe, what you will and will not do. You, you fucking matter, Brendon." The way Jon says things like this, always surprises Brendon - takes him off gaurd a little. He may be the jokester, the one who keeps everyone's spirits up when they're tour, but he's so serious right now that Brendon can't even bring himself to nod. He just stares at soft brown eyes and a slight pout, a scruffy beard that could truly use a few touch ups. Worry lines. He hopes silently that he hasn't caused those. (He considers getting Jon some face cream or something since he has about three at his house or something. He's very beauty conscious sometimes.)

"I know." Brendon swallows hard, licks his lips, brings a hand up to brush his fingers over Jon's. He's still cupping Brendon's chin and seemly doesn't plan on moving away anytime soon. <\/font><\/p>

Then when he does, he brings that hand up and fingers through Brendon's hair, smirks, "Good," he pauses, "Your happiness comes first, Brendon. Do what you want to do and don't take any shit." He thumbs at Brendon's cheek, around his right eye that's not at all bruised anymore, "It's your life, man."<\/font><\/p>

Brendon doesn't even think about how close they are, how Jon is leaned in and is speaking in this totally secretive hushed tone. How he finds himself linking their fingers, or how he can smell Jon's soap or fabric softener or something and it smells pretty inviting. Not until he's leaned in further, closing that small gap, hesitantly pressing his lips to Jon's before jumping back completely as if he'd just been shocked.<\/font> He pulls his hand away, stumbles over his words, "Sorry, I- that was." He gives up on talking anymore, explaining. He thinks maybe he should get out of the bed now, he's had his talk and he's clearly not in the proper state of mind to think or talk or-

Jon laughs. What the fuck, he seriously laughs<\/i>. "What is so goddamn funny?"  Brendon demands with a slight pout. He doesn't think this is funny at all, this is - this is senseless, yeah. A little daft, perhaps "fucking crazy" could describe the situation nicely. This is...well, honestly, sort of what Brendon wants right now. Sort of exciting. Sort of comforting. Sort of an escape.

He leans back in and kisses Jon again, and Jon's ready this time. He let's Brendon take control, let's Brendon lower him back onto the bed, tangle their limbs a little. He nibbles at Brendon's lip as he pulls away and Brendon breathes out a laugh, runs his fingers down the side of Jon's face. The stubble feels strange, he decides, it sort of tickles his face, scratches, but maybe it's not bad. (Maybe he's thought about what it'd feel like before, to kiss someone with a beard. Gabe keeps himself fairly clean shaven most of the time.) But then, everything about Jon is different and new and sort of nice.

Even once the clothes are gone and Brendon's on his back, Jon sat between his legs murmuring about how much he's actually wanted to do this, asking if Brendon is ready, Jon is still so gentle. He doesn't grip Brendon's hip nearly as hard, doesn't bite his neck or his chest or anything. He doesn't move without permission and doesn't get too rough, not in anyway at all. He treats Brendon like a treasure, something delicate and precious to him. Brendon isn't entirely used to the feeling. He kind of loves it.<\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

Brendon doesn't call Gabe at all that week, and Gabe doesn't bother much either. He figures Gabe's still angry with him, so that's reasonable, it doesn't hurt. What doesn't make sense is the fact that he hardly feels guilty, hardly. He does though, a little bit. He cares for Jon, he likes everything that Jon entails. Everything is so soft, so calm, protective and wonderful. It's such a change from what he's used to now with Gabe, always so extreme, always too something<\/i>, never stable. He loves Gabe though, he really fucking does. He wouldn't have stuck around this long if he didn't, you know? And- and Gabe loves him too. They're together now. When he remembers that, that's when it starts to sting. That's when it hurts.

Brendon thinks maybe this was his turn to fuck up. It's his turn to face the music. Of course, as awkward as it feels since he and Jon slept together almost exactly a week before, Jon insists he tag along. <\/font><\/p>

After it'd happened, Brendon didn't cry, Brendon didn't talk at all infact, but Jon knew what he was thinking. It's Jon, it's practically his job to know what's going on, how to make things better. (Usually that involves herbal remedies though. Some pot and a cuddle session with Jon and no one could possibly complain.) He told Brendon he knew it didn't mean anything, told him not to worry because Gabe will never know, and that it won't happen again. Brendon nodded, snuggled against Jon and slept wrapped in his arms that night. The next day when they were both fully dressed and out of bed, they acted as if it'd never happened. Brendon spoke his mind about what went on with Gabe some more over coffee and Jon made him promise to bring him along next visit.<\/font><\/p>

That's why right now they're climbing into the car, heading for Gabe's house. Brendon ran in to get Jon because he wasn't quite ready yet and Brendon didn't feel like waiting in the car any longer than twenty minutes. Jon notices Brendon's phone on the dashboard before Brendon does.

"You left your phone out here? It's a fuckin' miracle, man."<\/font><\/p>

Brendon snorts, "Hey, I'm not as bad as Ryan." He snatches it up, flips it open and furrows his eyebrows. <\/font><\/p>

1 Missed Call

1 New Voicemail<\/i><\/font><\/p>

He doesn't bother checking, just dials and holds the phone to his ear as they start down the road. Jon mumbles something about getting into an accident and Brendon tells him to shut the fuck up. (As nicely as possible, of course)<\/font><\/p>

"Hey Bren." It's Gabe. He's practically whispering but his voice is still shaking, quivering. He hears him sniffle, take a deep breath, "I'm sorry for everything. I'm- fuck<\/i>." he hisses. Brendon pictures him shooting up, pictures him possibly just hurt and laid out on the floor. "So sorry. So- I love you, Brendon. Okay? Remember that? I fucking love you and you- you're wonderful, alright? I'm sorry for making everything so tough for- for fucking this, you, your life - I don't know, everything, up like this. I want to be here for you, want to be what- whatever you want me to be." his voice is raspy and it's getting hard for him to talk now, Brendon can tell. He needs water or juice or something, he's probably just dehydrated. Brendon should be there to tell him this, to get it for him. "I'm sorry I can't be. Remember though, okay? I love you." When he snaps his phone shut and glances sideways at Jon, he's got tears in his eyes. He wipes them away quickly, they're only a few blocks from Gabe's apartment and he really doesn't want to get into an accident here. Gabe only called about an hour ago and Brendon can apologize, make it better as soon as he gets there. Apologize for not calling or stopping by, for leaving on such a bitter note. It looks like they'll be starting over again, getting Gabe clean, but he's willing to do this, right? He'll do it.<\/font><\/p>

"You okay, B?" Jon asks, cocking his head.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon doesn't answer Jon, not once. Jon keeps asking what's wrong, why Brendon's shaking, what he can do, if Gabe is being a fucking prick again or something. Brendon can't answer. He practically runs <\/i>to the front door after he throws the car into park. He knocks. Four count in, five counts out.<\/i><\/font><\/p>

Jon catches up to him, stands beside him at the door, "Seriously, what the fuck is going on, Brendon?"

"I don't- fuck, I don't know<\/i>." he practically shouts and Jon looks a little taken aback. Brendon doesn't mean to come out so harsh  but he's freaking out because- what the fuck? Why would Gabe leave a message like that? He must be back on the stuff and it's totally all Brendon's fault this time. He should've been there. Should've- and now he's not answering the door. Did he forget his keys too?

"Shit.<\/i>"

"What?"

"Can you run back to the car and get my-" Jon holds Brendon's key ring out to him, offers a soft smile. Brendon just mumbles a thank you as he struggles to unlock the door. (It's harder than it should be, his hands are shaking and his heart is pounding and he's so fucking scared. So anxious. So worried.) He manages eventually and steps inside a little hesitantly, "Gabe?" he calls. "I'm here."

He listens, doesn't hear him shuffling around at all. "Come on, don't be like this." He pauses a moment, bites his lip. He sounds just like Gabe now, doesn't he? "I"m sorry." <\/font><\/p>

Brendon is peaking around in the kitchen, the living room, when he hears Jon. He's talking in a quiet, mumbled tone. "Jon? Did you find hi-" He stops.

Jon steps forward, blocking the doorway to the bathroom, and shakes his head, "Brendon go in the living room, okay? Sit down."

A flash of pale skin as Jon closes the door. Wide eyes. Off-color, dry, cracked lips. Something Brendon never would have thought - never wanted to see. Gabe. The exact thing he tried to keep him from, what haunted his sleep all these nights, what made him stick around and help, made him leave. "No, he. Jon, he's not dead. He's not fucking dead, right? He's not." Brendon states this almost confidently, even with the sick feeling in his stomach, the knot in his throat and the tight feeling in his chest. His heart is pounding and the tears he'd desperately tried to hold in in the car are hitting tenfold. "He's okay. He's- he was sick. I wasn't here, Jon. I couldn't."

Jon bites his lip, steps forward and wraps his arms around Brendon's waist, let's Brendon rest his head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Bren. It's- it was going to happen someday, you know? He..." Jon trails off, apologizes again quietly "The ambulance is coming. Why don't we go outside, alright? You don't want to be here when-"

Brendon cuts him off, steps back, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "I want to be here. I should've been here. I- fuck<\/i>."

Jon shakes his head sadly, grabs Brendon's hand and leads him back to the living room where they wait.

-<\/font><\/p>Long after the ambulance has come and gone, Brendon lays collapsed against Jon's chest. It's almost three o'clock in the morning and Jon is asleep<\/font>. He can't sleep, not tonight. He refused to leave the apartment but without Gabe here, it's not the same. With Jon, it's still always going to be different. (See, he'll keep living, he'll move forward, things don't just stop for you after all - even if you might want them to - but it'll always be different.) Brendon wonders if Gabe knew how much Brendon really did care for him, how much he loved him. How sorry he was for fucking up at the end, for letting go, for giving up and giving in. He makes wishes, says prayers (and really, seriously, when did he become so spiritually needy?), fucking cries<\/i>. He ends up relocating to the couch, curls up with a blanket (He used it last. <\/i>Brendon can't help but think) and writes a letter he'll never send, a letter he can't send. An apology to no one. The first love note he'll ever write Gabe, and the last. The funeral is on a Friday, Brendon thinks it's sort of ironic. He'll put Gabe to rest for the final time, no more waking up because of Gabe's hangovers or any of that. It's over, and he feels unprepared. And if there's any kind of fairness in this world, a benevolent God like the one he was taught to obey in his younger years, then he'll push through. Gabe will understand. Gabe will receive his words and maybe even forgive him. They'll meet again someday. Maybe.

Four counts in, fives counts out. Four counts in, five counts...<\/i><\/font><\/a>
","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/22030.html?view=comments#comments","category":["angsty whore","gabe\/brendon","panic at the disco","jon\/brendon","fic","cobra starship"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/21783.html","pubDate":"Mon, 13 Apr 2009 06:25:20 GMT","title":"Frayed Ends","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/21783.html","description":"

So here's what I've been working on for quite some time. Any errors\/typos\/whatever are because I definitely have not read through this monster yet :[ Also, it all began <\/span>because of<\/span> (see: can be blamed on) this here song<\/a>, which you can listen to here, I spose<\/a>.

Edit: Oh and hey, I'm only 2 and a half-ish hours over goal-time? :] Sweeet. That may be a good thing, anyway. Let bandom enjoy Brendon's birthday without this monstrocity to disturb that. Now. Angst time!

Disclaimer: This made me cry a little (just the planning, perhaps not the fic itself?). It's Gabe\/Brendon (me and this pairing, man) and I guess a teeny bit Jon\/Brendon too. Also, all that other nonsense you usually put here.
<\/span><\/p>

It's four o'clock in the morning and Brendon is awake. As he gets out of bed and stumbles his way toward the bathroom - he doesn't turn on the bedside lamp because he knows<\/i><\/font> Gabe hasn't gotten much sleep lately - he tries to remember the last time he'd slept through the night. The last time he woke up in the morning and felt satisfied. <\/i><\/font>Maybe he's just homesick, misses his bed, his room, his friends, his fucking life<\/i><\/font>. If he's really going to be honest - and he does that sometimes - he's really just sick of trying to ignore the retching noises in the morning, the sobbing in the afternoon, the sharp inhale of breath when Gabe thinks he's asleep. Track marks and stains on the carpet. Cans, bottles, syringes, everywhere<\/i><\/font>. Brendon is sick and tired. So tired. He can't remember a time when sex with Gabe didn't mean waking up to him snorting another line, which of course leads to rough sex on the floor of his living room or against the wall in his kitchen which always leaves Brendon sore and carpet burned. Stamina fucking galore. Gabe seems to think that's a reasonable excuse to keep on. Brendon seems to think Gabe is a fucking moron.

Brendon doesn't crawl back into bed today because he's a little anxious, a little annoyed, a little fucking scared. <\/i><\/font>Instead, he shuffles around in search of something to wear that doesn't smell like throw-up, weed, or alcohol. He ends up wearing some shirt Gabe never really wears anymore - his white "Lie. Cheat. Steal." shirt, Brendon thinks it's just a little ironic. He does however, manage to find his own jeans and thank god<\/i><\/font>, because last time he wore Gabe's they were totally way too tight and long and he felt weird having to cuff the bottom of his pant legs.

He doesn't leave a note today either, thinks better of wasting his time, energy, and paper. He'll be back well before Gabe wakes since this is probably the first time in nearly a week that he's come down from his high. Brendon wouldn't  be surprised if he spends the rest of the day watching reruns of old 70's sitcoms with Gabe still snoring in the other room. He doesn't mind it so much anymore, he counts his blessings. It's always easier to get the cleaning done without Gabe pleading for forgiveness - kissing his neck and squeezing his hips, always using cliche words and phrases that Brendon doesn't even try to believe anymore - or for a glass of water, sex, an aspirin, someone to console him, help <\/i><\/font>him, make the room stop going all topsy turvy. Brendon can't always make everything better, but he likes to try, or he used to.

Brendon likes to walk down to this locally owned and run coffee spot a few blocks away whenever he's given the chance, but since it's not even open yet - nothing is open at fucking four in the morning<\/i><\/font> - he wanders around town for an hour or two, stops at the park to sit on the bench and listen to the birds chirp. He thinks maybe next time he should bring a book along, something to keep him busy and let his mind finally take a rest and focus on something not so goddamn real<\/i><\/font>. He wastes some time texting, sends Jon a message to tell him that if he gets up within the next hour he should get his ass down to the cafe and talk to Brendon because maybe he's a little bit lonely this morning.

When he walks in the door Jon's already there, though probably just barely since he's still adorning these ridiculously patterned blue pajama pants and an old paint-stained tee shirt. "Mornin'?" Jon greets, his tone more confused than anything, just a little raspy since he'd clearly just woke up.

Brendon hasn't seen Jon in nearly a month, can you believe that? A whole fucking month<\/i><\/font> (and even then it was just a few minutes in passing). He's grinning sort of foolishly, taking a seat beside Jon on the sofa against the wall without even bothering to order his coffee. "Thanks for showing. I know it's kind of really early and you're not usually up until at least <\/i><\/font>like-"

Jon cuts him off, waving his hand about vaguely, "It's fine, Bren."

The silence that follows feels way too thick - heavy somehow - and more awkward than it should. Has it been that long? Jon speaks again just as Brendon starts to panic, maybe sensing that his heart is pounding and there's this lump in his throat that's telling him you're losing them. You're losing everyone for this. <\/i><\/font>"Is something wrong?"

Brendon shakes his head, smiles again, "Other than the fact that I do not <\/i><\/font>have a warm mocha cappuccino in my hand yet?" He breathes out a laugh and gets to his feet again, taking his time and looking at the menu as if he doesn't already know it by heart before actually ordering and sitting back down beside Jon. Jon just smiles warmly and it's comforting and it sort of hurts knowing he's missed out on that for so many weeks. "I'm officially ready to start the day." Brendon jokes, taking the cap off his cardboard cup and setting it on the table in front of them to cool. Jon snorts, mumbles something about never being ready to start the day. Brendon couldn't agree more, but he's not going to say anything.

"So how've you been?" Brendon decides, eventually, that relaxed conversation wasn't going so well. He takes the formal route, as if he hasn't been best friends with Jon for about four or five years now.

Jon nods, "S'alright. Stopped by Ryan's the other day to go for another woodland adventure, no fire this time. Uh...talked to Spence yesterday - well, like everyday. He's doing alright."

Brendon actually laughs, and it's all kinds of liberating or something like that. "Jon, I asked you how you've <\/i><\/font>been."

He shrugs this time. 'You know, same ol'." and okay, maybe Brendon is getting paranoia completely out of no where, but it looks like he wants to say more, is trying to tell Brendon something with that gaze of his. Brendon really can't read him like he used to though since, hell, he can't even hold a normal conversation properly anymore. He just nods and checks to see if maybe his cappuccino is drinkable yet. (Which it's not. Brendon never fails to burn his tongue on his morning espresso - or whatever it is he craves that day - never<\/i><\/font>.)

It feels like it's had to of been a good twenty minutes where they're just quietly watching people filter in and out of the place, sipping their drinks and hoping the other will speak up first, when Jon actually does<\/em>. "So what about you. How have you <\/i><\/font>been?" a beat, "We've all been worried, you know. You never <\/i><\/font>call anymore."

"Yeah, I- I'm sorry." For not being around. For not calling. For ignoring your messages. For exiling myself like this.<\/i><\/font> "I've been fine, I've been- it's been a rough time."

Jon furrows his eyebrows, scoots a little closer to Brendon and asks in a soft voice, "What's going on?"

"It's not. Nothing. I've been busy, you know? I might be moving into Gabe's place so I'm working on-"

"Brendon, please." Jon says, raising his eyebrows to emphasize that he knows Brendon is totally fucking bullshitting him.

Brendon isn't giving though. He doesn't want to tell Jon why he hasn't been around - hasn't been home<\/i><\/font> - because that's not how he wants this conversation to go, and he doesn't want Jon to be worried, you know? "I think I'm selling the house soon." he pauses, thinks. "How are Dylan and Clover? Oh, and Marley. Did you get him to stop pissing on the carpet yet?"

<\/font> Jon looks reluctant and Brendon knows it's a really fuckin' shitty excuse for a cover up, but Jon let's him slide this time. He goes on and on about how hard it is to house train his puppy and how lately Clover has been sleeping nearly on top of his head and how he swears<\/i><\/font> Dylan is trying to trip him down the stairs and Brendon laughs, more than he has in so fucking long. After almost two hours of tales about Jon's adventures with Ryan or what ugly shoes Spencer bought recently - catching up on what Brendon likes to consider as his <\/i><\/font>life, or a part of it - when Brendon realizes how long he's been gone, he sort of freaks out. "Shit<\/i><\/font>. Uh, oh God. I gotta head out, it's fucking- Goddamnit." He imagines Gabe waking up with the shakes, crying out for Brendon and him - well, him not being there to make it stop.

"What's your rush?" Jon asks , cocking his head and offering Brendon a small smile, "why don't we-"

"No, I really do need to head out. Appointment today, you know? With a." he pauses, just barely, "realtor."

Jon frowns, stands when Brendon does and pulls him into a tight embrace, "Soon?"

"Soon." Brendon nods, and he's throwing out his empty cup and hurrying out the door before Jon can utter another word.

-

He doesn't even need to go into the bedroom to check and make sure Gabe's still breathing (it's sort of habit, he worries a lot) when he gets in. He can already hear him gagging and choking in the bathroom. He doesn't even know what's in his system today, doesn't know how he's supposed to help, but he finds himself kneeling down beside him at the toilet, rubbing his back like he usually would. "Are you alright?"

"Does it look like I'm fucking alright?" Gabe snaps. Brendon doesn't even flinch.

"Want anything?"

"Water. Please."

Brendon nods solemnly. Leaves to find a glass and returns with ice cold water a moment later, just as Gabe moans, "It fucking burns<\/i><\/font>. It burns so fucking much."

"Drink it."

Gabe nods, sits back a little to grab the glass and drinks down at least half of it by the time he hands it back.

"Did you eat at all last night?" Brendon demands as he sinks back down beside Gabe. He really doesn't answer though, just glances up at him and furrows his eyebrows in this stupid little pained expression Brendon used to find sort of adorable. "You need to fucking eat. That's what you need to do."

"Not hungry." Gabe mumbles, laying his forehead against the cold surface of the toilet seat.

"I don't mean now, dumbass. I mean all the time." he sets the glass on the counter and starts rubbing circles on Gabe's lower back again, "If you had some kind of food in your system it might not hurt so much."

"I ate last night."

"What?"

Gabe stops, closes his eyes for a few minutes and Brendon knows he very well doesn't have any kind of fucking answer. Gabe can't even remember <\/i><\/font>last night. He's right too because then he just looks over at Brendon and narrows his eyes, "Yeah, fine."

"You really need to stop-"

"You can go now. I'll be fine." And okay, Gabe's being nice today, he's not nearly as grouchy as he normally would be. Brendon hopes to catch him later when he's not so hungover, tell him that maybe this time he should really fucking try. He wants to catch him when he's at least a little level-headed.

He watches some stupid reality shows until Gabe drags himself out of the bathroom, automatically lifting his arms and making grabby hands in Brendon's direction, pouting sort of adorably. Brendon nods, turns back to the television and waves Gabe over. It's all so routine, that he doesn't think twice, he doesn't even consider running over and holding him telling him that it's okay and it'll stop. This is monotony.

Gabe settles in beside him, lays with his head in Brendon's lap. Brendon can still feel him shaking, which means he obviously had more than just a little alcohol last night. He doesn't want to start in right away so he just looks down at Gabe and plays with his hair, frowning softly. "Better?"

"Hardly."

"Sorry."

Gabe doesn't say anything this time, he bites his lip and tries to stop the shakes, turning on his side and curling in on himself. "I feel like shit." he mumbles when Brendon starts running a hand up and down his back again.

"You look like shit."

Gabe scoffs, "Thanks.<\/i><\/font>"

"You're welcome." Brendon says flatly, tearing his eyes away from the man in his lap and flipping through the channels. He gives up after a minute, turns off the television and nudges Gabe. Gabe understands, and obligingly turns to look up at Brendon. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself, Gabe? You know what's going to happen. You know it's going to hurt."

Gabe shakes his head, "Bren." he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, stills a little. Brendon can't help but brush his fingers along his cheek, his jaw line. Gabe opens his eyes again, says, "I can't- you don't understand. I used to have it all, Brendon. I didn't used to need this like I do. I didn't-"

"You know you're just making it worse. Hurting yourself like this? Hurting me <\/i><\/font>like this?" Brendon raises his voice a little and Gabe winces, hisses through his teeth. Brendon softens his tone again,  "It's not going to change things and you know it. It's not going to get you your singing voice back. It's not going to bring the band back together. It's not going to make it any better for-"

"I know<\/i><\/font>." Gabe practically shouts, then closes his eyes again and frowns, forehead creased. "I fucking know, Brendon. But I-"

"But what? You need this? You're fucking killing yourself, I can't sit by and just- and." He stops, bites his lip. It's crossed his mind before but he's never said anything, and maybe, just maybe<\/i><\/font>, it's time he does. "If you can't quit this, can't stop wasting your life and- and fuck<\/i><\/font>, mine? Then I don't want to be here anymore. I can't. I fucking won't<\/i><\/font>."

Gabe's eyes go wide, he stares up at Brendon and shakes his head, "You're going to fucking leave me? Ditch me like- like some fucking-"

"I'm giving you options." Brendon states. He nudges Gabe a little and gets to his feet. Gabe starts shaking again.

"Don't be like this." he's forcing himself up into a sitting position now, hugging his legs to his chest with his chin resting on his knees.

"I have to be, Gabe. It's not just you in this and I've told you. I don't even - I've told you so many times. I can't watch you fucking fall apart like this anymore."

Gabe isn't looking at him when he speaks anymore, he's staring at the floor, "It doesn't even fucking matter though. It- I'm nobody now, you know? I don't even have-"

"You have me<\/i><\/font>." Brendon says a little too quickly, a little too angrily. He's pacing a little now, and when he stops he just shifts from foot to foot, thinking. Really though, he took Gabe in, he's helped him through withdrawal and relapse time and time again, babied him when he was hung over and couldn't do a goddamn thing for himself. He can't understand how Gabe could even say <\/i><\/font>that that doesn't mean anything, like that isn't enough for him. But then, wasn't it always just sex with Gabe? Not once has Gabe said 'I love you' or gone out of his way to do something romantic. They never officially began dating or any of that. They met, they slept together, and then they just sort of grew attached. Sex on a regular basis, that's what it is for Gabe, and someone who's still around and cares. Not once has Brendon told him that maybe he just might want something more, and right now...well, maybe he doesn't. "If that's not enough for you then. Well, then I think I really should get the fuck out while I can."

"No. No, no no." Gabe rocks a little, chews at his lip and furrows his eyebrows, "I can't - I can't quit this without you, Bren. I'll do it. I will. Don't leave, not now."

"Are you really?" Brendon stops fidgeting, stops pacing and moving about. He takes a seat beside Gabe again, "Are you serious about this Gabe? Right now? If I go in that room and find anything <\/i><\/font>I can fucking chuck it and we'll be done?"

Gabe hesitates, Brendon can see it, the way his eyes shift and he sort of tenses for a minute. But then he looks up at Brendon, shoulders slumping, and nods. Brendon smiles a little, definitely still a little disbelieving but it's a start, right? "Alright." he breathes, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Gabe, pulling him into his chest. "I know you can do this, Gabe, and I want to see it happen. I want us to have -" he pauses, corrects himself, "I want you to have a fuckin' long happy life, you know?"

Gabe just nods, sniffling and burying his face in Brendon's shirt.

-

Things are alright for a couple of days. Brendon took Gabe up on what he said and searched the bedroom, turned it completely upside down, and when he was through there he moved on to any other place he thinks Gabe might hide shit. He's pretty sure he covered it all, and he very well better have since it took him about three hours to put the house back together. Gabe doesn't help much, just hovers and points out a few of the spots Brendon missed - that makes him all the more innocent though, right? If something was missed? He tried to help and he'd forgotten where it was before. Brendon knows that trick, he's not going to rely on Gabe to point everything out. - then just goes back to the couch wrapped in the comforter, shaking and practicing that deep breathing excercise Brendon taught him about two weeks back. (Four counts in, five counts out.<\/i>) Brendon doesn't mind because he's still pretty fuckin' enthused that he's even able to do this. Plus, he's used to cleaning up the place with Gabe passed out on the floor. It's even easier when he's not.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon pampers him that night and when things start getting rough, he does what he's always been there to do. He holds him until the shakes stop, and when Gabe starts talking about the bugs in his skin, the aching<\/i> all over, he just pushes him down on the bed again, placing kisses down his chest and mumbling, "We'll make that go away." because they're in this together. It's going to work this time. Brendon is going to do everything he can and Gabe is going to kick this. If it kill him.<\/font><\/p>

Gabe isn't much better by the fourth day, of course. Infact, he's much worse off. He hasn't left the bed and really he's hardly talking at all anymore, just shivering, clutching at his stomach and laying as close to Brendon as possible whenever possible. Brendon knows Gabe wants to say something, wants to ask for just one drink or one line. Then he'll be done for good. He always does though, and Gabe's really biting his tongue this time. He's really actually trying, and Brendon is so proud. That, that is part of the reason Brendon just couldn't say no when Gabe's face lights up - even through the pain - and he waves his sidekick wildly in the air.

"Brendon! Julian is in town. Right now, like. For a few days maybe. He wants to know if I can-"

Brendon smiles crookedly, making his way over to the bed (he just got done washing the dishes and was bringing in some water for Gabe again, even if he hadn't asked for it), "Are you- are you asking my permission, Gabe Saporta?" He pauses, "I could get used to this."

Gabe rolls his eyes and it looks so totally forced that it's sort of actually funny, he says, "Don't get too used to it, darling." Then he just hides behind the little screen, reads what it says there. He raises an eyebrow expectantly at Brendon as he snaps it closed, "So is it okay?"

Brendon hesitates because, alright, the only time he ever met Julian was at one of his crazy fucking parties and if that's what they're going to be doing, well..."What are you guys planning on doing?"

"I don't know, I'll show him around California? Like, I don't know that awesome restaurant we went to..." Gabe looks like he's concentrating, bites down on the tip of his finger and cocks his head, "I think- No, I don't know. A while ago."<\/font><\/p>

"I thought you weren't hungry though?"

"Well, I'm not. But I'm sure Julian probably is and he'd like it, right? Please, Bren. I haven't seen him or, like, anyone in-" Brendon doesn't really want to hear what he'd say after this. He wasn't ditched you know, he wasn't poor innocent Gabe, left all alone by his mean old friends. Gabe pushed them away, they reminded him of a time when he was really happy with life and he felt like he was flying high. He doesn't have that anymore and he doesn't need to be reminded of it everday. It was a stupid choice on his part, but most of what he did after Cobra was. <\/font><\/p>

"Alright, I suppose." Brendon says playfully and Gabe wastes no time, he sits up and kisses Brendon long and hard, hands gripping at his hair a little roughly. When he pulls away Brendon holds up a finger, "But if there's anything <\/i>there-"

"Get the fuck out and call you right away?" Gabe flashes some kind of cheesey grin, even whilst he rewraps his arms around his stomach, "I know. I gotcha." he pauses, "Thank you<\/i>. You're my hero, Brendon, like seriously." Brendon smiles. He thinks it's crazy that Gabe's almost acting normal now, like he's not all sorts of fucked up with withdrawal symptoms. It's like that text message has absolutely turned everything around. Brendon thinks it's some kind of blessing from heaven to see him smile again (and not because he's totally shitfaced). He must have done something right.<\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

Gabe doesn't come home for at least three fuckin' days. Brendon doesn't know when he came home exactly because at about one o'clock in the morning on that third night, Brendon went back to his own home. He hasn't sold the place yet, thankfully, because he really hasn't found the time. Plus, maybe he's a little reluctant. Gabe's apartment may be nice but what if Gabe actually wants something more one day. If you know, they were together that is, he'd totally already have the perfect place. A house of their own. Their <\/i>house, to share.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon has to shake off those thoughts though because Gabe, he's not answering his phone, he's not calling, and he's sure as hell not coming home. The last word he'd heard from him was just  before Julian came to pick him up. Brendon had asked if he was okay, if he was sure he wanted to do this because he was still this sort of pale tone and he knows Gabe is still feeling it, weak and hurt. He's so determined to be strong to go out and see one of the few people he hasn't pushed away entirely though, you know? And Brendon let him. Brendon gave him a hug, a kiss, and made him promise to come back sober and in one piece. To be careful. Told him he worries and he loves him. Okay, so not that last bit but he would have, you know? If he wasn't so sure that it wasn't right. Gabe wouldn't like it. He did say he cared though. Then he just let him fucking go. He should've known better. It's Gabe<\/i>.<\/font><\/p>

At the end of the week, late one night, Gabe calls him. Brendon picks up on the third ring.

"Hey."

"Hey," Brendon pauses, sets down the puzzle book he'd been doing, "where the fuck have you been?"

"I stayed with Julian at the hotel for a couple of days because he just like, wouldn't let me leave. You know, it's been like-"

Brendon cuts him off, "I was fucking off the walls, Gabe. Are you okay? Are you coming home?" He's listening carefully to the way Gabe talks, to see if it's got that sort of increased pace that coke or speed might give him, if it slurs at all. All he can pick up is that Gabe sounds sort of happy, and normal? He doesn't sound like he's buzzing or drunk or high or- "You didn't take anything right? We've still got a few days down for the count?"  Brendon tries to sound as passive as he can saying this, but really he's fucking ready to shout or cry or do something <\/i>depending on Gabe's answer.

Gabe pauses for longer than he really should, "What? No way, Bren."<\/font><\/p>

And that's about when Brendon decides that Gabe is fucking lying through his teeth. The way he tacks Brendon's name on, the way he sort of hesitates. Mostly though, he realizes that he's not withdrawling, he's not even slightly upset, craving just that little bit. He's done something <\/i>and Brendon will very well find out what. "That's uh, kind of funny, you know?"

Gabe hums, says, "No?"

"I mean that you're so chipper. Sure you don't want to go into therapy?"

"I think I might," Gabe says, his tone nothing but sincere, totally serious. "because-" a pause, "your not here. Seriously, babe, come on over. I need you." he finishes in a playful tone, adding in this little purr at the end that in any other situation would have been pretty damn sexy.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon rolls his eyes and he's really not sure why (not at all) but he says he will. Maybe it's because he's missed him and he really is worried and he just wants to see him again and make sure that he's- but he already knows. He knows <\/i>what he's going to see, he just wishes, hopes somewhere in him, that Gabe wasn't lying. That maybe, Brendon has just lost his touch lately. He fucking prays<\/i>.<\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

"Good evening Brendon." Gabe says in mock elegance with a devious little smirk when he opens the door. (There's color to his face, Brendon wonders to himself just how many days Gabe spent snorting, smoking, drinking, injecting.) He's already stripped his shirt, and he's leaning in the doorway all patronizingly, clad in skinny jeans and (more than likely, but possibly not) Calvin Klein boxer briefs. He wanders away from the door and let's Brendon take his time with it, locking up before he himself heads toward the bedroom.

"Why is it you're so very upbeat today?"

"Because I get to see you honeybunches, duh."

Brendon snorts, "Alright, all sarcasm aside. Seriously." he's in the room by now, stood with his hands on his hips and staring at Gabe who's sat on the bed with this innocent look on his face. Gabe shrugs and Brendon states flatly, "That isn't a very good answer."<\/font><\/p>

This time he doesn't give Brendon any vague gestures or mumbled words or anything he was expecting, he just leans forward and grabs Brendon by the belt loops, pulling him over to stand right between his legs. (Brendon can't help but think.<\/font> So soon? What happened to dragging it out? <\/font><\/i><\/font>- then, he figures maybe Gabe is out of excuses. Finally run out of lines.<\/font>) "Can this please wait, Bren? I kind of really fuckin' want you right now." He creeps the fingers of one hand under the thin cotton of Brendon's tee shirt and draws little circles on his waist there, "I haven't seen you in a whole week. That's a long time."<\/font><\/p>

"As if that's my fau-" Brendon stops short when Gabe places a hand on his crotch, rubbing and fondling and doing whatever it is he always does so well. (Teasing? Fucking mind-control? Whatever) He tries to step back, tell him that he's not going to do this right now because - because he's done something terribly wrong and Brendon needs to know. Brendon needs to fix this, it's his job to- but then he's undoing Brendon's pants, painfully slow, as he removes his hand from Brendon's shirt and uses it to grab at his collar, tug him down by the front and kiss him far needier than he really should.<\/font><\/p>

Gabe knows what he's doing, knows exactly how to make Brendon crazy. Crazy enough to totally fuckin' put everything on hold and have at it right then and there. The sad thing is, Brendon always seems to tune back in, realize that he's doing something wrong at the exact moment when Gabe says "Are you ready, baby? Do you want it?" or whatever crazy dirty talk Gabe spits out that night, growled into Brendon's ear. Does he ever stop and say 'No, we can't. You fucking know we shouldn't. We should be talking and fixing you. Me. This<\/i>.'? Of course not, by then he's breathing too heavily, shaking under Gabe's touch, his every move. Fucking shivering when he uses his lips, his tongue.<\/font> Brendon hates to admit it, but he's fucking desperate and can't just stop now, not when it's right there in front of him. (But hey, maybe we all have our addictions, right?) This is what it's always been about anyway, right? Sex and someone who cares. Gabe's winning again. His addiction is winning again. And Brendon, he feels fucking useless for letting it happen again.<\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

Gabe wakes up before Brendon the next morning, and he's not throwing up or shaking or asking Brendon for anything at all. Brendon would like to say it's a nice change, but it's not. Not really.

"Good morning, sunshine." Gabe calls from the bathroom where he's probably playing with the little hair he has or just looking at himself in the full sized mirror on the back of the door to see if he really wants to wear the black,white and grey flannel rather than the red or blue. (or maybe he's just doing some blow? Could be. If he's that fuckin' gutsy about it. Brendon hates that he's already so distrusting. Things were going so well.) Brendon just continues to pad his way into the kitchen to cook up some eggs or something. <\/font><\/p>

When Gabe finally makes his appearance (he'd chose the red after all, go figure) Brendon has finished and is setting out two plates on the table. "Mornin'." he murmurs, sitting down at his own place and digging in. He was playing it casual. Let it come to him. Maybe Gabe will make this a little bit fucking easy on him and just come clean.

Gabe hardly touches his plate, he's just sort of moving it around with his fork in front of him. Brendon thinks Adderal<\/i>. He thinks, Codeine, heroine, morphine, meth<\/i>. "Not eating?" he finally inquires, raising an eyebrow in Gabe's direction.

Gabe shrugs, "Not hungry." and before Brendon can say what he wants to, that Gabe isn't ill like he was before he left - he should very well have some kind of appetite - Gabe is getting to his feet. "Hey, I'm going to be back in a little bit, alright? I sort of saw this thing down town and - okay, I can't tell you. I want it to be a suprise."

Brendon blinks, shakes his head, "I could wait in the car? I mean it has been a week since we've been together like-"

Gabe immediately shakes his head though, "Exactly why you shouldn't. It has to be just right. It has to be perfect<\/i>." He pauses here to lean down and brush a light kiss to Brendon's forehead, says, "Just like you." and then he leaves. Leaving Brendon a little concerned, a little confused. <\/font><\/p>

His first thought though? That Gabe is finally showing affection and it's both one of the weirdest fucking things he's experienced thus far when it comes to Gabe(and that's saying something), and the best. That maybe, just maybe, he just really got well while he was with his friend Julian and Brendon was totally off. That they have a real shot at being together, like, for real. Again, he prays<\/i>. (When did religion reenter his life? When was he ever this spiritually needy?) He'll wait it out maybe a half hour, an hour tops, and then he'll call him. <\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

Brendon decides that he really needs to stop doing this. This<\/i> being listening, believing, letting Gabe lie to him time and time again. It's been about six hours since Gabe left, and this time he didn't even bother to bring along his cell phone. Brendon feels like a stupid motherfucker. <\/font><\/p>

He falls asleep (somehow) that night and wakes up to Gabe crawling into bed with him, wrapping an arm around his waist and kissing and nibbling at the base of his neck, "Hey Brenny."<\/font><\/p>

Brendon scowls, turns to face Gabe with eyes that are hardly ready to be open but are all the same narrowed <\/i>on him. They're so close together and all Brendon can think to say is, "You wreak." which comes out sort of mumbled since he's still half asleep.

"Shower?" Gabe suggests, purring and running his hand up Brendon's chest, "You could join me?"

"No" Brendon growls, his lips pulling into a tight line, "You fucking lied to me, Gabriel." It takes his mind a little bit of time to catch up to his actions, but he's stumbling out of bed and pulling on his pants well before that. He glances at the time as he pulls on a button down, buttoning it totally wrong so it's crooked and disheveled but he doesn't really care. "You've been gone - gone since we woke up. And you- God, Gabe you fucking wreak of alcohol."

Gabe is sitting up now, getting to his feet and eyeing Brendon sort of cautiously, this look of confusion on his face, "What are you- I got you flowers, Bren. I went out to this place down town and-" he reaches for a bouquet on the nightstand, but freezes and just watches Brendon as he continues.

"No. Six hours<\/i>, Gabe? I've been waiting without a phone call, without anything, for six fucking hours and now. Now you're going to try and lie <\/i>to me again<\/i>? I'm not stupid Gabe, I know." Brendon starts shuffling around, grabbing his jacket and a few other things he thinks he'll probably want, "I know you were out drinking at- at where ever the fuck you went, and last night you were on fucking uppers or some shit and. You know, if you're not ready to take this fucking seriously then-" Brendon is practically shaking as he tugs on his jacket, so frustrated he can't even think straight. When he looks up from pulling on his shoes to see Gabe right in front of him, he doesn't even think twice about shoving him away, "You are a fucking asshole, and maybe you'd be better off if you'd actually give living your life a fucking shot once in a while. But no, you're never, ever-"

"What the fuck you're leaving aren't you? You're going to-"

"You're never going to change and we both know it. It's not like I haven't tried, I haven't done everything in my power. You have your drinking pals, right? Your drug dealers?" Brendon pauses,<\/font><\/p>

"Brendon, no. It's just this once. I can't do this on my own. You know <\/i>that." Gabe's voice is a little slurred (which is no surprise) and Brendon really has to hold back from rolling his eyes and telling him to go fuck himself right then and there. He can't stand talking to Gabe when he's like this. Can't be around him when he's stumbling over his feet and his breath smells like a fucking liquor shop. So, if this is how it's going to be, Brendon can't sit around and fucking wait all the time. Hope that someday Gabe will take his words, his faith, his trust, for real and do this right. He can't. He's so sick and so tired. Gabe reaches out and touches Brendon's cheek, breathes out, "I need you, Brendon."<\/font><\/p>

Brendon steps back though, shakes his head, "You don't need me." he zips up his jacket, clenches his fists, "You never needed me. I guess that's why the band stopped coming around, hm? Because you just didn't give a flying fuck about them or anyone but yourse-" Gabe must be so much further gone than Brendon expected though, because he's not ready (never would be ready. Not now, not later, not before. Gabe was never like this. Gabe was never...) when the blow hits, when he's falling back against the wall behind him, hands covering the right side of his face as he falls to his knees. He bites his lip, too <\/i>hard, as his eyes begin to water, slumps back against the wall and makes a small noise, something close to a whimper maybe.

Gabe look furious, beyond anything Brendon's ever seen in him. His eyes, they are scarier than he'd like to admit, like to remember. They're not soft and secretive like they are before Gabe straddles Brendon's hips or kisses his naval. They're not searching like they normally are either, just hard and dark and fucking scary. Scarier than when he's dropped acid or- or anything and it makes Brendon's heart race because he can see how dialated his pupils are. They're nothing like that. They're hard and scary and narrowed on Brendon like he's the fucking scum of the Earth. Brendon wants to throw up. Brendon's shaking. He can't understand how, or why, Gabe - Gabriel Eduardo Saporta<\/i>, the man he's been with, helped for so fucking long - could fucking hit <\/i>him. It doesn't make any sense that the man he's fallen so fucking deep for who he's never, ever, let down could do this. It's not him. It's not.

Brendon sniffs, curls his legs up to his chest and hides his face. He might be crying, maybe, but it doesn't matter. It's the ache. That's all it is.

"Oh my god. <\/i>Oh my- Brendon." There's a hand on his shoulder and he jerks away, shakes his head without looking up. He doesn't want to look, he doesn't want to see, he doesn't want anything real anymore. "God, I'm - fuck, so sorry. So fucking sorry, oh my god." Gabe tugs on the cloth of Brendon's sleeve, "Please, just. Please look at me? Bren."

Brendon, after a few minutes of silence, wipes at his eyes, looks up to meet Gabe's. Gabe looks disbelieving, shocked. He gasps quietly and reaches out to brush the hair from Brendon's face but Brendon turns his face away, inhales deep and let's it out. Four counts in, five counts out. Four counts in, five counts out.<\/i>

"I'm so fucking-" Gabe let's out what's probably a sob, a moan, but Brendon isn't looking anymore. "Sorry. So, so-"

"Go to bed, Gabe." Brendon mumbles, "go." and he shoots him a look, blank but stern, his eyes a little red maybe. With that, he forces himself to his feet, hesitates at the bed (he should probably take the couch?) but climbs in nonetheless because he doesn't have a blanket and he'd like to go to sleep now. Just, for now.<\/font><\/p>

Gabe lays down beside him, but they seemingly are keeping a fair amount of distance to themselves. This is the only time Gabe has ever given personal space. Infact, Gabe is worse than Brendon when it comes to crowding people's space when they quite obviously don't really want you too, and that's sort of saying a lot.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon rolls onto his side, facing away from Gabe, and mutters a goodnight before doing his best to fall back to sleep. <\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

By morning, Gabe has grabbed the spare blanket from the closet and is sprawled out on the living room sofa (his feet dangling off the end since he's way too tall to sleep on their small couch). Brendon thinks that's pretty fucking useful. <\/font><\/p>

He hurries through the morning, feels like he's just on autopilot as he sort of tidies on his way through. He doesn't even have to get dressed today, he's still got his clothes on from the night before. (sort of sloppily. He totally fixes the buttons) He writes a note to tell Gabe where he'll be. Why he's not here. Not to call unless he's fucking dying or something, or until he wants to cut the shit because Brendon, he's done. After last night, he can't be here when Gabe has relapsed. He can't risk himself for Gabe. He cares, but he can't do it anymore.<\/font><\/p>

He leaves this note on the bathroom door (because he very well knows Gabe will get it that way) and a glass of cold water on the counter by the sink there (because he knows Gabe is going to need it), and leaves. When he passes Gabe on the couch, he maybe stops to press a kiss to his forehead, maybe. A goodbye. That's what he's calling it.<\/font><\/p>

-<\/font><\/p>

Jon opens the door with a welcoming smile and Brendon feels some sort of light feeling, excitement or happiness or something like that, he feels it wash over him. He smiles. "Hey, you." Jon greets. He knows something is going on because when Brendon called, he had this sort of shake to his voice, was sort of hurrying through everything he said as if he wanted to get the call done and over with. Brendon is expecting questions, but he's ready to give answers. He's ready to reclaim his life just that little bit. "Come in." Jon says, waving Brendon in the house and shutting the door behind him.<\/font><\/p>

Ryan and Spencer were here when he called, and still are, so he has to wait a while to actually address it. This is the first time he's talked to either of them in - well, a lot longer than he has for Jon. He's busy playing catch-up for the first two hours of his visit.

"What's up guys?"<\/font><\/p>

"Nothing, absolutely nothing."

"Ryan wrote a song about his love for all of us. It's the cutest darn thing." Spencer interjects, swooning mockingly.

"Shut up, it's not about any of you. I just was struck with inspiration to write about -"

"About how much you love and need and adore your three brethren." Spencer beats his eyelashes, "No hiding it, Ross. You have feelings."<\/font><\/p>

Brendon chuckles. He knows he's walked in halfway through the conversation and he goes with it. They spend the night talking about everything and anything, until Ryan and Spencer decide it's fucking late and take off. They each give Brendon a hug before they go and Brendon is reluctant about letting go, and he can tell they are too. He says, "Give me a call sometime." and they each promise that they're going to be bothering him more than he can stand. Brendon likes the idea.<\/font><\/p>

And finally, he's alone with Jon. Sitting beside him on the couch with his feet pulled up and crossed. Jon sat angled toward him, watching.<\/font><\/p>

Brendon breaks the silence this time, "I'm not moving into Gabe's."

Jon nods, waits for Brendon to continue. When he doesn't Jon asks, "What's going on, Bren?"<\/font><\/p>

"I don't think it's working - or, I don't know. I don't think I'm seeing him anymore." 'Working out' implies that they had something, which he likes to think they did, but they didn't really. Not in reality. <\/font><\/p>

"Why?" Jon asks quietly, tone soft and patient.

"He's fucked up again. He- he relapsed again, you know? He was trying and I thought we'd make it. I thought he-"

"Wait," Jon shakes his head, raises an eyebrow, "What?"

"Since the band's been gone, you know? He's just been such a wreck and I've tried so hard to help but I can't. He won't. It's not- I don't know what to say anymore."

"Start from the beginning." Jon scoots closer as he continues, puts an arm around Brendon and pulls him close to his side, "Tell me everything."<\/font><\/p>

Brendon does. He totally opens up, falling to pieces about losing Gabe to this, about having no one to turn to, about losing himself<\/i>. When he tells Jon Gabe had hit him (it's been nearly a week that he's been away, it's hardly bruised and it only stings when he touches at it. All those years of Ryan Ross and his make-up certainly do pay off though) Jon tells him it's time to call someone, rehab or a therapist or the hospital. Tells him  not to go back, not to go back ever. Brendon says no, says he can't make any promises, says "I love him." Jon, the ever caring soul he is, tells him to shut the fuck up and listen because he's worried.

"If he ever <\/i>lays a hand on you, Brendon, then he's not fucking worth the trouble. Infact, I think he lost that right a long time ago. You're just so kind hearted and if he's going to use that to his advantage, use your feelings for him-"

"He doesn't know any better, Jon. That's how he is. It's Gabe, he doesn't- maybe he could love me." Maybe. If he wasn't so in love with the high he can get elsewhere. If he could see. If his mind was clear.<\/i><\/font><\/p>

Jon shakes his head. Says, "Don't go back there." a pause, and because Jon knows better, "I can't make you stay away, but if you're going to go back, it's not going to be until he's fucking ready to be clean. Ready to treat you right and stop having you be second best." another pause, "And you need to tell him all this. Tell him that you're hurt, that you - for whatever fucking reason, I won't ever understand - love him." He makes Brendon promise to start caring for himself and not just for that asshole. Brendon does.

He sleeps there that night, falls asleep watching a movie with Jon. Jon runs his fingers through Brendon's hair, plays with it, until he falls asleep with his head in Jon's lap. He wakes up in the morning covered with a thick quilt with the smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the air. He has a wonderful morning. He misses mornings like this so much, back before Cobra ended he and Gabe could do this. He and Jon or Ryan or Spencer could do this because they still saw eachother like everyday. Sit and talk over breakfast before they go out for a hike or for a night at the club. (Brendon hasn't actually gone out and had drink himself in...God, longer than he'd ever think he would a year or two back. It's weird to think about how things have changed.) He's so grateful for another chance to have this in his life. Friends. Happiness. Love.<\/font><\/p><\/a>


Part II?<\/span><\/a>
","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/21783.html?view=comments#comments","category":["angsty whore","gabe\/brendon","omfg","jon\/brendon","sadtimes","panic at the disco","fic","cobra starship"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/21582.html","pubDate":"Sat, 21 Mar 2009 20:43:01 GMT","title":"I Needed More","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/21582.html","description":"

Name the 10 most played bands on iTunes<\/strike> last.fm.

1. Linkin Park
2. Anberlin
3. Ludo
4. Panic At The Disco
5. Blink-182
6. Flobots
7. Trapt
8. Korn
9. Brand New
10. Cobra Starship

What was the first song you ever heard by 6? (Flobots)<\/em>
Probably Handlebars or Rise.

What is your favourite album of 2? (Anberlin)<\/em>
I guess I might have to say Never Take Friendship Personal since I do infact like every song off that album.

How many times have you seen 4 live? (Panic At The Disco)<\/em>
D: sadtimes, I have not [yet]!

What is your favourite song by 7? (Trapt)<\/em>
Fuck. It used to be like, all of their first album. Then Stand Up or several others off their second. Then Black Rose? My love for them! It's emense!

What is a good memory you have involving the music of 10? (Cobra Starship)<\/em>
General stupidity and dancing. Dancing in Gregory's car to Guilty Pleasure?

Is there a song of 3 that makes you sad? (Ludo)<\/em>
Broken Bride EP is sort of sad? It doesn't make ME sad but you know...Oh, but Go Getter Greg is currently a little upsetting (Read: I NEED TO WRITE.)

What is your favourite lyric that 2 has sung? (Anberlin)<\/em>
THERE IS SO MUCH :[
Let's pick one good one: "It's not that I hang on every word. I hang myself on what you repeat. It's not that I keep hanging on. I'm never letting go" -Dismantle Repair [Not my favorite probably, but I love this song so...]

How did you get into 3? (Ludo)<\/em>
Cindy was all "HEY LISTEN TO THIS!" and I did. And enjoyed it. Then the cycle continued as so.

What was the first song you heard by 1? (Linkin Park)<\/em>
One Step Closer, maybe? D: memoryflail.

What is your favourite song by 4? (Panic At The Disco)<\/em>
Oh, geez. Mad As Rabbits, Folkin Around, Build God, or Camisado?

How many times have you seen 9 live? (Brand New)<\/em>
Sadtimes again.

What is a good memory you have involving 2? (Anberlin)<\/em>
Good times...cleaning? That's all I've got. Maybe I'll see them someday too \/0\\

Is there a song of 8 that makes you sad? (Korn)<\/em>
Daddy can be sad times? :[

What is your favourite album of 5? (Blink-182)<\/em>
:\\ self-titled?

What is your favourite lyric that 3 has sung? (Ludo)<\/em>
Shit. Uh. Fuck. Let's go with some lulz. "You can watch Good Will Hunting by yourself. (You bitch please die!)"

What is your favourite song of 1? (Linkin Park)<\/em>
The Untitled?, Leave Out All The Rest will always have a special place with me [sadtimes], and Carousel?

What is your favourite song of 10? (Cobra Starship)<\/em>
alkfja uh.
Lately: Kiss My Sass, Damn You Look Good And..., and Guilty Pleasure
Previously: It's Warmer In The Basement, The Church Of Hot Addiction, and The Kids Are All Fucked Up.

my liiife. >.>

How many times have you seen 8 live? (Korn)<\/em>
D: stopthis.

What is your favourite album of 1? (Linkin Park)<\/em>
"Hybrid Theory" (E.P. and L.P. because I'm a cheater). < You win, Cindy.

What is a great memory you have considering 9? (Brand New)<\/em>
Uh. >.> idk? Singing along to them and drinking tea?

What was the first song you heard by 8? (Korn)<\/em>
More than likely ADIDAS or Freak On A Leash, y\/y?

What is your favourite cover by 2? (Anberlin)<\/em>
I guess it'd have to be their cover of Depeche Mode - Enjoy The Silence.<\/span><\/a>

Basically, I'm lurking a lot today. Writing occasionally. Contemplating photographs and OMFG, vegetarian lasagna later! Catch up with this thing later :]
<\/span>
","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/21582.html?view=comments#comments","category":["catch up?","surveys are fun sometimes","music"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20893.html","pubDate":"Fri, 13 Feb 2009 18:51:51 GMT","title":"Best Kept Secret And Your Biggest Mistake","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20893.html","description":"

Short and stupid update.<\/span><\/p>

Sissy went back because of some illness she has that I couldn't pronounce, nevermind spell. So who knows if and when she'll be back.<\/span><\/p>

I'm still home though [to my somewhat surprise], because Ray is stepping up and he's even staying at Mom's.<\/span><\/p>

Cindy stole me for like 2 days. We had funtimes.<\/span><\/p>

I want my fucking hard drive algjalgajalkjg<\/span> NO MORE OF THIS BULLSHIT.<\/span><\/p>

General angst and flailage these passed few days. Fail.<\/span><\/p>

Greg and Cindy later! That is all.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20893.html?view=comments#comments"},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20688.html","pubDate":"Sun, 08 Feb 2009 18:38:18 GMT","title":"I've Known You In Every Life I've Lived","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20688.html","description":"SISSY IS COMING TODAY<\/strong><\/span><\/span>!!1!<\/strong><\/span><\/span>

And I am having nostalgia. That is all.<\/span>
<\/strong><\/p>

P.S. <\/span>I woke up with nice thoughts this morning. It was wonderful.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20688.html?view=comments#comments","category":"home [soontimes!]"},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20372.html","pubDate":"Sat, 07 Feb 2009 14:47:26 GMT","title":"Hide The Key, Cause I'm Coming Over","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20372.html","description":"

My dream last night was absurd. Cindy, Greg, and I went to this free Styles Of Beyond show, which was apparently quite some distance away. There were two small stages directly across from one another and about two other people there. We sort of whined about how stupid people were but then we went and found some seats. We were joking around and laughing to the point of falling out of the seats when out of no where at least two members of Panic showed up? I mean what the fuck is that? There may of been more but I can't remember.
<\/span><\/p>

I can remember how I woke up. Today has been good so far, despite the fact that I went to sleep at like 2, and woke up at 6:58. I was expecting Kodi to be like me [at his age] and sleep in on the weekend just a little bit. Instead, he woke up earlier than usual. I was sleeping on the couch downstairs and he just laid down next to me and said "Dissy?" It was cute, and he's been calm and very well behaved today.
<\/span><\/p>

I ate some vegetarian lasagna for breakfast simply because I was starved and read a note that mom left me on top of the laptop. I got a little disgruntled when I was discussing my hard drive with Mom but then pushed it out of my mind and prayed that it would work when I get home.
<\/span><\/p>

Ray came and put up a small bed in Kodi's playroom. That'll be nice since he can pass out there some nights when he's being difficult, or else I <\/em>can sleep there. Plus, Sissy is coming tomorrow and we now officially have 4 beds [one slides out from beneath the one in Kodi's room]. Now he's got Kodi and is taking him to get a haircut.
<\/span><\/p>

Get this, he even talked to Mom as directed and...there wasn't an argument? Woah.<\/span><\/p>

Cobra is still on blast at my house at all opprotune moments. We're going to see them. Wut? Now that <\/em>is a pleasing thought.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/20372.html?view=comments#comments","category":["sleeeeeeep","vegetarianism","kodi","family"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/19978.html","pubDate":"Fri, 06 Feb 2009 15:53:59 GMT","title":"kajghwaoj","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/19978.html","description":"

Me and electronics are not friends.<\/span><\/p>

First my harddrive, then this piece of shit computer...and now my harddrive isn't coming up? I don't see how it could've gotten fucked up considering the only thing strange that happned was that mom used the computer and like 5 minutes later it started making a strange buzzing noise. I swear to god if it somehow got magnetized, I'm going to kill a bitch.
<\/span><\/p>

I went to device manager and it knows it's there, and it says it's working properly but still no sign of life in my computer<\/span>. I'm going to have to check it out when I get home and<\/span> if all else fails I may have to try to do data recovery. Though, that probably costs money and may not even work so...Lord knows.<\/span><\/p>

Karma is trying to kill me. Something good happens then lots of bad things happen. Kodi threw up this morning and I cleaned that up in the midst of trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with this thing. I'm hoping it's just my shitty laptop, but it's doubtfu<\/span>l.<\/span><\/p>

I'm going to go focus on something less upsetting.<\/span> I feel like I'm <\/em>going to throw up.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/19978.html?view=comments#comments","category":["anxiety","fail","aglkajglaj","electronics commiting suicide","helpmeplz?"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/19168.html","pubDate":"Tue, 20 Jan 2009 04:43:06 GMT","title":"Just Look At This Carboard Cut Out","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/19168.html","description":"This puppet that you've become.<\/em><\/span><\/strong>
Let me be the first to acknowledge you've no pride,
you've no purpose.
It's so typical to think less is more when you're out of the lead.
Don't hurt yourself. Settle for less.
It's so typical to think less is more when you're out of the lead.
Second-hand interpreter, the spoken word for change.

Wait for me. I can't hear you. Hold the phone, we've found an answer.<\/span><\/em><\/strong>

Today has basically been full of me doing chores, watching Kodi, and sitting here trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. All day. And I still haven't got it. Things are changing, and I'm not even sure if it's for the better or not. I fear that things are going to fall into a similar pattern as after my parents split up and...God, I could not do that again, things are hard enough as is.<\/span><\/p>

For the passed 3 or 4 hours I've been fighting with a panic attack. Kodi is asleep and my eyes are blurred but I'm just now eating for the first time today since my stomach has been in knots. Mom's still out right now and when I called she said she felt bad and asked if I wanted her home and I told her no repeatedly and she told me how she hasn't done this years and 'now she sees why I like doing this at Cindy's' or something to that extent. Funny thing is I just called to make sure she wasn't getting totally trashed. Because I know she wasn't going to tell me she'd been drinking, but she got caught out on that one. I don't want her to go back to that [see above paragraph, really].
<\/span><\/p>

I'll probably be in a similar mood tomorrow, and the day following. Oh actually, Thursday I have a babysitter. Technically she'll "treat me like an adult" but still. She'll be here so Kodi can "get used to her" and I don't know what to make of that either. She's nice but...kind of overly nice. I dee kay.
<\/span><\/p>

So hopefully I'll go home eventually. The woman who will be watching Kodi is busy this weekend so I guess I'm fucked this week. I don't know yet. We may also be losing cable, phone and internet. Not sure when we'll be able to pay it, we're really fuckin' in the hole. And fuck, there's like no food in the house. Things need to start getting better.
<\/span><\/p>

I hurt everywhere and feel kind of like crying. And this food in front of me is looking less and less appetizing but I won't let myself go to sleep without eating. I keep thinking I'll like die or something. Or maybe my weight will just drop like crazy again and then I'll have to start drinking boost all the time again. I need to eat, panic [hah] attacks or not.

On a lighter note, I'm still on some kind of Cobra Starship kick. I also listened to TAI and Pretty. Odd. earlier. Well, atleast their upbeat. OH and CCMT ... the day after tommorrow! [...I don't remember why Mom wasn't at work today :\\ Damn my mind is shot.]
<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/19168.html?view=comments#comments","category":["anxiety","music","kodi","family"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18616.html","pubDate":"Wed, 14 Jan 2009 02:27:59 GMT","title":"Always Up or Down","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18616.html","description":"So I haven't had this intense of a panic attack in ages and it just won't go away.<\/em> It's like there's this weight pressing down on me and I can feel it in every single pore on my body. My insides feel like they're eating away but then somehow I feel completely numb and I feel like I should  be shaking but I'm not entirely sure that I actually am. And breathing? I apparently can't do that properly. This is what fuckin' happens when I think too deeply about life and fucking everything <\/em>and I want to just curl up with puppy and sob for a few hours until my mind is totally erased of any of this and maybe my chest doesn't feel quite so tight. <\/span>There was this ironic line of a song as Dad shut off the car, but I can't remember it word for word. It was something like "your fear of getting older" or something like that, and that's precisely what I want. Stop time but still live? I guess. I want things to be less fucked up in my mind and more chill. And maybe for a pleasant surprise in the near future. Give me something here, I have dreams and I have wishes and I like to think that I deserve some fucking congratulations or at least a bit more stability or more self esteem or...God, what the fuck am I even going on about anymore? I'm done. This has hopefully done it's part in making me fucking chill out. <\/span>
","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18616.html?view=comments#comments","category":["anxiety","fuck this","sendhelp!","aglkajglaj","life"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18336.html","pubDate":"Sun, 11 Jan 2009 15:22:51 GMT","title":"I Know It's Sad That I Never Gave A Damn About The Weather","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18336.html","description":"

So what the fuck, weather? You can stop anytime now. <\/span><\/p>

You know how fullfilling it will be when I move a far distance away and don't have to shovel every three hours? Not that I'm not excited to be home in willitown, just frustrated is all. With the snow and my Dad's attitude now and again. I dee kay.
<\/span><\/p>

Until I get a better plan, I will be dancing about\/pacing to music on my surround sound. Better plan soon, kay? That'd be nice.<\/span> Also, productivity. That'd be nice too.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18336.html?view=comments#comments","category":["and it never gave a damn about me","fuck snow","sendhelp!","aglkajglaj","home"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18145.html","pubDate":"Fri, 09 Jan 2009 14:19:04 GMT","title":"The Only Way To Go Is Through The Roof","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18145.html","description":"

So I've realized that I can't delve into deep matters whilst alone without mentally and physically freaking out. When I start falling in too deep I go back to fic, or youtube, or...something<\/em>, So far today, finished one story, started a shitfic [this is reading, of course, not writing], watched Wristcutters with Norie [lawl], and did all our laundry and some dishes. Now I'm just counting down. 8 hours and counting. Expect lots and lots of hugs and hyperactive overly sentimental Caitlin bouncing about your house soontimes, Cindy\/Gregory\/Andie[?! I MISS YOU]. :] <3<\/p><\/span>
","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/18145.html?view=comments#comments","category":["anxiety","home","family"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17778.html","pubDate":"Thu, 08 Jan 2009 14:35:38 GMT","title":"I'm Going Crazy, And I've Been Awake For Days","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17778.html","description":"

I guess<\/span> I get that people don't know how to handle mom like I do, they don't understand<\/em> her like I do [and I don't mean in the "I consoled her through rough times" kind of way more of the "I totally know how to evade this\/stop this from getting any worse" kind of way] but there's another thing Ray clearly doesn't understand. The fact that I need stability, clarity, a straight answer and plan. I need to know now, right now, whether I am leaving or not. I don't want a "That depends on your mother" or a "I don't know." I want an answer and I want it now. <\/span>I haven't slept, I'm fidgety and just a bit homesick right now, and I'd like answers. I do not want what I caught of the shortest arguement ever to occur to keep me from what I want. I think I deserve this<\/span> even if I feel pretty fucking worthless right now. I still deserve to go home. My irresponsibility is almost reasonable really. I feel shitty for sleeping too much and even worse for snapping at Kodi every now and again, but you know...I do do a lot, whether you believe it or not. This week has been off, all the more reason for me to go home and lighten my spirits. I don't want this to happen again. Not a-fucking-gain. Please, quit while your ahead.

On a good note: Kodi was wonderful this morning. And! I'm still awake! I can do this. I swear I can. SCHEDULE FLIPPING TIME!
<\/span><\/p>

That is my rant for today. I'm going to go finish reading awesome AU high school story and hopefully get a smile or two in today. I'll be angsting about, feel free to spam me with fun comments\/stories\/pictures\/music\/...words?\/WHATEV. <3<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17778.html?view=comments#comments","category":["angsty whore","fail","kodi","aglkajglaj","home","helpmeplz?","family"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17468.html","pubDate":"Wed, 07 Jan 2009 12:45:33 GMT","title":"...And Boy Did They Have Fun","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17468.html","description":"

So a good portion of my morning has been spent doing as follows.<\/span><\/p>

I read some good stuff on and off, but that's irrelevant and I'm moving onward. It feels as if most of my night was spent going up and down the stairs because my dearest little brother peed the bed at around 4 or 5 or I don't know, something, and may of just finally passed back out right now. So I'm hoping. Whilst venturing up and down the stairs I made note of the fact that I would be totally shit at stealth\/sneaking because I can't seem to get down how to not make the most annoying creaking noises when going up and down the stairs. Everything is so loud and echoing and what the hell, man, I'm glad I don't sneak out a lot like cliche teenage behavior dictates. Along side that, every time I hear movement upstairs I tend to glare at the wall as if I can see through it with my super-big-sister-x-ray-vision and scold him with my intense glare.I'm not feeling like a super big sister lately though. It's like if I'm not watching him 24-7 and\/or doing everything <\/em>I feel worthless and totally unable and just...like shit.
<\/span><\/p>

I've been plenty inspired to write or get something <\/em>accomplished but lack any kind of will or enthusiasm I guess. Mostly I've had plots and ideas and day dreams playing out in my mind with excruciating detail, dying for me to do something. <\/em>I really want to go home but I think the definition is sort of blurring at this point, for "home" that is. I just can't understand. One minute I'm putting things off until I get "home" referring to, well, my hometown, the place I always long to be [though I feel awful leaving here, and just...Kodi], then a moment later I'm doing the same for this place. It's like heart versus mind, and responsibility versus emotion and...Lord knows. Nostalgia has come back to smack me in the face too, though mostly in a nice, ginger, love tap kind of way. Like "Hey, remember me, I'm your happy memories!" But of course the fact that my ex, the one that was a part of my first real and fucking full fledged heart breaking relationship, just turned 21 four days ago stirred about a few of the bad ones. <\/span><\/p>

Also, forgive me if I'm wrong...but I think I should understand myself and my thoughts and feelings more thoroughly than I do. And why the fuck can't I express myself and have a straight up, serious, "here's my heart, my soul, my mind. let's pick through it here and now."  conversation with anyone when it feels so fucking good when I do let that little bit loose. I kind of know it's got something to do with my insecurities which is no big surprise in anyway. My always feeling shitty when I talk about myself or what's wrong or whatever it may be, doesn't help. What also doesn't help? My lack of social skills, and will to gain them. And why is my mind running in circles like it's trying to catch up to itself ?[the idea of my mind being similar to a dog trying to snag it's own tail is amusing. Maybe I'll have some fucking break through the next time a dog nips the end of it's tail near me, just not with blood next time kthx.]
<\/span><\/p>

I don't know, but I'm going to go continue to chill out to Panic, and maybe? try to sleep. I don't think it's a good idea since it never leads to good things but I'll try my best. Maybe one of these days I'll have normal hours or something and feel less shitty and lost and...waiting for something awful to happen or for someone to flip shit. Nonetheless, I am done since my fragile mind will implode if I keep trying to think about anything specific, it's already tugging in millions of different directions. I'll lurk about here later or soon or...whatever.<\/span><\/p>

P.S. Sorry for all the crazy typos, I can't see well since my eyes are blurring [it's nearly 8 in the morning] and my mind can hardly keep up enough to get through this never mind fix my errors.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17468.html?view=comments#comments","category":["fuck sleep right?","confusion","kodi","home","helpmeplz?","family"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17335.html","pubDate":"Tue, 06 Jan 2009 14:20:40 GMT","title":"My liiiiife.","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17335.html","description":"

Dear myface,<\/span><\/p>

Please promptly gtfo. You are not my bff.
<\/span><\/p>

ever hating you,
<\/span><\/p>

Me.
<\/span><\/p>

-
<\/span><\/p>

Dear eyes,
<\/span><\/p>

I'd like to be able to see today. Please cut the shit.
<\/span><\/p>

sincerely,
<\/span><\/p>

the rest of you.
-
Dear self-esteem,
<\/span><\/p>

SUCK IT.
<\/span><\/p>

that is all.<\/span>
 <\/p>

-<\/p>

Edit: 

Dear LJ,
<\/span><\/p>

I was going to be productive and fix you but my poor mind is fragile and could not handle it. Maybe later? LAWL, SURE.
<\/span><\/p>

noloveatall,
<\/span><\/p>

Me.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/17335.html?view=comments#comments","category":["angsty whore","aglkajglaj","goddamnit."]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16920.html","pubDate":"Tue, 30 Dec 2008 19:56:18 GMT","title":"Can I Graduate?","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16920.html","description":"

The answer to that, Third Eye Blind, is yes because guess who just got their diploma in the mail?<\/span>

The next thing  I plan to do is call the transition lady, which I tried since she's supposed to be in on Tuesdays in Willimanitc but I have to call back next week. College for me? Let's see what we can do for next year.<\/span>

Otherwise, someone please please distract me. kthxbai.<\/span>
 <\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16920.html?view=comments#comments","category":"education"},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16377.html","pubDate":"Thu, 18 Dec 2008 09:51:00 GMT","title":"Catch a Cannonball now, t'take me down the line","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16377.html","description":"

So basically the past 2 days have been as exciting and fullfilling as they'd be expected to be. Kodi has gotten increasingly worse, and I haven't a fuckin' clue why he refuses to listen anymore but I'm certainly sick of it. I went to sleep at precisely 8 tonight and so I'm up at 4 AM, woo? Oh, one more day?! Sweet.
<\/span><\/p>

I've been writing. That's a plus, it's kept me somewhat pleased.<\/span><\/p>

I'm still sick of course, and it's fuckin' lame. My lip is also aljgaljgalgja I don't know, it needs cleaned. It's frustratin<\/span>g.<\/span><\/p>

I still sort of wish I had an idea, because I kind of want to get a piercing\/tattoo sometime after my 18th birthday. That'd be nifty. [Where the fuck is that word coming from?]<\/span><\/p>

So I've been geeking on PatD, Dispatch, FOB, and The Beatles. Oh, along with a lot of the other bands me and my hippy friends all bonded over. Lawl, I may of seen one of them the other day actually and Bree totally had Meadow already. It's fuckin' crazy and kind of upsetting, so we're moving on.<\/span><\/p>

So some of the few times Kodi was being cool were 1. straight up adorable because at first he was half-asleep. or 2. hilarious. The other day when I had Live In Chicago playing on my TV he told me that it was Elvis. And then he kept going on about my "boyfriend, Chester." until I made up a fake boyfriend named Fredrick. Then he said he didn't like him. Oh and he hadthe straightest face when he stood and told me that Elvis\/Brendon ruined his life. It was generally a grand ol' time.<\/span><\/p>

Then this morning he told me I had a virus in my brain that was making me play boy games\/basketball and dress like a boy. When I pointed out that I wasn't necessarily dressed like a boy he said that I would for halloween then said something about an alligator costume and told me I was supposed to dress up as a Princess. We talked about this with mom later when we picked him up from school and she said something about dressing up as Ryan Ross and how it basically would be both a boy and a princess. Cue, dying. <\/span><\/p>

Other than that, my throat sucks, my nose is worse, this sneezing needs to stop and I want a cigarette. :] \/randomshit.<\/span><\/p>

I'm gunna try to write now. kthxbai.<\/span><\/p>P.S. I'm too lazy to bother with tags once again. Maybe later. PFFT.<\/span>
","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16377.html?view=comments#comments"},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16034.html","pubDate":"Sat, 13 Dec 2008 10:54:40 GMT","title":"This was no accident, this was a therapuetic chain of events","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16034.html","description":"

So I woke up at four AM, what the fuck? <\/span><\/p>

Then, being the dumbass I can be, I decided to flip through my photo album. Turns out, that was not the best idea ever and it just made me all reminiscent [...who needs spelling right?] and antsy.
<\/span><\/p>

There's no real reason I'm updating. It's not like I ever open up about how much I miss my old life, not as much as I want to anyway. So, I guess just to remind myself not to do that again and to pass the time.
<\/span><\/p>

I'm having a cup of tea, and then hopefully a chai when we leave [IN LIKE AN HOUR D:]. After my test we're taking a trip to Manchester. After that I'll be ready and willing to bother Cindy\/Greg\/Andie. Be prepared. :]<\/span><\/p>

Until we leave I shall be listening to loveliness<\/span>, and hopefully lounging about. Probably pacing and muttering\/singing badly though.<\/span><\/p>

P.S. DDDDDDDDDDD: THIS JUST FEELS APPROPRIATE. Damned people. <\/span>[unrelated, and I wouldn't bother.]<\/span><\/p>

and now, I'm over it.<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/16034.html?view=comments#comments","category":["friends","education","teatime?!"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15788.html","pubDate":"Fri, 12 Dec 2008 04:08:54 GMT","title":"The lower you fall, the higher you'll fly.","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15788.html","description":"

Well, doesn't that just prove how much my night as fuckin' blown. I could just you know, leave it at that and let it be vague and cryptic, but I of course need to babble about nothing for another ten or so minutes. I give you warning.

I've been in this awful mood, ill, and generally just no fun. Kodi has also been absolutely out of control this week and I have no clue why, and pray to god he goes back to normal since he never used to backlash at me and this is fucking annoying. Thankfully he's asleep now, and I think it has to do with the fact that he's sick and considering I watch him constantly, he usually listens to me more than anyone else in our household [or out of it], he was doing a lot better in almost every way, and for the sake of my sanity, I pray I'm right on that [Hai run on sentence?!]. Another thing, I've been really reminiscent [I'm damn lucky if I spelt that right] lately and it's fucking annoying. I miss Andie, and I'm sick of watching my words with mom, I miss at least a somewhat more stable or normal relationship with my mother, and I generally just want to go back to the perfectly blissful moments I shared with people close to me over the past few years. I want something really fucking exciting or cheerful to happen right now, but I can't bring myself to actually do anything anyway. My self esteem has also run for the fucking hills so...I don't know. There's more, I just can't think. Whatever, basically I'm on edge, and I feel like a douche, and I'm thinking too much and algjaglaj what the fuck. I apologize sincerely for my bitchery.

So what I hope [and believe] I'll be doing with my night is: 1. writing something <\/em>2. watching stupid cartoons and politics. 3. being a sulky whore, smoking too much, and\/or getting lost in my own mind. 4. sleeping, so I hope, since I dozed earlier. 5. anxiously awaiting morning [when I'll then be even more so anxiously awaiting my test on saturday]. 6. reading more chuck palahniuk, nomnom. 7. Listening to music, or maybe just the rain outside the windows. It's fucking lovely, and if I wasn't as paranoid as I was to leave Kodi alone in the house I'd go out on the back porch [if you can call it that]. I hope it rains again soon, I love walking in this sort of weather. [Hai northern downpour?!] 8. Overall, giving up and becoming an emotionless hoebag who doesn't talk to anyone. Somewhere between 1 and 8 of those should occur at some point tonight.
<\/span><\/p>

The last is unlikely since I mutter to myself all the time and could probably talk your ear off right now.<\/span><\/p>

On a side note: I had punny\/clever\/silly quotes from TDI here before, but of course I fucked up and my LJ said no and peaced the fuck out.<\/span> But it made me smile, just so you know.<\/span><\/p>

Oh and hey! I was able to find the energy and the memory to put a different icon on this shit. My OCD is gunna shank me for it though [...for my lj in general, really].<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15788.html?view=comments#comments","category":["somebody shoot me?","friends","angsty whore","anxiety","books","aglkajglaj","family"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15424.html","pubDate":"Wed, 10 Dec 2008 13:31:51 GMT","title":"EVERYBODY SCREAM!","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15424.html","description":"

Okay, so basically I'm just updating because it's not even 8 AM yet and I'm in pain and desperately bored\/anxious\/OMFG [yeah, that's totally a state of mind\/emotion]. My current position on things\/meaningless thoughts that come to my mind, since I have nothing better to do. I make a kind of list because it makes my eyes hurt to have paragraphs staring me in the face right now, kay?<\/span><\/p>The life of an ice cream truck driver and a trash collector has to be the most mundane thing evar. I think I've mentioned this, but I will again. Personally, I'd sob if I had to do that shit. And tractor trailer's [fuck you, spelling]. D:
The people who created these kids shows without a doubt are\/were on drugs. Therefore, children should not be allowed\/forced to be put through this shit.
Who thought alarm clocks were clever? They're not my bff.
These shows [as mentioned before] = crack and I personally can't seem to look away.
MTV makes me want to sob.
Kodi just fucking said "I shit myself" [and I ran around to get him cleaned up and ewewewew] WHY MEEE?!
What the fuck? Why is it if I don't do ONE thing out of the millions that I do get done around here I feel like the biggest prick in the world.
In general, right now I feel like a terrible person. [P.S. Rooney has been stuck in my head all day too. lawl]
I'm a confused bitch.
I've been panicking to pass the time. [lawl]
I'm already fucking sick of Christmas.
I'm also sick of playing Mommy. AND being called Mommy.
I have become entirely too irritable [FUCK SPELLING, OKAY?] and impatient. UGHUGHUGH
I miss acting. And my old friends.
....this kids show just said "REV IT UP NOW! Rrrrrr!"
The public school system is fucked. Let's not teach them their ABC's but start teaching them how to read, and THEN after they were expected to read all these books we're sending home, we'll fucking teach them how the letters at the beginning of these words sound. I don't understand their logic.
I'm grateful I had a few years at SMSJ if this is what kindergarten was like elsewhere.
I want to read Chuck Palahniuk's new book but I'm sort of turned off by the summary. Though I imagine since he pwnz all, it'll be amazing and somehow twisted. :]
I'm embracing my love for people\/things that I had previously forbidden. Though, not without a fight.
Yes, I've given up. I've accepted it. It being Ryan Ross, of course.
I think I bit my lip to hell last...morning. God my sleep schedule fucking sucks.
Can I go back a few years, please?
I'm so fucking easily distracted.
I need more coffee.
And sugar in the raw [\/sugarcane?!] is probably the best shit in the world.
I WANT A FUCKIN' CHAI.
I'm really tempted to steal another  candycane but mom will probably start noticing soon.
I'm too fucking sarcastic for my own good lately. But it's good because then me and mom lawl a lot together and I don't have to worry about us arguing, y\/y?
ONE-ISH MOAR DAY?
I'm beyond nervous for my test on saturday, yet the worst is already done.
Today I am going to fix my schedule. I SWEAR.
...My coffee is cold.
And I think I just thought of a song but I can't put my finger on it.
I want to be fucking productive! I want to write, or I don't know, do something besides watch Kodi [watching tv], clean frantically until I literally have nothing left to do, and sit at the computer.
I'm addicted to music. And apparently PatD.
Linkin Park has decided to show up fucking everywhere and make me sob like a bitch. [I pelted the tv with a shirt earlier, kthx]
I wish my mind didn't go off on random tangents and leave me staring at Mom when she's speaking to me and then when she askes 1. some question I didn't hear or 2. why I'm laughing, I have to make up a bs story or else tell her "OH well even though this is totally unrelated and you probably won't get it..."
I HAVE A FUCKING HEADACHE. And our pain killers are huge.
I really have nothing left to say [not that I did from the start]  but I have nothing better to do still and it's passing the time.
I can't wait to start learning guitar again. and I miss playing piano.
Fuck that, I really fucking miss my piano class. Like, a lot.
...my TV just said "creep with us!" my response: "SURE."
....now tey're singing "creep. creep. retardando."
Oh and now they're roaring.
"THAT WAS SOME SNEAKY CREEPING *wink*" ....wow fuckin' kid's show.
I want to move far away, and like, now. Kay?
I also want to do something with this fucking LJ. Someone help me understand technology sometime because I'm impatient. kthx.
My head hurts and I can't even remember why I started this. I'm pretty sure I had something important to say or something relevant but then I forgot\/gave up.
Speaking of giving up, I'm gunna do that now, and laugh at myelf a bit.

<\/span><\/a>

 <\/p>
So, I'm going to go watch more children's shows and sob until like 9 when Kodi leaves with Ray [school at 12-ish]. Thennnn, I'll probably be here on and off most of the day whilst cleaning and taking care of the child. I will probably also panic some more because it entertains me. And wander around my house dancing\/singing obnoxiously with my ipod.

This is my wonderful, wonderful life. [lawl IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE. ...D:!]
 <\/span>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15424.html?view=comments#comments","category":["patd","sendhelp!","kodi","aglkajglaj","family"]},{"guid":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15023.html","pubDate":"Mon, 08 Dec 2008 02:41:09 GMT","title":"The Lips That Slip Are The Lips That Press","author":"behindthetied","link":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15023.html","description":"

Dear mind,<\/span><\/p>

Fuck off. :]
<\/span><\/p>

I h8 j00.
<\/span><\/p>

Forever,
<\/span><\/p>

Cait.<\/span><\/p>

O<\/span>n that note, I love The Cab and Panic. TIME TO CALM MYSELF WITH THEM [AND ANBERLIN. AND UNICORN\/JOHN SMITH COLORING!]<\/span><\/p>","comments":"https:\/\/behindthetied.livejournal.com\/15023.html?view=comments#comments","category":["friends","music","aglkajglaj"]}]}}