Concrete Roses (Ryden)

Good Morning

I gently reach to the other side of the bed and I'm shamefully relieved that Sarah isn't taking up the space. Incoherent grumbles fall out of my mouth as I sit up, the warm blanket falling from my shoulders and sending a chill down my spine. I squint to adjust to the god-awful sunlight Sarah craves so much. The curtains are always open during the day.

I grab for my phone after some much-needed arm stretches, and I immediately open Twitter and type Ryan Ross into the search bar.

Recent social media buzz and nightmares have me worried that Ryan isn't doing so well.

I shouldn't care how Ryan is doing, considering everything. In fact, I should be laughing at this or something.

Filler fan tweets are blurs as I skim through the most popular tweets for those two keywords.

I knew Ryan Ross wasn't okay. I wish we could do something.

I hope Ryan Ross can recover soon.

This whole thing with Ryan Ross makes me so sad.

One of them is more impactful.

So many people have abandoned Ryan Ross. He probably feels so lonely.

According to the original story, last night, some fans spotted Ryan slurring his words and stumbling around clubs and other hot spots. Him and some irresponsible 'friend' of his. Fan pictures were going viral, and boy, did Ryan look like shit. It was rumored that he had various drugs on him.

Memories flood into my mind. Countless times that Ryan had begged me to hold him all night, to keep him safe. Countless drugs and razors I had to pry from his hands. Countless promises that Ryan would hurt himself anymore.

Since 2009, so many stories have popped up under the Ryan Ross tag. Ryan seemed to have found relationships from time to time. Plenty about that, and it made me furious every time. Drug stories, rumors, article after article about his abrupt departure(to put it lightly) from the band... You better believe I read every single one of them. Every single one of them stung pretty bad, too.

I read a final painful tweet.

I bet Brendon doesn't even care about Ryan Ross' problem. He is such an insensitive asshole. He should feel ashamed of himself right now.

"The 140-character limit sure feels generous today," I murmur dryly, just before switching to another keyword.

Ryden comes up with endless results. I look through the newer pictures and, edited or not, they bring me comfort. Then there are comments about past flames, suggestions about underground communication between myself and Ryan, and links to fan-written stories.

I blink approaching tears away before I read another poignant set of words.

Wake up, people. There's no way it was just as simple as Ryan leaving the band. You have to realize there was more to it. #Ryden

My stomach drops as I suddenly feel sick. Sick of hiding the truth. Too many years have gone by. I continue to stand by while Ryan suffers on his own and I have always been too stubborn to stand up and be the bigger person.

I married just to force myself to feel love again.

I appear to ignore the one person who has always been the most important to me, for as long as I can remember.

I never "got over it". Holding onto these burning memories, no matter how sad they make me feel, is more bearable. More safe. And it gives me more control.

I realize that no nostalgic fan fiction will do the trick this time. I have to lift massive burdens off of my shoulders before I am crushed by them.

~~~

"Good morning! You sure slept in today,"

The energetic voice just minutes later causes me to look up, clear my throat, and lock my phone. A forced smile settles onto my lips as I stretch my arms again and I remember that I had woken up just after 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

Sarah continues as she saunters toward me.

"You must have had a rough night of sleeping. My poor baby,"

She rests one fragile hand on my chest, and the other on my cheek. She clearly notices that something is off.

"What--"

I cut her off with a shake of my head.

"Nothing, Sarah. I'll be alright."

"I don't believe you. You can tell me anything, you know," Sarah pushes, and to my breaking point I go. Quicker than I had anticipated.

"You know... I'm really fucking done with this," I say in the calmest voice possible. I stand up from the bed and grab a suitcase, continuing my rant.

"I really am. I'm not subjecting myself to this anymore. These... These lies! You have no idea! Nobody has any idea!"

The zipper of my suitcase is apparently loud enough to startle Sarah, and she winces. She wraps her arms around herself, and I pay her a mere glance.

She doesn't pipe up until she's been staring at me for a few silent moments.

"Are you asking to take a break?"

Her voice was tentative, and she was obviously holding back tears.

I grin, amused.

"Sure, you can call it that, honey."

I laugh dryly, no longer caring about pleasing others in my angsty rage. Sarah rushes out of the room, and I keep up with my plan.

~~~

The front door of the Urie residence slams as I walk out to the car, a couple of suitcases full of necessities.

I need to see Ryan.