Rewrite Your Happiness (A Ryan Ross Fanfiction)

Do You Know What I'm Seeing?

"3, 2, 1, WOOHOO! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

"And look at that, three years later and the world still hasn't ended like everyone said it would. What a drag."

I heard faint cheers ringing my ears. I squeezed my eyes farther shut. New Year? I thought it was September. I rolled my head, but I couldn't sit up. Sit up? When did I lay down? Ugh, why was everything so heavy?

"Okay, guys, give'er some space. Like, the crunk girl is totally waking up." A lazed but informative voice said nearby. I opened my eyes slightly to see wisps of my blonde hair and a blur of faces staring down at me. I sluggishly rubbed my face with my only working arm. Crunk? The hell kinda word is that? 

My eyes quickly snapped shut to escape the overwhelming light. "Hah," another voice said, "more like fallen and can't get up." I heard laughter erupt from my left. Someone growled at this. "Dude, she's far from crunk. Trust me, I know." Everyone lowered their chattering at this person's point. What was going on??

I forced my eyes open to take in my surroundings once more. I was...I was in a carpeted room, and it was not my apartment's! It was a large family room, if I'd ever seen such a thing. Everyone was dressed up, holding red plastic cups and wearing glittery hats or glasses. Some of the hats read "Happy New Year" or "2003!" The last time I saw someone celebrate the year 2003 was when I was just starting grade school. What did I fall into to see this? Seriously this had to be a joke.

A skinny kid with a black button down shirt and skinny jeans shoved his way through some party goers and kneeled to the left of me.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked in a nonchalant tone, placing his hand behind my head so he could look at me. His eyes were brown like his hair, but his locks were longer and looked unusually dated. Then I remembered the year mentioned. Right, 2003, whatever that meant. I still wasn't buying it.

"Can't...move." I coughed and croaked with heavy breath, patting my throat with my only working arm. My throat was so dry I couldn't speak right. The boy looked around.

"I need some water over here." He demanded. The chatter started to return to the crowd as the boy in the black shirt put his knee behind my back and helped me sit upright. Someone passed him a half empty bottle of water. He quickly popped the cap, put it to my lips and I drank. My sandpaper throat went moist and my vision enhanced drastically. I looked down to see I'm wearing a red party dress with a large leather belt. How did I get into this? I may have wore a dress to the concert, but that one was navy blue and I would not put this belt with such a dated dress.

Concert? Right, I remember getting back from a concert before all of this happened. But what happened afterwards? Why was everything still so hazy?

The boy held up his hand in front of me with sudden expression of concern. "How many fingers?" He asked, looking into my eyes with a great amount of focus. I glanced back and forth between his eyes and his hand, feeling rushed by the sudden question. I answered as quickly as he spoke.

"Four."

"More like foreplay!" Someone yelled. An uproar of laughter suddenly erupted from the people surrounding me. My ears started to ring as some bystanders stumbled around and spilled their drinks on the boy and I. Turning my head to the right, I could see a girl with dirty blonde hair and a shirt that says "Pet Salamander" filming us with a camcorder. Someone next to her was a girl snickering to the other and texting with a...Sidekick cell phone??

(A/N: You know you want it. These were what started the phones-taking-pictures trend. It was all us kids wanted before turning 13.
...most of us still never got it. We ended up with these stupid high def iPhones/Samsungs/Androids, am I right? So boring! Someone throw me a friggin' Keyblade so I can travel to this world and live that life!!)

I suddenly felt like I was being lifted. The boy in the black shirt was...carrying me. His arms were shaking as the grasp around me grew tighter. Seeing the lack of muscle on him, he was really risking personal failure just to be a gentleman. I heard whooping and whistling. "Yeh-heah! Ryan's gonna get some!" Before we turned the corner, I see the girl who held the camcorder give me a dirty look.

The boy took me to some nearby bathroom and quickly set me down on the tiled floor. Out of breath, he leaned against the doorframe. His flimsy arms were shaking harder than before, probably from not being one to lift weights prominently. He started to chuckle. "Well, shit. I think I just did the cheesiest thing ever."

I was silent. I clutched my temples with both hands.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?? This was starting to scare me. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Come on, Elise, concentrate. What happened after the concert?

~Flashback~

I sighed and looked longingly out the window, lightening cracking on the horizon. "Wherever you are right now, I wish I could rewrite your happiness, Ryan Ross."

Another crack of lightening flashed outside. But it was followed by the flicker of a woman's face. It was brief, but all I saw was platinum hair, black eyes, and feathers jetting from her head. Who...or what was that? "Are you nasty?" I saw her whisper. I shook my head slowly. Why was I complying with this weird...vision? Her eyebrows lowered and she gave me a mad smile. "Good...but it's better if you do." The lightening cracked again.

The window shattered.

I saw stars in the shape of archaic clocks swiftly spiral past me and everything went white then black.

~EOF~

That's right. The last thing I remembered was Ginger stopping at my apartment after that Death of a Bachelor concert and a woman in the lightning of an oncoming storm asked me if I was nasty...soon after, the lightning struck my window and I blacked out. My conclusion: this is a strange-ass dream and I just gotta play along until I wake.

"No, it's fine." I responded hesitantly. "Thanks for getting me out of there. Someone must have hit me really hard as the ball was dropping. Must have been knocked out cold." I lied with an awkward laugh. I didn't drink much, but I have passed out from exhaustion on certain occasions. I looked the mirror and I was in shock. Did I really look that baby faced? Who was I looking at? I mean, I was staring at me but it was a version of me I hadn't seen in a long time. I noticed my makeup was more on point than it was for the concert. And...was that a winged eyelash? I couldn't accomplish one of those even if I tried. It made me really look like I was 15 again. Whoever did my makeup, I liked it.

Still, this was getting me anxious like some Freaky Friday and Your Name scenario on too many levels. It was scary.

"...you seem to know what you're doing in situations like these." My voice cracked, continuing to make conversation with this boy while spritzing my face in cold water multiple times. Wake up. WAKE UP. This has to be a dream.

He meekly smiled. "It was nothing, really. I've been to a lot of parties. I don't want to drink until I'm old enough. Heh, my girlfriend will probably kill me after that stunt I just pulled, though...actually, I honestly don't care what she thinks of me after that. I'm just glad you are okay." I turned to give him a wet cloth to wipe off the alcohol. As he took the cloth, I looked at him properly only to furrow my eyebrows. He looked almost familiar, despite my never being here before.

"What was you name again?" I asked.

He half smiled and started rubbling the back of his neck. "Ah, yeah. Sorry, it's George. But everyone calls me Ryan. Please, I'd much prefer if you just call me Ryan. Ryan Ross."

Ryan Ross..? Where had I heard that name before? Was it that guy who..? Oh my gosh. No, it couldn't be...

I forced a big smile that probably appeared everything but confident. "Well hello there, uh, George Ryan Ross. I'm Elise Zemitis. Nice to meet you." We shook hands. Our handshake was firm, but drenched with sweat and the spilt alcohol. I could feel his callused fingertips on the back of my hand as he broke eye contact. This time, I genuinely smiled with the small pang of a headache. His face was turning red out of nervousness. I was shaking hands with HIM. It was so...awkward.