hate // ryllon

one

I stare at the post with anger fueling through my body. Sometimes I wonder why people say fans are fucked up, but now I completely understand.



'@localryanrossslut: 2 years since jessica died lol so we decided to mess up her gravestone a bit (we have been informed that the graffiti was washed off lol bet dallon did it) but tbh she deserved to slit her wrists also dallon needs to man up n quit acting like a baby he acts as if suicide is a new thing like boohoo she killed herself get over it'



The picture is of Jess's grave and there is a girl flipping it off. There is graffiti on it that reads, "follow Ryan Ross."

I place my phone down before I throw it across the room. I know everything they've said isn't true. They don't know how or why she did it, but I do. I know, they don't, and I feel like I'm about to break either way.

It took me 5 months to accept Jess's death and heal over it. I know exactly what she wants me to do. Move on, don't get caught on emotions, keep going. She said so in her note, along with wanting me to love another who will make me as happy as she made me, if not happier. Find someone who is able to make me angry and happy and worried all in one second, someone who can make me want to start a completely new dream and supports me even though they know the dream will only last for three hours at 2 AM. Someone who drives me insane but only from how in love I am.

It's impossible.

There's no possible way I can love someone the way I loved Jessica Jane Winslet, and I'm not sure I want to.

My phone buzzes and anxiety shoots through me, and yet I still force myself to pick it up and look at the notification.



Spencer: Hey I saw a post about you and Jessica and I'm not sure if you've seen it but I wanna make sure you're alright?

Spencer: It involved her gravestone and Brendon and I have already reported it and gotten Sarah and some others to report it as well but for now I just wanna make sure you're okay

Me: I'm fucking fine



I turn off my phone and find a charger. I'll turn it on and it'll be charged, but I need a break from it all. Screw Ryan's fans, screw Instagram, screw the internet. I've never let so much hatred boil up inside me until right now, and as I reach for my coat, I realize the one thing I never thought I'd have to admit.

I fucking hate Ryan Ross.





Vicky had mentioned before to me about her party. Not supposed to be like a high school party, but not supposed to be high class either.

"Hey, I'm so glad you made it!" Vicky tells me. I smile and hug her. I can distract myself for one night.

"I am too."

"You look a little stressed, are you alright?" she asks me as she pulls away. I frown. "You're tense and you have your glasses on, which isn't normal. I only wear my glasses in public when I've had a rough day and feel too lazy or exhausted to take them off. Everything alright?"

"It... you knew Jessica, right? I think you briefly met her backstage?"

"Oh, my God, yeah, I do."

"Today marks a year since she died, and... some fans messed with her grave and said some messed up things. You might see it, maybe ask Spencer or Brendon, but..."

She watches me with a certain horror and sad filled look, so I look around the crowd before I take in any more emotions.

"Yeah, so this night is kind of like my getaway night. Try to focus on something other than suicide and breakdowns."

"I won't say a whole lot since you wanna get away from the thought, but whoever did that is fucked up and you don't deserve bad shit like that, and neither does Jessica. Anywhere is better than here, and I'm glad she is resting peacefully in a better place now. Anyway, I want you to have fun, relax, and let this be the one night you don't have to think of or deal with suicide, don't have to be around someone you hate, and can later sleep all night after having a night of relaxation."

A guy approaches us and she seems to get more excited, so she hurries up to him, grabs his hand, and I don't realize until he is smiling right in front of me that it's none other than Jon Walker.

"Oh, hey," I say politely. He is fine. Ryan is the one I have a problem with.

"Hey, man! I'm happy I can finally meet you," he says, and I copy and politely hug him as well.

We talk a bit, getting to know each other briefly when suddenly we aren't talking anymore and Vicky turns to quietly ask him, "Where is he?"

Jon looks at her as if he isn't sure how to answer, but replies with something I can't hear over the crowds and the music.

"Oh, yeah, Dallon, if you wanna go get drinks, they're over there in the kitchen! Beer, water, soda, juice, yeah, go ahead if you want some, but no drinking if you're driving tonight."

Jon hesitates and suddenly looks nervous. Vicky and I seem to realize it at the same time.

"I can drive you home, and if you have any friends who are here with you, I can drive them too."

"Just one, and yeah, that would mean a lot. My phone died and I think Spencer would kill me if he found out I drove while drunk, or at least a little tipsy."

I smile and nod, then excuse myself from the conversation so they can catch up. I turn and walk towards what I'm hoping are the drinks. I've never gotten drunk, but I don't wanna try it out tonight, especially since I'm now a designated driver.

The kitchen isn't hard to find, thank goodness, but I still have to maneuver my way through the crowds of people without wanting to be stopped or run into someone. I bump into a girl right when I reach the kitchen, turn, apologize, turn again, and my body slams against someone else. Something splashes all over me and my glasses and I hear a plastic cup fall to the ground as someone gasps. I look down and take my glasses off, attempting to clean them as someone begins to stutter and apologize profusely.

"I— oh, my God, I'm... I am so sorry, I didn't think anyone was gonna turn the corner, and-" He turns around and seems to anxiously find two towels. He gently gives me one as I put my glasses on and I realize exactly who it is. My heart sinks and more anger fuels inside of me as he tries to nervously dry whatever he had just spilled on me.

Vicky's party is definitely filled with a few hundred people at least. A few hundred, and yet, of course, the one person I run into has to be the same guy I hate with a burning passion.