The Holy emo bible

The Dolphin fic

Frank had grown disillusioned. Yeah, he had a beautiful girlfriend, and his YouTube channel was on the rise. He had fans, people who looked up to him, but it wasn't enough. He felt his life had grown dull, and he just wanted someone, something, to make him feel alive again. He walked along the beach, gravity-defying hair puffed upwards in the sea-salt wind. A fog had blown in, making the ocean appear milk-white. Something about the white expanse sent a shiver down his spine, as if a long-forgotten memory was being pulled up through his throat. A few yards down the beach, he saw an old dock jutting out like a broken tooth into the pale waves. Something about it made him curious, so he walked to the end and sat with his legs dangling over the water. The wind had picked up, and had masked the sounds of approaching footsteps. 

"Hello there, Frank," came a familiar voice from behind him. He jumped to his feet, startled, and turned only to be met with the most gloriously elongated forehead he'd ever laid eyes on. Below it was a strong, handsome face that he knew, but couldn't place. "Don't you remember me?"

"No, I'm sorry. I feel like I know you, though... From somewhere..." Frank trailed off, searching the gentle but chiseled face for answers. It was as though he could hear the man singing, in another place, another time.

"My name is Brendon. I'm surprised you've forgotten. You must have repressed those days. I don't know why -- you were so... alive," the man told him. A shock ran through Frank, starting in his toes and running through his body. The man began to gently sing in a language long since forgotten, and Frank could feel himself changing. He saw, faintly, the thick black line forming beneath his eyes before his silver-dyed hair grew into a shaggy, black mane that covered half his face. His heather gray sweater morphed into something black and faded -- a shirt from a band that had died a few years back. His jeans grew tight and black, but still managed to be baggy around the ankles. Respectable canvas sneakers became Sharpie-marked, weather-worn Chuck Taylors with thick black laces. The memories he had fought to repress came flooding back in blinding Technicolor, and then a flash. Frank screwed his eyes tightly shut against the glare. When he opened them, he remembered. The emo days. The eyeliner, the smutty fanfiction. He remembered all of it. Brendon smiled devilishly, a glint in his warm brown eyes. He ripped his shirt in twain before throwing himself into the water. Moments later, a smooth dolphin reared its strangely long head.

"B-Brendon? Is that... you?" Frank asked. The dolphin sang the first sixteen bars of "There's A Reason These Tables Are Numbered..." in response. It was indeed. Frank could not contain himself, and jumped down onto the dolphin's back. It swam out a few yards before fluttering off into the sky with a vocal riff. The clouds and fog departed, but the milky water remained. Brendon landed back in it, RYDEN along the gentle waves. Out of curiosity, Frank scooped a handful of the liquid into his mouth. The water wasn't water at all; it was whole milk. Brendon's blowhole spurted the milk into the blue sky with a few unbelievably high notes. They rode a bit longer, before a figure appeared coming towards them on a cresting wave. It was Patrick Stump, his fedora gliding seamlessly along the waves. Brendon raced to meet him. 

Frank could not contain himself, not in the presence of such a beautifully talented man and an equally beautiful hat. He shed his skinny jeans, positioning himself carefully over Brendon's milky blowhole. Brendon knew just what to do, and, with great force, spurted hard enough to propel Frank into the air. The milk entering his body made Frank squeal to the tune of the Smash Mouth hit song "All Star." Nothing could rival his euphoria, or so he thought. Patrick had climbed onto Brendon's back, and, with a mighty heave, thrust his fedora into the white stream. The hat found itself buried in Frank's sweet emo ass, and Frank screeched loud enough to make the entire collective Phandom shut up (not for long because they're extremely dedicated and sometimes terrifying, but it did). Another light flashed, brilliantly bright, and Frank welcomed it with eyes wide shut.

Frank opened his eyes on the dock. His previous outfit was back, and the eyeliner and fringe had disappeared. The ocean was a sparkling, bright blue. 

Frank would never tell anyone what happened that day, but he would forever hold April 20th in his heart as the day that had forever changed his life (and his ass).

FIN