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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Panic! At The Disco

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.


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Car Crash Hearts
By indie_chicky


Their love truly was like a fairytale.

Ryan was the boy with dreams, but nowhere to go. He walked through the halls of his high school, alone, but always carrying his music with him. When he graduated, only one of his classmates came to hug him and tell him that he hoped college would go well. The rest just smiled and waved from afar, only acting like they were friends. Not surprisingly, his dad couldn't make the occasion, but his mother was there, smiling and telling him that everything would better once college started. He remembers snapping at her constantly because she has always been such an optimist. Except, of course, when dealing with Ryan's father. That was the only topic the two of them agreed on. The only thing Ryan had to keep him going was Spencer. Spencer, Brent, and the new mysterious dark haired boy with the snarky attitude and outdated glasses. For some reason, Ryan liked this boy. Maybe it was because he would fight with Ryan. The other two just figured that because Ryan had passion, he had talent also. But Brendon knew when something was off and he knew when word choices just weren't right.

Brendon was Ryan's prince charming.

When Brendon smiled, his whole face lit up. His mouth grew wide and dimples formed underneath his cheeks. A certain glow emanated from his eyes and he would giggle just a little before blushing, embarrassed, and letting out a more “manly” laugh.

He was confident, maybe even overtly proud. He was the apple of his parents' eyes. Sure, he was a little rebellious, but only selectively. For the most part, he still went to church, and as far as they knew he was going to marry a sweet Mormon girl and have the perfect life.

Well, perfect by their standards at least.

But fairytales always have their unconventionalities. And while the tale does have a happy ending, there are always trials. Tragedies. Things that make it seem as though the dream will never come true. And those things are usually the things you'd never expect. The people you'd always expect to be by your side, no matter what.

Families. Ryan's father. Brendon's mother. The two roadblocks on the path to happiness.

First, the father.

………………………………&hel lip;

It was an early spring morning when Ryan arrived at Spencer's house and decided to sit outside against the garage door instead of going inside to meet his best friend. He sighed and rested his head against the door as he thought about the day's upcoming events. Pete Wentz was coming here. To see them. To see if they were good enough (which Ryan knew they weren't going to be). It would be just another shattered dream to add to his collection. If those things were real, Ryan wouldn't have known where to keep his.

He looked up into the blinding sunlight, squinting to see the form walking up the driveway to meet him. This was sort of a ritual the two of them had. They would arrive about a half an hour before they were supposed to and just sit together before practicing or writing more or changing things or just sitting on the couch watching static and game shows on Spencer's shitty black and white garage television. They could have always gone in the house, but there was something about that TV that made them want to stay. Maybe they just enjoyed the company more than Family Feud.

Brendon plopped down on the asphalt, making a loud thumping sound as his back hit the garage door. Ryan looked over at him, frustrated.

“Dude, could you be a little quieter? He's gonna hear us.”


Ryan looked over and saw Brendon looking apologetic, and almost sad. He kept fidgeting and moving back and forth, making sure to quietly tap the garage door.

“I didn't sleep at all last night. I'm so fucking nervous.”

“What if my words aren't good enough? What if we don't play like we should or something breaks or….?”


Ryan instantly shut up when Brendon shouted. Now, it was him who was looking apologetic.

“Relax, man. We can do this. We've done it a thousand times.”

“Not with Pete fucking Wentz in our garage. Oh God, we should've rented a space or something. How is it going to look when we play in the garage? And with Spencer's fucking parents there? Shit, I never thought of that!”

Ryan was practically hyperventilating when he felt Brendon's fingertips scratching at his palm. He tried to wrap his fingers around the older boy's but Ryan pulled away.

“Brendon, you know we can't. Not here. I know practically everyone in this neighborhood. If they find out, and they tell my dad…”

“I know, I know. I just…”

“I understand. I'd want to hold my hand too.”

Ryan smiled at his joke as Brendon laughed, his face brightening up instantly. Their nerves seemed to move from today's life-changing performance to the glint in Brendon's eye whenever Ryan was around, and the smile that never seemed to leave Ryan's face when Brendon sang.

“We'll tell them soon, I promise.”

“You don't think Spencer knows? We're not exactly careful when he and Brent are around.”

“I've known him a long time. I can tell when he knows my secrets, especially the big ones. And this one? It's as big as a secret can get.”

“I just don't want to hide anymore, Ryan. Don't you love me?”

Ryan stood up, and he could feel himself getting angrier at Brendon by the second.

“That's a really shitty thing to say, Brendon.”

“Well, don't you?”

“I don't have fucking parents who think I'm a perfect angel! Everything I do, according to my dad, is wrong. So you want me to just go up to him and tell him that I have a boyfriend? Yeah, that'll go over real well. Are you going to identify my body down at the morgue?”

“Don't say shit like that!”

“It's true! You don't get it!”

“You're right, I don't get it. I don't get why you always want to hide. Are you ashamed of me, Ryan?”

“You're an asshole. You have no idea what it's like to live in my house. You've never lived somewhere and thought you'd be better off dead than in that house. So don't fucking guilt trip me. It's not like you've told your parents either!”

Brendon, having no argument left, walked off to the front door, pounding on it until Spencer opened the door, looking tired, but dressed to impress, a change from his usual t-shirt and jeans.

“Hey, you're early. Couldn't sleep either?”

It seemed as if Brendon's anger had completely vanished as he chuckled lightly and smiled at Spencer.

“Nope. Ryan's a fucking mess. You should go talk to him. I'm gonna make a sandwich.”

“Don't eat all my dad's cheddar. He gets pissed off when it's gone and then he blames it on me, you dick.”

And just like that, Brendon walked off into the house, acting as if nothing had happened and blaming the fight on nerves.

………………………………&hel lip;……………

About two hours later, Ryan was standing in the garage tuning his guitar, Spencer was making sure he had enough sticks to last for the three songs they were going to play, and Brendon was talking to Brent. The doorbell rang and their stomachs dropped. This was it. Spencer practically ran off to answer the door and Brendon walked over to Ryan, whispering low.

“Don't make this about me, okay? Just fucking play. We'll deal with us later.”

Ryan met Brendon's eyes and nodded. He had to look away or he would have kissed Brendon right then and there. Brendon always made his nerves go away, but today, there was nothing he could do to calm the other boy down. Except…

Ryan looked down and saw Brendon squeezing his hand and smiling genuinely.

“Good luck.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Suddenly, they heard two sets of footsteps returning, and Ryan looked up to see Spencer entering the garage with a new companion, Spencer looking wide-eyed and nauseous. He walked around the group, unnecessarily introducing himself to each of them. He stood back and smiled, looking at the four teenage boys standing in front of him, fresh faced and eager, but all looking like this was the last place they wanted to be in that moment.

“Don't be so fucking nervous, guys. You're making me all fidgety and I'm not even performing. Just show me what you've got.”

They all nodded briskly and went to their instruments, Brendon clearing his throat and gripping the microphone stand like it would save his life. By the end of their three songs, he was sweating bullets and felt like he had been singing for hours. His voice was hoarse and he looked to his side and saw that Ryan had broken four strings because he had been playing so hard. Behind him, Spencer was setting down his seventh drumstick.

Pete stood up and smiled, closing the small book he had been making notes in.

“Let's go eat. I'm fucking starved. Where do you guys want to go?”

They all remained silent and he laughed.

“I know, wherever's good with me, right?”

They laughed nervously in agreement as Pete motioned them out of the garage and toward his car.

………………………………&hel lip;…

He had liked them.

Shitty set and all, he liked the sound. Wanted to make them stars.

Ryan had simply wanted to make it through the songs.

Now they were going to record them. Sell albums. Tour.

Leave. For good.

Ryan couldn't stop smiling as Brendon's car pulled into his driveway, dropping him off at home.

“Can you fucking believe this?”

“We might have to find a new singer. I think I'm going to die of shock.”

Brendon leaned his head back on the driver's side headrest and closed his eyes, still gripping Ryan's hand where it was out of view in case his dad happened to be looking out the window. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Brendon opened his eyes again and turned to Ryan.

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Ryan squeezed Brendon's hand one last time before getting out of the car and walking toward the door. Brendon rolled down his window and stuck his head out.

“Hey. I was talking about the band.”

Ryan walked back to the car and crashed his lips into Brendon's, putting one hand on the back of his head to steady their kiss from their awkward position. They broke apart and Brendon looked shocked, but Ryan simply smiled.

“I know, but I wasn't.”


Not in the living room, not in his bedroom.

There was only one place Ryan's father could be.

When Ryan walked into the kitchen, he saw the all too familiar sight of his father slumped over the table, hiccupping and loosely holding a light green bottle. Ryan tried to reach over and take the bottle out of his hand, but this seemed to make him seem more aware. He sat up and took in Ryan's form. Ryan sat down across from him and sighed exasperatedly.

“You're too skinny, boy.”

“I know, dad.”

“Still, all in all, you're a good kid.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Do anything today?”

“Um…a really important guy from this record label came and saw us play. And he really liked us. He's going to let us record an album.”

“Ryan, I told you this music shit isn't worth anything. You're going to college like we talked about. You're practically going for free. Do you want to throw that scholarship away?”

“Yeah, I do. And I'm going to.”

“Are you getting an attitude with me?”

“No, I'm just telling you, one adult to another, what I've decided to do with my life.”

His dad scoffed, finishing off the light green bottle.

“You're no fucking adult. Don't kid yourself.”

“There's something else I need to talk to you about.”

“Whoa, who said we were done with the music thing?”

“I did.”

His father stood up, slightly stumbling and pushing away the chair he had previously been using. He was slightly taller than his son, and Ryan almost passed out from the pungent scent of alcohol emanating from his father's mouth.

“I don't like the way you're talking to me.”

“Then, you're not going to like what I have to tell you next.”

Ryan had never felt this confident before in his entire life. Normally, he would be submissive around his dad, just shutting his mouth and replying “yes, sir” before heading back up to his room. But today, he realized he was going places. And he was going to say all the things he had been holding inside for so long. And, suddenly, his motivation was clear. He was going to leave with Brendon and never look back.

“I'm in love.”

“Love isn't real, Ryan. I was in love with your mother. Look how well that turned out.”

“That was different.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“Because I'm in love with Brendon and I've never been happier.”

The words tumbled out of Ryan's mouth effortlessly. It was so strange because the secret he had been keeping for so long didn't seem like such a big deal anymore. It was simply the truth.

“And I know you can't possibly get how your son can't be such a `disgusting faggot', as you so commonly put it, but this is what I am, and if you don't like it, that's something you'll just have to deal with.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!”

Ryan did as he was told, but not out of fear. It was simply because he had nothing more to say.

“I don't have much to take and my guitar's already at Spencer's so I'll just be leaving now. Have a nice life, dad.”

He started for the door when his dad grabbed him by the back of his collar.

“We're not finished here, Ryan.”


Brendon Urie stood looking out his bedroom window at the warm Nevada night. His parents had gone out for the evening, and if he had more than three friends to invite over, he would have had a house party. But instead, he had settled for watching “This is Spinal Tap” for the hundredth time and eating all the Hostess snack cakes he could find. And now, as he was about to go to sleep, he heard the doorbell ring and looked confused. His parents must have forgotten their house keys.

He jumped down the stairs, taking them two at a time like he had done when he was a kid, and finally reached the bottom. He opened the door, preparing to playfully scold his parents when he saw Ryan standing outside the door, a small bag in hand. He looked up from his intense staring match with the welcome mat and Brendon could see the remains of tears. And next to that, deep purple bruises on and around his eyes.

Brendon gasped and pulled Ryan in the house in a tight embrace, causing him to drop his bag. At first, Ryan just laid in Brendon's arms, letting himself be held by someone who loved him. Then, it seemed as if Ryan was afraid that Brendon might let go, so he hugged back, grasping at handfuls of Brendon's t-shirt, latching on to the younger boy. Brendon could hear Ryan's ragged breathing, trying to hold back tears. Ryan leaned up to Brendon's ear and Brendon could feel his hot breath as he whispered roughly.

“Don't ever think I don't love you.”

………………………………&hel lip;…………

Brendon opened his eyes and blinked, adjusting to the lights of the bus as thunder rumbled outside. He listened closer and he could hear rain pelting the windows. He started to turn over in his bunk and go back to sleep when he realized that the thing he was laying on was breathing. He smiled and closed his eyes again, gliding his hands along the boy's sides and stopping at the bottom of his t-shirt, playing with it and tugging at it.

“Quit, Brendon. I'm trying to read.”

Brendon sat up and looked at Ryan, sprawled out on the couch, legs spread to make room for Brendon's previously sleeping form.

“Did I miss the movie?”

Ryan nodded, and turned the page, not bothering to look up. Brendon noticed that the clock was about 2 hours later than the last time he had looked at it. Earlier they had left Jon at the airport so he could catch his plane home and now they were almost back to their homes. Brendon figured that Spencer had already gone to bed.

“What? Come on! We have to start it again.”

“Okay, judging by the fact that you were singing `I Just Can't Wait To Be King' in your sleep, I'm going to have to say that you've seen it enough.”

“Really? Was I good?”

Ryan reached over with one hand and smiled, ruffling Brendon's hair and still keeping his eyes on his book.

“You were amazing, baby.”

“Oh dah-ling, you're too kind.”

They laughed and Brendon gave Ryan a quick peck on the lips before hopping up to grab something to eat. He was about halfway to the dining area when he heard his phone ringing from the lounge.

“Ryan, can you answer that? I'm making popcorn. You can't watch The Lion King without popcorn.”

“I told you, we're not watching that again…Hello?”

“Hi honey.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Urie. This is Ryan.”

“Oh, hello, Ryan. How are you?”

“I'm good. And you?”

“Fine. Is my son around?”

“Hang on one second. Brendon, it's your mom!”

“Tell her to hold on! I'm busy!”

“It's okay, Ryan. I was just calling to ask him how things are going with Tiffany.”


“You know, his girlfriend? Tiffany Winters? We still haven't met her, but the way Brendon talks about her, he could marry her today and I wouldn't mind one bit. What do you think of her?”

“You know, I honestly can't say.”

“Well, I'll just call him later. You have a good night, Ryan.”

“Uh-huh. You too.”

Ryan hung up the phone and threw it on the couch. He stood up and walked down the narrow hallway to where Brendon was standing, watching the popcorn popping in the microwave. He looked up and saw Ryan standing there staring coldly.

“Sorry. She can be a bitch sometimes. I should have just told you to ignore it.”

“You fucking bastard.”

“Ryan, what the hell?”

“The name Tiffany Winters mean anything to you?”

Brendon's eyes grew large and he felt as if someone had shot him right in the heart.


“Yeah, shit. That's the perfect word to describe what we had, what kind of person you are.”

“Ryan, listen….”

“No, you listen! Did you have fun dragging me along, watching me fall head over heels for you, suffering at the hands of my own father for you?!”

“She's not real!”

Ryan was breathing heavily, and in his rage, he almost didn't hear what was said.


“I made her up.”

Brendon felt so ashamed that he couldn't even meet Ryan's eyes. He knew what he had done was terrible, but it was so hard. How do you say something like, “Mom, I need to tell you that I'm gay.” Or “I really love Ryan, Mom, and I can't ever imagine feeling this way for anyone else.” Sure, those feelings were true, but it was better for everyone if it was just a secret. He could have a relationship with his parents and Ryan. He wouldn't have to choose between them and he wouldn't have to lose anyone. He thought Ryan would understand this, but it seemed to only make him angrier.

“You made me feel so guilty. All those times you'd ask me if I was ashamed of us, or why I would try to hide us, I never thought you'd be doing something like this. Such a fucking hypocrite, Brendon Urie. That's all you are.”

The bus stopped and Spencer hopped out of his bunk, bags in hand, clearly still half asleep. He muttered something that sounded like a goodbye, and didn't even notice that two of his best friends were right in the middle of a huge argument. Ryan grabbed his bags off the floor by the kitchen counter and started to follow Spencer off. Brendon moved toward him and grabbed his arm, holding tightly and forcing Ryan to look at him.

“Please, Ryan, I'm sorry. It was so stupid. Don't walk away like this.”

Ryan sighed and shook his head, shrugging Brendon off.

“I'm sorry too, Brendon. I'm sorry I thought you were worth all of this.”

“Just stay. I can make this up to you, I promise.”

Brendon can't stand to look in Ryan's eyes anymore. They are piercing him, making him feel like his insides are exploding with guilt. He's sweating because he's about to lose the only thing that's ever meant this much to him. He can feel Ryan slipping away as he forces himself to himself to keep Ryan's disappointed gaze.

“Go home. It's over.”

And as always, the eloquent writer hit hardest with the smallest amount of words. What he had said wasn't anything deeply elaborate, but it had made Brendon feel worse than he ever had. Ryan is turning his back on them, on everything they had, because of Brendon's stupid mistake. The word “over” has never seemed so final as it does right now. Finished. Done. Through. No more. Brendon can only whisper silently to himself as he watches the boy he loves walk away.

“It's over.”

………………………………&hel lip;…

“Mom! I'm home!”

“Brenny, it is 11:30 at night. Could you please not yell?”

“Sorry. Hey, listen, can I talk to you about something?”

His mom sighed, standing in the foyer in her nightgown and slippers.

“It's late, honey. Can we talk about it in the morning?”

Brendon licked his lips nervously, like he doesn't know what to say, and yet, he knows what he has to say. The words are just begging to tumble out of his mouth, but he restrains them, keeps that nagging voice yelling “Just tell her!” quiet.

“Yeah, sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

She started to walk up the stairs, smiling at her son as he stands there, frozen. She has started to walk away, and he's panicking. He has to do it tonight, or he'll never do it. And then, he'll lose Ryan forever.

“Mom, wait.”

She turned around, confused and exhausted.

“What, Brendon?”

“This can't wait. I have to tell you.”

Brendon's mother knows that it is her duty to listen to her son, no matter what he has to say. So, she walks back down the stairs, motioning for Brendon to sit down beside her on the living room couch Brendon has known ever since he can remember. But he simply stands, fidgeting with his belt loops because he doesn't want his mother to think of her shameful son every time she looks at the couch.

“What is it?”

“This isn't easy. I don't want to hurt you because I feel like children should never hurt their parents. It's like a debt they owe beginning at birth. And I know I've done some things that you aren't proud of, but you still love me. And I'm hoping you'll still love me after I get this off my chest.”

“Brendon, are you sick?”

“No, I've never felt better.”

“Then, I'm not so sure I understand what you're trying to say.”

“Mom, there's no Tiffany. I made her up so you wouldn't think that the stuff people say about me is true. But it is.”

“There's another girl, right?”

“No, mom, you know damn well there's no girl.”

“Brendon, there's only one other option, and I refuse to believe that you're…you can't be.”

Brendon doesn't want to hurt his mother, to make her wish that he had never even been born, but there's no easy way to say this. He just has to say it directly, no matter how she winces or cries. Ryan is so important to him. He won't lose him again.

“Yeah, I'm gay. And I've found the person I'm going to be with for the rest of my life, that is, if he takes me back for lying to him.”

“No, you can't do this to me.”

“Mom, I'm not doing anything to you. I'm still your son, and I still love you. I want you to love me and respect the decisions I'm making. I'm not your little boy anymore.”

His mom looked up, blinking back tears and refusing to look her son in the eye.

“I don't even know you anymore.”

“Because of one thing? You're being ridiculous! I'm in love and all you can do is cheapen it!”

“It's not cheap, Brendon, it's plain wrong! You can't feel this way!”

“Well, I do, and I'm sorry if I'm not good enough for you anymore, but this is the way I am going to live my life. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go apologize to Ryan.”

“It was him, I knew it! I should have never let you run around with him! I knew that boy was no good from the very beginning!”

“Don't you put this on him!”

This is the first time Brendon has ever threatened his mother, even gotten angry with her. He has never felt so confident and so scared at the same time.

“Don't hurt your father the way you just hurt me.”

“Don't worry. I won't be around that long.”

Ryan's mind was reeling.

How could he have said those things to Brendon?

The best thing he had ever had…gone.

Yeah, what Brendon had done was wrong, but he had done it because he was scared. Ryan of all people should have known how scary a relationship like theirs was.

He kept thinking about the night's events, and realized that he had only taken two steps inside his apartment and he was still clutching his bag of clothes and souvenirs.

He stepped inside and threw the bag down, checking through old mail, outdated issues of various magazines, his own made-up face staring up at him from one of the covers. He looked at the boy next to him, jumping in the air, trying unsuccessfully to land on Jon's back and smiled. And then, he realized, he might never see that smile again. At least, the smile would never be directed at him. All of a sudden, Brendon's face made him angry and jealous. He picked up the magazine and threw it in the garbage. Then, he reached over to his side table where a picture of he and Brendon smiling in Australia stood. He muttered obscenities under his breath and shoved the picture in the table drawer.

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door and figured it was a creepy fan who had camped out on his lawn waiting for days for him to come home. He didn't even want to know how they survived out there.

“I'm going to bed, so you might as well give it up!”

The knocking stopped for a few minutes, and Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, going off to throw on some old sweats and call it a night. Then, the knocking started again. He tried his best to ignore the noise, but it was incessant. Finally, he walked over to the door and threw it open, ready to go off on a group of giggling teenage girls.

Instead, he saw a boy about his age, wearing a black hoodie and red rimmed glasses. The boy looked up and smiled apologetically. Ryan simply frowned and crossed his arms.

“I thought I told you to go home.”

The boy reached behind him and picked up a few small suitcases, tossing them inside Ryan's apartment. Then, he threw his arms around Ryan's neck, pulling him closer as their lips teased and brushed. Ryan flicked his tongue out and Brendon captured it instantly, taking it inside his mouth and pulling Ryan closer, tangling his fingers in the older boy's hair. Ryan's hand roamed down Brendon's back and smiled into the kiss as he felt Brendon shiver with his every movement. He stopped his hand at Brendon's waistband, and Brendon broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Ryan's. He smiled warmly.

“I am home.”


The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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