When Blood & Youth Were Warmer

Chapter Six

Pete stood in the terminal of the O’Hare airport, impatiently tapping his foot against the ground. Ashlee was flying in for a month, and he was waiting for her… but where was she? He wanted to see her more than anything – he needed her right now through everything that had been happening. She was his shelter and he hadn’t been able to see her since they left New York. Her plane just landed. That only meant a few more minutes until she was in his arms again.

He glanced behind his glasses at a few people staring at him. He hated when people stared – it was really rude in his opinion. But when you were famous, they couldn’t help it. Couldn’t they tell that he didn’t want them staring? Couldn’t they tell that he just wanted to see his girlfriend and get the hell out of the public eye?

It was a head of blonde hair that caught his eyes as she came racing through the arrivals gate. She paused for a moment to look around, and then her eyes locked with his. Within a moment she was bounding across the terminal and soon found herself in his arms. Wrapping his arms protectively around her, Pete gave her a long kiss on the forehead and spun her around. “Hey, Ashlee,” He said as he set her down, taking his hand and gently running it down the side of her face.

“Hey,” She greeted him as she leaned up and gave him a soft kiss. After a moment she pulled away and said, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come sooner, Pete. My dad was being an ass and wouldn’t let me leave until we got two more tracks done… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize. I understand,” The bass player said as he took his girlfriend’s hand and led her over to where baggage claim was. Usually the two would have been all over each other like they usually were… but given the situation, both were extremely quiet and gripped onto each other’s hands and didn’t dare let go. After a few moments, they grabbed onto the two bags that were hers and – still hand in hand – made their way towards the exit. “I have Joe waiting outside to take us to the house,” Pete told the singer, who nodded her head solemnly.

After making their way to the black Range Rover that Joe liked to drive around and putting in the luggage, the two climbed into the back seat; Pete on the left side and Ashlee in the middle. Keeping their heads low as they made their way out of the airport to ignore the stares of bystanders, they both raised their heads as soon as Joe took the left turn to get them out of there. “Hi, Ashlee,” Joe said as he glanced in the view-view mirror. “You’re looking quite gorgeous today.”

“Thanks, Joe. It’s really nice to be able to see you, too,” Ashlee said with a weak smile across her face as she leaned against Pete, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rested his head on top of hers. “How far is the drive to your house?” The blonde asked softly as Pete replied, “About forty minutes with all of the traffic. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just really tired. I was up all night packing to make sure I didn’t forget anything because I won’t be going back for a while,” Ashlee said with a soft sigh. “You want to sleep for the ride?” Pete asked, and Ashlee nodded her head. “Sure,” She said quietly. She tilted her head up to look at him and she said, “As long as Joe doesn’t wake me up by blasting Kanye West again.” Joe, at that, started snickering, causing Pete to glare at him through the mirror. “He won’t. I’ll make sure of it,” Pete said, still eyeing Joe, who had stopped laughing but was smiling really wide. With that, Ashlee nodded and closed her eyes, her head still resting against her boyfriend’s shoulder.

It was so good to have her here again… even if it only lasted for a month. She was still here for a month more than he thought he was going to see her for.

Andy smiled as he and Nicky walked through Central Park. This was the second full day he was able to spend with her, even if it was at midnight… it was still a day for them. The two were walking with their arms interlocked as they walked on the sidewalk, simply talking about everything and anything. They weren’t hiding anything… they didn’t feel the need to.

“So,” Nicky said with a soft laugh as she glanced up at the stars above them. “You came back to New York City for what reason? You forgot something at the theater or something and you just happened to want to come visit me?” She glanced at the drummer, raising an amused eyebrow as he grinned nervously.

“Actually, I just needed to get away from everything back home. With the funeral over with and with Greta and William fighting… everyone just needed to have time to themselves… and I decided the best thing for myself would to be to come back here.”

“Why here?” She asked.

He took a few moments to reply. How was he supposed to tell her how much he liked her? They had only known each other a little more than two weeks. She probably didn’t feel the same. He didn’t answer the question – something else caught his eye. “Hey, isn’t that the bridge from Spiderman 3?” He asked, pointing to the bridge. Nicky grinned. “Yeah, it is. Want to go walk on it just so we can say we did?”

“Sounds perfect,” The drummer said as the two took off in a jog towards the bridge, still locked at the arms. As they arrived, Nicky let go and did a few spins around. Andy stood back and took in her beauty. He had first noticed how she acted when they first met – it hadn’t been one of the awkward situations where she said ‘I’m sorry’ just because it was what she had to do… she had honestly meant it. He noticed that before he even took in her looks. Even if she hadn’t been beautiful, he was sure he’d still be as crazy for her as he was at the moment, standing there like a total goof.

“You never answered the question, by the way,” The nurse said as she stopped spinning and glanced at him with an innocent smirk across her face. Walking over next to the drummer of The Academy Is…, she leaned against the side of the bridge and glanced up at the stars. “Why did you choose New York City, even if it was where one of your good friends died just a few weeks ago?”

It was now or never, he decided.

“Because…” He took a deep breath. He had to say it now or he feared he would never build up the courage to say it. She deserved to know how he felt, and he couldn’t keep it in any longer. “Because I wanted to see you,” He said softly, not daring to look her in the eye. He simply just stared over at the other people walking as he continued. “Out of all the places I could have gone, I wanted to come back here and see you. I really missed you while I was there… and… and I really like you, Nicky… and I completely understand if you don’t feel the same. I’m sure there’s a guy here that you are crazy in love with, but I just thought you should know.”

Nicky didn’t reply, and The Butcher started to get worried. He glanced over, and was surprised to see a large smile on her face as she turned to look at him. “If you really want to know,” She said as she tilted her head, looking him straight in the eyes. “The guy I’m crazy about is standing right next to me,” She said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “And I wouldn’t want to have it any other way, Mr. Mrotek.”

With that, the drummer leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Grinning into the kiss, the nurse returned it and pulled him closer to her.

Out of everything bad, something good had to happen. In Andy Mrotek’s life, that good thing had just happened.

Even though Will and Bob didn’t know where Greta, she was in good arms at the moment… or… well… she was about to be.

“Keep the change,” She told the cab driver as she climbed out the back of the yellow taxi in front of a venue in downtown Chicago. Three buses were lined up in front, and it took Greta a moment to recognize her friend’s bus. However, she knew they weren’t in there… they’d be having sound check by now. So, she turned her attention to the three boys in bicycles that she recognized from before. One was driving a bike with the other sitting on the handle bars, and then a tall skinny boy was following behind them on a bike. The one sitting on the handle bars had red hair and was holding something in his hands… was that a gun?

“Come back here!” The red-haired boy yelled, aiming and firing at a creature that was racing along the sidewalk. “Sam, peddle faster!” He said, and the bass player replied, “I’m peddling as fast as I can, Brendan! Stop being so God damn demanding.”

“Will you two stop bickering?” The boy behind them said and Brendan laughed, “This has nothing to do with you, Evan. It’s a fight between me and Sam.” With that, he lifted the be-be gun again and fired towards the squirrel which was making a quick getaway. Sam, deciding to be the ass of the moment, and then jerked the bike to a stop, making Brendan fly forward. Landing on his side, he jumped up and watched Sam and Evan race off, both laughing. “Ass holes!” He called to his band mates.

Greta had walked over at this time, smiling weakly behind a pair of Dior glasses she had borrowed from Ashlee a few months ago. “I see you guys are having fun,” She commented, and Brendan glanced to the side. “They’re just being ass holes,” He said with a soft snicker. “I’ll get my revenge, though. The gun isn’t just to shoot squirrels, you know.” After a moment, he held out his hand. “I’m Brendan.”

“I already know you. We met two weeks back,” Greta said as she slid off the glasses. Brendan grinned as he soon recognized her then. “Hey Greta,” He said. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the big designer glasses covering your face.” Giving her a quick hug, he said, “C’mon, I’ll take you inside. They’re going to be thrilled to see you again… they’ve been asking all day whether you were going to come or not.”

Following the sixteen year old singer inside the venue and into the area where the concert was at, Greta smiled and told him she’d talk to him later and made her way backstage without anyone seeing her. As they were practicing ‘The Great Escape’ at the time, she took a spare microphone backstage and waited. Once they got to the chorus, she started belting the words – she didn’t care if it was off tune or anything. The music stopped and they started to look around to see where it was coming from. As she sang, she had made her way up the metal ladder and was now on the walk way above them.

“You guys should really pay more attention,” She told them with a soft laugh as she dropped a pen from the pocket of her jeans down onto the stage. Looking up, Martin grinned. “Come down here and give me a hug,” He said. She followed orders and within a few seconds found herself in the arms of four males giving her the most meaningful hugs she had ever had in her life so far.

For once, she felt like she belonged. For the first time since Jon’s death, she felt as if something was actually going right.

Alright, I know it’s short, but I have a bat mitzvah to go to. I’ll add more later in the next week!

Until then, xoxo.

ALL. HAIL. TRENT!

It’s an inside joke, everyone. It’s better off if you don’t ask. (:

When Blood & Youth Were Warmer

Chapter Five

Pete sighed and lowered his head to place his sunglasses over his eyes, and afterwards he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his black Skeleton Crew hoodie. It was the day after the funeral, and it was nearing six in the afternoon. Everyone had pretty much been silent today except for Darren trying to persuade Greta to eat something, which she refused to and then stormed out of the house and had run off somewhere to get her mind straight for a few hours. He had thought of going after his friend, but then decided that she would probably want to be alone for a few hours to clear her mind… and being her good friend, he would allow her that.

As he walked into a large venue area, surrounded by teenagers dancing and singing along to a band that was performing, he ducked in-between them towards the backstage area. Music flooded his ears, and he felt more at home now than he had since arriving back in Chicago. William was still mad at him and wouldn’t speak to him, and everyone else had been… well… not the same. However, after looking into a few things online as soon as he got computer access after the funeral, he spotted that a few of his friends were performing tomorrow. That’s when he decided he was going to go see them – it would help him get everything off of his mind, hopefully. That’s just what he needed for now.

Flashing the security guard his backstage pass, he was just entering the area when a scream came from behind him. “Oh my God, it’s Pete Wentz!” With that, he hurried inside the backstage area, trying to ignore the calls of random thirteen year old girls that had started to race over to him. Although he loved his fans, he just couldn’t face them at the moment. He wasn’t sure how long it was going to be till he could face them.

It was only moments after walking backstage and taking off his glasses that he heard a confused, surprised voice. He didn’t even need to turn to see who it belonged to, either. “Oh, Lord. Pete? What are you doing here?” He turned around to face a black haired girl staring bewildered at him, as if she were looking at a ghost. He smiled weakly and said in a soft tone, “Well, that’s not the greeting I was looking for when I got back here, but… it’s nice to see you, Alicia.” Alicia Simmons let a weak smile cross her face as she walked over and wrapped her arms around her friend’s neck, giving him a tight hug. He put his arms around her and returned the friendly favor, and she said, “I heard about Jon yesterday… I’m so sorry, Pete.”

“It’s ok,” He told her before pulling away, trying to keep the half hearted and warm smile across his face. “By chance do you know where the others are? I really want to see them… no offense. I mean, it’s great to see you and everything, Alicia, but…”

Alicia laughed. “No, don’t, Pete. I fully understand. C’mon,” She took his hand and started leading him to the buses. “They’re all on the bus playing X-Box 360; God help us.” That caused both of them to laugh as they arrived at the buses. “Do you want me to go in and you after?” She asked, and he smiled and nodded. “Sure.” The married woman flashed a grin at her friend and walked onto the bus. Soon there came a squeal of, “Alicia!” and then her laughing. “Mikey!” She replied in the same tone. Frank and Ray were yelling at each other about something that sounded like who got to play against Bob next, and Bob was simply laughing his head off at all of the things happening around him.

Pete entered the bus and said, “Frank, Ray, neither of you get to play against Bryar next. I do!” It seemed that no one really noticed that Pete had just climbed onto the bus except for Frank moaning, “But Ray told me I could!” After a moment, his eyes flashed from the TV to Pete. “Pete?” He asked, bewildered. At that, everyone turned their heads to look at the bassist, and Alicia clapped her hands together with a soft laugh. “Surprise!” She shouted, giving a weak grin.

Alicia was perched on Mikey’s lap, and the bassist’s arms were around her waist. The married man stared at him and said, “Pete! What’re you doing here?” Frank, at that time, had jumped up from his seat on the floor and launched himself at Pete, saying extremely excitedly, “You’re wearing the hoodie I helped design!” With that, he gave him a hug. Ray and Bob both stood up and gave him pats on the shoulder, and Pete was about to speak, but stopped. “Where’s Gee?” He asked, and Mikey replied, “He’s out grabbing Frank some red bull because Mr. Iero said that he would give Gerard five dollars if he did it.” “I was thirsty, ok?” Frank countered, which caused a laugh from everyone, and a half-hearted one from Pete.

“You look tired,” Pete noticed as he looked at Bob, who shrugged and replied that he was tired. “He’s been hanging out with his girlfriend all night doing God only knows that,” Alicia teased the drummer, who’s face went scarlet. “Alicia, I’ve told you a million times – Tracy is not my girlfriend?”

“Tracy?” Pete asked, raising an interested eyebrow as he glanced at the only girl on the bus, and she smirked. “Yeah, Tracy Phillips… you remember her, from the Helena video? Well, Gerard went to see her perform at the place she works – Blackout. They got to hang out afterwards and the two went out for coffee at this diner a few doors down from her work. He invited her on tour after he learned that she hadn’t left Beverly Hills in, like… three months and he wanted to give her an excuse to get away from there and have a good reason to miss work… and she’s been spending quite a lot of time hanging out with Mr. Bryar. Frank walked in on them almost getting ready to make out.” She burst into a soft fit of giggles, and Bob defended, “We were talking! We weren’t getting ready to kiss! Jesus!”

“So you guys were just talking really closely – like – this close?” Frank leaned over and pressed his nose against Bob’s and grinned as the drummer pushed him away.

“We weren’t that close. She was sitting a foot away from me!”

“You guys were getting ready to make out and you know it!” Frank yelled with a gleeful look across his face, and then another female voice entered the bus. “Who was getting ready to make out?” Everyone looked towards the door as Tracy made her way on. She was wearing a short, black skirt and a black tank top, which went along quite well to the black and white striped leggings she borrowed from Alicia, her black ballet flats, and her jet black wavy hair that cascaded to her mid-back. Bob went speechless, which caused Frank to fall to the floor laughing. Tracy waited for an answer as Ray then replied, “We were talking about when we were recording The Black Parade and how we hired a stripper for Bryar, and how Frank walked in on them getting ready to make out.”

Tracy decided to believe that, and nodded her head with one eyebrow raised as she watched the giggling Frank sprawled out on the floor. “Well, I’m going to take a nap. When the pizza you guys ordered gets here, have someone wake me up.” She grabbed her iPod off the counter and walked back to the bunk area, climbed into her lower bunk and put the curtain down. Even from the living room area, they could hear the very loud sounds of The Sounds blasting from her headphones.

Frank laughed as he sat up from his sprawled-out position. “Ray, you lied! Mr. I-Cannot-Tell-A-Lie told a lie! God, forbid!”

“Shut up,” Ray murmured with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“How’s Ashlee?” Alicia asked, tilting her head, and Pete smiled at the sound of his girlfriend’s name. “She’s doing wonderful. She wanted to make it to Chicago for the funeral, but her Dad was being a dick and wouldn’t let her take off time from making her CD… so she’s coming into town in a few days.” He sighed as the funeral happened to slip out of his mouth.

“We heard about Jon,” Bob said as he took a seat next to Mikey and Alicia, deciding to get off the topic of Tracy for the time being. “There was a story about it on Perez Hilton and Ray discovered it last night while reading his daily dose of gossip.” Ray blushed furiously and said, “I don’t read Perez Hilton all the time, guys. Krista didn’t have computer access and wanted me to check what was happening, alright?”

“We’re really sorry,” Mikey said, reaching over and patting Pete on the shoulder as he took a seat next to Mikey and his wife. “We know that you and Jon were really good friends… and we had actually planned on coming buy your house with Taking Back Sunday after we both got done performing… we wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

“I’m fine,” Pete said with a shrug. “I’m not doing wonderful, but I’m surviving… its Panic! At the Disco that I’m really worrying about…. All three of them and Greta.”

“Greta?” Bob’s head perked up slightly as Pete mentioned the nineteen year olds name. He had met her once when he had stopped by to see Fall Out Boy on the Black Clouds and Underdogs tour in Las Vegas, as she had been hanging out with Fall Out Boy on their bus as she played Dance Dance Revolution with Joe. “You mean the chick from The Hush Sound?” Frank asked, tilting his head slightly. “Why would you be worrying about her?”

Pete took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what all had happened that night, but he would tell them everything that he knew. It was only fair – they were good friends. “Jon and Spencer got into a fight, and Jon stormed off the tour bus right as Greta and William from The Academy Is… were coming for the after-performance party. Greta went after Jon and Will stayed with the rest of the band. The next thing we knew, it was three hours later and Patrick was about to head out with her band mates and she called us sobbing into the phone… and then a doctor took it from her and said we needed to come to the hospital.” He looked up to see everyone’s shocked glances.

“She told Patrick when they were flying back to Chicago that she and Jon had been crossing the street and the car hit both of them. She survived with a broken arm and cracked ribs and bruises and stitches all over her body… but those will heal. Emotionally, I’m not sure if she’s ever going to be the same… the paramedics told the doctors that when they got there, she was over Jon’s body, shaking him with her unbroken arm and screaming for him to wake up and not to do this to her. They couldn’t get her away from his body for a good five minutes once they got there because she was refusing to go with them.” Pete watched everyone’s faces have a blank look across it. None of them knew what to say, and Pete knew that. “She still has nightmares about it every night,” The bassist then said. “I don’t expect them to stop for a very long time.”

Everyone was silent. They didn’t know what to say. For the next thirty three seconds, no one said anything. Soon, the door was thrown open and a Red Bull flew through the air. Squealing, Frank jumped up and grabbed it before racing back to the bunk area to drink his Red Bull in peace. Gerard skipped onto the bus and glanced at everyone’s unmoving figures, and he raised an eyebrow. “What are you guys being so quiet for? Is there something on my face…?” He started, but then saw Pete. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly.

“Hey, Gerard,” Pete mumbled weakly, smiling at his friend. He soon got up, and the older singer threw his arms around the bass player. “Hey,” Gerard greeted him back. “How’re you holding up, bud? I tried to call you yesterday.”

“I’m alright. I could be better, but I definitely could be worse,” Pete shrugged slightly and pulled away from the hug. “You probably were the one that called when I was at the funeral. I left my phone at home and I didn’t call back because I didn’t recognize the number. You got a new phone, I’m guessing?”

Gerard nodded. “Yeah,” He said, letting out a sigh. They were silent, before Gerard said. “Let’s get out of here for a few minutes, Pete… Let’s go on a walk. We have a lot to talk about.”

“A lot,” Pete said with a half-hearted chuckle as the singer and the bass player made their way off of the bus, Gerard’s arm finding itself over Pete’s shoulders as she two made their way towards the set of the band performing at that moment. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

Boy, was it.

“Hey, beautiful,” Brendon said as he sat down next to Greta. For the past hour, he had been looking for her – he had searched the house, Darren’s house which was about three doors down from hers, both backyards, in both of the garages, and then finally it hit him. Darren had told him that there was a park nearby that Greta loved going to whenever she had time, so Mr. Urie had decided that was where he would look next. It was a two minute walk from the houses, and it seemed perfect… lots of trees, not a lot of people, and lots of flowers. The male singer smiled weakly and glanced over at the girl at his side, who wasn’t looking at him. She simply had her fingers interlocked with her other fingers, her knees pulled up to her chest, and her chin resting on top of her knees. “You want me to leave you alone?” He asked, and he watched her shake her head. “No thanks,” She told him as she sat up straight, and then leaned again the tree behind them.

They were silent once more. Brendon then looked down at his feet and told her, “Please don’t blame yourself for Jon, Greta. He wouldn’t want you to be blaming yourself for his death.”

“If only I had kept him in Toys ‘R Us for just… five more minutes,” Greta whispered, interrupting whatever Brendon was going to say. “He asked if we could go on the Ferris wheel one more time, and I told him that we needed to get to the bus and that you guys would be worrying about us if we didn’t. If only we had gone on the Ferris wheel one more time… then none of this would have happened. We’d be in…” She glanced down at her phone to see the date. “Tucson, Arizona, and we’d all probably be eating pizza and running around the venue like we always did before we performed.” Her voice was getting choked, but that didn’t stop her.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” She told Brendon. “I feel so guilty because of it. If we had only stayed in that store for a few more seconds, none of this would have happened… but I was so insistent on going back to the buses… and now, your band mate and our friend is dead.”

The two were silent. Greta leaned over and placed her head gently on Brendon’s shoulder, and Brendon draped an arm around her waist. The two sat in that position for a few minutes before Brendon whispered almost inaudibly, “What was the last thing that Jon said, Greta?”

Greta looked up at Brendon and noticed the many tears streaking down his face. With her hand wrapped in the white cast, she gently pushed the tears off his face and rested her head back on his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his waist as she tried to remember what the last thing Jon said was. “We were talking about Cassie… and how much he missed her,” She said, taking a deep breath before she continued. “Then we started talking about relationships in general… and he asked me if I liked William.” Brendon glanced down at her, and she nodded her head – she didn’t want to say it out loud. She hadn’t spoken to Beckett since they got into their fight after the funeral.

The Chicago native closed her eyes and she continued to speak. “We were holding hands and walking on the sidewalk. We were about three blocks away from the Nokia Theatre when we needed to cross the street. Even though it was red for not walk, there weren’t any cars coming, so we started to cross. Jon stopped me in the middle of the street and said “Thank you for everything”, and then I told him it was no problem… and then I saw the headlights flashing in his eyes and then the car hit us.” She lowered her head and the tears started coming once more.

She glanced up at Brendon to see that the tears were also running down his face, too. “I’m sorry, Brendon. I-I shouldn’t have told you all of that this soon,” She whispered and started to pull away, but Brendon kept his hand on her waist and pulled her closer. “No…” He said softly. “I needed to know that. I couldn’t go on for another day if I hadn’t known what he said.” Out of everyone in the band, Greta had known that Jon and Brendon had been two peas in a pod. Most people only saw Brendon as being best friends with Ryan… and although the two were good friends, they hadn’t been like Brendon and Jon. No one would ever be like how Brendon Urie and Jon Walker had been.

“So what’s everyone else up to?” Greta asked, closing her eyes as she felt Brendon’s head rest on the top of her own. “I know Pete ran off to Projekt Revolution to see My Chemical Romance and Darren is off with his girlfriend… but where’s everyone else?”

“Mike, Michael and Adam are all off grabbing something to eat a few minutes before I left,” Brendon murmured, taking a deep breath as he tried to think of where everyone was. “William is hanging out with Ryan this afternoon – they decided to go talk to Jon’s mom for a few hours. Spencer… I think he’s with Andy and Joe for the day. Patrick is working on some stuff in his room. I’m here with you, of course.” He chuckled at his lame attempt of a joke. “Bob and Chris are taking some time off and going to get their monthly pedicures.” He felt Greta’s slight shake of the shoulders and he grinned weakly. “C’mon, Greta, of course you knew that they got pedicures; don’t hide it.”

Greta smiled and opened her eyes. For the first time since Jon had died, she felt happy. Being with Brendon – the man who was the closest thing to an older brother besides Garrett – always made her happy. But there was one other person that made her experience that same happiness, but he wasn’t there right now. She didn’t want to see him for a while. She knew she wasn’t in love with Brendon… he was just a good friend. With Will, though… she’d had these feelings of happiness and that he wouldn’t care of whatever she did since they toured in the UK with his band and Fall Out Boy right after she had graduated high school.

“Where’s The Butcher?” The nineteen year old then asked, and Brendon shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“He was heading to the airport a few hours ago. He said there was something he needed to do.” Brendon replied. “For now, let’s just sit here, alright? Let’s not say anything. Let’s just… sit.”

That’s exactly what they did. Sure, people passed them as they sat under that tree, but neither of them cared at all. They just needed some quiet from all of the drama – and that’s exactly what they got.

The Butcher, in mean time, had other plans.

Sure, one of his best friend’s was dead… but wasn’t that the same best friend who told him to go after what he wanted? The Butcher knew that’s what Jon would have wanted him to do, even in this type of occasion where it felt the world was turned against you. He knew Jon would have been disappointed if he hadn’t gone after what he wanted. Take for example when Jon was filming TAI TV. He had sat down when the drummer was having a fight with his girlfriend, and took him by the shoulders and told him, “If you like her, go after her. If you don’t, then leave it and let it be.”

There was no way he was going to let this be. Not now.

He sat in the back of a taxi, fingering a key that Mrs. Walker had given him before he left. She had told him Jon left it in his will for Andy – with no letter or anything of what its purpose was or what it was suppose to open. The drummer was sure he’d just have to figure that out himself. He would do that… as soon as he got home. Now there was something else on his mind. He placed it in his pocket and glanced out the window at the familiar surroundings.

“Here, keep the change,” He told the cab driver as he got out of the back of the cab to face the white building that the bus had swerved into the parking lot only a week before. He had called earlier and asked when Nicky got off work, and he was told at five. So, he ran to the nearest store, grabbed a few flowers, and then got a new cab and made his way to the hospital. So there he was, walking across the street towards the hospital.

As he entered, he glanced around for any sight of the nurse. He went up to the desk and coughed slightly before leaning down and asking softly, “Hey there, I’m looking for a Ms. Nicky Shindler. Do you know where I could find her?”

“She’s in the nurse’s lounge with someone,” The girl said, glancing up and smiling as she saw the flowers. “Are you her boyfriend or something?” She teased. The drummer laughed and said, “Who knows? Maybe I will be.” With that, he gave a wave and was about to head off… but then stopped and turned to look back at her. “Where would the nurse’s lounge be?” He asked sheepishly, and the girl laughed. “Go down the hallway and it’s the door to the left of the elevator,” She told him, and he nodded and made his way down the hall.

The door was open when he got there. He grinned and peered in to look for the nurse, and spotted her sitting at a table. Across from her sat a male figure and they were reaching over the table and holding onto each other’s hands. There was a smile across each of their faces, and they looked so happy… The Butcher felt like something dropped into his stomach. He was about to back away when the male spotted him. “Hey Nicky,” He said. “There’s a guy in the doorway.”

Nicky turned just as Andy was leaving. Her eyes widened and she jumped from the table, racing after him. “Andy?” She called as she ran into the hallway, watching his leaving figure. “Andy, what’re you doing here?” She asked as she took off in a jog after him. She soon reached him and jumped in front of him, taking him by the shoulders… just as Jon had done during their conversation on the bus.

“I thought you were in Chicago,” She said breathlessly. The one thing he noticed was she still had the Clandestine bat around her neck, and her clear nose ring was still in. She had her hair in a ponytail and the same color eyes were shining. She was wearing no make up – and the drummer knew how hard it was for some girls to do that. “I was, but I came back for a few days…” He said quietly. “Look, I’ll leave you and whoever that was alone,” He tried to pull away, but she kept her grip. A grin spread across her face. “Lord, Andy,” She said, trying not to laugh. “You think that’s my boyfriend, don’t you?”

“You guys were holding hands,” Andy said quietly. “That’s enough clues for me.” Nicky, at that point, couldn’t help but laugh. “Andy, that’s my brother,” She told him. “He’s in town from Beverly Hills for the week and he came to say hello before he goes out to dinner with his fiancée.” She paused. “You want proof that he’s my brother?” Before Andy could speak, she continued. “His name is Clark Shindler. He’s thirty years old and he’s a choreographer and resides in Beverly Hills. He’s engaged to a twenty seven year old girl in New York City, who’s a dancer here, named Georgia Kingston. They met during one of Ryan’s classes two years back.” She grinned, still trying to stop herself from laughing. Andy, however, was now insanely blushing.

“Now I feel really stupid,” He told her, causing her to laugh again as she wrapped her arms around his neck as she gave him a hug.

“Don’t be,” She told him after the hug and as she pulled away. Andy glanced down at the dozen lilies he had picked up at the market and handed them to her. “I, um… I got these for you,” He murmured, shuffling his feet as she grinned and took the flowers. “You’re such a romantic,” She teased, before leaning forward and kissing his cheek. He felt like he was about to fall over at that point. “How long are you in town?” She asked, tilting her head as she waited for the rock star to respond. “Four days,” He told her, and she smiled. “That’s plenty of time for us to hang out, then.”

“C’mon,” The nurse said, taking his hand. “I want you to meet Clark. After that, we’re going out for Thai food – no exceptions.”

Andy smiled as she took him back to meet her brother. Things were actually going pretty well. Hopefully it would stay like this.

“You can’t be serious, Mrs. Walker,” William said, his eyes widened as he looked down at the sheet of paper. Jon’s mother sighed and shook her head. “He left that for you in his will. He wanted you to have it, so I’m respecting his wishes. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to go see if Ryan is alright.” Ryan had gone up to Jon’s room about ten minutes before, and even two stories down; they could hear his growing sobs. She started to walk up the stairs, and William took a seat on a nearby chair as he stared at the paper.

Jon had left Will his apartment at Regents Park – a very homey and expensive luxury apartment building in downtown Chicago. Not only that, but he left it for him to share with one person.

Greta.

when i got news that she had died, i didn't know what to do. i had danced with her for three years and she had been such a great girl and a wonderful friend. for two days, i refused to do anything but sit on my cousin's couch and stare blankly in front of me. it never really hit me until today that karen was gone. i miss her, yet i know she's in a much wonderful place. i'm not very religious, but when it comes to karen... i know she's in heaven and she's watching everyone who cared for her, dying for them to know that she's happy now. nothing can hurt her anymore. nothing.

her funeral was today, and i went with my friend and her mother. during the whole ceremony, i was in tears. it hit me then that she was gone, and it also hit me that you don't know when someone is going to die. you think that you're going to live and be old and die in your sleep, but that's not always the case. tons of people you know will die before they even reach the age of 20. isaac, adam, karen, sam, ella.. all of them died so early and they were the most amazing people in the world. tons of people miss them, and i can fully understand. i've lost a lot of people, but i've only grown from it. my family and my friends have passed away, yet i've only become a stronger person from it all.

at the funeral, karen's sister katie read karen's validvictorian speech from 2006. one line stuck out at me, and that was this: "I decided that the rain stood for change or difficulty in our lives; the things that make us stronger even though we do not always appreciate them while they are happening." you appreciate so much - the clothing on your back, the house you live in, yet you never stop to think 'is this the last thing i'm going to say to this person? what if something happens and those were my last words?'. not many people think that, and they never get a chance to before they pass away.

now i sit here after finishing smoking a cigarette, and i await my friend's arrival so we can go swimming outside since it is such a wonderful day outside. the sun if shining, the birds are chirping, and i am home alone until late tonight. so as you read this, please think. what was the last thing you said to your mom, or your dad, or your best friend or anyone you've spoken to. if something happened to you, would you really want that to be the last thing you said to them?

think about it. some people feel the rain, and others just get wet. i feel the rain. what about you?

xoxo. kia.

When Blood & Youth Were Warmer

Chapter Four

“Brendon, please,” Pete groaned as he stood outside a white door. They were currently in Darren’s house, and standing outside Darren’s room as the drummer had offered that people could room there if they wanted instead of staying in a hotel. “Please come out of Darren’s room. You’ve been in there for a day and you need to eat or drink or… or something! Brendon, please come out.”

There was no reply, and Pete knocked loudly once more. “Brendon, at least talk to me! You don’t have to come out, alright? But… we would all really like to see you. Will you just please come out?” With no response, he gave a loud, annoyed sigh. “Brendon Urie!”

“I’m fine,” Came the muffled reply inside the door. Standing with his elbows perched on the window sill, Brendon sighed as he took a deep breath of fresh air. His hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot – he hadn’t slept since waking up in the hospital the morning after they had found out Jon had died. He didn’t want to see anyone right now… he didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

“You’re just saying that,” A voice came from a few feet away. Brendon jumped and looked over to the side, seeing a very familiar male sitting on the roof. His eyes were scanning the neighborhood, a frown perched across his face. His hair was slightly covering his eyes, and he looked like a twig in his oversized hoodie and large grey sweatpants.  Brendon sighed softly. “Are you going to tell me how you ended up getting on the roof, Bob?”

Robert Morris glanced over at Brendon and smiled weakly. “I live a mile away. After the band got together, I use to come over to Darren’s house all the time and I know where he keeps everything.” He paused, looking out at the neighborhood once more, before watching a black Honda Civic drive by. Then he added, “Including where he keeps all of his Blender magazines and the ladder.”

The two remained silent for a few moments, except for Pete’s continuous knocking on the door. Then, Bob spoke again. “You want to come join me?” Brendon gave a sigh and climbed out the window, holding onto it tightly as he tried to catch his balance. Slowly, he made his way over on the inverted roof towards the other singer, who held out a hand. Brendon held onto the older male’s wrist, before carefully sitting down next to him and letting go.

“You seem to be holding up ok.” Brendon said. It wasn’t a question, just a statement, as he noticed that the older singer didn’t look upset at all. Bob chuckled softly and glanced over at the Las Vegas native. “It’s times like this I’m glad that Greta introduced me to makeup,” He told the other boy softly. Brendon then noticed how bloodshot his eyes were, too… not just his own. “She gave me some concealer and foundation a few months ago for ‘stage presence’,” Bob said with a shrug. “I never really used it until I was how puffy my eyes got after I got upset.”

They went silent, and both could faintly hear the knocking of Pete on Darren’s door. They didn’t have to say anything, for they both knew what the other was thinking about. It was what everyone was thinking about the past few days.

After the silence, Bob spoke. He was sick of not saying anything – and he knew Brendon needed to talk. Although the singer hadn’t said it, his body language was saying that he just wanted to get out of there. Being a friend, and the person who caused Brendon a black eye when they were first on tour together, Bob felt that he needed to do this for Brendon.

“Hey,” He said softly, causing the now tearing-up younger singer to look at him. “There’s a place downtown where you can get a killer bean and cheese burrito… plus… do you remember on the tour bus, those drinks we would always have? Jarritos? They have those there. Why don’t we go get something to drink and then just drive around town for a while? It’s better than sitting here doing nothing.”

Brendon remained silent, before saying in an almost inaudible tone, “Only if you drive, and if you pay.”

Bob gave a sigh and a weak smile crossed his face. Hey, at least he was getting Brendon something to eat and drink. That was better than Pete was doing, as the bass player was still knocking on the door, and The Hush Sound’s male singer thought he also heard Chris speaking in-between knocks. “Let’s go, then,” He said softly, sliding down the roof and stopping at the edge so he could put his foot on the ladder. He looked up at Brendon as he started his decent down the ladder, and paused as he didn’t see the singer moving.

“Brends?” He asked, causing the singer to slowly look down and nod, sliding down and getting onto the ladder. The twenty-two year old singer waited at the bottom for Brendon, who landed on his feet after jumping the last few steps. After a few, silent moments of standing there, Bob pulled Brendon in for a tight hug.

Brendon felt the tears sliding down his face, and he did nothing to stop it. Bob knew instantly that Brendon had been holding all of this in since the hospital, and only tightened the hug. He needed for Brendon to know that he was always going to be there no matter what happened. He didn’t understand why it took people so long to find that out, even when people told them that they would be there. Maybe, sometimes in the aftershock of death, you never really thought that you’d want to talk about it. Brendon was one of those people who wouldn’t admit that he needed to talk about something.

Crying was the next best thing in Bob’s mind. You let everything out without saying a word.

As Greta opened her eyes, she soon realized that she wasn’t where she had been earlier.

Earlier, she had been comfortably perched inside the private jet that Patrick had got for the two to fly back to Chicago. As the nineteen year old opened her eyes, she knew she was no longer on a plane – but the place she had left.

 She was standing on the sidewalk of a street in New York City again, except no one else was there. Turning around, her eyes wandered for any living being – there were no cars, no people… only her, surrounded by the flashing lights of Times Square. “Hello?” She called, only to hear her echo. She glanced down at her arm, no longer wrapped in its cast. She felt her head, not feeling any disturbance would indicate stitches etched on her forehead. “What’s going on?” She asked as she looked up to see herself in front of the large Toys R Us… right where the accident had happened.

“No,” She told herself as she looked around. Still, no one was there, and no traffic was there either. She took a step out onto the street and took a deep breath. Still no cars. Still no people. The nineteen year old walked out into the street, turning in a circle as she looked around. “Hello?” She called. “Is anyone here?”

No one responded, and she took a breath of relief. However, she then felt a tap on the shoulder and she whirled around. At the sight of Jon behind her, she screamed. He looked like the same old Jon – not defeated by death; his cheeks rosy and the start of a smile spreading across his face.

“Greta,” He said her name, and Greta stared at him. “Jon,” She said his name holding out a shaky hand to place on his cheek. As she did, the warmth from his face spread into her hand, and at the warmth she got from him, she decided this was no dream. This was the true thing. She was awake! All of that had to have been a dream! Jon was alive!

“Jon!” She cried, wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t return the favor there, only stood there while Greta gave him multiple hugs, not letting go until a few seconds later, staring into his eyes. “I had the worst dream ever, Jon,” The nineteen year old cried, shaking her head. “I dreamed that you got hit by a car and you died, but that’s not true! You’re here and you’re not dead.” She had glanced to the side as she spoke, but when she looked back at him, there was a grin spread across his face. He never grinned unless he wanted to say something. “What?” She asked with a nervous laugh, and he only shook his head.

“Greta,” He told her softly – his voice seemed to change within those few seconds. “That was no dream.”

Greta pulled away from him, staring at him. “What are you saying? Am I dead? Is this Heaven?” She turned around, glancing around, and not looking at Jon as she heard his voice drift through her ears. “Oh, no. This isn’t Heaven at all. This is the back of your mind, and you believe this is actually happening… when all of this, Ms. Salpeter, is actually quite fictional. This isn’t happening at all. You’re alive, as I am not.”

“So I’m dreaming.” She stated, still not looking at him.

“You might be. Or, you might be in a coma in the hospital. I don’t know, as I can’t really tell you at the moment, now can I?” Jon asked with a soft laugh escaping his lips. A tingle went up Greta’s spine. Was this the last time she was going to hear him laugh? The last time she was going to hear him speak? He was dead. She wasn’t. How was this even happening? She always thought communication with the dead wasn’t possible.

“Why is this happening?” She asked, and Jon replied, “You really think I know, Greta?” After a moment of silence, she turned to face him. “I want to go with you… wherever you’re going to,” She told him, a slight fierceness in her voice. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go with you, Jon.”

“No can do, Princess,” He told her, his voice soft and a small smile across his face. “Why?” She asked, tears running down her face as she took a step closer to him. “Why can’t I go with you?!”

“Because it’s not your time yet.”

“And it was yours?” She screamed at him. “You’re twenty two, Jon! It wasn’t your time to die! No one deserves to die at that age! You had so much to live for! Why was it your time? Why couldn’t it have been someone else?” She had started to speak, but she saw the beginnings of cuts running deep into his face. With each given second, they grew wider and more blood was shown. Greta almost gagged and took a step away from him, eyes widened.

“It was my time,” He told her, a smile still on his face. Greta’s eyes widened with tears as she saw fresh blood running down his face now. She took a step forward and tried to wipe it off and got blood smeared across his hands – but none of it moved on his face. It kept pouring down his cheeks and his forehead and his chin, as if nothing was wiping it or stopping it. “Jon!” She cried out. “Stop this!”

“You’ll understand someday. It’s too soon now, but you’ll be able to understand why it was my time someday,” He told her, his voice deep and sounding clogged. Blood ran from the sides of his mouth, and she could see the blood seeping through his shirt. “Jon,” She cried, warm tears streaming down her face. “Don’t do this. Take me with you. I don’t want to be here anymore. Please, Jon, please!”

Now, red liquid was in his tear ducts, and running down his cheeks from there. He looked horrifying – like something you would see in a horror movie – unrated version. Greta continued to cry as she begged for him to take her wherever she was going. Finally, he whispered, “Turn around.”

“No!” She screamed. “Please, Jon, only if you agree to take me with you. I don’t want to be alive if you aren’t.”

He watched her, and she felt sick to her stomach to see the blood all over him. It was just like she had seen him laying on the ground right after the accident. “Turn around,” He said again, and Greta bit her lip and turned.

Headlights blinded her. She heard screaming and felt a hard pressure hit her stomach – she knew instantly it was herself screaming and she was feeling the sensation of a car hitting her… again. She felt herself thrashing, and calling out to Jon. The white light was blinding her – where was Jon? Why wasn’t she with him?

The next thing she knew, her eyes were thrown open and she still felt herself thrashing around. The screams of Jon’s name were still sounding in her ears, mixed with choked sobs escaping her lips. However, she felt something covering her – sheets? She heard the door slam open and felt someone holding onto her shoulders. “Someone get in here! I need help!” She heard a familiar voice yell – was that Joe? – the nineteen year old then heard the thumps of footsteps racing down the hallway… more than one pair.

She heard shouts of her name, but she tried to ignore them. Tears were running down her face as she let out continuous sobs; she tried to sit up but two pairs of hands were keeping her down.

“Where am I? Where’s Jon?” She screamed, trying to calm down as she heard a comforting voice run through her mind… Darren. “You’re home, Greta. You’re in your bed back in Chicago.” No one dared answer about Jon though. She knew that all of that – everything that had just happened – had been a dream. No, not a dream… a nightmare.

“I saw him,” She sobbed, feeling the pain run through her stomach from the ribs. However, that only made her sobs grow harder, which caused it to hurt more. “He spoke to me. He wouldn’t take me with him. He wouldn’t let me go to Heaven with him.” Closing her eyes and feeling the sobs grow as hysterical as they had been after seeing his body laying on the ground in Times Square; she lay in her bed wondering what he had meant. How had it been his time and not hers?

“Greta…” Another voice filled her ears. She instantly recognized it as Patrick’s soft, soulful voice. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and Greta sat up, ignoring the pain from her ribs, instantly wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder. “He wouldn’t let me go with him,” She cried. “I asked him to take me with him and he wouldn’t let me.”

Patrick remained silent, his arms wrapped around the girl that could have been as close as him to be a sister, but a thought shot through his head as he held her in his arms.

What if Greta was supposed to have died and not Jon?

The church was so crowded for Jon’s funeral; some people had to stand in the back as there was no sitting room. The first three rows were reserved for family, and Jon’s mother and brothers had made it clear that they wanted the bands that had been on tour with their brother and son when this had happened to be sitting with the family. Their reasoning was that when he wasn’t home, those people were his family… and that it was only right that they got to sit with his relatives.

Walking out of the side room reserved for the family, Brendon, Ryan and Spencer slowly walked through and made their way near the front of the church. All of them wore matching black suits with a red rubber band wrapped around their left wrist… a little sign of remembrance. A stubble was appearing across all of their faces, as none of them had bothered shaving the past five days since the accident. The band members wanted to see if they saw anyone – plus, Jon’s casket was back there… and being a pall bearer, they had to help carry their best friend into the chapel. The others – Andy, Tom Conrad, and Pete – were already out there greeting people as they walked in. Spencer walked with his head low and tears running down his face, but Brendon and Ryan did nothing to comfort him. The drummer had been like this since Jon died – the two had got into a fight before he died, and Spencer hadn’t got the chance to tell him that he was sorry. Now, it was too late. Jon was dead and Spencer would never get the chance until he, himself, were dead.

“The funeral starts in five minutes,” One of Jon’s cousins told them as they walked back towards where Jon’s body was. However, Spencer stopped as he saw someone, causing Ryan and Brendon to also stop. “What is it?” Brendon asked the drummer, who’s eyes were burning into a blonde female as she walked through, her arm around an older male’s own arm. She wore a black skirt and a black shirt, her hair down and straight. Her face was red, and she was taking deep breaths, as if trying to catch her breath. They all recognized her within an instant…

Cassie.

“Why is she here?” Spencer spat quietly. “She doesn’t deserve to be here.” Ryan took a step forward to stand next to Spencer. “Spence, she was his girlfriend for years. I think she has a right to be here,” He told his best friend, who rolled his eyes and turned to look at his taller, older friend.

“She’s the reason Jon’s dead, Ryan,” He said, such harshness in his voice that it surprised the guitarist. However, he kept a look of anger across his face and a monotone voice as he hissed, “Cassie’s not the one to blame for Jon’s death, Spencer. That’s someone else’s job.”

Spencer knew what that meant, and his eyes widened and watered. He knew what that meant, and he felt his stomach drop and feel as if he was about to be sick. Brendon was watching this, his eyes widened slightly and also tearing up, but turned to walk over to Pete, who was staring out a window nearby.

“Y-You’re saying that Jon dying was my fault, aren’t you?” Spencer whispered. Ryan didn’t respond. A few tears ran down the nineteen year olds face as he said, “You’re saying that J-J-Jon died because of me.” Ryan didn’t reply, only turned and walked after Brendon.

“Don’t walk away from me,” Spencer whispered, but it was so inaudible he didn’t even hear himself speak. With that, he buried his face into his hands.

What if Ryan was right? What if Jon was dead because of their fight? If they hadn’t gotten into that fight, Jon wouldn’t have left the bus… Jon wouldn’t have gone and Greta wouldn’t have gone after him. With that hitting him, he felt himself say “Oh, God…” into his hands as he continued to cry.

Meanwhile, Mr. Thomas Conrad was staring out at the hearse carrying Jon’s body. He and Andy had been the closest to their old friend, and when someone had called from a restricted number, he didn’t know what to expect… especially this.

When Tom had entered his apartment, he wasn’t surprised to hear the phone ringing. He had been getting a lot of calls about different gigs to be playing with his new band, but as he glanced at the caller ID, he didn’t recognized the number. As a matter of fact, it was labeled as a restricted number.

Should he pick it up? He debated for a few seconds, before picking up the phone and putting the earpiece up to his ear. “Hello?” He asked, his voice slightly husky and gone from last night’s late partying in town. There was no reply for a few seconds, only someone taking shot, deep breaths.

“Hello?” He repeated again, and finally, a voice he recognized from anywhere spoke. “Tom, please don’t hang up.” He sat down in a nearby chair, sighing as he crossed his legs. Although he wasn’t on very friendly terms with the band, he could never pass up an opportunity to speak that one band member he had been friends with for such a long time. “What do you want, Mike?”

Michael Carden took no time to take a breath or to prepare himself for Tom’s reaction as he sat behind his house in Chicago. It was dark out and he was watching a few stars up in the sky, imagining that Heaven was up there and that Jon was looking down at him at the moment… but he didn’t know what to believe. The guitarist sighed… but told him why he had called. “Jon’s dead, Tom. He got hit by a car three days ago after a show in New York City, and he died.”

Tom sat there, his eyes widened and he felt himself sliding into shock. That couldn’t be – he had talked to Jon right before the New York City show. He had seemed so happy and carefree – how could he be dead? Not Jon. It had to be a practical joke or something. “…What?” He whispered. He and Jon had been such good friends with the bassist had been with The Academy Is… before moving onto Panic! At the Disco, and they had kept in touch all the time… but there was no way he could be dead.

“It’s true, Tom,” Mike said, leaning against the base of the tree. “I’m calling on behalf of Mrs. Walker; actually… she wants you to be at the funeral. She wants you to be a pall bearer… she…” He stopped, feeling himself choking up. He swallowed the tears and continued his sentence. “She said it’s what Jon would want.”

Tom felt a lone tear slide down his face. “I’ll give her a call,” He whispered, and as he heard the phone shift on the other line, he quickly said, “Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Michael was silent for a few seconds, before replying, “You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Why did it have to be Jon?” Tom asked as he saw Andy walk up next to him and stop, also glancing out at the long car. “Why did it have to be Jon? Why couldn’t it have been someone else?” “I don’t know,” Andy replied, a hand placed on the surface of the glass as he glanced outside. “I’m glad you’re here, Tom,” The drummer then told the ex-member of The Academy Is.

Tom glanced towards the ground and whispered, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

At that, the clicking behind them alerted them that the doors were opening for them to go outside the get the casket. Watching Brendon, Ryan, Pete and Spencer walk in a procession in front of them, the two men linked hands and squeezed hard as they followed the four other men outside to get the casket.

As they carried it inside, a soft ballad was playing in the air. Many people were in silent tears, some crying into their tissues and some into their open palms. From the second row, standing next to Jon’s mother, Greta looked behind her shoulder, staring at some of the people that were here. Why were they crying? They barely knew Jon. They had met him once or twice. They didn’t know what his middle name was, or what his favorite color was, or what his favorite food was or what was the most fun thing to do on tour or… or anything. They didn’t know anything about him, yet they were in tears to see his casket pass them.

The nineteen year old female turned her head and looked towards the floor, feeling Mrs. Walker gently hold onto her hand. Interlocking her fingers with her friend’s mother, the pianist and singer glanced up with teary eyes as the casket was set on a metal stool. The preacher began his sermon, and everyone was seated, but she could still hear the cries of people behind her. Silent tears ran down her face but she made no effort to wipe them. She was sitting on the end of the isle; Mrs. Walker was sitting next to her, and then Jon’s two older brothers. Then there were Ryan, Brendon and Spencer, all in their own silent tears. Next to them were Pete and Patrick, neither in tears but were soon to be.

The next row contained everyone else that had been on tour – the members of The Academy Is, plus Tom Conrad, who was sitting in between Andy and Mike Carden, and then her own band… Bob, Chris and Darren were all holding onto each others hands, their glances towards the floor. The two remaining members of Fall Out Boy sat next to them, their eyes glued onto Jon’s casket.

The service lasted for an hour. A few people got up to speak about Jon – family members, childhood friends… it had all been so wonderful, and so sad at the same time. Greta was in tears the whole time, ignoring the fact William was behind her with one hand on her shoulder, rubbing it to comfort her. There was no burial afterwards – that was reserved for family and tour mates, and that was to be in a few hours when everyone had left. Once the service was over, everyone went to go slightly enjoy the lunch in one of the many other rooms in the church. Everyone left except for a few people, who wanted to pay their last respects to Jon. They soon left, and the chapel went silent and dark. His casket remained in there. Inside the casket was the body of their best friend – the man that had always been there for them. Everyone still had such a hard time imaging that he was actually gone.

After about ten minutes, someone can in and removed the casket to be placed back into the hearse. He was moving onto his final resting place. Watching his casket being moved was Jon, himself, as his figure stood on the crystal chandelier above the chapel and where everyone had been sitting. It had been such a wonderful service in his opinion, but to see everyone speaking made him sad. However, he smiled slightly. He was in eternal happiness now, and nothing could be better than that. Raising his head, he soon disappeared from sight forever.

And you say there’s no such things as ghosts, eh?

As soon as he had noticed Greta missing, William had left the room where all the food was and ran around the church trying to find her. She was in despair – he could tell that easily from the funeral. What if she tried to hurt herself? What if she had fallen and couldn’t get up?

She’s not an old grandma, Will, his mind told him. However, that only caused him to worry more. She was weak and she was fragile at the moment - anyone could hurt her. Anything could hurt her. He wasn’t about to let something like that happen. As he made his way into the main hallway, he saw a few people sitting in silence on the many chairs set up, but in the back of his mind, heard a piano playing.

That had to be Greta.

Screw the fact that her arm was broken. That wasn’t about to stop her from playing the piano. It was her getaway – her place where she felt as if nothing could tear her. He knew that if he followed it that it would lead him to her… so that’s what he did.

As he stood in the main doors of the chapel, he saw a dim light above the stage, and saw a figure playing the piano slowly. He knew it was Greta, as he saw the white cast on her arm slightly reflecting from the light above it. He didn’t recognize the song, as he had never heard it before… but the piano and her voice seemed to squeeze his insides as he started to get closer to her.

Ignoring the fact her arm was broken; Greta knew she could still play. Her fingers could still wiggle as they weren’t inside the cast, and she wanted to play the piano. She had learned the piece a year ago when Tim had died, but she had never worked on it since then… but all of a sudden as she had sat down, she had started playing it and singing. She wasn’t the biggest fan of Avril Lavigne, but the song seemed to fit in her mind.

Her fingers slid against the keys and she felt tears running down her face. They were tears of sadness, and of hope, and of everything in between. Her hair was covering her tear-stained face, and her lip was quivering slightly as she sang.

“I hope you can hear me,” She sang, closing her eyes as she continued. “’Cause I remember it clearly… the day… you… slipped away… was the day… I found it won’t be the same…oh…” The song was so beautiful, and she silently thanked Avril in her mind for having conducted such a song. Her fingers now pounded against the keys as she sang louder and more fiercely, but the only increased the pain in her stomach from her ribs. “I’ve had my wake up, won’t you wake up? I keep asking why…” She started to sing more, but ended up stopping, her head lowered to rest against the keys as her shoulders shook from her cries.

William took a step forward and rested his elbows against the top of the grand piano. “Greta,” He said, causing her to jump to her feet and stare at him. After a moment, she said in a shaky voice, “I told Chris to tell you where I was.” “He said he didn’t know where you were,” William replied softly. Greta turned to look away from him, wiping the tears off of her face.

“Could I be alone for a while?” She asked, and William took a step forward. “Greta, we all think it’s the best thing if you’re not alone… we’re worried that…”

“You guys were worried that I might do something to myself?” Greta asked softly. “I’m not that stupid, William. I wouldn’t purposely hurt myself. Why would you guys even think that I would do that? Don’t you trust me?” She turned to look at him as she straightened out her skirt with her non-broken arm. She turned around again and sighed as William responded. “Some people do things they don’t mean when they’re upset, Greta… it’s a part of loss.” As she was silent, he decided to speak again.

“Greta, I know how you feel,” He started, but with a sarcastic laugh, Greta turned around and stared at him.

“Oh, you know how I feel, now don’t you?” She asked him, her voice slightly fierce as she spoke to her best friend. “That’s what you’d like to think, now wouldn’t you? You’d love to know what I’m going through. You want to know something, Will?” She took a step towards him and glanced up at the extremely tall male, as she was only a mere 5’4”. “You have no idea. You’ve never had anyone important to you die. You’ve never had any of your best friends die except until now. You’ve never seen someone die. And now, you have the nerve to tell me that you know how I feel? No. You really don’t know how I feel. I watched my best friend get hit by a car – I saw his body on the ground and I was covered in his blood after I broke free of everyone and ran over to him. I was shaking him and trying to wake him up and screaming at him. You’ve never experienced that, William, so don’t you ever dare tell me you know how I feel.”

“Greta,” He told her sharply, but she continued.

“In the past two and a half years, I have lost three of the most important people in my life. Eileen and Tim... And... and Jon...” She started crying again, before yelling at him, “You’ve never had someone you cared about more than yourself die, William. You never want to go through that. Me? I’ve gone through that three times within the past few years. My best friend, my first boyfriend, and my brother – they’re all dead!” Greta continued to cry, the tears running down her face at a drastic pace.

“Greta, you need to settle down,” William told her as he took a step closer, but she pushed him away. “You’ve never lost someone you loved, Will! You’ve never lost someone that important to you! So don’t give me that bull-shit that you know how I feel, because you don’t!” She continued to cry, biting her lip gently to stop her sobs from escaping her lips.

William didn’t know why he wasn’t feeling anything. He wasn’t sad or anything to see Greta crying. Finally, in an accusing whisper in a monotone voice, he said, “You were in love with Jon, weren’t you?”

Greta felt her tears grow faster as they raced down her face. What was she suppose to say? No, I’m in love with you? That wasn’t a possibility. That might ruin their friendship, and she wasn’t going to take that chance. How dare he accuse her of loving Jon?! Yes, as a brother, but nothing more. Was he blind to see that he was the one she was in love with? “Yes,” She told him softly, her eyes burning into the fellow singer’s. “I was in love with Jon… but it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone. And now, so am I. Goodbye, William.” With that, she walked past him, and William watched her as she walked out of the chapel.

Now, he partially understood what she had meant when she said he had never experienced losing someone that he had loved.

But now, he was able to say that he had the experience. Although she wasn’t dead, he was one hundred percent sure that she was gone. His head dropped and his eyes burned into the floor with tears wanting to escape.

He had lost her. He had finally lost the girl he was in love with.

Ooc – Comment, please!

When Blood & Youth Were Warmer

Chapter Three

“Mrs. Walker, I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” A male in a white trench coat said to a 5’3” woman as she stood there, her hands and knees shaking as she sobbed into her hands. She was standing inside one of the doctor’s offices, after flying out to New York City as soon as she could after hearing that her son had been involved in an accident. Through the glass windows, Andy ‘The Butcher’ Mrotek watched her emotions change from hopeful to mournful within a matter of one point seven seconds.

He watched her cry from his seat in the hallway across from the office. He hated to see people cry, but would could he possibly do right now? He couldn’t just run into the office, wrap his arms around his friend’s mother and let her cry on his shoulder. He didn’t think that would be very… right at the moment, no matter how much he wanted to do it. Jon had been one of the only things keeping Mrs. Walker going, and everyone knew that… but now Jon wasn’t there anymore.

Jon was dead. His good friend was dead, and Andy hadn’t got the chance to say goodbye… until last night.

It had been while everyone was asleep. Everyone had lain out on the floor or on the couch after crying themselves to sleep. Andy, however, couldn’t sleep. He was sitting in the waiting room with everyone else who wasn’t a part of the band – for everyone else who had a family member in danger from something – drinking some coffee he had got at Starbucks next door to the hospital. He saw the delighted looks on family member’s faces when the doctor told them their child, their mother, their son, their husband – whatever family member it was – was going to be alright.

There were also the time within the few hours he sat out there that he saw families be pulled aside into other rooms. Everyone knew what that meant – it was what they had done for Jon and for Greta. However, Greta hadn’t died – she just witnessed one of her best friends being murdered in front of her.

“Excuse me… but are you a relative or a friend or a Jonathan Jacob Walker?” A female voice filled his head as he looked up to see a brunette nurse, biting her lip as she sat across from him. “Yeah…” He said softly as he took another sip of his coffee.

“Sir… we need someone to identify the body to make sure that it is him so we don’t do false identification,” She said, almost inaudibly. Andy froze. He had to see his best friend, with all of those cuts and bruises and… he had to see his best friend’s body?

“Can’t someone else do it?” He asked softly, and she sighed. “We’d have to wake someone up to do that, sir… you’re the only one awake at the moment and we need to determine that it’s him so we can alert family members.” Andy sighed and stared at his feet. What was he more afraid of? Was he more afraid of seeing Jon’s body, or knowing that he never got a chance to say goodbye?

“Alright,” He said softly. “However, I’ll do it only if I get a few minutes alone with the body, though.” As the nurse stared at him for a moment, the drummer whispered, “I just want to say goodbye to him. He was my best friend.”

The girl watched him and nodded her head. “I can arrange that… just follow me and we’ll go do it right now so we don’t have to wait.” As they stood up, Butcher started to walk but the girl grabbed his hand. Looking down at her, she frowned as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry about your loss,” She said softly. Giving her a weak smile, he nodded and whispered in a choked voice, “Thank you.” As they started to take a few steps, he sighed.

“Excuse me?” He asked, and she stopped to look at him. Andy, at that point, took a good look at her. She had long brown hair and matching brown eyes. She looked around twenty three or so, and she had a clear stud in her nose – it was easy to tell from the lighting in the room. “What’s your name?” He asked, and she took a moment to respond. “My name is Nicole… but everyone calls me Nicky.” The drummer nodded and murmured, “I’m Andy.” However, he doubted that Nichole heard him, as she had continued walking down the hallway.

The walk took five minutes. They had to go to the elevator, and go down into a lower level. Andy nearly gagged at the smell down there as the elevator doors opened. The girl glanced at him and gently patted his hand with her own tan ones. “Just breathe through your mouth,” She told him, leading him to a room with windows all over it. There was a sheet, with something bulging underneath it. Even from behind the window, the drummer could tell that it was a body… the shape was oh too familiar.

They walked into the room, but as they were at the doorway, the drummer’s hands began to shake and his eyes went towards the floor. Nicky noticed this and stopped, before going back and gently tugging on his arm. “This will only take a few minutes,” She whispered. Feeling slightly warm as her arm wrapped around his, he went with her tug towards the left side of the sheet.

“Are you ready?” She whispered, and after a moment, his eyes watered and he nodded his head. Nicky carefully lifted up the sheet and laid it across the man’s bare chest, and Andy felt a few tears slide down his face. There in front of him laid Jon… the man he had watched growing up from a little kid into a man throughout the years. “That’s Jon,” He whispered, looking over at Nicky. “That’s him.”

Nicky sighed and gave him a quick, gentle hug and said, “I’ll be upstairs if you need me… take your time while saying goodbye, alright?” Andy nodded, barely hearing her, but watched her as she left the room, stood outside for a few moments watching him, before turning her heal and making her way towards the elevator.

Thankfully, there was a chair nearby. Andy grabbed a hold of that and set it next to the metal bed that held his best friend’s body. It was silent except for the air conditioning that was running above them, and Andy sighed as he began to speak.

“I don’t know why you were in the middle of that street when the car was coming, Jon.” He stopped, and then continued in a choked up voice. “I don’t know why you were even that far away from the buses with Greta… but you always told me everything happens for a reason. You told me that God had our lives planned out, and that before we died, we would have done what we were suppose to do when we were first born.”

He went silent again, pulling back the sheet a little more to reveal Jon’s outstretched hands. Placing his own against it, he was scared to feel how cold the bassist’s hand felt. “You were my best friend, Jon, and I’m going to miss you so much.” A tear fell down his face, and he ended up resting his forehead against the metal table, his hair grazing Jon’s cold chest.

“I love you, man,” He whispered, closing his eyes tightly as he felt more tears run out of his eyes. He couldn’t believe this was happening – Jon was dead. Where was that going to leave Panic? Where was that going to leave everyone that loved him so much? His fingers laced through Jon’s frozen cold fingers, and he ended up falling asleep in that position.

Nicky, half an hour later, had got worried and made her way downstairs to check on him. She entered the room and walked over to Andy and Jon, about to wake the drummer up, but noticed something… odd… something that wasn’t like it before.

Jon had had perfectly flat hands against the metal when she had placed him there. However, the hand that Andy had his own hand on and his fingers intertwined with the dead bassist’s… Jon’s fingers were curled around The Butcher’s own fingers, as if he was holding his hand. Nicky stared at that for a moment, before gently removing Andy’s hand from Jon’s. She soothed out Jon’s hand so it was flat against the metal again, before she got onto her knees and gently shook Andy. “C’mon… we have to go, now,” She whispered to the waking drum player, who after a moment of staring at Jon, nodded his head and rose to his feet.

As she left, Andy went to follow her, but stopped in the doorway. “I love you, Jon,” He whispered, before turning to follow the nurse… not wanting to remember the condition of his best friend’s body with every step he took.

But now, he still sat in front of the doctor’s office. Mrs. Walker opened the door and started to walk out, still hysterically crying into her hands. Andy, at that point, was at his feet as he made his way over to her.

“Mrs. Walker…” He whispered, and she looked up. Instantly recognizing him, her lip quivered and she wrapped her arms around him, crying into his shoulder. He wrapped his own arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head as he closed his eyes.

The only problem was every time he closed his eyes, Jon’s bruised and battered body would appear. Andy was sure he was going to be haunted by the sight forever…

But hey… at least he got to say goodbye.

Pete took a deep breath as he stood side-by-side with Brendon. Both of their eyes looked glassy and bloodshot, and they simply stood there outside the waiting room of the four bands that had been there for the past day. Finally, they walked in and looked towards the ground. The room soon went colder than it was. I would say it went silent, but no one had been talking, either… just simply sitting in their spots on the numerous couches, chairs, and even the floor.

“Pete? Brendon? What’s wrong?” Andy Hurley asked as he sat up from his laying position after noticing the two walk inside. They both went stiff and their glances still were aimed towards the floor. They didn’t speak for a few moments, but then there was a sigh from one of the males. Brendon soon raised his head and looked at everyone sitting there, waiting for a response from him.

“She’s gone,” He said softly.

“What? Who are you talking about?” Bob asked, his eyes burning as he looked at the twenty year old singer.

“He’s talking about Greta, Bob,” Pete said, looking up from the floor. “She’s gone.”

A Sidekick on the table across from seventeen year old Sam Mendel had buzzed with a text a minute before. The boy had sat there staring at it, deciding whether or not to go retrieve its owner and let him know he had a text waiting for him. After two minutes, his good side got the best of him and he rose to his feet, grabbing the phone in his hands. He knew wherever the guitarist he was looking for would be, his bass would be somewhere near him… so it was just another reason to find him.

As he walked down the hallway, he smiled and waved at the lead singer of Boys Like Girls, Martin Johnson. It still felt like a dream that Rockesh had been able to go on tour with them. Another band was along – they were called For Today, and they were from Jefferson, South Dakota and kicked major ass – but Sam hadn’t really got to meet them yet. Today was only the mark of the first week of tour, after all. Finally, he stopped in the doorway as he spotted who – and what – he had been searching for.

“Hey, Paul, you just got a text a few minutes ago.”

Nineteen year old Paul DiGiovanni looked up from his notebook that he had been writing in earlier, to see a teenage boy standing there with his Sidekick in hand. Tossing it over to him, Sam soon walked over and picked up his bass, plucking at it with a bored expression across his face. “What’s it about?” He asked, looking over at the guitarist.

Paul was still staring at who it was from. Sure, he was use to hearing from Greta… but not at this time at night. She was more of an afternoon person, and didn’t like using the phone at night unless calling or texting her parents, her brother or Eileen’s parents. After staring at her name, he clicked open. His jaw soon dropped at what it said.

From: Greta Salpeter

Paul, it’s me. I’m standing outside the back door to the Knitting Factory. Please come or send someone to get me. I’ll see you soon.

Received: July 2^nd, 2007, 9:21 PM

“Sam,” He told the seventeen year old, who looked over, still plucking at his bass. “If Martin comes looking for me, tell him that Greta’s here and I’m going to go get her backstage, alright?”

“Whatever you say, captain,” The Kansas City native said with a shrug of his bass, before lowering his head and going into the beginning bassline of ‘I Wish I Believed’. Paul chuckled and shook his head at the kid, before rising to his feet and making his way to the back door of the venue. Throwing it open, he looked around, not spotting the nineteen year old female. That was until he looked down and to the side. There someone was, leaning against the wall as they sat on the cold cement floor, a hood over their head and their head lowered.

“Greta?” Paul asked softly, causing the figure to look up and shine their face into the dim light above the door. Seeing what her face looked like, the nineteen year old boy felt as if he was about to go into shock. She had red stitches all across her face, and a horrible olive green and purple bruise etched across her forehead. A black bruise was traced around her right eye, and both eyes were watering. Her hair was hidden behind the hood of the black hooded, oversized sweatshirt she had bought on her walk towards the venue, and her cast was hidden inside the large object of clothing.

“Oh my God, honey,” Paul said, jumping out the door and got on his knees, leaning in to look at her, his eyes widened with worry and his hands, which were shaking slightly from the sight – going to rest on her shoulders. The female watched him, the tears refusing to leave her eyes. After a moment, Paul wrapped an arm around her back, and the other under her legs, as he scooped her into his arms bridal style.

“It’s be alright, Greta, just don’t try to talk right now. I’m going to get you inside and get you a blanket and some nice, warm hot chocolate, alright? Just please, don’t try to move,” He told worriedly. She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as a few tears started to drop down her face. Paul had never seen her like this, and it was really staring to make him worry. As he made his way into the building, he spotted twenty two year old Bryan, who simply stared at him until he recognized the girl in his arms. Bryan then turned around and ran down the hallway, yelling Martin and John’s names.

Paul murmured something under his breath as he raced through backstage. For Today was playing right now, so that meant that all of Rockesh and hopefully the rest of Boys Like Girls would be backstage. Soon, he entered the Rockesh dressing room and set her down on the couch. As he watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath, he wasn’t sure what to expect. She then lowered her hood, deciding it wasn’t going to help any trying to hide her injuries. As he put a blanket over her and she curled up onto the couch, it was when Bryan and John ran into the room. Sam, of course, was no longer there, and neither was Martin… but by the time the singer came racing in with a smile on his face – having just been informed that Greta was there – he came upon the scene of Bryan and Paul sitting next to a beat up, worn out looking girl, who was silently crying as she leaned against Paul’s shoulder.

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. What had happened? Why didn’t he hear about this? Greta was hurt… the girl he looked down to as a little sister was hurt, and no one had had the decency to tell him.

“Greta…” The twenty one year old lead singer took a step towards her, but that was when her silent sobs turned into not-so silent anymore. “He’s dead, Martin, he’s dead,” She wailed, raising her one unbroken hand to cover her eyes and catch the tears falling. Everyone of them looked heartbroken, and not knowing what to do… before John – the twenty three year old drummer – asked softly, “G-Dawg, who’s dead? What happened?”

Her Sidekick slid out of her pocket and onto the floor, but she made no effort in grabbing it. She was too busy crying into her unbroken hand, her knees up to her chest as she continued to cry. Instead, Bryan got down and took the phone in his hands, looking down at the vibrating phone to see that she had four text messages she had to read. He made his way out into the hallway, looking down at the texts.

From: Pete Wentz

Greta, you need to call us and tell us where you are. You can’t just discharge yourself from the hospital and not tell anyone! Call us – we’re worried sick.

Received: July 2^nd, 2007 9:01 PM

From: Christopher Faller

Call us. NOW.

Received: July 2^nd, 2007 9:13 PM

From: Brendon Urie

Greta, babe, please call us. We’ll come get you – we’re not mad, we’re just worried about you. Please call us and at least let us know that you’re alright… please.

Received: July 2^nd, 2007 9:14 PM

From: William Beckett

Greta, please call us. I’ll come get you – just text me and tell me where you are. You shouldn’t be out of the hospital yet, and... just… please call me.

Received: July 2^nd, 2007 9:22 PM

Bryan stared at the texts, sighing as he slid to the floor and sat there, looking down at the texts. After a few moments of opening and closing the Sidekick, he opened it up and looked through her contacts. After clicking a familiar name, he held the girl’s Sidekick to his ear.

As soon as someone picked up, he sighed and began to speak. “Hey… no, it’s not Greta, but she’s alright… she just texted our guitarist and he found her at the back door of our venue. She’s inside right now warming up…  This is Bryan from BLG… don’t worry, man, she’s alright and she’s safe. Martin is trying to calm her down right now… No, don’t send for anyone else to come get her… I think she needs you more than ever right now.”

I think she needs you more than ever right now.

Those words ran through Patrick’s head as he climbed out of his cab in front of The Knitting Factory. Outside, a male in a black hoodie was waiting for him, wearing aviator shades and his hood over his head. Soon, he lowered it as soon as he spotted the singer and guitarist. “Patrick Stump?” He asked softly, walking over. Sure, he wasn’t exactly a huge fan of Fall Out Boy… but Martin had asked him to wait for him to come get the girl that was backstage, and who was he to say no to the lead singer of the headlining band they were touring with?

“That’s me. Is Greta alright?” Patrick gave a frustrated sigh as he ran his hand through his hair. The singer in front of him nodded and said, “From what I saw, she’s pretty beat up… but she’s alright. Martin and Paul were getting her hot chocolate a few minutes ago… here, I’ll take you back to her.” As they walked, the twenty three year old Fall Out Boy singer asked, “What’s your name?”

“Brendan… Brendan McReynolds,” He glanced back at Patrick and gave him a weak smile. “My band is touring with Boys Like Girls for the next month while we’re out of school.” Patrick nodded his head and followed the singer backstage, and the teenager soon knocked on a door that had the words BLG spray painted across it. Brendan opened the door and held it open for Patrick, and he made his way inside.

Inside the room sat Martin Johnson, a familiar face to Patrick, and Greta, who was sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. Martin nodded towards her producer and quickly left the room. Patrick stood there watching the girl, who was refusing to look at him… only into her mug of hot chocolate.

“Greta,” He said softly, but then Greta spoke. “Patrick, if you’re just going to tell me how bad I am for discharging myself and how I should have told someone… please just don’t say it. I’m already going to get a bitching from everyone else, and I really don’t want you to put me through the same talk that I’m sure at least five people are going to give me as soon as they see me.” Patrick bit his lip and sat down next to her, leaning against the back of the couch.

“I’m actually not going to go into producer mode right now… right now, Greta, I’m in the I’m-your-friend-and-I’m-taking-you-home mode.” Greta stared at him, before whispering, “What’re you talking about?”

“Jon’s mom wants the funeral in Chicago, Greta… everyone is going to be going back there tomorrow… but I’m taking you home tonight. I already have a plane ready to go at Newark Airport just for the two of us… we have some friends out here who have a twelve seater jet who agreed to fly you and me home tonight.” He turned to look at the nineteen year old, but she had set the mug down and her hands were on her lap, tears falling down her face.

“Greta,” He whispered, wrapping arm around her shoulders as she laid her head against his shoulder. “His funeral…” She said softly, closing her eyes. “This isn’t a nightmare, is it? It’s actually happening?” Patrick sighed and nodded his head. “No matter how much I wish this were a nightmare, Greta… it’s not.”

He felt her shoulders shake and he felt a wet sensation hit his cotton shirt, and he wrapped his arms around the younger girl. After about thirty minutes of just silent crying, she had ended up falling asleep and he picked her up. Martin held open the door and walked after them. Outside, a black SUV was sitting and Patrick opened the door. Inside, a very skinny male took Greta and placed her in the car, and Patrick turned to Martin.

“Thank you,” He said softly, and Martin shook his head. “No, Patrick… I really need to be thanking you.” He looked into the car to look at Greta, before looking back at her producer. “She really loves you,” The twenty one year old told the fellow, older singer. “She talks about you all the time… you’re pretty much her hero.”

Feeling a pang hit his insides, Patrick weakly smiled and he gave the younger boy a hug. “Feel free to give me a call anytime, alright, Martin? I think you have a show you have to play now.” Even from outside the venue, they could hear the chant of ‘Boys Like Girls!’ over and over again from the crowd. Martin waved and ran inside the venue, and Patrick climbed into the car.

“Newark Airport, please,” He said, looking over at the sleeping Greta lying next to him. Gently, he guided her so her head was resting on his lap, and his head turned to look out the window at the passing lights. As they passed Times Square, he saw a police blocked-off area, and he felt something in his body drop. The accident had happened in Times Square… was that the place this all happened?

Patrick shut his eyes and lowered his head, looking down at the sleeping girl as soon as he opened his eyes. He ran his fingers gently through her hair as he whispered, “We’re going to be alright, Greta. We’re going to be alright.”

“They’re just about to take off,” Pete reported as he got off the phone with Patrick an hour later. Everyone was packing their stuff and about to get on their busses, and no one was really paying attention to Pete except for William, who was glaring at him. “I can’t believe you fell asleep while you were suppose to be watching her,” He murmured, and Pete sighed.

“William, I…” William held up a hand and said, “I don’t want to start yelling right now, Pete. We’ll discuss this at a later time.” With that, he got onto his bus. Everyone was accounted for on their busses… except for one person. He knew that he had been out for coffee that morning with a female nurse, and that the drummer was nearly head over heals for this girl now… buts till. Where the fuck was he?

Andy Mrotek was running through the hallway of the hospital, his eyes wandering wildly until he spotted the person he wanted to see. She was turned away from him, sipping on coffee as she talked to another female, yet shorter nurse. Sighing, he cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, “Nicky!”

The twenty three year old turned and looked over her shoulder, turning around and making her way towards him as he raced towards her. As they met, he wrapped his arms around her, and she wrapped her arms around him. The two remained in embrace for a few seconds before Nicky pulled away. “Have a nice time in Chicago, Andy,” She told him. Her saying his name sent butterflies down his chest. She knew his name!

“I’ll be back. Either I’ll be back, or I’ll fly you out to Chicago to see me,” He said hurriedly as he held onto her hands. He was in a hurry, so he had to make this quick. “Just promise you aren’t going to forget me.” “How could I?” She asked with a soft laugh. He let go of her hands and slid his clandestine bat necklace off his neck, and lowered it over her head so she was now wearing it. “Just incase,” He said, before giving her a weak smile and racing off towards the busses.

Aboard the The Hush Sound bus, Chris Faller looked out the window and up at the sky, sighing as he saw flashing lights in the sky above them. Little did they know, Greta was looking down from the flashing lights – which happened to be the plan Patrick had told her about – taking one last look at the city was destroyed her. Finally, she closed her eyes and leaned against her seat.

She was going home. However, home was never going to be the same anymore.

Ooc – Rockesh is a real band from the Overland Park area in Kansas City. They are amazing, and I would love for you guys to listen to them! www.myspace.com/rockesh . For Today is also a band, and you can listen to them at www.myspace.com/fortoday .

Until next time,

 Kia

When Blood & Youth Were Warmer: Chapter Two

Written by: Kiathemerchgirl

The bus swerved into the hospital parking lot at a rapid speed. Mr. Michael Carden was sure that someone in the world had taken a tour bus into a parking lot at forty three miles per hour, but this was his first experience at doing so. He had never dared think of doing it before until he heard of Greta’s injuries. It was that that set him off to the driver’s seat and sped his way towards the hospital. Everyone was sitting on the couch or the bunks in the back of the bus, all of them silent except for Pete, who was typing away on his Sidekick to alert Sean O’Keeffe – The Hush Sound’s manager and good friend – of what had happened.

“We’re here,” The guitarist called and the first one to bound off the bus was of course Bob, followed closely behind by Darren and Chris. Everyone else stood up slowly and made their way off of the bus. Mike was about to leave, but then he saw William sitting in the back of the bus, his eyes looking lost as he stared at the ceiling. Biting his lip, the longtime friend made his way back and sat down next to him.

“Greta’s a strong girl, William,” He said, trying to comfort his friend. “Whatever is going on with her, she’ll make it through it fine. Everyone knows she will… she’s Greta.” Will’s eyes went from the ceiling of the bus to Mike, and stared at him for a few seconds before he said softly, “What if she doesn’t turn out alright though, Mike? She might not be the same person ever again.”

“You’re guessing that,” Mike pointed out. “We don’t know what her injuries are, so we don’t know if she’ll be the same person.” William shot him a glare, and the guitarist quickly added, “She’s going to be alright, Will.”

After a moment of silence, Mike’s eyes widened. He could now understand why this was killing Will on the inside… he finally understood. “You haven’t told her, have you?”

Will shook his head sadly and looked at the floor. “I never got the chance,” He said, biting his lip. Mike sighed and wrapped an arm around the singer’s shoulders. “I wanted to find the perfect moment. I wanted everything to be perfect when I told her how much she meant to me.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Mike stood up, grabbing William’s hand and dragging him to his feet. “Come on,” He said, a look of determination in his eyes. “Let’s go inside and see what’s up… I’m sure someone would love to fill us in.”

Beckett nodded his head and walked after the guitarist, dreading every step he took. He might as well get this over with and find out what was wrong with her… although deep down, he was dying to know. He wanted to see her, to be able to touch her, to be able to smell the lavender in her hair from the conditioner she used… he wanted to be there for her. There was no way of doing that if he didn’t get this over with.

Pete’s eyes locked onto the doctor’s as soon as he entered the room they had given the bands to wait for Greta’s prognosis. The room – which had been quiet with talk – soon went completely dead as soon as he walked in. William and Mike had come in moments before, and they were currently sitting on the arm of the navy loveseat. After a moment, Bob stood up from his seat on a wooden chair and asked, “What happened to Greta?” Everyone murmured in agreement, and it took the doctor a moment to explain.

“Witnesses reports stated that Ms. Salpeter was walking around Times Square approximately 12:40 this morning,” He told them, watching Bob stand next to Pete, the bassist placing a protective arm around Bob’s shaking shoulders. “They then said she stepped out before she was suppose to, and was hit by a car moments later. The driver hadn’t seen her until it was too late, and swerved soon after hitting her into a sidewalk.” The room was silent, but then pandemonium struck – again – as everyone started speaking at the same time.

“What unit of care if she in?”

“Have you alerted her parents to the accident yet?”

“Why didn’t people stop her from trying to cross the God damned street?”

“Can we see her?”

One of the questions stood out though. Adam Siska, another one of the youngest people on tour, had stood from his leaning position against the wall and asked, “What are her injuries?”

Everyone murmured in agreement once more, and the doctor soon spoke without pausing. This gave everyone a positive look that she was going to be alright. “Greta suffered the injuries of three cracked ribs… two received on the left and one on the right. She broke her arm in two places, and suffered minor head trauma from when she fell which resulted in stitches across her forehead. Physically, she’ll heal all-together within three months.”

“Will she be alright mentally?” Ryan asked softly, causing a few stares towards him, and even more stares towards the doctor. He nodded his head and said, “During our scan, we didn’t notice anything wrong… so mentally, yes, she will most likely be fine. However, we did have to give her a drug-induced sleeping aid in her IV, as she was quite hysterical when the morphine faded.”

The room was silent for a moment, and the doctor turned to leave, but someone spoke… and it ended up being Joe Trohman. He had been sitting on the floor, leaning against the front of the loveseat that most people were perched on at the moment. “Was there anything with her? Was she walking with anyone?” Everyone knew who he was talking about… he wanted to know if Jon had been with her.

The doctor stayed silent, before saying, “There was a male walking with her who was also hit by the car that was pronounced dead on arrival once at the hospital. He wasn’t carrying any identification with him, so we’re trying to find out who exactly he is. He was described as a twenty one year old male who was wearing black jeans and a black shirt. He…”

“..had facial hair?” Brendon asked, eyes widened as the doctor nodded.

“..brown eyes?” Chris Faller asked, his hands turning white from holding onto the arm of the loveseat so hard. The doctor solemnly nodded, and Andy Hurley asked the last question, although everyone knew… he just had to make sure. There was a one percent chance that it wasn’t Jon… it couldn’t be Jon.

“… was he wearing a red rubber band around his left wrist?” The drummer asked, and the doctor closed his eyes and nodded. The room went silent and cold, only to be interrupted by a sob coming from Spencer, who was crying into his hands. Ryan and Brendon’s arms were wrapped around each other and the drummer, all of them now crying. Soon, everyone was crying, their arms wrapped around the person closest to themselves. However, William had gotten to his feet and made his way to the doctor. “What room is Greta in?” The singer asked in a monotone voice, trying to ignore the crying from behind him. Sadness is what had started him drinking… and he was afraid if he was around it, he would get another urge and make a huge mistake.

“Down the hallway… it’s the first door to your left,” The doctor whispered, and within a second, William had taken off. The doctor’s eyes then looked at everyone, all of their heads down and silent tears trailing down their faces, except for Spencer, Ryan and Brendon’s now-hysterical cries.

William stood in the doorway of Greta’s hospital room, looking at the cold, hard floor. He was so scared to see the condition she was in – usually injuries didn’t affect him this much. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling this way. She was alive, and Jon wasn’t. Shouldn’t he be glad that his best friend was still alive? Slowly, his eyes went from the floor into the room, as he took a step inside. He closed the door behind him and stared at the wooden fixture for a moment, before turning and walking into the room.

He stopped dead a few steps in as he saw Greta in the hospital bed. She was hooked up to so many machines – it didn’t look right. The girl laying there didn’t look like Greta at all. A tube was going up her nose, and she had an IV connected to her arm. Her heart monitor beeped every few seconds, and a few other machines were in there. Will didn’t know why they were there. If she was going to be fine, they didn’t need all of the machines that were hooked to her body. That girl in the bed looked nothing like Greta. That couldn’t be Greta.

Her golden hair was matted with wetness. Will was sure that it was from the hospital staff cleaning her hair to get all of the blood out of it. The bruising on her forehead had already turned a dark shade of purple and an olive green color, her red stitches sticking out against her pale completion. Her eyes were fluttering every few moments, as if she was dreaming. Deep down, the twenty two year old wished that he was dreaming. He wished that he would wake up on the couch backstage on the Nokia Theatre, with Greta poking him and telling him it was past curfew. He knew that was just a figure of his imagination, though, and that this was real. Her right arm was wrapped in a white cast, almost matching the white and grey hospital clothing they had placed her in.

As he took a few steps forward, the singer finally took a seat next to her bed and stared at the figure on the bed. He wanted to scream at her to wake up, to open her eyes, to do something to let him know that she was going to be alright. He knew it was too much to ask of her right now – and he didn’t know how long her drug induced sleep was going to last. He hoped she would wake up soon, because at this point of time he needed her more than anything.

Surprisingly, he felt a tear slide down his right cheek. The Chicago native did nothing to stop it – only continued staring at the nineteen year old. A few more tears made its ways past his guarded eyes and down his face, and he soon lowered his glance to the floor. What was he finding so interesting about the floor? Maybe it was the fact he couldn’t stand staring at Greta at the moment. He couldn’t believe this was happening; he couldn’t believe that a good friend was dead and his best friend was in intensive care. He just wanted her to wake up and let him know she was going to be ok; he wanted her to let him know that she was still there.

Why couldn’t she be like Sleeping Beauty and wake up? He paused to think about it for a moment. His pondering led him to the thought that maybe – just maybe – she was like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White or… or… or just, some Disney character. She needed something to wake up to. She needed someone that was going to be there for her no matter what; someone that would hold her hand through the rest of her life… someone that loved her.

William didn’t take any other time to think about it. He knew deep down that he could be that guy. He would be the guy that would be there for her the rest of her life. He prayed that this would somehow work as he scooted closer to Greta’s bed. Soon he was at her side, his hand holding softly onto her cast, looking down at her face. Her eyelids twitched once more, and he felt a strike of hope. Maybe this would work. If it didn’t, well… he wouldn’t have to worry about her not liking him back, as she would probably never remember it.

That was when he pressed his lips gently on hers. It was an extremely soft kiss that lasted for about five seconds before he pulled away and watched. She made no movement, and he felt his heart drop. He closed his eyes, and didn’t hold back the tears that had been stinging his eyes. It was his chance to cry, now. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Butcher?” Sisky’s voice softly penetrated Andy’s thoughts as he stood outside, staring up at the sky. He had left the room right after William, afraid that he was going to get sick if he stayed in there. He couldn’t stand the crying – he couldn’t stand anything right now. However, everyone had let him go… they all knew that out of all the bands except for Panic!, since that had been Jon’s band, that he had been the closest person to Jon… everyone knew that. They were like brothers from another family; they had done everything together. Now that Jon was dead, Butcher felt that half of him was gone. He felt like he wasn’t a person anymore… just a shell.

“Sisky,” The drummer greeted his friend softly, and Adam quickly made his way to his side, looking up at the sky with Butcher. After a moment, The Butcher whispered in a choked voice, “Do you believe in Heaven, Adam?” The question took the question by surprise, but he answered honestly. “I’ve never really thought about it or not… but I do think that there is a thing as Heaven.”

The nineteen year old turned to look at the drummer, and wasn’t surprised to see two tears stray down his face. “Do you think that Jon’s in Heaven?” The Butcher then asked, and Adam nodded. “I really do think so… he is – was a wonderful person and no one could have said differently.” The two were silent, and after a moment, Andy’s arms wrapped around the younger, shorter boy and he started to cry harder. Adam placed his arms around the tall, yet small male and closed his eyes, feeling his own tears welling in his eyes.

“It’s going to be ok, Andy,” He whispered. “We’re all going to be alright.”

“Jon’s dead,” The drummer cried out softly. “Our friend is dead. Why, Adam? Why did he have to die?” Adam, however, didn’t respond.

How were you suppose to respond to a question you didn’t know the answer to?

Greta still hadn’t woken up… and it was starting to scare William.

Why wasn’t she waking up? The drugs surely couldn’t last that long. The sleeping aid was only suppose to help her for thirty minutes so they would have had enough time to stitch her up! What had it been, forty minutes now? Will’s foot impatiently tapped on the floor, his eyes scanning the ground for any bits of dust that he might be able to sweep away. He wanted – no, he needed her to wake up. He felt he was going to break if he didn’t.

At that same moment, a small, tired moan escaped from the lips of the girl lying in front of him.

William's eyes soon darted from the floor onto a now blinking Greta, who stared up at the ceiling of the white hospital room. His mouth opened to speak, but the nineteen year old tilted her head slowly to look at him. A small, confused look spread across her face as soon as she noticed his cheeks bright red from the numerous tears that had fallen in the last seventeen minutes.

"G-Greta," He started to say, but her look demanded that he be quiet. The room remained silent for a few minutes before she spoke. It was soft because of the numerous cracked ribs, but it was still speaking. Her eyes were lit up with hope and there was no emotion in the blank look across her face. "Jon..?"

At the shake of William's head and watching his eyes close, Greta felt the blank expression drop into a deep frown. Her eyes welled up with tears, and within seconds there were hysterical tears running down her face. She looked up at the ceiling and stared, and orbs focusing on the white plastered ceiling. Soon, a sob escaped her lips and she felt her eyes close.

Jon was dead. He was dead, and she knew deep down it was her fault.

Will was on his feet and at her side, wrapping his arms around her. She wrapped her one non-broken arm around him, sobbing into his cotton shirt, clinging onto it for dear life. They stayed like that for about six minutes, before Greta pulled away, now sobbing silently to herself. William was now also in tears, and he pushed a strand of her bands out of her eyes.

“Do you… do you need me to go get the band?” He asked softly, and she shook her hands and scooted over to one side of the bed. Taking that as a go-ahead, William slowly slid onto the top of the sheets of the bed, glancing at his side to the teenager, who had her eyes closed and tears still streaming down her face at a rapid pace.

“No…” She finally said, her whole body shaking as she tried to stop herself from crying. “I don’t want to see them. I can’t… I can’t face them right now, Will. Just… hold me. Please?”

William didn’t need to be told twice. His arms gently wrapped around her and pulled her to him. Her head rested against his chest, and her arms wrapped around his stomach as she continued to cry.

Neither of them knew how long this continued, for when the nurse walked in the next morning at six in the morning, the two were still in the position, fast asleep.

goodbye for now, guys! Leave comments!

When Blood & Youth Were Warmer: Chapter One

Written by: kiathemerchgirl

The tour had been the best they had ever had as a band.

William’s eyes scanned over the poster backstage at the Nokia Theatre in New York City, a small smile spread across his face. The Last Man Standing tour had had the best line up yet in his mind – The Academy Is, The Hush Sound, Panic! At the Disco and Fall Out Boy.  The poster had a funky, funny picture of each band, each band member doing a funky face, or a weird move with their instrument. He raised his hand and put his pointing finger on his picture’s face. Running his finger down the poster, he sighed softly and glanced behind his shoulder before looking back to the poster. He looked so worn and tired – he couldn’t understand why. He felt no different except for those cravings he had been having. Words couldn’t begin to explain how bad he had been craving an alcoholic beverage the past few days… but his band and tour mates had been there for him when he needed to talk, and they had all been loyal and a true friend… one person in certain.

“Hey, loser,” Came a call from behind him of that person, and William soon heard bare feet scampering across the floor, and soon enough felt a force on his back and a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders. The twenty two year old laughed and looked up, seeing blonde hair cascading down at him. “Hi, Greta,” He greeted one of the youngest people on tour, spinning around for a moment before stopping, wrapping his arms around her legs so she had more balance on his back.

“Fall Out Boy’s set just got done with,” She whispered into his ear and after he didn’t reply, she whispered even more softly, “You know what that means.” Setting the singer and pianist down onto her feet, he turned around and nodded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Yes, I do. C’mon, let’s head to the bus,” He said with a laugh and the two began their walk.

Since touring together in the UK last year, Greta Salpeter and William Beckett had almost been inseparable. When they weren’t on tours, they could both fly to Chicago and stay in hotels together, doing everything and anything – getting coffee, going on walks, pulling pranks on their families… it was all so wonderful and the two had became close friends. However, it surprised people that they weren’t dating… because they sure seemed like it.

Maybe in the future, they would set their ‘just friendship’ aside and become more. Who knew?

“You guys did really good tonight,” He told his best friend with a smile, and she looked up and smiled back at him. “I actually think that was one of our bad shows,” She explained. “I mean, my voice cracked on Honey… and I messed up completely during Wine Red.” She sighed and William gave her a one-armed hug. “You did great, Gretel-Cake,” He told her, causing her to laugh. He had got the nickname for her after trying to say ‘grittle cake’ during a game… and it had kind of stuck.

As they got to the tour bus, William opened it and smiled, motioning for her to walk in. “Thank you,” She said with a smile and had stepped one foot in when a yell came out. Greta jumped out of the bus and next to Will, holding onto his arm. A confused look flashed across William’s face as he put an arm back around Greta, listening to Spencer’s yell fill the bus once more.

“You promised us you weren’t going to drink anymore!” The drummer’s outburst stung both Will and Greta as they stood outside the bus. “You promised me that you were going to stop!” Jon’s voice soon yelled back, “I didn’t promise anything, Spencer. You told me to cut back on drinking, and I did, but I never promised I wasn’t going to drink anymore. I’m going to continue to drink – I’m me for Christ’s sake!”

At that, the nineteen year old female took Will’s hand and jumped into the bus, climbing the few steps as she dragged her best friend with her, and both peered in to see Spencer and Jon going at it… again. It was kind of a usual sight, but usually they just talked sternly to each other about it – never had they seen them yell at each other. Ryan and Brendon were both standing between the living area and the bunks, watching this with worried looks across their faces. Both of Spencer’s hands were in a fist, and in one of Jon’s hands, held a half-empty beer bottle. Spencer’s eyes were filled with angry tears, and they couldn’t see Jon’s face – he was facing away from them.

“Look, I know you’re upset over your breakup with Cassie, but please don’t drink, Jon,” Spencer half yelled, half begged the bassist, who looked about as cold as stone at the moment. After a tense moment, Jon shook his head and said, “You don’t know what’s going on with me, Spencer, so don’t even try.” He looked upon the younger drummer, who looked like he had tears dotting his eyes, and the silence continued.

After a moment, Jon grumbled and turned, heading towards the door. “I’m going on a walk. Don’t wait up for me,” He snapped, walking past Greta and William. Both stood there for a moment, William’s arm still around Greta’s shoulders. Greta’s eyes watched her bassist friend go, and she sighed. “I’m going to go after him and calm him down. You talk to Spencer,” She whispered to Will, before jumping down the stairs, out the door, and after Jon.

“Greta, wait,” Will said, and she stopped and looked at him. Why did he not want her going after Jon? That bad feeling was sticking in his stomach, and he offered, “How about you go talk to Spencer and I go talk to Jon? I know how to calm him down.” He watched his best friend, his look downwards at her, but the girl shook her head. “Will, please go talk to Spencer.” With that, the turned her heal and ran after Jon, calling his name as she did so.

“Hey,” William greeted a now sitting Spencer, who was hastily wiping away the tears in his eyes. William places his arm around Spencer’s shoulders and leaned back again the couch, urging the drummer to do the same. “You going to be ok?”

“I will be,” Spencer said softly, before continuing as Ryan and Brendon took a seat on the other side of him. “I don’t want him getting too into drinking. A lot of people I know that have drank get into a deep position in their life… and I don’t want him to go through that. He’s one of our best friends, William,” He sighed and rested his head against Will’s shoulder.

“I know, buddy…” The singer said softly, resting his head on top of Spencer’s. Was this how people felt when he was drinking? He wasn’t sure… but right now he was feeling pretty damn horrible. “I know.”

“Jon Walker, slow down now!” Greta’s cries out to the bassist after about ten minutes made a pang of guilt shoot through his body, and he slowed his walk so she could catch up with him. They were now somewhere in Time’s Square, and Greta didn’t know exactly where… but all she was thinking about was catching up with a now frozen Jon, standing in front of a building as he waited for her.

As she arrived at his side, the bassist turned to keep walking, but Greta flung her hands out onto his shoulders and threw his body around so he could face her. Raising her hands to cup his face, she said sternly, “Jon, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep running from your problems, and you definitely can’t stop running from the people that are trying to make sure you’re ok.” He could feel the anger in her voice, and the sadness in her eyes… and he felt another pang of guilt run through his body.

“Greta…” He started, but she continued, her voice extremely stern and her eyes shooting daggers.

“Don’t you dare ‘Greta’ me, Jon. You aren’t going to make me feel bad.” After a moment, she started again. “Jon, I love you like a brother and you know that. Just a few days ago, you told me I was like a little sister to you. You’re my family weather you like it or not, Jon, and in a family, everyone cares for each other. Everyone makes sure everyone is alright, and the last thing you want to do is run away from those people. If you run away from the people that care about you, do you know what will happen? You’ll lose them. You’ll get too distant and you’ll lose them and then who will you have, Jon? Now, either talk to me, or I’ll go away and you’ll lose me forever.”

She lowered her hands and balled them into fists at her side, watching him as his gaze went towards the floor. It was silent except for the sounds around them, before Jon looked into the nineteen year old girls’ eyes. “I’m sorry,” He finally said, and Greta felt her fists return to her normal outspread hands. Well… it was a start.

“C’mon, Jon,” She said softly, taking his hand in hers and turning around to go the direction they had been going – away from the bus. “Just tell me what’s going on, please?”

Jon took a deep breath, and started to tell Greta what was going on – about the tour, the fighting… everything. She had a way of knocking sense into a person’s mind, and that’s what he loved about the younger girl. Hopefully she would listen.

Of course she would listen. She was Greta.

“Ever since he and Cassie broke up a month ago, he’s been out drinking a lot more,” Spencer said, looking up at the ceiling of the tour bus as he spoke to Ryan, Brendon and William. “We all know how much she meant to him and that’s why I’m so worried. He’s never acted this way before and it’s scaring me. I mean, just yesterday he yelled at Brendon for taking his drink to take a sip of it… that’s not Jon. That’s not the Jon Walker that joined the band and we became best friends with.”

Beckett’s eyes glanced over to Brendon, who was staring intently at Spencer. Brendon taking sips of other people’s drinks weren’t surprising, but as long as he wasn’t going overboard, they were all alright with it… including Ryan. Will was pretty sure that was the only reason Brendon didn’t go overboard – he knew what happened with Ryan’s dad and he didn’t want to give him any reminders. Everyone knew about Ryan’s dad and how upset he got when people he loved started drinking as much as his father had.

The silence was killing Will. They had to start talking. They had been silent for at least ten seconds now and it was driving him insane. Someone needed to speak! So, after a moment, he decided that person was going to be him.

“He’s not an alcoholic,” Will finally stated, causing the three boys to look at the older male with a confusing look on their faces. “Trust me… sure, he likes his drinks, but he’s not an alcoholic. I understand why you’re worrying, Spence,” He said, his thin, bony fingers tugging slightly at Spencer’s shirt as a comfort to himself. “But this is Jon’s life. There’s not much you can do for the guy if he doesn’t want any help.”

“But, Will…” Spencer started, but the singer shook his head.

“He’ll be fine. With Greta talking to him, how could he not be?” That sent a small chuckle throughout the bus. Panic! At the Disco had been on tour with The Hush Sound before, and they all knew how Greta acted and talked to people… in their minds, she was the kind of girl you wanted to settle down with. However, she wasn’t interested – and it would be weird to date someone you were as close to as your sister. Spencer gave Beckett a hug, closing his eyes as he did so. “Thank you, Will,” He said softly, and the singer ran his hands through Spencer’s medium length hair. “No problem, buddy… now, who is up for a game of Guitar Hero?” Smirking, he glanced at Ryan, who stared right back at him, and then saw a smile glide across his face. “Why not?” Ryan said, getting to his feet. “Let’s play.”

“I miss her,” Jon said softly as he and Greta walked hand-in-hand down Times Square. Sure, people were recognizing him, and raising an eyebrow at him holding hands with another blonde that wasn’t Cassie. There was nothing but friendship between those two, but it felt like a security measure for both of them. Jon didn’t want Greta walking through Times Square alone because something might happen to her, and Greta didn’t want Jon walking alone in the case that he might hurt himself.

“I loved her more than anything, Greta… and I don’t understand why we broke up. She said that she needed space from me… but I only got to see her once or twice a month. It doesn’t make sense.” Greta sighed and ran her laced fingers on the palm of his hand for comfort.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jon,” She said after a moment of silence between the two. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation for the breakup, and after seeing the relationship you guys had… you’ll be back together in no time, I promise. You guys were made for each other and no one else.” Smiling, she glanced at Jon, who was looking towards the sidewalk as they walked. After another moment, Greta spoke again.

“I dated a guy for two years during So Sudden and Like Vines, and we broke it off a few months after Like Vines came out. He… he said he needed space, so I gave it to him. When I broke up, I was completely heartbroken and wouldn’t want to do anything. Pete would literally have to drag me out of the van to get me to go do something. A month or two later, he asked me back out and I said no. I found that after I didn’t have someone in my life that I needed to think about gave me this freedom I needed that I couldn’t have when he was there.”

“So is that why you’re still single?” Jon questioned, and Greta nodded. Jon felt a smile glide across his face as he swung their arms back and forth slowly. “But it doesn’t stop you from liking Will, does it?”

Greta remained silent, before saying, “Liking isn’t the same thing as dating… there’s no harm in liking William. Maybe in a few months or so, we could date… but I doubt he likes me. I just can’t do a relationship right now with the recording of the CD happening in a few weeks… I don’t think I could be under that much stress.” After a moment, she looked up at him. “Please don’t tell him about what we just talked about though, alright?” Jon smiled and nodded, leaning down and placing a brotherly kiss on her forehead. “I’ll take it with me to the grave,” He said, making both of them laugh softly.

They continued walking for around twenty minutes, and ended up stopping inside the Toys ‘R Us store and going on the toy Ferris wheel. One they got off, they linked hands once more and decided to head back to the bus. This was the happiest that Greta had seen Jon all tour – and she was loving it. She was glad in his time of need; she could be there for him. She looked down at her watch as they got outside, which read 12:33, and she winced. “Curfew was thirty minutes ago,” She told the bassist, who shrugged. “Oh well. We can say we got lost.”

Laughing, they were surprised to see not a lot of people there. It was about half of what was there earlier. Standing with a small crowd of people, Jon glanced around and saw no cars coming, so he started walking and nudged Greta to follow him. Being a good friend, she went with him and they slowly started making their way across the street. “Thank you for everything, Greta,” Jon said, stopping to place another kiss on her forehead, and she smiled. “It was no problem, Jon…” She stopped though as she was him looking at something.

“What’re you looking at?” She asked, and he shook his head. “Nothing… but c’mon, we’re standing in the middle of the street, let’s…” He stopped and his eyes widened, and Greta could see the oncoming reflection of headlights in his eyes. Greta whirled around to see the car ten feet away, and she let out a scream and closed her eyes. She felt herself be wrapped in something warm – she couldn’t begin to explain what it felt like, but along the lines of someone in front of her wrapping their arms around her. She felt something going fast hit her body, and she felt herself being thrown to the ground. Screaming, she landed on the cold cement, and she heard people screaming around her. However, she felt barely any pain.

Was this what it felt like when you were dying? It didn’t feel as bad as Greta had thought. It actually felt like nothing… just that she had fallen and was going to get up at any given time.

She felt her eyes glide open, feeling a thick substance running down her face and glancing down at her arm. It was definitely broken, and as soon as she moved it, let out a scream and closed her eyes. The pain was just kicking in after a few seconds. She opened her eyes again to see people all around her with cell phones and looking down at her worriedly, and seeing some people crying.

“I’m fine,” She said, but then raised her unbroken arm to wipe what she thought was tears off her face… However, she then noticed how goopy it was. Lowering her hand, she realized it as blood coming from her head. After a moment, it hit her. That car had hit her when she was standing in the street with Jon.

“Jon?” She asked, looking at the people that were looking down at her trying to calm her down. “Where’s Jon?!” She screamed, forcing herself to sit up and she looked over to where the car was now on the sidewalk. Blood was splattered all over the road and the car, and as soon as she spotted Jon, she let out a scream like never before.

“Jon!” She screamed, getting to her feet within a second, and trying to race over, but the people held her back. “Let go of me! He’s my brother!” She screamed, throwing out her unbroken arm as a desperate attempt to reach her fallen friend. “Jon! Jon, look at me! Wake up! Jon!”

The three The Hush Sound boys raced onto the Panic! At the Disco bus, all looking worried and tired. They were surprised to see four of the Chicagoan The Academy Is… drinking beer on the couch, Brendon and Spencer having a go at Guitar Hero, and Pete, Patrick, William and Ryan sitting at the table staring at their Sidekicks with a worried look on both of their faces. The game was soon paused and everyone looked at the three boys. Darren was the first to speak.

“Greta hasn’t come back to the bus,” He told them, and everyone remained silent. “Has anyone heard from her at all? It’s unlike her to be gone at…” He paused, looking down at his watch. “One forty seven in the morning.” William was next to speak, as no one else was going to. “Jon and Spencer got into a fight and Jon ended up storming off the bus… Greta went after him about two and a half hours ago. No one has heard from either one of them.”

Patrick stood up and grabbed his coat and his Sidekick, shoving it into his pocket as he looked at Bob, Chris and Darren. “You guys go get your coats,” Their producer ordered them. “We’re going to go look for them. If we can’t find them, Pete, I’ll call you and you can call the police.” He was about to leave, but Pete spoke up a second later.

“There’s no need to, Patrick…” He held up his vibrating Sidekick, with the caller ID reading Greta.

He flipped the Sidekick open and placed it on speaker, and said worriedly, “Greta? Where are you? Everyone has been freaking out back here. Did you find Jon?”

It was silent on the other end except for a hysterical, sobbing cry that everyone recognized as Greta’s. Will took a step towards the phone, and that was when someone spoke.

“Pete,” Greta sobbed into the speaker. She repeated his name between her hysterical cries, and Pete took a look at William, who looked like his heart was breaking with every time the nineteen year old said her A&R’s name. Bob came forward and whipped the phone from Pete’s hands, cupping it with his two hands and speaking. “Greta, babe, it’s Bob. It’s me. Greta, you need to tell us where you are and we’ll come get you.”

Greta’s sobs continued, and soon they grew distant as someone spoke into the phone. “Who am I talking to?”

Bob raised his eyebrows and said, “My name is Bob – I am Greta’s band mate. Who are you?”

“Mr. Bob, we would like you to come down to St. Mercy hospital as soon as possible, please.” The voice said, and Bob’s hands started to shake so bad that William took the phone from his hands and spoke.

“What happened to Greta? Is she alright? Did someone hurt her?” For a wild moment, he had visions of Jon and her in a fight, and him slapping her across the face, and he felt his anger grow. Jon would never do such a thing! Why was he even thinking that? He tried to calm himself down before the man spoke again.

“We’ll fill you in when you arrive.” With that, the phone clicked shut, and the bus remained silent. All at once, pandemonium ruled as everyone jumped to their feet.

“Who’s all going?”

“Are we going to take one of the buses so we can all fit?”

“Of course we’re all going, genius! Greta’s hurt.”

“Jesus Christ, someone try calling Jon and seeing where he is.”

William stood in the back of the bus, looking as the bus sped down a street in New York City. Finally, he closed his eyes. It was better sometimes if you just didn’t look.

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