Why The Milk?
Another day has passed on the tour bus. Every day was the same for them: waking up, arriving at the venue, sound checks, loads of waiting and, finally, the performance of the night. Needless to say, there were many fun and goofy times in between all of this. Brendon would always make up some ridiculous jokes, Ryan would laugh at everything, Spencer would make creepy faces and Jon would just be... Jon.
But today, today finished off with a slightly different vibe. During the show, Brendon suddenly blared out "This song is called Northern Downpour and it's dedicated to Ryan Ross. Love you." Almost instantly, all of the Ryden shippers in the crowd screamed in excitement. Brendon sure knew how to hype up the fans. But Ryan had no time to think of how to react so he awkwardly gave a little chuckle and said: "He's just joking". Then Jon had to freaking add a "No he's not". By this time, Ryan's face was burning red and Brendon could clearly see that.
Ryan had to divert himself from all of this madness. He quickly began to strum the starting chords of Northern Downpour. The fans naturally screamed again. The song was going well and everyone was singing along, but Ryan was nervous as hell. He could barely concentrate and his hands were so sweaty that he messed up four times throughout the song. When he looked over to his left to steal a quick glance at Brendon, he noticed that his crotch was unusually prominent. Ryan's heart raced again and luckily the song was about to finish.
"Hey moon don't you go down."
Yeah, moon as in dick, Ryan thought.
The cheers. The screams. The goodbyes. Another successful night.
On the tour bus, Ryan could not sleep. He tossed and turned, thinking through the things that happened that night, the little details. How Brendon looked at him when he said those words. How Jon said, "No he isn't". Ryan has always been a person who likes to overanalyse things, and this led to many sleepless nights. There was a strong urge inside of him to go over to the next bunk to ask Brendon "Did you really mean it?" He wanted to know so badly and he knew that the answer would probably be yes, but he just wanted to hear it from Brendon's mouth.
The next day came. Ryan eventually fell asleep last night at some time around 5am after giving up on attempting to build up the confidence to ask Brendon *the* question. He sluggishly changed into his skinny jeans and a weird, 70s vibe button-up shirt, because that was his aesthetic for the Pretty. Odd. Tour. He dragged himself into the bathroom, where he found, to his surprise, a half-naked Brendon taking a dump.
"Oh god Brendon why didn't you close the goddamn door?"
"Haha I see what you did there."
"Yeah... I'll leave you to it."
"Nah c'mon we've been living on the same bus for 3 months already. What haven't we done?"
A lot, thought Ryan.
"Yeah sure then, the guy who has no personal boundaries."
Ryan grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and began to brush his teeth.
"So..." said Brendon, "were you alright last night?"
"Whaaa do you meaaa?"
"I heard you tossing and turning and moaning. You know our beds are like two feet apart right?"
"Shorry, man. I just couldn't shleep."
"Was it because of what Jon and I said yesterday?"
Ryan rinsed his mouth and Brendon wiped his ass. ( foreshadow)
After a solid amount of awkward silence, Brendon said, "Okay. That's a yes, I guess. Well, I –"
"Did you mean it?"
"What?"
"Did you mean what you said?"
"Yes. I was about to tell you that if you didn't cut me off."
"I wanted to ask myself. I was trying to build up the courage to ask you since the show ended last night."
"Oh..."
Here comes the awkward silence again, thought Ryan.
"You care about me as much as I do, don't you?" asked Brendon.
Ryan felt a pang in his heart. Dang, how did he know?
"Ummmm..."
All was a blur when Brendon suddenly, and quite aggressively, grabbed Ryan's face and kissed him. Ryan was in awe. He had been waiting for this moment for 3 entire years. It felt so much more different than what he had expected. Brendon's lips were so soft, yet he kissed so hard. His hands were so rough, yet his touch was so delicate.
Brendon pulled away all of a sudden. "Where's the milk?"
"What? Why do you need milk?"
"You'll know. Just get me some milk. Preferably half a gallon."
"OK WHAT THE HELL BRENDON"
"JUST GO GET THE MILK"
Brendon's voice had so much authority that Ryan immediately felt his submissive self emerge.
"Ok where?"
"Underneath my bunk."
Ryan walked out from the bathroom and went to search underneath Brendon's bunk. What he found were huge bags of milk, around 10 of them, in which all of them were connected to a long, narrow tube. Ryan was horrified yet curious, but he felt that it was best not to question.
"How many?" shouted Ryan.
"One is fine for now."
Ryan reached for a bag of milk. Damn, it was heavy. Who the hell needs that much milk anyway? He clumsily wrapped his arms around the bag and made his way back towards the bathroom. Again, a surprise was waiting for his in the bathroom. Brendon was standing on top of the toilet, putting some sort of hook on the wall, and that's when Ryan realized that there was a small, plastic hoop attached to the bag of milk. Images started to piece together in Ryan's mind. The milk. The tube. The hook. It all made sense now. That milk is going up his ass.
"Brendon?"
"Yeah?"
"I think this is going a little too fast."
"What's going too fast?"
"Our relationship."
"Oh no, this is what I usually do on a first date. A great bonding activity."
Oh great, thought Ryan. Brendon's a total maniac. How come I never realized?
"Brendon… I really can't do this…"
"WELL YOU DON'T HAVE A CHOICE"
Ryan could feel the tiniest teardrop beginning to form around the corner of his left eye. It was his nature, to feel inferior, to be afraid and to listen to whatever orders he had been given. Now Brendon is clearly taking advantage of this. Perhaps what he said last night was merely a bait to get him into doing this and Jon was in it as well.
"Oh poor Ryan, don't cry."
"Stop. You're humiliating me."
"Oh dear, why would I do that?" said Brendon as he slowly reached to unzip Ryan's pants. Ryan shivered but did not dare to resist.
Soon enough, Ryan was completely naked and kneeling in the bathtub, with a towel beneath his knees.
"It won't hurt a bit, I swear. It'll be over in no time."
Brendon slowly inserted a plug into Ryan's anus. Ryan moaned uncomfortably, as the feeling felt so foreign and wrong.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Brendon took out the plug. Ryan immediately felt a sense of relief, but he knew that the feeling would not last for long. Brendon held the end of the tube that was connected to the bag of milk in his hand and he had an eager look on his face.
Without warning, Ryan felt the tube being pushed up his anus, but his natural reflex didn't allow it to enter. His muscles tensed up and his anus was tightly contracted.
"Why won't it go in? For god's sake, Ryan, open up!"
Brendon vigorously pushed again and again. Each push became harder and harder. Ryan could feel his anus begin to burn. Ryan knew that the only way to stop the pain was to loosen up and allow the tube to enter. But he didn't have the nerves. He was almost physically unable to do so. He was terrified. Tears fell down his face without control.
"Stop, Brendon, stop. Please, I'll do anything to make this stop. Please, make it stop. OWWW"
"HOLY SHIT," yelled Brendon. The shoving stopped. "HOLY SHIT WE NEED AN AMBULANCE!"
Ryan looked back. The bathtub was a bright, vibrant red. Blood gushed out of his anus like a southern downpour. Ryan could not take it anymore. He collapsed into his own pool of anus blood, as he heard the muffling sounds of Brendon yelling into his phone.
All was a blur afterwards. He remembered the chaos, the yelling, the lights of the ambulance, the terror on the paramedics' faces and the guilt in Brendon's eyes. At that moment, he knew that he would never forgive Brendon. Ever. He never knew how much of a sadist and demon he could be. How he could hurt his best friend like that. This was not the Brendon that Ryan fell in love with.
"Slow, slow. Don't rush. Take your time, Ryan."
It was Ryan's first step since the incident. He had been laying face flat on his hospital bed for an entire week and now that the pain had slightly subsided, the nurse had decided that it was best if Ryan gave his legs some exercise.
"Ouch! My asshole still feels like a burning torch."
"Well, that's what you get when you're into kinky milk butt sex," scorned another nurse from the opposite room.
"Hey! It wasn't his fault! Blame that Breadbin Urine guy!" shouted Ryan's nurse.
"His name's Brendon Urie, miss," said Ryan in a timid, weak voice.
"Wow, still so protective over him, are you? Even after what he'd done to you? Guess this is what you call Stockholm Syndrome, am I right?"
Ryan did not reply. He attempted to take another step. It did not hurt any less that the previous, but he was able to hold his agony in with a scrunched face and bleeding lips.
"Yes, you're doing great, Ryan! Take another step and we'll take a break."
Ryan took another step as slowly as possible, and in a position that would not hurt his anus as much.
"Ugh..."
"There! You did it! Now let's get you back to your bed and I'll get a drink of water. Your lips are all chapped and faded."
Ryan slowly sat down onto his wheelchair. The nurse wheeled him back to his bed and lifted him up to place him carefully onto his bed.
Wow, this is degrading, thought Ryan, thanks to Brendon I now have to be taken care of like a baby.
"I'll leave you to it," said the nurse.
Ryan felt a sigh of relief and lay comfortably on his belly, with his face deep in the pillow. The comfort did not last long, as his peace was interrupted by an abrupt knock on the door.
"Come iiiin," groaned Ryan.
In came the person Ryan least wanted to see. He was dressed in his Green Day t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans so tight that his thighs looked like they were about to burst out. But Ryan had to admit that Brendon looked pretty good in them. Brendon had a tired, sullen look on his face and his eyes looked right at Ryan's plastered ass.
"Yeah, look at the shit you've done to me," said Ryan in a salty voice. "What are you doing here anyway? You should get out before I tell my lawyer to issue a restraining order."
"I'm here to apologize."
"NO APOLOGIES WOULD MAKE ME FORGIVE YOU. WHAT YOU DID WAS WRONG. IF YOU WEREN'T MY FRIEND, NO, IF YOU WEREN'T MY BANDMATE, I WOULD'VE REPORTED YOU TO THE POLICE FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT AND DOMESTIC VIOLENCE RIGHT AWAY. BUT NO, I ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT MY CAREER AND WANT TO SAVE MY BAND'S REPUTATION UNLIKE YOU. ALL YOU DO IS SMOKE WEED AND DRINK AND PARTY ALL DAY. AND YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SING? NO WONDER PEOPLE SAY THAT YOUR VOICE SOUNDS LIKE A GOAT."
"Ryan… Calm down. You know I didn't mean to hurt you…"
"How can you even say that? You. Hurt. Me. That's that. There are no excuses."
There was a moment of silence before Ryan continued.
"You know… I used to think that you were charming and funny and great and all that. I thought you were so perfect in every way. But now I see that you're just a major dick."
"Ryan, there's something I have to tell you."
"What?"
"I have an obsession with milk."
"YEAH I CAN TELL"
"No, it's a real issue for me. Ever since I was a toddler, I could never stop drinking milk. I still drank milk from a bottle at the age of 6. Even up to my teenage years, when I didn't drink milk for a day, my hands would shake and I would get a panic attack and scream "Milk! Milk! Where's my milk?" All of my friends made fun of me because of this. They called me Milk Boi. Then I discovered milk enema on the Internet. It was such a life-changer. Since then, I would always force my dates to have a milk enema. I knew that it was wrong, especially when they cried and begged for me to stop, but I couldn't. It's like my head can't think straight whenever it comes to milk. Please, Ryan, I'm genuinely sorry about what happened. I've never actually hurt someone before until now. I guess it's time for me to control myself and sort things out."
Ryan tried to hold in his laughter. This was ridiculous. Milk boi? Ryan knew that the situation was very serious for Brendon, but he had never heard of something so absurd. He knew that Brendon wanted sympathy from him, but he was not taking any of this nonsense.
"Yeah, I agree. You should definitely go see a doctor. The psychiatry unit is just upstairs."
~9 months later~
It was late June of 2009. They had finished their last show of the Pretty. Odd. era 2 months ago. The last 9 months had been especially difficult for Ryan. He had been avoiding Brendon as much as possible and only interacted with him when he had to. There were no more stage gay, no more hand holding and no more flirting during interviews. Although Ryan had to admit that he did miss those days, he was certain that there was no looking back. He hated Brendon.
Now, Ryan spent most of his time with Jon, as they were both hardcore fans of The Beatles and loved 60s and 70s music. Jon and Ryan would have their own songwriting sessions while Brendon and Spencer had theirs. As time passed, it became obvious that the band was drifting apart.
"Jon, I'm so sick of this shit. The band's going nowhere and I can't even looking at Brendon without getting angry."
"Well, we've already come so far. We can't just quit or something."
"Yeah, we can."
"What? Are you kidding me, bro?"
"No, I'm serious. We can form our own band while Milk Boi and Spencer continue with their stupid pop-rock stuff."
"Really? Do you think it'd work?"
"Yeah, totally. I'm sure our fans would appreciate our music more than Brendon's stuff. We can shift Panic's fanbase to our new band and poor Milk Boi would have nothing but his filthy bags of milk."
Apparently, Ryan was wrong. RIP The Young Veins. Brendon became The Milk Man™, Forehead Bae™ and Frank Sinatra Wannabe™ while Ryan had nothing to do but to dress up as Goblin for a Halloween party.