Ryan woke up to the sound of the telephone on his bedside table ringing. He was a little disoriented at first, still not used to having a phone at all. He grabbed the wireless phone out of the cradle and held it to his ear, managing a croaky sounding "Hello?". He heard Jon's laughter at the other end.
"Wow. You sound like death." Ryan squinted at the light coming through the window before pulling a pillow over his head.
"Did you really have to call to wake me up? You could have just walked downstairs and not given me an instant headache from the ringing."
"Oh, Ry Ry Ry. Where's the fun in that?" He could hear the soft exhale of Jon's laugh through the phone. "There's food ready whenever you want to make it to the kitchen." Ryan groaned as the alcohol still in his stomach from the night before churned dangerously. He hung up and slammed the phone back into the holder before stumbling to the bathroom to vomit up the contents of his stomach.
He admittedly felt much better once he was finished, and the idea of greasy bacon started to look real appealing. He threw on some sweatpants from his closet and shuffled his way down the hall to the kitchen, feeling like his feet were attached to cinder blocks.
Jon was already sitting at a bar stool, looking like he'd gotten a full night's sleep rather than the three hours Ryan knew he'd gotten. "Good morning, sunshine." Jon singsonged to him as he entered.
"Fuck yourself. How are you not still drunk?" He grabbed a handful of bacon with his hand and shoved the whole thing in his mouth while Jon looked on in mild disgust.
"I didn't drink half as much as you. I was trying to network after the show." Ryan snorted.
"Network? With all three of the people in the crowd who knew who we were? And only then because they're fans of The Flying Rabbits?" Jon frowned at him as he continued eating all the various breakfast foods in large quantities.
"Even if they didn't know who we were going in, most of them liked the music. It's a good album. Besides, we've only played ten shows."
"Yeah, and the turnout for each one is worse than the last." Jon didn't have a response for that. "Hey, it's not like I'm looking to quit or anything. I just thought that once people heard our music, we'd be doing a little better than this by now."
"I get it. With the Rabbits we had a pretty uphill battle trying to get a label to sign us, but once we got the album out there, the hard part was over. It's almost the opposite this time around."
Ryan nodded in agreement. "It was really nice to produce the record here in your studio, but the ease of it sort of set me up to think... I don't know. Build it and they will come? I didn't think we'd be spending night after night playing to apathetic crowds who are just hoping for Brendon to show up."
Jon grimaced. "Yeah, it's definitely not what I'm used to either. I didn't realize people would blame me for leaving the band. They don't even know what happened. And it's not like I was hoping to capitalize on my fame, but I never really considered that we'd be starting from the ground up." They sat in silence for a while as Ryan finally ran out of room in his stomach for all the food on the table. He'd put on some weight in the past few months. Between eating Jon's food and working out with his personal trainer, he almost had a little bit of definition in a few of his muscles, though he was definitely still skinnier than the average guy his height.
"I invited Spencer to our show tonight." Jon said lightly, trying to judge Ryan's reaction.
"That's great. I'm sure he'll love it." Ryan tried to seem nonchalant, but it came out a little strained.
"He's going to come alone." Jon added.
"Of course he is. Brendon hasn't talked to me in months. Why would he start now?" He got up from the counter and went back to his room, trying very hard not to slam the door in a fit of anger.
After the night he'd slept with Brendon, the band with Jon had taken over his life. A few weeks had gone by, during which he'd made constant excuses to himself of why it wasn't the right time to call Brendon, and at a certain point it had started to feel too late. Once he'd given notice at his shitty apartment and moved into Jon's place, he thought he'd finally go for it. They were well into song writing for the album, and he'd had a rush of confidence.
Then Spencer came over to watch a movie on Jon's couch, and Ryan had joined them halfway through, unable to pass up another viewing of Fight Club. They'd been more affectionate than usual, and Ryan had asked if it was an anniversary or something. Apparently the Rabbits were leaving for a European tour, and this was the last time they'd see each other for two months.
Ryan's heart had dropped, and he realized he really had missed his window with Brendon. He had to leave the room after that, holing himself up in the music room and writing three full songs before Jon finally came in and made him go to bed. Because of this, perhaps the tone of the album leaned a little towards the longing and regret-filled side. This train of thought lead him to the conclusion that the failure of their band was all his fault, since he couldn't write happy pop songs that would sell well.
By the time Jon was rounding him up to get dressed and make it in time for sound check, he'd gotten into a pretty deep funk. The idea of alcohol seemed appealing in theory, but when they got to the bar and he actually smelled the vodka spilled on the floor mixed with the slight waft of vomit coming from the bathrooms, he decided against it.
Their sound check went by without event. Even the guys watching the levels and telling them which mic to sing into looked bored out of their minds. Ryan found it hard to put any amount of emotion behind the lyrics when he'd played them so many times they just felt like familiar sounds in his mouth. The first few times he'd sung them to Jon, alone in the studio with the recording devices all off, he'd felt the power of them so strongly he hadn't been able to hold back the tears. Now they felt like stories he told about a different person.
They walked off the small stage, following the familiar path to the green room. They'd played this bar for most of their shows, but Ryan was really starting to worry that the pitiful crowds they were pulling wouldn't be enough for much longer.
By the time they were up on stage playing the penultimate song of their set, Ryan wasn't even having fun. Music had never felt like a job for him before; it had always been a passion and a hobby. This felt like work. As he thanked the crowd and let them know this would be the last song they played, not that the audience seemed too sad to hear that, he saw Spencer standing in the wings. He was doing a good job of hiding in the shadows, and the crowd definitely wouldn't be able to see him, but Ryan's attention immediately went past him. He was not, in fact, alone. Ryan was torn between being happy to see Brendon's face, and feeling sick at the idea of singing this last song in front of him.
Sure, he'd changed some pronouns here and there to make it sound like it was about a girl, but there was no way Brendon didn't know it was about him. Ryan had managed to convince himself that Brendon wouldn't hear the song. At the time it had seemed plausible. They were hardly being played on the radio, and Brendon's life was so busy he rarely heard music other than the stuff he was singing each night. That seemed like a stupid notion now as he announced the name of the song and watched Brendon's expression darken. He clearly had heard of it.
Ryan played the song on autopilot, staring down at his feet for most of it. He couldn't keep the flush from spreading up his neck as he imagined what was going through Brendon's mind as he sung those words. Brendon probably thought he was some pathetic lovesick puppy who couldn't get over him. When the final note of the song rang out and the crowd gave a lukewarm round of applause, he felt about ready to die of embarrassment.
He waved to the crowd as Jon gave a more enthusiastic good bye, and they left the stage together. Spencer jumped on Jon the second he was within reach, kissing his face and mumbling about how great he did. Ryan felt himself smiling as he watched them, despite the fear in his gut about the man standing next to them.
When they finally broke apart, Jon clapped Brendon on the shoulder. "You made if after all! I thought you were too busy."
Brendon seemed very tense as he forced a smile at Jon. "Spencer wanted me to keep him company." He shot a glare at the man.
"Well also..." Spencer put one arm around Jon's shoulders and the other around Brendon's, looking back and forth between the two. "I wanted everyone to hear my brilliant idea at once." Jon looked intrigued while Brendon suddenly looked very apprehensive. "Bren already knows this part, but we're renting out a cabin for the band to stay in for a week while we're on break. And I was sitting around thinking about how sad it'll be that you won't be there, when I realized, hey, why can't you be there?" He was smiling like he'd just fixed world hunger. "You guys have a loose contract with this place, so you can take off a few weeks and come with us!"
Ryan wasn't sure if Spencer was including him in this plan, but judging from the murderous look Brendon had donned since the brilliant idea had been revealed, he really didn't want to be. Before he could get a full word of rebuttal out, Jon had already chimed in. "That is brilliant!" He kissed Spencer's cheek. "Ryan can come too, right?" He purposely addressed his question to Brendon, who seemed unable to deny the pleading looks Spencer and Jon were giving him.
He sighed deeply, and Ryan was very aware that his eyes hadn't come anywhere near Ryan during the length of this conversation. "Of course. The more, the merrier." He monotoned.
Jon let out a whoop before grabbing Spencer's face and smashing it against his own. Ryan glanced away from the couple and his eyes briefly met Brendon's, before Brendon turned on his heel and marched out of the building.