Ryden, Angst. Pg13 for language
Two boys sitting in the coffee shop. This place is not new. However, the feelings are.
The tall gangly boy stares down at his caramel coffee with a slight frown. How does the other not understand?
The shorter boy just stares accusingly at the other through deep, sad chocolate eyes.
Both wait for the first to speak.
"What about the band?" The shorter one asks his voice barely above a whisper.
"What about it? You can keep the name…the logo…whatever."
"Not what I meant…" Brendon can't help but feel angry than Ryan won't look up from his coffee and meet his stare. Instead that fucking hipster, that young, naïve stupid fuck just stirs another packet of sugar into that stupid mug. He contemplates picking it up and throwing it in the guitarists face but he instead just sits in shock.
"What do you want Bren? Take all the new material. You still have the notebook full of it." Ryan can't grasp the fact that Brendon doesn't understand the need for this. Both of them have been fighting for too long, their tastes just too different. He briefly thinks of looking up to see how Brendon is taking it, but he just can't fathom those stupid, selfish puppy eyes.
"Don't fucking call me that. You don't deserve to anymore." Brendon spits, fighting back tears.
"Don't get so fucking emotional over this. You knew the band couldn't last." Ryan picks up on the crack in his voice and the guilt swims through his body.
"Of course it couldn't. We're just the brain child of Wentz right? If his band failed, what chance do we have?" Brendon speaks sarcastically now, hating that the statement is true. Ryan snorts in reply.
Both sit in silence again. Both know this has nothing to do with the band. Brendon thinks of the throwing the cup again, Ryan thinks of looking up again. Both do nothing.
"What do you want me to say, Bren?" Ryan speaks first this time.
"I told you, stop calling me that," Brendon finally stops looking at Ryan and instead focuses on a small heart carved into the table, tracing it with his fingers. "I just want you to tell me the truth."
"What would you like that to sound like? Seeing as how you skew everything I say and twist into something else."
"This!" Brendon shouts now, slamming a fist against the heart on the table, causing Ryan's coffee to shake and spill slightly. "This is why you're fucking frustrated. You make everything so fucking negative and about you. It's never your sound, we forced you to write things a certain way, I forced you to stay over." A single tear slides down his cheek and Ryan forces himself to not wipe it away.
"You know damn well I'm never happy. I need to do my own thing, I can't be tied down!" Ryan speaks harshly, wiping the coffee off his fingers with a napkin.
"What about everything I gave you?"
"I'll give it back."
"You have something of mine I can't have back." Finally, both boys make eye contact. Brendon can't control the tears now; they spill down his cheeks like waterfalls. Ryan scowls hard, holding it together.
"Look. I loved you. I still love you. But…it's not who I am anymore. I was a crazy teen, reckless and wild. I didn't know what I was doing. I'm sorry for bringing you into that but I've learned my ways. This has to end." Ryan speaks nonchalantly, as if his reasoning is totally justified. He realizes he's breaking Brendon's heart but he acts like he doesn't care. Brendon doesn't know how much he can take.
"You know damn well what you were doing," Brendon whispers, wishing he could make the pain stop. Using the fork next to him, he scratches out the heart and feels slightly better. "So I guess this is it then?" He needs to get the hell out of there, go sob into a pillow, feel sorry for himself for a day or two, and get back up and show Ryan up.
"I guess so. Goodbye Bren." Ryan folds the napkin carefully into a small triangle, not looking up at Brendon as he stands to leave.
"Goodbye Ry." Brendon starts walking towards the door, fighting the urge to beg for Ryan back.
"At least I'll always have that something of yours to remember you by." Ryan smirks, knowing it was a low blow. Without a second thought, Brendon picks up the sugary mess of hot coffee and throws the liquid in Ryan's face before storming out the door.