After she left, Pete sat in his hotel and stared at the ceiling. He felt completely indifferent toward what happened between him and Ashlee. He didn't regret it, but he wasn't going to brag either. He kept trying to think about her, but his mind kept seeing Ryan. Why Ryan? Pete just didn't know what to make of the butterflies and the roller coaster emotions. He had to break it down:
The way he met Ryan was...unconventional at best. Pete was immediately attracted to the words he wrote. They were amazing, inspiring, and honest. He knew Ryan was a good looking kid, very marketable. But that was business so why couldn't he get Ryan's face out of his mind? Frustrated and confused, Pete stood and walked to the bathroom. He sat down on the toilet seat lid, ripped a piece of toilet paper off and sat it on the cold counter top. He fished in his pocket for a pen.
The application of lies is something a person needs to use in times like these. Times that leave you so backwards you don't know if you are lying or not. These lies only become obvious once you convince yourself that they are true. Convincing yourself that you don't need him is a lie. Convincing every one else that you don't need him is not a lie, at least not to them. You won't tell them because they won't believe it. You're not sure if you believe it. But, you don't want to live your life and look back at what you were feeling and realize that it wasn't a lie, it was in fact something you knew with your whole heart, with every fiber in your soul. Don't let it get away from you, you can't. You must keep it inside, but you mustn't lie anymore, not to yourself.
Pete sighed as he read and reread what he had just written. It was true; he could feel his stomach flip when he finally said the words out loud.
"I'm in love with Ryan." He looked right to his reflection in the mirror and just stared. Him, Pete, had real feelings for another man that were beyond something strictly platonic. He didn't lose anything inside of him, he hadn't changed at all he just had to stop lying. He thought it again, and it was true. Thinking back on the butterflies he felt the minute he saw the young boy, he chalked them up to excitement but had suddenly realized that it wasn't merely the thought of getting this kids talent heard, but it was him and him alone. It was his eyes and his smile; his naivety and all his bruises. It was trust that Pete had never known before, it was warmth that Pete had needed a long time ago. He smiled at his reflection. Why had it taken so long for him realize that the butterflies were real? This wasn't just some crazy sick feeling he always seemed to get in the pit of his stomach. This was it, that reason they write all those shitty love songs. He felt whole, he felt right, and he finally felt at peace with his warring mind. He heard a sudden crash outside the hotel room wall and it snapped him out of his epiphany. He reread what he wrote again.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed and stood up, flushing the toilet paper away. He may have been able to convince himself, but Ryan would probably run far away from him if he ever told him he wanted to be together for real. The rest of the band would probably try to convince him that these crazy feelings he was having for Ryan were just his meds fucking with his brain. Not to mention what everyone else would think. Pete had tried to live as much of his life as possible doing what he wanted to do because it was best for him and not caring about what everyone else wanted from him, but this was different. Being gay right now just wouldn't work, especially for a guy seven years younger then him who was his freaking employee.
Frustrated again, Pete stalked out of the bathroom and rummaged in his suitcase for his pills. He took one and sighed. He just wanted to not feel feelings right now; it was giving him a migraine. So he dumped half of the vile of pills into his hand and grabbed water out of the fridge. He choked the pills back and let them take a minute to affect him. He felt woozy after a while and lay down on the bed, glad he had the day off to not feel.