He pushes past her to leave the restroom, ignoring the fleeting image of those wide, sad eyes of hers, and that audible, painful gasp.
Brendon grins to himself as glances at his reflection after touching up his pirate makeup, giving a good adjustment to his ponytail wig. It is nearly two in the morning, but somehow, he is not tired; in fact, he is in an excellent mood, even though his date abandoned him for a Professor Snape impersonator... a very good Snape impersonator. Brendon shudders at the visual of the two of them together and immediately pushes the thought to the side as he leans over the sink, both hands around the marble, an eyebrow quirked at the mirror now. So, Saffron cares, not in that way, but in the bossy sisterly fashion; at any rate, it counts for something in his book.
The door to the restroom swings open and Brendon catches Ryan's reflection in the mirror, coming in to remove the dripping makeup off his cheeks. He grins as greeting, but Ryan merely gives him a half-smile, rubbing at his face with a paper towel. "Having fun?" His response is silence, but Brendon takes this as fatigue. "Alright, then. Tired?" More silence, though he is still undaunted as Ryan continues to rub at his face. "Fuck, are you bored?"
Ryan finally pauses to glance over at him and shrugs, grabbing another paper towel and running the tip under warm water.
Still, Brendon continues, playfully, wondering how long it will take him to pull Ryan out of this mood of his. "Did you see the look on Saffron's face when they started playing Hilary Duff?" he sniggered.
The mention of his girlfriend elicits a reaction from the taller boy and he curls his fingers around the faucet handles, poised to run the water again, though he keeps his hands still. "Do you have a thing for my girlfriend, or something?"
At this, Brendon freezes and his heart leaps into his throat for a moment, but he covers this well with a grin and a snort. "Fuck man, she /Saffron/," he replies quickly, rolling his eyes.
Ryan turns a steely gaze onto him. "You didn't answer the question."
For once in his life, Brendon is speechless- he cannot lie, not to one of his best friends and after keeping this from him so long... "What difference does it make?" he asks quietly, glancing away.
"What difference does it make?" Ryan repeats angrily, releasing the faucet and clenching his hands into fists for a moment as he stands up straight. "You fucking have feelings for my girlfriend. Were you planning on telling me or anything? Or were you just going to keep flirting with her until I noticed?"
Brendon takes a step back, having seen angered Ryan before. "Look, you don't understand-"
"/Don't understand?/ You're /you/- why couldn't you just let me win for once?"
"What are you fucking talking about?" he snaps in response, trying to quell his own rising anger. The tension in the room is so damn thick and he will give anything to just skip over the fight and continue onto the party.
Ryan continues to glare, unable to articulate the thoughts swirling in his mind- he was shy, Brendon was not, he was extremely skinny and awkward, Brendon was not. It all came down to his concealed insecurities, but he sure as hell was not prepared to spill all this to him, or any one else... not even her. The swing of the bathroom door shatters the tension as a wary Saffron peeks inside, the top of her head appearing over the side edge of the door. "Hello? Is everything alright?"
Ryan looks up at her, an imperceptible expression on his face, torn between anger and comfort. "Nothing," he mumbles, turning his gaze away from the girl.
Saffron swallows hard- she has heard everything, yet does not know how the hell to react or to figure a way out of this situation.
Brendon looks at her now, his eyes softening- no thoughts of unrequited romance, just utter relief to see her. He sighs and begins to stammer, "I didn't- I couldn't- I just- And /you/..."
"Here, you go," she replies, awkwardly patting his arm as he leaves the bathroom. Saffron then moves to stand behind Ryan, peeking at his reflection over his shoulder. "Ryan," she tries to say.
"/What?/" he snaps in response, keeping his eyes downcast as he pretends to study the mosaic tiles on the counter of the sink, "You probably had feelings for him, too."
"Don't place the blame on entirely on me," she snaps, "And so what if I did initially? I'm your girlfriend and not his."
"So, what? You just admitted that you had feelings for him too."
She wants to yell at him, to tell him about how ridiculous he is acting. Oh, he is as difficult as she is, and this conversation is confusing and going nowhere. She rubs her temples with the tips of her fingers, a sad look on her face.
"Don't be angry with me," Saffron replies, unusually calm, her eyes still fixed on the boy's reflection, as if willing him to look up and meet her gaze, "Please, just look at me." Ryan finally obliges, keeping his countenance impassive. She takes a shaky breath. "I don't want to get in the way of things."
He stands up straighter, eyes widening at this remark- and all this time, he had been expecting a break-up speech. "What?" he repeats, yet again.
"For fuck's sake, Ryan," Saffron laughs almost mirthlessly, arms crossed uncomfortably over her flat chest, "I'm just some stupid girl who lives her life by original cast recordings and student rush tickets. I'm not worth fighting over, believe me. Look, I know I might seem confident and all that, but if you're-if I'm just going to screw things up- Okay, I might be jumping the gun here, but I want to take precautions. I don't want to stand in the way of... things," she repeats; it was a painful speech to deliver, but she was not going to cause a band breakup.
No, he's supposed to reply, No, I love you and you're not stupid and you're amazing and I can't leave you behind. Those words do not matter for all he can think of is his girlfriend and his friend- together. "Well, if you really feel that way..." Ryan mutters instead, pushing past her to leave the restroom, ignoring the fleeting image of those wide, sad eyes of hers, and that audible, painful gasp. It's easier to end things this way, he tries to convince himself as he glances backwards at the closed restroom door.
No! This was not supposed to end like this, he was supposed to tug her into his arms and kiss her and tell her that they could work things out; she gave the perfect romantic heroine speech, didn't she? Didn't she? No, that isn't enough, not for him. Saffron lets out a sob, clutching at her stomach and leaning over the sink on one arm.
Maybe it was too good to be true.