”Ryan has a what?” Brendon’s voice rose into a higher pitch, as if he was straining his voice to prevent some emotion showing through. He was never very good at lying, or concealing how he really felt- so straight after his astounded exclamation, his feigned attempt at seeming indifferent to this news was pointless. Nevertheless, he paused for a second, stared at Spencer, tried not to look or sound too bothered. Why should he be? It wasn’t like it would affect him. It wasn’t like he cared what- or who- Ryan did. A girlfriend, Bren. Brendon blinked, and it settled in finally- Spencer wasn’t joking, Ryan had actually gone out and found a girl who liked him (well, that was debatable- Brendon scornfully expected her to only be with him because he was in the band, not that he cared in Ryan’s behalf), and they were... Dating. Ryan was dating a girl. Brendon couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. ”C’mon, Spence, you’re telling me Ryan is straight?” In Brendon’s defence, Spencer did look kind of doubtful in reflection, and Brendon watched, adamant, as he glanced over at Jon, who just shrugged and giggled a little. ”What’s so funny?” Brendon demanded, setting his jaw, his effort to seem nonchalant having failed within seconds. Jon bit his lip to stop a smirk and shrugged one shoulder, while Spencer turned his face away slightly.

He’s bi, actually, Spencer offered, and Brendon just scoffed, sitting back resignedly into the couch and raising his eyebrows. ”You gotta be kidding me. There isn’t a heterosexual bone in that guy’s body.” Okay, apparently he’d given up on looking unaffected, because Brendon was clearly irritated about something, staring off past Spencer and Jon who were exchanging confused, but equally amused glances. ”He’s kidding himself.” Well, they’ve been dating for a couple of weeks already, he just didn’t tell us, Jon piped up, cracking his knuckles absently and looking up at the roof of the bus, squinting. Probably because he knew you’d have something to say about it. Brendon opened his mouth to argue, then shut it decidedly, furrowing his brow. Jon was smiling again, he could see from the corner of his eye, but Spencer seemed a little concerned, even though his eyebrows were raised. ”What?” Brendon snapped, glaring from Jon to Spencer accusingly. Why do you care so much, Brendon? I thought you wanted ‘nothing to do with him beyond playing on stage’. Spencer used air quotes and Brendon almost threw his phone at him, but managed to refrain from doing so.

”I don’t care about him,” Brendon pointed out, clenching his fists so his hands turned white just thinking about that fucking asshole. ”He’s a dickhead, and if he wants to pretend he’s straight or whatever, let him get on with it.” Clearly bitter and resorting to some questionably low blows, Spencer looked ready to jump in and reprimand him, probably on the cusp of saying some shit about ‘assuming people’s sexuality’, but come on. Jon and Spencer weren’t stupid. They’d seen the way Ryan looked at and talked about men, the way Ryan looked at Brendon- generally and primarily with annoyance at best and hatred at worst, sure, but nobody in the band was a complete idiot. Brendon just shot Spencer a pointed look, and Spencer fell short before he spoke, clearly beaten. ”Anyway, yeah, I’m just concerned about the poor girl he managed to drag along for a ride,” He continued, though really he didn’t care at all. ”What’s her name?” Spencer was looking on helplessly, as if he wanted to quell Ryan’s apparent eternally burning loathesome feelings towards Ryan, and didn’t really hear Brendon’s question.

Brendon and Ryan had detested eachother from the moment Brendon joined the band. Spencer had brought him in to be the singer when Spencer and Jon decided that a new, more confident vocalist was probably best- and instead of talking with Ryan about it, they just sort of introduced this new guy and expected Ryan to just step down in his place. Obviously Ryan wasn’t too happy about it, didn’t like Brendon’s attitude, and equally Brendon found his arrogance and pretentiousness infuriating. They were constantly at each other’s throats, and though musically they collaborated, composed and performed extremely well, in complete tune, outside of that they could barely stand being in the same room without starting some kind of argument. Poor Spencer and Jon kept the peace to a certain extent, but sometimes they just considered ending the band- but it was their baby, and management wasn’t going to let them kick Ryan or Brendon out, because they were both so vital to the musical process and the face of the band itself. So they were stuck in a limbo, in an environment that would be endlessly toxic if not for Spencer and Jon making it infinitely more peaceful than it would be if Ryan and Brendon were left alone.

Whenever it couldn’t be helped, though, there was a tension between Brendon and Ryan that wasn’t entirely just anger. They were both obviously immediately attracted to eachother and that never went away- just existed alongside the antagonising and the mockery, always subtextual but incredibly obvious, especially to their bandmates. This was why Spencer and Jon were laughing at Brendon when he said he didn’t care- when he was clearly incredibly jealous. Her name is Keltie, Jon finally cut in, and Brendon clicked his tongue, wondering where he’d heard the name before. Then his expression turned foul and he shook his head. Ew. Ryan and Keltie had been dating for two weeks, if he knew Ryan they’d probably already... God, Brendon was itching all over, and he was close to the tipping point when the tour bus door opened and in came his majesty himself, Ryan, with his new girlfriend on his arm. Brendon felt himself prickle and stared the guitarist down immediately before nodding at his girlfriend and then looking sharply away, down at his lap, while Ryan turned to greet Spencer and Jon. Keltie, this is Spencer, Jon... A pause, and a giggle from Keltie, a smirk from Ryan that Brendon could hear in his voice. ...And this is Brendon. Looking up, Brendon leaned back against the couch, and raised an eyebrow. ”So, Ryan, you’re straight now?”

Ryan had a girlfriend. She'd been a dancer for one of their award show performances, elegant and definitely beyond all of the greasy ass band members but giving him the time of day nonetheless. All of them had been in pretty ridiculous costumes, and of course Ryan so wisely chose to approach her in the stupid baroque, almost flouncy getup they'd put him in, picking someone pretty and blonde from the line and going with his impulse: ask one of the cute dancers out. It wasn't a great sentiment, but he was realizing he was young and being single was probably what made him so chaotic - he only had three other guys to turn to if he was having a rough time, anything that needed support. And anyway the only person he was attracted to, he also sort of majorly hated eighty percent of the time, so he needed to get over that. Or not get over it and just ignore the problem, whatever, same thing. A girlfriend might help.

Hey, he could even get something long term out of it - or he thought that could be a possibility at the time. But from everyone, he picked Keltie to ask, simply because she was the only one who returned anything close to a look of interest and acted telltale shy around him, and then when they actually started talking, they seemed to hit it off. She thought he was precious or whatever - Ryan didn't get it, he wasn't 'strange and sweet' and hadn't been that to anyone before, he was just him - and he thought she was witty, beautiful, talented, but that was about all they were to each other. It became clear within the first few days that that was all they would ever be, too, but it wasn't causing any huge problems, and Ryan was having fun anyway, fuck 'long term' when he could experiment all he wanted now. Certainly Keltie was on the same page, because neither of them turned down opportunities for the other, or anything that would indicate something serious. Careers were still priority, they were in a safe zone.

She also served as something of a distraction, although that, of course, wasn't what he originally intended them to be. His life was normally dominated by having to create, create, create, or, inevitably, Brendon. Those were about the only two things that usually mattered. Either he was torturing himself over what the next 'big thing' was in his music, what was the next album going to be, how were they going to get bigger - or he was thinking about the little fucker that was probably, unfortunately, the answer to all of those questions. When Brendon joined the band he was obviously needed. Ryan could sing, he just didn't have a powerful voice. He wasn't meant for pop music or really anything beyond gentle acoustic sounds, something soft, easy listening. But when the kid they brought in to replace him without consulting him at all turned out to be both endlessly annoying and infuriatingly better than him at everything, yeah, he sort of had an issue.

Ryan didn't always have much of a frontman's energy, but Brendon made him want it so desperately that he turned up the arrogance factor as far as it could go, so much so that he was now perpetually in competition with the actual frontman. Who could write the best lyrics (he always criticized Brendon's until he was genuinely upset), who could outplay the other (Brendon was a fucking good guitar player, too, so Ryan pretended to find fault with his chords until it hurt), who got the most credit on the album (which unfortunately extended to the other members, and Ryan only stopped nonsensically preaching about how he 'fucking did everything anyway' when Spencer was looking at him judgmentally), so on. If it wasn't that, they were bickering over who used whose coffee mug, or who took the last whatever, or who was getting a certain bunk even though it didn't matter at all. And the worst part that he was irritatingly attractive. Beautiful, actually, just about any positive physical descriptor, and it made Ryan so much angrier about everything.

He was funny, and his smile lit up the room, and his hair was pretty much always perfect even if he had some questionable phases of style there for a bit, and it all sucked big time. Ryan probably would've even done something about his attraction if he wasn't so soulcrushingly jealous about his role being taken, and being done so much infinitely better at that. On the plus side, he knew Brendon felt the same- or. Not knew, but he was very sure, and Spencer and Jon backed him up even if they laughed about their dynamic on the side. They'd cast tense, searching glances at each other when one wasn't looking, and behind every argument there was a fire that was definitely separate from the malicious one, etc.; it was clear to sense the subtext beneath it all, basically. Ryan knew it was awful to parade her around, but he knew if he brought Keltie to his attention, it'd kill him. One more tally to add to Ryan's side of this unspoken competition.

So he did. It took her some convincing - 'no, the bus is so crowded, they wouldn't want me there,' 'oh, of course they do, they've been dying to get to know you,' so forth - but he successfully got Keltie from her hotel to the tour bus in time to catch all three of the guys at once, although only one was really important to bear witness to his new relationship. Ryan made sure to step on with his elbow hooked around her waist possessively, hugging her close to his side once they were on. Spencer and Jon seemed to know it was best to stay protectively nearest to the door, like there needed to be some sort of wall between him and Brendon, so he addressed them first. "Hey, guys. Keltie, this is Spencer, Jon..." Ryan smiled, well-mannered, while they stood to meet her, exchanging 'hey's in varied excitement and shaking hands, and looked over the trio to Brendon, gaze narrowing. "...And this is Brendon." His voice took on a cold edge that Keltie seemed to pick up on, because she didn't go out of her way to meet him in a handshake like she had with Spencer and Jon. Then, they'd done that for her - Brendon wasn't. Rude.

Ryan met his critical brow with an equivalent one, awaiting whatever snark he had coming. So, Ryan, you’re straight now? Ryan rolled his eyes, and aside, Spencer and Jon were dropping back to their seats, clearly melancholy. Thankfully they'd learned that stepping in was pretty pointless. "Well, are you worried you missed your chance?" He still had on this polite smile, probably the only thing keeping a concerned-looking Keltie from bolting while he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Sorry. You don't seem like you would've been my type, anyway." He paused, tilted his head. "Actually, Brendon, are you anyone's type? You haven't dated at all since you joined. That's a shame, really."

Though it was hard to believe when you looked at them now, always tense and argumentative, theirs backs always up defensively around eachother, Brendon hadn’t immediately hated Ryan for no reason. Spencer, their mutual friend, had approached him because of his knowledge of his skills as a vocalist and proposed that he joined their increasingly successful but still small-time band, and Brendon had, of course, agreed; he was young, he had always dreamed of a career doing music (he didn’t know what he’d do otherwise), this was his opportunity. What Spencer didn’t tell him was that he’d be replacing somebody- he just figured they didn’t have a permanent vocalist- and when he practically crashed into Ryan head-first (Brendon was hyperactive and generally unaware of his surroundings at all time), it was an awkward conversation, because Spencer and Jon hadn’t even brought it up to Ryan beforehand. Under the pressure of his bandmates, Ryan very reluctantly caved and then immediately stormed off; the whole time, Brendon had hung around awkwardly after apologising profusely for almost knocking Ryan over. So they didn’t have a very good start on Ryan’s end- Brendon almost floored him and then immediately after he was informed that there was a plan to replace him behind his back. Sure, he was still lead guitarist- but it wasn’t the same, and Brendon did feel guilty, and awkward, for a long time.

But it wasn’t really Brendon’s fault, in his eyes, so eventually he became sick of Ryan complaining and started snapping back, becoming a little arrogant about his new placement as frontman and the band’s correlating increased success. This, in turn, rubbed Ryan the completely wrong way- if Brendon had been a little more considerate, maybe apologised, worked things over and out, they wouldn’t be in such a bad place, but Brendon was fiery and stubborn and would never admit that he was wrong. So he became cocky, and overconfident, and similarly, Ryan’s bruised ego managed to superficially inflate and they locked horns all the time over lyricism, musical talent, popularity, even petty things like accusations about misplaced items on the tour bus. It all escalated from there, and soon after they first even met, Brendon and Ryan absolutely despised eachother, to the despair of Spencer and Jon, their long-suffering, completely innocent bandmates. Brendon had spoken to Spencer in private, he said he had no regrets due to their success with Brendon as the frontman; but then he’d also spoken to Jon, who said that Ryan told him that Spencer was talking about how he ‘missed the old times’ when it was just the three of them. That alone made Brendon prickle with insecurity- the feud between him and Ryan was almost a power struggle, and for some reason he believed that only one of them could remain in the band long-term or else it would all fall apart.

Alongside this bad blood born from an unfortunate introduction and unfortunate circumstances was something else, a distinctly different side of their relationship, though the lines were blurred; a magnetism, a strong subtextual hint that the fire and passion between them wasn’t always an angry one, even if that was the most obvious conclusion to make. To outsiders of their personal relationship (they tended to have good chemistry on stage) it would just seem like anger, frustration, irritation- but to those who knew them better, who looked a little closely, who spent most of their time with them, like Spencer and Jon, it was laughable how obvious they wanted eachother. Brendon vehemently denied it, spat insults at Ryan, hackles rising whenever somebody even slightly suggested that they thought something was going on- defensive behaviour of someone who had something to hide. Luckily, he knew that Ryan felt pretty much the same (he wasn’t stupid, and Spencer and Jon, who were always honest, kept their mouths suspiciously shut whenever he talked airily about it), so it wasn’t all bad. Alone, they still bickered and argued about everything under the sun, but the tension between them was electric and different and exciting.

So it wasn’t all bad, even if they still despised eachother most of the time- Brendon was the frontman of an increasingly successful band, his relationship with Jon and Spencer was strong and they were close, it wasn’t like he was lonely or upset that Ryan clearly wanted little to do with him. Actually- that wasn’t right. Ryan wanted everything to do with him as long as it was to drive him fully around the bend, get on his nerves, rile him up. And Brendon knew that was exactly what Ryan intended to do now, using his new girlfriend as a chess piece to provoke a reaction from Brendon, some kind of anger or jealousy that would be, in a word, humiliating. It worked. Ryan swanned in with his pretty, blonde girlfriend (he definitely had a type when it came to women, even if Brendon knew that he wasn’t even with women that often, comparatively, which he immediately wanted to point out), and Brendon bristled immediately even though he knew about it, he prepared himself. But there the fucker was, arm around Keltie, holding her close against his side, and he was mad at her, because the way she reacted to Ryan’s pointed, barbed introduction lead him to believe that Ryan had already fed her Poison, mocked him beyond redemption. Brendon stared at Ryan, fully unsurprised that he’d gone to these lengths just to get Brendon’s back up.

He watched sullenly as Ryan pleasantly introduced her, and picked at the upholstery of the chair he was slumped in, before straightening up almost defensively and not wasting any more time in stirring up trouble. If Ryan wanted a reaction, he’d he one. Well, are you worried you missed your chance? Brendon scoffed- because even if that was true, he knew Ryan better than Ryan thought he did, Keltie and him were clearly a temporary thing, it was obvious. ”You have no idea,”- He draped himself dramatically over the couch- ”How much I wish it were me in Kelties shoes. He’s all bone, darling, watch yourself.” Brendon sat up straighter, crossed one leg over the other, and flashed Ryan a malicious grin, waiting for his inevitable next dig. Sorry. You don’t seem like you would’ve been my type, anyway. Faux-woefully, he shook his head again, and sadly shrugged a shoulder. Was this the best he could do? Brendon caught Ryan’s eye, his own glare glinting with something like amusement, telling him silently that he knew all of that was bullshit, Ryan wanted him. And yet, he was still hellishly jealous.

Actually, Brendon, are you anyone’s type? He looked up sharply, his muscles tensing. You haven’t dated at all since you joined. Inhaling, Brendon curled his hand into a fist and dragged his other one stiffly though his hair, before he let go of it and relaxed his muscles with an exhale. ”I haven’t dated, no,” He said delicately, attempting to look bored. ”I don’t feel the need, because I’m not fucking desperate.”

Okay, yeah, it was unfair that things had ended up the way they were between Brendon and Ryan. Unfair to Brendon, that is. Actually, it was kind of sad - he came in excited and enthusiastic about this new opportunity, a potentially life-changing deal from Spencer, only to find that he was part of what Ryan perceived as a scheme between the drummer and bassist. It wasn't his fault that he was a more practiced, skilled singer, more suited for their sound and production. It also wasn't his fault that he, typical ball of energy Brendon, practically barreled into Ryan when they first met, but still it pissed the former frontman off even more than just learning he was being replaced would have. Usually his patience wasn't so short, honestly, but apparently time spent in the favored spotlight had changed that fact; now he got ridiculously aggressive at one man alone at the drop of a hat. And, even worse, seeing Brendon get guilty over things that weren't on him in the first place made it all better.

Ryan's vengefulness that started out as him taking it all out on Brendon with little to no repercussions (maybe the odd instance of Spencer snapping at him in defense of Brendon, not much else) was eventually matched, though, and that's when matters got much worse. They weren't good before - Ryan attacked Brendon whenever he got the chance, telling him to start over on a song if he messed up even slightly, rejecting ninety percent of the ideas he brought to writing sessions, so on. Now, with Brendon sending it right back, clocking Ryan on the fact that he only screamed at every mistake because he was jealous that there were so few in comparison to his own singing, knowing full well his ideas were good and deserved to be heard and therefore writing completely separate songs to present to unbiased parties, and more, it was worse. It was better than him standing idly by while getting practically harassed by the former singer, though; at least this way Ryan's attitude, all over a little bit of a hit to his ego, wasn't going unchecked.

Brendon looked morose through introductions, which was great, but Ryan could probably do better than that. So he pushed harder - and Brendon quickly got defensive. Everyone else in the room, naturally, looked either vaguely horrified or like they wanted desperately to leave, or both, all just contained out of politeness. You have no idea how much I wish it were me in Keltie's shoes. Ryan's smug expression dropped and he scowled at the way Brendon stretched out, languid, over his seat, like none of this was a big deal anymore. No way, he wasn't allowed to feel fine about everything, fuck that. He’s all bone, darling, watch yourself. Ryan sucked in a breath like he was about to respond to that just as smartly, but he had nothing. And just saying 'fuck you' like he wanted to instinctively seemed like a weak replacement, so. He stayed silent, setting his jaw and glaring at the way Brendon gradually looked more self-satisfied until he could actually grace him with a reply.

For a moment he was a little scared; Brendon clearly knew the first 'type' comment was bullshit. If anything, Brendon was almost completely his type, if only he wasn't such an annoying asshole. Or, well, if he didn't have a musical talent surpassing his own, then he'd probably be fine. Ryan would probably even be pursuing him, actually. But it was dangerous when Brendon knew that, which he clearly did, sending a telltale look his way and potentially clueing Keltie in to the exact depth of their weird as hell relationship; Ryan tried to move on fast without addressing it directly. His deflection seemed to get to Brendon more effectively, and Ryan smiled again, pleased with himseld. I haven’t dated, no. Ryan nodded understandingly, looking sympathetic, totally seeing past the bored look on his face. Aside, the rest of the band was exchanging looks, Keltie still deeply uncomfortable.

I don’t feel the need, because I’m not fucking desperate. Jon rose, upbeat, and clapped his hands together, approaching and guiding Keltie away by the shoulder while he said something about giving her a tour around the bus. Ryan's arm easily lifted off her waist, gaze not moving from Brendon while she and Jon spared them last glances. "Not desperate? Weird. I've always thought you acted about as desperate and petulant as humanly possible. Is it just your personality?" He paused, considering the question for himself, then waved a hand, dismissive, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He shrugged one shoulder, nonchalant. "Maybe you're only like that around me, though. 'Cause clearly it's killing you to see me with her, right." Okay, maybe not a smart move pulling that card, but. Ryan didn't really think this stuff through when it came to trying to out-insult Brendon.

Maybe if their introduction had gone better, Brendon and Ryan’s relationship would be completely different- much more positive, and since the electricity between them apparently wasn’t hindered by mutual hatred, it was likely that it would be present. Then again, there was something about the angry tension between them that fired them up even more; Brendon tried not to think about it, tried not to think about how it would be if things played out differently. There was no point- Ryan was a pretentious motherfucker with a bruised ego and Brendon had a sense of arrogance, embers of overconfidence that had been tempered into an inferno by Ryan’s constant attempts to antagonise him. Now, Brendon had no desire to try and ‘fix’ their relationship, or try and create some kind of friendship, because his distaste for the guitarist was now so strong. In the beginning, Spencer had told Ryan to stop (Jon wasn’t around til later- their original bassist had nothing to do with any of it and eventually got fed up of the constant bickering), but now there was no point. Musically, the band functioned, and they put on good shows. In the end, that was what was important.

Brendon was no longer guilty, either, because in his eyes, Ryan was just completely full of himself; always criticising Brendon about everything- his skills (or lack thereof, according to Ryan) on the guitar, his lyrics (Ryan had written all of them for their only album, and whenever Brendon tried to contribute creatively he was shut down, like Ryan was scared of losing that area of control), even his vocals when Ryan was feeling particularly confident and sure of himself. Brendon never took it to heart for the latter, because he had the perfect retaliation. Sorry, Ryan, who’s the lead vocalist? Who’s the frontman? He would say, and Ryan would shut up and just continue glaring at him, clearly burningly envious of his talents. It wasn’t like Ryan couldn’t sing, and Brendon knew this, no matter how much he said otherwise; his voice just wasn’t as powerful, as confident as Brendon’s, and it just didn’t really fit with the overconfident lyrics that Ryan had written about infidelity and religion and jealousy and revenge. Brendon secretly thought they were brilliant, if a little over the top. For songs such as Lying Is the Most Fun, when he performed live he would almost mock them with his tone, flashing amused looks over at a clearly irritated Ryan.

Is it still me that makes you sweat- Brendon would pointedly send a look over at the disgruntled guitarist, and usually Ryan was intentionally looking away, clearly sick of Brendon’s playful attitude. Haven’t you heard that I’m the new cancer- Brendon would slyly throw smirks at Ryan- Never looked better, and you can’t stand it. He hammed it up as much as he could, because even if these weren’t lyrics, they weren’t even written about him, it was funny how they related to their situation, and Ryan needed no prompting to understand that a lot of the time, Brendon’s smug vocals were directed towards him. After shows, Brendon would be riding the adrenaline rush and Ryan would have his back up, defensive and ready to snap at even the slightest indication that Brendon was mocking him. At this point, though Brendon could be equally malicious, he never really started it. He just sure as hell tried to finish it, and if the opportunity arose, he’d take it.

It was difficult to make fun of him, though, when he had his new girlfriend held close to his side, his elbow hooked around her waist. Brendon had narrowed his eyes just a little and examined the way they stood together. He wished it was just a way to make him jealous, he hoped Ryan wasn’t actually that into her, but unfortunately, it seemed to him that they did like eachother. She barely took her eyes off him, and Brendon felt a little sick with jealousy, then with anger. Son of a bitch. Even though he knew it wouldn’t really last long (Ryan had a pattern, and they were both young with no real intention of settling), he was achingly jealous, and it made him so mad. He hated Ryan, but- somehow, he felt betrayed, because he knew just how much Ryan wanted him. It was obvious. So why the hell was he with Keltie? Brendon’s jaw set through the initial introductions, but now he felt like he was about to snap, and tried to keep his comebacks sharp and short as possible. Not desperate? Weird. I've always thought you acted about as desperate and petulant as humanly possible. God, that motherfucker. Brendon remained looking nonchalant, but his teeth were clenched together as he flashed Ryan a fake smile. Is it just your personality? Brendon paused, shifted, tilted his head. ”Maybe you just want it to be.”

Maybe you're only like that around me, though. Brendon’s gaze flickered over to where Jon was leading Keltie wisely away from the scene and out of the crossfire. He then looked back at Ryan, suddenly without his girlfriend stuck at his hip. He tried not to look too amused, and said in a hushed, knowing voice- ”You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Brendon bit his lip, sitting up a little and pushing his hair back out of his eyes to regard his bandmate more critically. Who was he even kidding? ’Cause clearly it’s killing you to see me with her, right. Brendon’s stretched his mouth into a thin line, and scowled for a split second before he decided not to grace that with a reply. Breezy, he stood up suddenly, taking the few short steps to close the gap between them, stepping by at the last minute to walk past him, hand brushing against his side- definitely accidentally. He turned at the door, tilting his head a little to look up at him. ”Seeing as you’re so concerned, maybe I’ll start dating. Not like I don’t have options. Have fun with your girlfriend, dickhead.”

They were now in constant competition for not just the best vocalist, best guitarist, best lyricist, whatever - sometimes Ryan even got brave and told him he was shit on the piano or came for something else he was obviously masterful at - but also for who could maintain said competition, who could keep the ball rolling on making the other feel badly. Of course they never actually seemed to hurt each others' feelings; maybe in the beginning Ryan could get to Brendon because he hadn't come into the band expecting to be attacked at every turn for no real reason, obviously, so he probably actually took the criticism to heart. Now, though, Brendon's voice was responsible for them selling hundreds of thousands more records in comparison to how much they sold before him, so obviously when Ryan told him he 'couldn't sing for shit, why was he here,' it was completely untrue. Or, when they were selling out shows now rather than just making a reasonable turnout, it became clear that Ryan's constant 'no one likes you, you don't belong here' spiel was bullshit. All of that and more, really - they weren't hurting one another more than petty annoyance.

The push and pull, it seemed like, peaked here, and Ryan was over the moon with joy. Brendon looked like he was ready to snap, shoved to the edge finally, and Ryan couldn't wait for whatever outburst it was to come - or maybe he'd break down rather than out. Either way, definitely a win. Ryan relished in holding the upper hand as long as he could, meeting Brendon's fake as hell smile with a tiny one of his own... difference being that his wasn't really fake or even forced. Maybe you just want it to be. "Ouch," he returned sarcastically, crossing his arms with them newly freed by Jon. Either Brendon was running out of material or Ryan had actually gotten to him. That was the ultimate goal in these typical confrontations, anyway - see who could get under whose skin most effectively and most quickly. Spencer seemed like he wanted to disrupt that contest before it got too catastrophic, but of course he had no idea how, so instead Ryan bore with the feeling of his tired eyes stuck on him from the lounge couch.

Ryan subtly alluded to the subtext they never seemed to want to talk about, feeling more bold now that his girlfriend was halfway across the bus examining the bunks alongside Jon with genuine interest. Brendon, though, looked more at ease, and as a clear result, Ryan was almost unsettled, regarding him more carefully as if he were a ticking time bomb. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? There it was. The change in his tone, the words themselves, Brendon biting his lip when Ryan definitely had a thing for his mouth in general - undoubtedly a deadly cocktail. Ryan hated him because he probably knew it, too. Ryan's face changed for a discernible moment, eyebrows going slack and smug smile fading slightly, and he had no idea what to say to that other than something stupid and dismissive that would hold no power. Fuck. He paused, then heard Keltie's voice faint from across the bus, saw Spencer taking his cue to leave from the corner of his eye, and came back to reality, scowling at Brendon again. Not as good as looking self-satisfied, but he couldn't muster it back up.

He rendered Brendon speechless next, evidenced by the way he grew quiet again and then actually got up. Wow, it was rare Ryan could actually argue him out of a room this quickly. The smirk came back, thank god, and he watched him intently, a gleam in his eyes. Brendon came too close but Ryan focused on him even as they brushed against one another, turning his shoulder as if he were affronted and then his entire body to watch him exit. Unfortunately, Brendon stopped at the door, and Ryan's only comfort was the fact that he had to actually look up to meet his gaze. Seeing as you’re so concerned, maybe I’ll start dating. Not like I don’t have options. A confusing slew of emotions followed that. Something like 'oh shit nononono' passed through his head, and Ryan made a point to ignore it, immediately making a flippant 'tch' sound and shrugging one shoulder. Have fun with your girlfriend, dickhead.

Almost reflexively, Ryan grabbed his arm, barely in control of the way his hand shot out on a hair trigger. And then, not expecting his body's instinct reaction to seeing arch-enemy-frontman, he wasn't sure whether to pull him back fully into the bus or push him the rest of the way through the door, so Ryan went with the easiest option; he shoved him out and followed closely, the death vice on his arm serving to keep him steady and relatively balanced all the same. There was really no point in switching from in to out, but. If he was leaving anyway, Ryan was going to prolong the exit, not let him have the last word. "Oh, yeah? What are your options? You gonna pay someone?" One corner of his mouth lifted, amused by the thought, and he took his hand away to cross his arms over his chest as if thoughtful. "It's not like anyone would stick around for free, obviously. There's not much to redeem all of -" Ryan nodded at him up and down, insinuating. "- this. Oh, and, you know, the emotional baggage of you being obsessed with your guitarist even though he's got a girlfriend. Not sure anyone would want to be with that."

/

Brendon knew deep down just how much of an asset he really was to the band and how much more popular it had become since he joined and wrestled the coveted role of frontman from Ryan’s cold, dead hands- but for some reason, as much as he was confident especially of his vocal talents, Ryan’s constant criticisms wore him down and seeped through the cracks of his outwardly self-assured exterior. He wasn’t sure what it was- when he’d joined, fresh-faced, just new blood for the music industry, he didn’t have much mettle to begin with, just pure unharnessed youthful energy and enthusiasm. Ryan’s constant and merciless mocking and insults dressed up as constructive criticism had forced him to build up a self-defensive wall, and all but completely destroyed any confidence he had in writing- he’d never considered himself an incredible lyricist and he doubted he ever would be but, god, had he tried, and Ryan had just kicked down the foundations and watched him crumble because he was passed that somebody was a better singer than he was, more charismatic, more frontman-friendly altogether.

After a while it became easy to ignore because Ryan’s harsh words and their borderline violent fights became oversaturated and it always ended up the same, they’d almost come to physical blows and then they’d both back off, coaxed by whatever third party tried to intervene before things got too serious. Brendon really consider just punching the fucking smirk off his face sometimes but then it’d ruin the Van for good and Spencer and Jon didn’t deserve that. They didn’t sign up for such pointless drama when they enlisted Brendon’s help in the band- all they wanted was somebody more suited to the songs and more up to the challenge of fronting a very theatrical live band, and instead their lives were made more difficult as they had to both manage the band and look after two perpetually fighting toddlers only they wanted to kill eachother. It was a routine, soon- even comfortable because it was familiar- but even though Ryan was running out of material and some insults lacked bite nowadays due to repetition, he still knew just what buttons to press and Brendon hated it.

So he tried to give back as good as he got. Ouch. Brendon watched him cross his arms, bitterly recalling how just before they’d been wrapped around Keltie’s waist, wound around her, he was doing it on purpose, showing her off just to get a rise out of Brendon, he knew it. At first he told himself he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction but when he saw them walk into the bus all that sensibility went immediately out of the window. Because of his anger and frustration, he couldn’t quite come up with particularly affecting insults and Ryan’s reaction to that infuriated him even further. He would be hurting in a minute, if Brendon decided to swing for his fucking jaw. Ryan might’ve been considerably taller but Brendon had more muscle and figured he was stronger. It’d be like snapping a toothpick. These thoughts calmed him a little but he stayed silent, going back to his original plan of not satisfying Ryan with some kind of grand spectacle of rage. He just rose and strolled over, his knuckles clenched and white, and brushed intentionally past Ryan as he walked towards the exit of the bus. He then turned and made a remark about dating- to which Ryan reacted not as he had expected but how he had hoped.

He was admittedly alarmed when Ryan’s hand shot out and tightened in a vice grip around his arm, and his eyes widened as he staggered backwards out of the bus, held in balance by Ryan and clearly for his benefit, not for the benefit of Brendon not falling. So much for him being stronger, he thought bitterly. Oh, yeah? What are your options? You gonna pay someone? Brendon yanked his arm away defiantly as Ryan let go and crossed his arms over his chest. He really did want to wipe that smartass fucking smile off his face. ”Oh, please. I could get them to pay me if I wanted to. You’re so sexually confused that you’d be first on my damn doorstep,” He spat, rubbing the arm that Ryan had held onto. It’s not like anyone would stick around for free, obviously. Brendon sneered, already knowing where this was going. There’s not much to redeem all of this. Brendon raised his eyebrows as Ryan looked him fully up and down. It was almost laughable how he dug his own damn grave. ”That’s right, motherfucker, take a good look. It’s all you’re ever gonna get. Die mad about it.”

Oh, and, you know, the emotional baggage of you being obsessed with your guitarist even though he's got a girlfriend. Not sure anyone would want to be with that. He scoffed, wringing his hands together all the same. He just wanted to be left alone. ”Don’t flatter yourself. And anyway- are you sure it’s a girlfriend? How many have you had before that poor girl you’re whisking along now with your sad damaged English dropout act? I heard you’ve got some on the side. How about that? That true?” He cast a venomous glare back towards the bus. ”Maybe Keltie would like to know about Jac, and Helena, and...”

Yeah, yeah, they hated each other, they took every opportunity to show it, but. Sometimes. Sometimes Ryan was afraid he'd gone a little too far. Of course, most peoples' 'too far' would quantify as a physical fight, something that would actually visibly hurt, but for someone like Ryan - shrimpy enough to have maybe a 10% chance of winning any given confrontation, intelligent enough to know exactly the most biting thing to say and which weak points to aim for when he was saying it - the psyche was a powerful battleground of choice. Brendon might take too long to come up with a comeback and he'd have divided feelings about that; joy that it'd struck true, worry that maybe Brendon was actually believing the bullshit. Worse, in the early days, Brendon didn't have responses for him, nothing that held up anyway. He didn't know Ryan, really, wasn't as comfortable being as cutting as he was right away, wasn't prepared for immediate backfire. He didn't want to make him... permanently insecure, or whatever, because the majority of - if not all the time - Ryan was just mad he couldn't accomplish what Brendon was. Fuck wanting and not wanting, though. If he was honest with himself, he knew he'd already made a fairly deep wound.

So, Ryan didn't care. Not out loud, not in actions, that is. But he sort of gave a shit whether or not Brendon really took anything to heart - Ryan himself didn't care what Brendon had to throw at him, he was self-aware, knew when something was true and when Brendon was pulling insults out of his ass just to keep the ball rolling. He watched closely, recently, just to be sure, because when he wasn't trying not to, Brendon tended to wear his expressions honestly, and. Really, Ryan didn't actually mean to hurt him. He never knew what to do with himself when he realized he'd struck a real nerve. Actually, the conversation usually ended there. Right now he could tell was just bullshit - incredibly surface-level for them, in fact, considering no one had analyzed the other's childhood and 'maybe that's why you are the way you are now' or 'look, I found a replacement for you,' so on.

Ryan kind of half-laughed at the sight of Brendon standing, arms crossed, looking slightly caught off guard, relished in it. He let his shoulders drop when his hand came back to him, relaxing as much as he could when he was, admittedly, fairly tense. Always was around Brendon. Oh, please. I could get them to pay me if I wanted to. You’re so sexually confused that you’d be first on my damn doorstep. Ryan watched him rub his arm, smirking. Maybe Brendon's words would've actually gotten to him if he didn't look a little too childish to be taken seriously at the moment. "Keep telling yourself that. It's cute that you hang on to such far-out dreams, though." He knew he was stupid to even respond, because obviously Brendon wasn't totally in the wrong. Maybe not first at his door, because Ryan had too much pride, and maybe not the doorstep. Maybe knocking at the side window, or something, with an excuse to get inside. He wasn't head over heels, like that exact verbage seemed to imply, he just checked Brendon out a little too frequently to be normal.

That’s right, motherfucker, take a good look. It’s all you’re ever gonna get. Die mad about it. Ryan actually laughed, full and genuine, and it would be almost like they were kidding around if there wasn't such a mean undertone to it. He shook his head at Brendon, nearly said something along the lines of 'you really think you're hot shit, huh,' but. As aforementioned. Apparently Ryan did too, at least subconsciously. So he couldn't say that without practically asking to be mocked for it. Don’t flatter yourself. And anyway- are you sure it’s a girlfriend? Ryan blinked, off his game suddenly. He thought Brendon didn't even pay attention to all of his complicated history. How many have you had before that poor girl you’re whisking along now with your sad damaged English dropout act? Ryan scoffed in the middle of his speech, loud and obnoxious, because fuck that, he didn't have an act, much less that. Still - he had to remind himself of where he was now to avoid overthinking it. Inner mantra and all - not an English dropout, a very brave pursuer of dreams, which have been achieved. So there.

I heard you’ve got some on the side. How about that? That true? "No," Ryan said immediately, almost protesting, and that was so boring, he could say something more, something to hurt right back, but he couldn't think of it. Maybe Keltie would like to know about Jac, and Helena, and... Ryan brought his hand up again to cup the side of Brendon's face, turn his head back to him from where he'd glanced to the bus, instantly cutting him off. "Shut the fuck up. What, do you keep a written record of it all? That a creepy hobby of yours, or are you just waiting for me to be available?" And they were so utterly high school that all he could feasibly do, all his subconscious could muster up, was to push at Brendon's shoulder, totally juvenile and annoying beyond belief.