"I can't believe we've finished it," Spencer said, grinning from ear to ear. Both he and Ryan were sitting at his desk, the laptop in front of them, and they were now leaning back in their chairs, happy that they had finished their dreaded project. "And it wasn't even that bad, was it? I mean, even if Brendon couldn't help us much..." he trailed off and glanced at his alarm clock. "It's still pretty early, too, only eight o'clock. And we don't have a curfew tonight." Spencer continued grinning as he saved the document on his laptop and then closed it. "I'll go down to the library tomorrow and print out a few copies," he said, before shutting off the laptop.

Earlier that day, when they'd finished classes for the weekend, Spencer had banished Jon from his room so that he could work with Ryan. He'd been doing it all week and Jon was getting more and more aggravated, stomping off to Brendon's room without so much as a 'see you later'. Spencer himself was starting to get seriously annoyed with Jon, but it was mostly because he didn't understand what was going on with his best friend. He sighed and looked back at Ryan. "Want to go find Brendon and.. Jon?" he asked, wincing slightly at the name. He really hoped Jon would behave tonight.

Ryan nodded, holding back a sigh. Over the week he'd started feeling comfortable with Spencer, extremely at ease. Of course he was still pretending, and he felt bad that Spencer just seemed to swallow it up without really doubting him, felt bad for exploiting a nice kid who trusted easily. But at the same time it had helped him really develop his faux personality to a point where it almost felt real, sometimes, even to himself. Jon and Brendon were different. Jon was either an angry asshole who was - more or less subtly - at his throat, or he was grilling him so much it wasn't even funny. And Brendon... around Brendon he had to control the way he acted so much, had to keep his character in check to the point of sending the right glances, sending the right signals. It was tiring. And he was nervous lately because he felt he'd been here long enough to start the next step of his charade, had been around Brendon for long enough that it wouldn't seem too weird to start to develop a crush or whatever. And knowing that he had to start acting like he had soon was only making him more nervous about the whole thing.

None the less, he knew that for anything to work at all, he had to be around Brendon pretty often. And, by default, that quite often meant Jon too, so there was really no easy way around it. He took a deep breath and stretched, feeling slight relief in his muscles as his back cracked, and got up, ready to go.

Spencer got up as well, then led the way out of the room and to Brendon's. He knocked once, not surprised in the least when Zach opened the door, and let them through. Brendon was at his usual place on the desk chair and Jon was sprawled across his bed. Smiling slightly, Spencer climbed into the bed, shoving Jon over to give himself some room. Jon grunted, but Spencer could see the smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, please, invite yourselves into my room and lay anywhere you wish," Brendon said sarcastically, still staring down at a sheet of paper in his lap. He looked up briefly to glare at Spencer's shoes, that were currently resting on his bedding, and only looked back at the paper when Spencer had moved his feet off the bed. Spencer motioned to Ryan to sit down on the comfortable chair near the bed.

"You're making me anxious just standing there," he said, chuckling.

Ryan smiled slightly, shrugging and plopping down in the chair. "I'm so glad we're done with that stuff," he groaned. "I'll be happy if I never see or hear the word 'economy' again." Then he looked around in the room slightly, trying to gauge what everyone had been up to. Doing nothing, it would seem. Probably talking.

Spencer nodded in agreement, laying his head on Jon's shoulder. "I'll be happy if I never have to write an argumentative essay ever again, actually," he said, as Jon tried to push him off his shoulder.

"Get off," Jon whined, pushing Spencer's head with his hand, only to have it come back a few seconds later. He heard Spencer chuckle and gave up, glaring at the ceiling.

"Can you people shut up? I've had enough trouble trying to write this stupid piece of shit journal entry with Jon barging in here all the time," Brendon grumbled, still staring down at the paper. He was chewing on his lip, now, trying to see what else he could possibly write. He'd only had one sentence written and when Jon had come in, all inspiration had left him. It hadn't gotten any better, much to his dismay. He sighed heavily, re-reading his sentence over and over again before crumpling the paper and throwing it onto his desk angrily. "Hate this useless crap," he muttered, sitting back in the chair until it wobbled and threatened to fall over.

"Whatever," Jon said. "It's Friday, you shouldn't be working. What are we going to do, man! There's a party tonight, you know. And tomorrow night. You're always invited, Brendon, and you never go. You're so lame," at his last comment, Jon felt Spencer pinch him in the side. He wriggled away and glared at Spencer, then looked back to Brendon, who was obviously ignoring him.

Biting his lip slightly, Ryan peered over at Spencer and Jon on the bed, thinking quickly. "You know," he muttered, keeping his voice low on purpose. "Perhaps we should go for a bit, let him finish." He shrugged slightly as if to say that it was their choice. "We just got done. We shouldn't keep others from the same." He glanced up at Brendon and adopted the role, glancing away almost immediately and succeeding - at least he thought he did - in calling a slight shade of red onto his own cheeks.

Brendon looked up at Ryan and narrowed his eyes, though he didn't really know why- he still instinctively acted as though Ryan were suspicious, some times, more because it's what he thought he should be doing than out of any sense of mistrust. He sniffed and nodded stiffly. "At least someone seems to have a head on their shoulders," he mumbled. He didn't notice Jon go red with anger, or Spencer smiling knowingly. He didn't even bother to look up when Spencer rolled off the bed and then pulled Jon up, too. Spencer cheerily told him that they'd be waiting in their room, or Ryan's room, whichever was best, and then opened the door to leave. Brendon grunted before taking another sheet of paper from the desk and starting to write.

In the hallway, Spencer stopped and looked over at Ryan. "Where to?" he asked, Jon scowling at his side.

"I think we should go to Ryan's room. Undoubtedly it would be much more comfortable than our room," Jon suggested, trying to look innocent. It failed miserably.

Perhaps, if the situation were different, Ryan would've been amused by Jon's comment. As it was, it only served to annoy, just like almost everything to do with Jon had for the past days he'd been at the school. "Sure," he said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. His things were hidden, and hidden well, but he was still nervous. He hadn't counted on having other people come in there, even with the posters and fake pictures. But he couldn't say no either as that would only serve to make Jon even more suspicious of him. Perhaps even Spencer too. He took a deep breath and led the way across the hall, finding his key and unlocking the door before pushing it open and heading inside, immediately plopping down in his office chair and wheeling it over to the sitting area, gesturing for the others to sit and trying not to show how uncomfortable he was. "It doesn't look too lived in," he admitted. "I didn't have room for all that much in my luggage."

Spencer snorted, "wow, looks like we've got another Brendon on our hands. You may have more family pictures than he does, though," he said as he looked around before sitting down in one of the chairs. "Not to make you feel weird or anything, but the other rooms are.. very different. You and Brendon seem to have that same desire to not leave anything of value lying around. And I'm not talking about expensive things..." he trailed off, wondering if he'd managed to confuse Ryan as much as he was confusing himself. It was the truth, though. The other rooms had a lot more objects strewn everywhere, whether it be trophies, or letters from home, or pictures of their girlfriends; things of emotional value.

Jon didn't sit down as he waited for Ryan's reaction to Spencer's words. He was actually quite disappointed to find Ryan's room so... sterile and empty. He did, however, walk around and touch every single surface, examine every single photograph. Just because.

Ryan felt a slight blush, this time a genuine one, flash over his face but fought it down. "Well, I guess I'm just naturally tidy," he finally said, not even a lie. "I like having the pictures with me, though," he added, looking around at all of them. In a few he was depicted with his entire 'family'. A mother and a father and Tobias as his half-brother and a little girl who was supposedly their little sister. In some he was only with one or two of them, in some it was just some of them, in some there were even people who were supposedly his friends from 'back home'. They'd weirded him out for the first few days, still did sometimes, but he was getting used to them. "You can sit down," he added, directing it to Jon. "There's plenty of room."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Jon asked, not bothering to look up. He picked up a picture of Ryan with his friends and smiled. "Who are they?" he asked, bringing the picture to Ryan and holding it in front of his face. From his chair, Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head, hoping that Brendon would come meet them soon enough.

Ryan shrugged, trying to make it look like it wasn't a big deal. At least Jon was nowhere near the set of drawers. He studied the picture and mentally called forth the information he'd been taught to memorize. "Jordan and Hagan," he answered, looking at the pictures of three boys, one of them being himself, in phony Eton uniforms. He had never even met the other two. "I went to school with them. I actually used to go out with Jordie but we figured out that we were really just better as friends. Plus, his parents flipped a cow."

Spencer laughed loudly at that, both because of Jon's facial expression and because of the expression 'flipped a cow'. He snickered when Jon sent him a glare. "That's wonderful," Spencer said, ignoring Jon. "They look like cool people, I guess. But then so does Jon," he said, almost tipping over the chair when Jon shoved him. Putting the picture back where he'd taken it, Jon sighed and sat down.

"He probably hides all his things in those drawers," he said, pointing to the desk. "He's probably some kinky handcuffs-type person," Jon glared at the desk.

"They really are," Ryan agreed, managing a sort of wistful expression. "I miss them, but at least we write and talk online and stuff, so it's not like they're suddenly in the past entirely." And then he turned his attention to Jon, cocking an eyebrow. "If I had ropes or handcuffs or anything of that sort, I might have been tempted to use them over this week, and I don't mean that in a sexual way."

Spencer laughed loudly again, before jumping when someone knocked loudly on the door, the voice on the other side yelling that he could 'fucking hear every single word, and Spencer stop goddamn laughing so loud!' Spencer hid his smile with a hand over his mouth and snorted quietly. Apparently, Brendon wasn't having any more luck with his homework than he had been before.

Jon, who had been glaring openly at Ryan and preparing an insult, looked toward the door and grinned. "Well, looks like we're done here," he said, getting up to open the door, only to have Brendon shove him and tell him to shut up.

Ryan bit back a laugh, shaking his head slightly. But he was still sort of hoping they would leave. He couldn't help but get more and more nervous with every minute they spent in this room, a room packed full of secrets and lies. One wrong move and he'd be found out, which would probably result in him being dead. He didn't like the thought of it. Deciding to distract himself from it, though, he looked up at Brendon for a moment before looking back down, biting briefly on his bottom lip. "Sorry," he finally offered.

"Whatever," Brendon, still in the hallway. He had his sunglasses on top of his head, signaling that maybe he wanted to go out. Jon jumped at that, smiling widely.

"Well, well, gentlemen. Seems like we're going to a party."

***

"It's at Jamison Daron's cottage, right outside of town," Jon was explaining. All four boys were in the limo, even after much protest. They had finally just decided to listen to Jon and go to the damned party. Brendon had his sunglasses covering his eyes and had done something odd to his hair. He was still unmistakably Brendon, though, no matter how much he thought otherwise. "His parties are supposed to be crazy," Jon continued excitedly, unaware that no one was listening to him. When they arrived at the cottage (which was, admittedly, more of a mansion), all four of the young men piled out.

"Well," Spencer said uneasily. "Here we go." He took a deep breath before following Jon inside. Brendon was next, swearing under his breath. He hated parties that weren't under his control. Why was he here?

Ryan raised an eyebrow slightly at the 'cottage' before shrugging off his slight surprise. He wasn't used to parties, at all, didn't know how to act at them, what to do about stuff, anything. But he was here now, so that was really all there was to it. Taking a deep breath, he moved away from the car, following the others towards the door.

Upon entering, Jon disappeared to find some drinks, Spencer followed him, claiming 'buddy system', and Brendon sat in the chair nearest to the door. No one had even looked up when they'd entered, and for this he was glad. When Jon returned with drinks, shoving them at Brendon and Ryan, Brendon tried to get them both to stay, but Jon said something about a swimming pool and ran off, Spencer hurrying behind him. The music was too loud, Brendon's drink was warm, and the chair he was sitting in was lumpy. It really could not get worse. Taking a sip from his drink, he immediately made a pinched face and shivered. "Disgusting," he muttered, before glancing up at Ryan and raising an eyebrow.

Mostly just looking down at the drink, Ryan scrunched up his nose and shook his head, quickly diverting his gaze. "Even if I did drink I have a feeling this isn't sanitary," he stated, pushing the cup away and squirming on the couch he was in, trying to get comfortable. He liked music, he really did, but he didn't appreciate the feeling of having his eardrums smashed in. He supposed that even if he'd liked this sort of thing when he was younger, he had to have grown out of high school parties long ago.

Brendon nodded in agreement and put his own drink down. "I really don't understand what's so amazing about these parties. Hell, my parents' dinner gatherings are more fun than this," he said, wrinkling his nose. He looked around, appalled at the way people were dancing and drinking the disgusting alcohol like their lives depended on it. "Really, now, have they no self-respect?" he asked, more to himself than anything else.

"I always liked the small, quiet things better," Ryan stated in agreement, chuckling slightly. "I guess I don't seem that type, but yeah." He looked up for a moment, eyes flickering briefly over Brendon's face and out to the scantily clad girls and obnoxious-looking guys getting much too hot and heavy to match his taste on the dance floor. "What's the point in getting so many people in one place when the only ones who talk to people they don't already know are the ones who're going to get so pissed they can't remember anyway?" He looked back down on his hands, and past them to the already grimy table and the disgusting plastic cup. "I think they see self-respect differently," he finally declared.

Brendon nodded in agreement, his face showing the disgust he clearly felt. "Do you think there's somewhere in this place where the music isn't so loud?" he asked, jumping when some girl collapsed onto the couch near them. She giggled obscenely for no apparent reason and Brendon swore he could feel his eye twitch. Without paying any attention to them, she grabbed one of their cups from the table and downed it before getting back up, swaying, and stumbled away. Brendon turned to Ryan, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open. He was silent for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. "Disgusting," he mumbled to himself, when he finally stopped laughing. He got up and walked the few steps to the door, wrenching it open and stepping out into the night air. Without looking back for Ryan, he walked away from the house until the music wasn't as aggravating and stood there in silence.

Ryan quickly got up and followed Brendon out, stopping when he was a few feet behind the boy. "I guess here works," he stated, relieved he didn't have to raise his voice to be heard anymore. Then he took the last couple of steps until he reached Brendon's side, reaching out to place a hand on the boy's shoulder before pulling it back almost immediately, not bothering to try to fake a blush. It was too dark outside to be noticed anyway. "Are you okay?"

Brendon cleared his throat and nodded once, quickly. He could still hear the music a bit, but at least he didn't have to put up with those insufferable children in the house. "I am perfectly fine," he finally answered, turning to look at Ryan. "If my father found out I'd been to a party like this... he'd probably have me locked in my room. And have Zach fired for not following me around everywhere. Thankfully, Zach likes me a bit more than he should and lets me have my freedom..." he trailed off, frowning. "He's probably got some under-cover bodyguard watching me," he whispered, then chuckled at how stupid that sounded. And how true it might be.

"Good," Ryan nodded, trying to keep the doubt of his voice. Brendon definitely did seem bothered by something. But of course it could've just been the party. Ryan himself wasn't exactly comfortable about that either. Then he laughed slightly. "Perhaps he does. And I think it's good Zach lets you be sometimes. You'd suffocate in the long run otherwise, I'd say." He took a deep breath before plopping down on the ground, looking up at the sky. "I like it better out here," he finally stated.

Brendon hummed quietly, looking down at the ground, sneering, before his gaze drifted to Ryan. "You know it's quite dirty down there, right?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. He looked around quickly before taking off his glasses and stuffing them into his pockets. He sighed heavily, trying to remember when he was going home next. Of course, his father could choose any day to order him back home, but Brendon knew that the next set date was in a few weeks. He was not looking forward to it. More talk about his studies, his future, and boring dinner parties were sure to follow. He found himself wishing he was someone else before remembering how much his country meant to him and how much people counted on him. He had an important duty. What would his father say if he knew Brendon was wishing to be someone else? Frowning at himself, Brendon sighed again, trying to focus on now instead of his father and his future. He looked down at Ryan and pursed his lips. "I like it better at school, to be honest. At least most people behave there."

Ryan had a hard time keeping his chuckles back and eventually he just let them out, tilting his head slightly to look up Brendon. Being taller, it was a bit weird to see him from this angle. "Me too," he stated. "And it's not that I really care about what other people do, but I guess I just don't like being around too many people at the same time. Especially when they're acting like that." He plucked a straw of grass from the ground and started shredding it, slowly. He always liked having something to do with his hands, felt awkward when there was nothing. If they weren't occupied he really felt the full length of his hands and arms and for some reason that always made him feel clumsy, which he obviously didn't like. "And I don't care about the dirt. It comes off in the wash, and it can't be any worse than those couches we were sitting on. Let's just call this my way of unwinding." He gave another small chuckle at that, letting it ring off quickly before it started to sound uncomfortable.

Brendon looked down, one eyebrow raised. "Right..." he whispered under his breath, looking away again. "But you could get grass stains and then they would never come out of your clothes and you would have to throw them out," He pointed out, nodding to himself. He remembered playing outside when he was very young and getting a grass stain on his favorite shirt, once. And he remembered how his father had made him throw it out because it wasn't proper anymore and how Brendon had promised himself never to play in the grass like that again, lest he ruin more of his clothing. He clenched his jaw at that thought, remaining silent.

Shrugging slightly, Ryan flashed another smile before shaking his head. "You haven't felt the grass," he stated. "It's so dry I doubt there's enough juice in the nearest square mile to make a decent grass stain. Anyway, I'd just send them back to my mum. She has this miracle trouser cure or something; gets anything off." True story, that. He wouldn't be able to send them, though. His mother had no idea where he was or what he was doing, and when the jeans came back he was pretty sure it would be suspicious for everyone to see a package that had come from Massachusetts. Now that he thought about it, though, he really did miss his mother, pathetic as that may sound. He'd just been much too busy with work for months to have really seen her or talked to her. He'd send her an email later, he decided.

Brendon nodded slowly, a smile playing on his lips. But when he tried to think of his mother in a .. motherly way, all he remembered was her doting upon him and buying him lots of clothes. He couldn't talk about her home cooked meals, like Spencer could of his mother, or even her amazing power with cleaning clothes, like Ryan. He sighed again before slowly lowering himself to sit on the ground cross-legged. He placed his hands in his lap and picked at his fingers absently, still looking out straight ahead. "That's nice," he said, finally, his voice wistful. He knew he was kind of late in answering, but he didn't care much.

Ryan smiled slightly, considering the fact that Brendon had finally sat down to be an accomplishment. On both their behalf's, really. He didn't miss the fact that the boy had taken quite a while before answering, though, and he looked at Brendon again, this time keeping his gaze there since the boy was looking in another direction. "It is," he agreed, sighing slightly. Then he sucked in a deep breath. "Listen, I know you haven't known me for very long, and that you don't trust me, you think I'm a little weird, and I'm probably about the last person you'd want to talk to about anything lower than surface. But I like to listen, really. So if you want to talk, you can go ahead. Your father won't find out; I won't tell Jon and Spencer; no one who 'counts on you' would ever hear it. And there's no shame in needing to load off."

Tensing, Brendon frowned slightly and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He slowly shook his head, but his words told a different story. "You're in my Creative Writing class, eh? You've done a few entries for that journal as well, haven't you? Isn't it... unnerving to write something like that? Letting people..." he trailed off, trying to think of the right word. "In," he finally said, no louder than a whisper. He looked down at his legs, still picking at his hands, now with a bit more determination than before. Suddenly, he stopped. The skin near his thumb nail was turning red, a blemish, a flaw, and he frowned. Not good. When he got home, his father would surely notice and he would be chastised for having bad habits. All those little impulsive habits, such as biting nails or chewing on lips, were evil in his father's eyes. Brendon had to admit that he indulged in a few of them and made a promise to himself right then to stop. It wouldn't bring on anything good, in the end.

Ryan could have laughed out loud at the irony, but didn't. The last thing he needed to do right now was hurt the kid. Of course Brendon had no way of knowing that Ryan's journal entries were as much lies as everything else, no way of knowing that the tale about his mother's greatness at laundry was probably the most honest thing Ryan had said for close to a week. No way of knowing that right here, right now, Brendon was the open one out of the two of them, that Ryan had many more secrets than he did. It felt wrong, almost, to have them all, though. It was a beautiful night, with moons and stars ahead, and somehow the slight waver in Brendon's usually strong voice, the subtle insecurity only served to make it more stunning. And Ryan couldn't help but feel that he was tainting it all with his deceit. What was he but deceit right now anyway? Everything these people, everything Brendon knew about him was a lie. He took a deep breath, calling his senses back. It was his job. It was important, and it had been given to him because his superiors trusted he could do it. He couldn't afford to let them down. "It's hard," he finally stated. "And it feels like walking on thin ice. But at the same time it can be utterly liberating. The truth shall set you free, right?"

Brendon snorted, slowly returning back to his normal self. "Not always," he said, his tone of voice much more self-assured than before. He didn't say anything else, though. Because what Ryan had said was supposed to be true and it was how he felt. Except probably much deeper. "I just don't think I should have to open up to everyone. This is going to be in all of the senior classes' hands at the end of the year. I'm trying really hard to make it so that what I'm talking about can be easy to relate to, but those words are just covering up the fact that what I'm going through and what I will go through later on, is very different from anyone else in this school. Of course, there are many whose fathers expect great things from them and are expected to take over a family company... but that's nothing compared the the expectations of a whole country." He stopped there, frowning at himself. He felt as if he was possessed. Why else would he be talking so freely?

Ryan shrugged, silently wondering if, through this job, he hadn't in fact taken the safety of his whole country on his shoulders in some strange way. He wasn't doing this for himself. It really was for that vague idea of a country. And even if the two ways were completely different, even if he hadn't been raised to do this, wasn't expected to lead anyone, perhaps he understood more than Brendon knew. He knew he understood better than he could let on. "That's definitely understandable," he finally said. "No one should have to open up to everyone; only people you trust, or you'll feel so vulnerable and shredded into pieces that you won't know what to do with yourself. I mean..." He trailed off, considering his words slightly as he wet his lips. "I mean, in a way they already own your life. It's not fair that they have to own your thoughts too. And I'd say I understand, but we both know I don't, not to the necessary extent anyway. But I know enough to know that there's no way it's easy and. And I admire you for doing it and remaining as stable and pulled together and down to Earth as you are. Give what it feels right to give, but make sure to hold onto yourself. Your mind is the one thing no one can control, right?"

"Well," Brendon smirked, "my father does like to think that he can control every aspect, down to my thoughts. But, no, you're right. It just feels weird. I'm sure I'll get used to it. Thanks, though." He stayed silent for a few seconds before looking back at the house. "When do you suppose Spencer will drag Jon out of there?" he asked, suddenly annoyed that his friends weren't back yet. Surely Spencer wasn't having fun in there! He narrowed his eyes and looked away, shaking his head. "I'm almost tempted to go back to school and have them find someone else for a ride. That would certainly teach them," he muttered.

"You're welcome," Ryan answered with a small smile. "Anytime, okay? I'm right across the hall." Then he chuckled slightly at the suggestion. "Jon has quite some influence on Spencer, I think, even though Spencer would never admit it, so really, he might actually be having fun."

Brendon nodded slowly, then laughed. "Oh, yeah, every thing's all fun and games before they come out here, Jon probably drunk off his ass, and see that I am long gone." He said, smiling innocently. It wasn't such a bad idea. He was not their chauffeur, after all, even if Jon probably thought of him as such.

"That idea is starting to sound pretty appealing," Ryan admitted, yawning slightly. "You never got to finish your homework earlier either, did you?" He stretched his arms above his head with another yawn, feeling quite some relief in the movement. Working long hours on that essay with Spencer for the last few nights really had him tired by now. What had he gotten the night before? Four hours? Five? Couldn't be more than that. "I don't really feel like sticking around to find out if Jon's a violent drunk," he added. "So if you're going back, I'm all for it."

Brendon hummed, thought about it, and then nodded. He pushed himself up off the ground and hurried off to the front of the limo, knocking on the driver's side window. When the window rolled down, he spoke. "We're going back, now," he said, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "when you drop us off, you're to come back and wait for Jon and Spencer. Only Jon and Spencer, no one else is to get in. You will drive them back to school when they are ready," he finished, then straightened and walked to the back. He wasn't that much of a jerk that he would leave his friends stranded, but nobody had to know it. He motioned for Ryan to follow him as he climbed into the back.

Ryan pulled himself up off the ground and followed Brendon into the limo, letting out a small sigh as he sat down in the seat. "This is definitely the nicest thing I've sat in since we left school," he stated absentmindedly, stuffing his restless hands into the front pockets of his hoodie and letting his head loll back tiredly. "Can't wait to go sleep."

Brendon chuckled and nodded, sitting in his usual lone seat. He leaned his head back as well, then turned on the overhead TV. He didn't know why he always turned on the TV, since he certainly did not like the music the station usually played, but it was a comfort of sorts. "Well, don't doze off in here, because I'm not waking you up," he stated, biting back a smile.

"I'll try not to," Ryan promised, a small smile tugging at his lips. He glanced up at the TV, mentally rolling his eyes at the video that was on. "That song blows," he finally concluded.

"It's a good thing the TV isn't on for your enjoyment, then," Brendon said, blinking slowly at Ryan. He yawned widely, covering his mouth with his hand, and shrugged. "But I do agree. I just like this station. I can watch TV without hearing any news and not be forced to watch some stupid cartoon or show," he shrugged, before turning the volume down. "Besides, it's not always this horrendous."

"Hopefully it's not," Ryan muttered. "I get it, though. The news is depressing and TV shows are just so... fake, really. I'm not even going to start on the cartoons." He raised his head slightly and looked across him at Brendon's lithe form. "I don't get why you always wear sunglasses. You look much better without them," he finally said, each word as calculated as the blush he managed to fake as he quickly turned his gaze back to the TV. "Sorry," he muttered. "Didn't mean to freak you out."

"Ha. Nothing freaks me out," Brendon said, though he fought to suppress a shiver. He glanced over at Ryan, noticing the blush and had to work very hard not to laugh more. He bit his lip and looked back up at the TV. "And I wear the sunglasses because I don't want any attention from anyone- good or bad. It's annoying, you know. When I was little, I used to think it was rather fun, but, as I grew up I realized that more than half of the smiling faces were bitter and false," he shrugged. "With the glasses, I like to think that no one can see me. Or that they don't care. I'm just another high school boy."

Ryan nodded slightly, pretending to be relieved that Brendon wasn't unnerved. "It can't have been easy," he muttered. "Can't be, I mean. It's not like it's over yet." He glanced over at Brendon for a moment before looking back at the TV without really watching it. As much as he'd hated the eyeliner to begin with and still sort of did, that was what it had become too. A mask, something that made him feel safer because he didn't look like himself, so how could people get any idea who he really was.

Brendon nodded once but made no move to answer properly. He slumped against his seat and let his eyes drift close. He wasn't sleeping, just resting his eyes. He was tired of watching music videos and tired of watching the landscape zoom by out of the dark windows. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, something he usually did when he had something to say and couldn't bring himself to utter the words. Or just when he was upset. He didn't know what he wanted to say just now, but he kept his mouth shut and eyes closed. He wondered what Jon and Spencer were doing.

***

Ryan was about ready to just collapse on his bed when he returned to his room, but he knew that if Brendon was going to get online, he couldn't very well just abandon their nightly conversations. And so he turned the computer on and changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt as it loaded, refraining from rubbing his eyes at the knowledge that it would smear black all over his face and hands. At least he wasn't wearing band-aids anymore. When he was changed he walked back to his office chair and typed in the series of passwords and waited for the other boy to log on. He'd give him five minutes, and if he hadn't gotten on by then, Ryan was damn well going to bed.

Brendon was setting up his laptop so that he could be in bed and on the computer at the same time. He laid down on his stomach on the bed, his laptop on the pillow, and logged on, his head resting against his arm. It was uncomfortable, but Brendon didn't trust himself to sit up. When he saw Drew on, he smiled lazily and shook his head against his arm.

zeke: well, hello. have a nice day?

Two minutes had passed when Ryan heard the pling, having already been half asleep in his chair. He smiled slightly at the line in the small window, relieved that it wasn't anything complicated, that right now there was nothing to dodge. He reached into the touch-pad and moved his finger, tapping once, and the window with the conversation took up the entire screen.

drew: yeah, it was good. you?

Brendon hummed to himself, thinking it over. He had not finished his journal entry, and had gone to a horrible party. What else could have gone wrong? Also, he'd been more or less abandoned by his friends.

zeke: ... nothing to complain about here. how was your night? do you like your new school more or less, now that you've been there for the better part of a week?

Ryan smiled slightly. It was still simple, didn't touch on areas he was uncomfortable with, for which he was grateful. As tired as he was right at that moment, he was even more likely to mess up than usual.

drew: good, good. the night was fine. i have a feeling it didn't quite go as my friends planned, but you know. i'd say i definitely like it. i'm not comfortable somewhere i don't know my place around. it's better now, to know the place and some of the people.

Brendon smiled and nodded to the computer screen. He yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth this time, and then set about typing back an answer.

zeke: that's good. i'm a bit worried about some of my friends, but i'm sure they'll be just fine... well, i hope so anyway. but tomorrow's saturday! i can sleep in, ha ha.

Smiling a little, Ryan read over the line an extra time. No way was he worried about Spencer and Jon. Sure, Jon may do some stupid thing or another, but Ryan couldn't even be honestly regretful in saying that he didn't care about the guy. And he trusted Spencer to have a level head on his shoulders and come back in one piece.

drew: whatever's up with them i'm sure they'll be fine. and saturdays are the best. i've been waiting for it all week. like i usually do, but hey.

Ryan drew in a sharp breath, biting slightly on his bottom lip. He had to get some sort of a message through, just something for Brendon to actually think about. Had to plant that first seed, as the saying went.

drew: you know how you said that you wanted me to talk more about me too and not just what was bothering you? well, i really liked tonight because i got to spend it with who i did, you know? and now you can feel free to go ahead and laugh at me.

Brendon couldn't help smiling as he read the last message. Biting the inside of his cheek, he took a few seconds to think about what to respond with. Finally, he sighed, shook his head, and couldn't help but tease the poor boy just a little. He obviously had the upper hand, since Ryan didn't know who he really was, and teasing him just seemed like the right thing to do.

zeke: aw, that's adorable. does annndreeewww have a crush on someone?

Good, good. Ryan had already found out that the boy was far from dim, and he'd been right. Brendon had taken the bait. Things were at least going in the right direction on that respect. But honestly, he had no idea how to make the boy return the feelings he was pretending to have. Or even just be attracted to him. He had absolutely no experience in the department of getting anyone to like him in that way.

drew: uhm no. well... maybe?

Brendon snorted, then froze. If this was Ryan, which he was sure it was, that meant that Ryan was crushing on.. on him? Or Spencer? Surely not Jon... Brendon wrinkled his nose. Why hadn't he thought this through before asking such a stupid question? Did he want to know if Ryan actually liked him? Asking more questions would probably give something away, but then again leaving abruptly would, too. Brendon closed his eyes and sighed again.

zeke: i knew it. well, i can't help you there, unfortunately. i don't really do the whole dating thing, so even if i did help you, i'd probably give the worst possible advice. sorry

Ryan noted a slightly longer pause this time and figured that the impact of what he'd written had probably hit the other boy. And for a moment he'd thought that Brendon was just going to log off and then avoid him forever. Before he had time to doubt his own judgement, though, he was saved by the now familiar pling and let out a breath of relief.

drew: i know, i know. and i don't want advice anyway because, honestly. going nowhere. you know, there are great guys here and i have a feeling some of them even have slightly gay tendencies, but being me i had to go and set my eyes on the unattainable. don't worry about it, though. it's nothing serious.

The response made Brendon jut out his bottom lip. It was quite sad, actually. He'd never thought of it that way, had never set his sights on someone he couldn't have. He imagined it must be a horrible feeling.

zeke: that... sucks. ): i wish i could help, really, but... well. i can't. uhm. i should probably be getting to bed, though. i'll talk to you sometime tomorrow, yeah?

Ryan groaned slightly at the response. Yeah, he'd gone too far and Brendon would be avoiding him from then until eternity and he'd have to go back and say that he'd failed his assignment, his first one, and he'd be working desk jobs for the rest of his life.

drew: thanks, i really appreciate it. but as i said, don't worry. you know me, i always land on both feet, right? and that makes two of us. i'm beat. catch you later.

Brendon signed off and shut down the laptop. He stared at the blank screen for a few minutes before pushing it off the pillow and onto his bedside table. He lay in his bed and sighed, turning onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. Frowning at himself for being so down about something that was out of his control, he pushed himself up and proceeded to get ready for bed.

Still slightly put off and more than just a little worried, Ryan turned off his laptop and walked over to his bed, crawling under the covers. He had a feeling sleep wouldn't come too easily that night.