Greed.

Intense and selfish desire for something, particularly wealth.

Artist: @charlotte_c__on Instagram.

Plot: Their greed has been their downfall. But maybe, just maybe, this place can save their band, and their love.

::

Ryan isn't a betting man. He does terribly at the casinos, and is a fan of the worst sports teams, picking based on team color rather than which is closest to home or actual skill.

He isn't a betting man, but this is a sure thing: he can't have everything he wants.

He can have some things though, and that's enough for him. Ryan has never gotten anything he's wanted.

He wants fame. He can see it all: a roaring, cheering cloud, calling for him, adoring him. A silky red vest with a tasteful design... maybe roses? Yes, Ryan thinks, a Rose Vest. His hair would be flat ironed to perfection, his eyes lined with thick, swirling pencil. He would be loved. Ryan wants to be adored, wants the attention. He's never gotten much of it in his life. Well, one person has loved him and given him attention...

And, well, that's the other thing he wants.

Brendon.

::

When Pete messages him about a possible record deal, Ryan nearly pisses himself with joy. That is, until he sees the sidenote.

While Brendon is great, and I know you adore him, if you sign with us, you cannot be gay. You'll have to keep your relationship private. That, or you'll have to break up. While the second option would be best for public relations, we can always hire a fake girlfriend so people won't get suspicious.

Ryan isn't so sure that Brendon will like that. No, he KNOWS that Brendon won't like that. Brendon is the type of man to sing out every secret and hesitation to the world. It's why Ryan fell in love with him.

Brendon also adores PDA. He crawls into Ryan's lap and demands attention in front of friends, presses sloppy kisses to his lips in any public location, and croons love songs to Ryan when they come on the radio in stores. Ryan pretends to be annoyed by it, but he secretly loves it. Brendon is soppy and romantic. Brendon is an advocate for LGBT equality, supports equal rights, and always stands up for what he believes in. He gardens due to not wanting to support GMOs, he donates to charity, and he's the kindest man Ryan has ever met. They're so different, and yet... they work.

He's been nothing but supportive of Ryan's pursuit to become famous for his music.

But even Brendon has his limits, and Ryan is sure that this is his.

::

"Sure."

Ryan blinks. That was... easy.

"Sure?" He asks, biting his lip. "'Cuz, like, it's completely secret. Everyone has to think we're roommates. Friends. Whatever." He says, eyes wide. Brendon deserves to understand everything that comes with agreeing.

"I understand that." Brendon says, shrugging and shifting around, drawing his knees up to his chest. Ryan stares. "Woah. Holy shit... really?!"

Now Brendon looks annoyed. "Yeah, really. It sucks, but I'm in love with you. I'll play the 'best friend' role." He says, and Ryan exhales, smiling. "Really, baby? Oh, that's wonderful."

Brendon smiles indulgently. "Yes, well. It's your dream to finally get acknowledged for your music." He says, his tone slightly mocking. Ryan tries not to sigh. He knows that Brendon hates mainstream music, and that he prefers secret underground shows and indie bands. But is fame really a bad thing?

No, definitely not.

Ryan smiles back, although it's strained. He's tired of Brendon acting as if wealth and influence are some sort of curse. "Yeah. Thanks, B..." He says, and Brendon nods, kissing his cheek. "I think I'm gonna go back to my apartment for the night.." He says faintly, and Ryan blinks. "Are you sure? I thought we could hang out. Watch a movie?" He says, and Brendon shrugs.

The thing about Brendon is that he's never passive, unless he's pissed off.

"Bren, what's the matter?" Ryan asks, raising an eyebrow, and Brendon gives him an innocent look. "I'm just tired. That's all, baby."

"You can crash here..." Ryan murmurs, taking his hand. Brendon pulls away, a strange expression on his face. "No. I just wanna go home. Sleep in my own bed. Get comfortable."

'Home' for Brendon is a cramped studio apartment with cracks in the ceiling and a lumpy futon mattress.

Six out of seven days of the week, Brendon sleeps at his place. He only goes home when they're arguing or when he's closer to his apartment, and thus has a shorter distance to walk. Even then, he usually calls Ryan to come pick him up.

Yeah, he's mad.

"If that's what you really want..." Ryan says, standing and grabbing his keys. Brendon frowns, shaking his head. "I can walk. I need the exercise."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "Brendon, come off it. Please, just let me--"

"Stop."

Ryan stops. Stares. "Brendon?"

"Look, I'm going to try, okay? I'm going to try to be optimistic and I'm going to try to support you. But right now, I need to breathe. I need some alone time. So please, just stop smothering me."

Ryan nods slowly. "Okay. I'm... I'm sorry."

Brendon hesitates. "It's... okay. It'll be okay. We can do this, right?" He asks, voice wavering and uncertain.

Ryan nods quickly. "Yeah! I love you. That's all that matters."

Brendon nods, biting his lip. He doesn't look convinced. "Okay. I'll see you..." He says, and Ryan nods, something in his chest clenching up. Brendon doesn't look at him as he leaves, and eve when the apartment door slams shut, Ryan stays rooted in the same spot. He has a bad feeling about this.

::

Ryan is totally the best boyfriend ever.

He's been in the studio for weeks, working on his album, and he knows that Brendon is pissed. Ryan doesn't really blame him: they've hardly talked or done anything together. But for the past week, much to the label's chagrin, he's been working on an anniversary song for the two of them, that'll be the last track on his new album.

His new album. Those three words send a shiver down Ryan's spine. Smiling, he fiddles around with the bass