The Truth Is... [Brallon]

MAKING EYES

A/N:

THE VIDEO'S ARE ALWAYS FROM BRENDON'S POV.
———

DALLON'S POV:

It's been a year since I saw Brendon at Tyler Connolly's party. I knew they were meant to meet up after he was released from the hospital to discuss business. I just didn't realize they were close.

Ryan and I broke it off a few days after the party because he cheated on me with some fucker. I didn't stick around to catch his name.

I can't help but think about what could've been if I had my shit together back then. But then again, I still don't have all my shit together.

I'm just a self-destructive asshole that cheats on the love of his life because things were going 'too good.' Maybe that's why Ryan cheated. Maybe he was scared like I was. It doesn't matter why he did it because I wasn't that heartbroken. I didn't love him like I did Brendon.

We both agreed to remain friends and that's why I'm here in this little coffee shop at the coast of Santa Barbara. We agreed to get away from LA. Yeah, It was a two-hour drive but Ryan said the coffee was amazing.

I heard that Brendon stopped performing altogether, went on hiatus, and began helping other artists with their lyrics. I even heard that he moved to Georgia a few months back. I'm not sure why he moved to Georgia of all places. I just hope he's happy.

I heard Ryan yell my name from the front door of the shop, offering a wave with his free hand, the other was occupied by his boyfriend's own.

I wave back, offering a soft smile. My smile soon falters when I see familiar chocolate brown eyes glancing at him from across the room. Brendon. What are the fucking odds? I swear the universe is against me. I smile and step away from my table. I could hear part of the conversation that was going on between him and another man. As I got closer, I could see the man was Thomas Rhett. A country music artist. Why would Brendon be with him?

"No, No, I think it should be like this," Brendon said before he began to sing what I assumed would be a chorus of the song they were working on.

"Everybody got a small town anthem.
Everybody got a story to tell.
Everybody got a hallelujah.
Everybody been through a little hell.
When you're rolling down a two-lane highway.
And you turn your radio on.
Tell me which one hits you, baby.
Yeah, what's your country song?"

"Did you just come up with that?" Thomas looked at him like he hung the fucking moon.

"Yeah, I kind did." Brendon said with a sly smirk.

"That's fucking amazing, Bren! Mind if I use it?"

"That's what I'm here for isn't it?"

I thought this would be the perfect time to make my presence known.

"So it's true then, you only write now?" I asked with a soft smile.

Brendon didn't say anything at first. He just continued to stand next to the table, looking down at the paper as if something else would suddenly come to him. He was dressed differently. He had on a nice button-up, jeans ( still a woman's pair. They bring out his curves.), and a pair of shit-kicker boots. I could see his leather jacket hanging from the back of the chair next to him. at least some things never change.