Storms of Fabled Foreign Tongues ~ A Rydon/Ryden fanfiction

Chapter three

Chapter three

The next day was positively uneventful for Brendon. He got into work late (again - and he still hadn't bought a new alarm clock), stocked yet more shelves with Patrick, who had grilled him about his meeting with Ryan the day before, which he'd told in full (except maybe for the part where Brendon had given Ryan his number, he still regretted that greatly), and then he'd had his lunch break, which he'd spent eating a limp cheese sandwich from the corner shop over the road from Tunes on a rickety bench under a old looking tree, and then he'd spent the latter part of the afternoon on counter duty again, and then spent his break playing all the instruments in the back room (which nobody must know about, especially not his co-workers) and the rest of the afternoon selling a ukulele to a 10 year old and her mother and then aligning all the instruments, which kept moving for some reason (it was probably ghosts). He was now on his way home, walking along a side-street not far from his house. But then it happened; Brendon had borrowed (borrowed, most certainly not stolen, although he hadn't technically asked, but nobody would notice, surely) the Young Veins album 'Take a vacation!' to listen to at home, because he was curious to hear what Ryan's music sounded like, but then, all of a sudden, Brendon's phone buzzed in his back pocket; which he thought nothing of, he got texts quite a lot. It was probably Spencer telling him he'd left his jacket at Brendon's house from when he'd come over on Saturday night and that he wanted it back, or his Mother sending him a long text to check up on him after hearing about his breakup with Dallon, but Brendon would phone her after he'd had something to eat.

But Brendon took his phone out of his pocket and check to see who/what it was, and it wasn't at all what he was expecting. It was a text from an unknown number. Brendon's brow furrowed as he tapped on the text message. It was not what Brendon expected at all, because... the text was from Ryan Ross.

"Jesus christ...." Brendon whispered, stopping still in the middle of the pavement to read it.

'Hi Brendan/Brenden its Ryan here. How're you? I saw you gave me your number, do you wanna meet up sometime for a coffee or something?'

Oh my god. Ryan Ross had texted him. 'Holy crap, holy crap, holy SHIT!' Brendon thought. He started walking again and turned down onto the street he lived on. He tapped the "reply" icon and tried to think of a good thing to say. He thought hard about what he could reply with, but nothing came to mind.

"Fuck," Brendon mumbled as he collided face-first with a lamppost. He rubbed his nose. Great. He would have a nice bruise there at work tomorrow. Who knows how he'd explain that one to Mr Jones.

"Oh yeah, I just got a text from Ryan Ross who I gave my number to on Monday and I was trying to think of a reply so I accidentally walked into a lamppost," he could say to him. That was definitely a not a good idea.

Brendon arrived back at his house, and walked up the path and fumbled with the key in the lock. He finally managed to unlock his door and stumbled into his house, staring at his phone again. He walked into his living room and sat down on the sofa, ignoring the empty Pizza boxes that lay there from that Saturday night with Spencer.

Brendon thought hard for a moment before thinking of the perfect text to reply to Ryan with.

'Hey, Ryan. I'm fine, how about you? My name's actually spelt BrendOn... it's just that my work keeps messing up my name-tag. I wasn't expecting you to text that soon, but it's all fine. And, yeah, it would be nice to meet up sometime. I'm free Saturday and Sunday.' Brendon made sure to correct all the grammar in his text, as he didn't want to come off as uneducated, and considered sending a smiley, but decided against it, because it would probably make him look like a 12-year-old and he most definitely didn't want that. Hopefully he didn't come off as too eager to meet with Ryan, because it sort of looked like that to him. Brendon sighed and put his phone down on his coffee table, anxiously awaiting Ryan's reply

-

Brendon made himself some pasta out of leftovers which did not look very appetising at all. He sat on the couch and turned the TV on, some boring reality TV show playing. He didn't focus on it, instead he focused on his phone, wondering when Ryan would reply. Hopefully soon. Brendon wasn't the type of person who liked waiting. He pushed the positively disgusting pasta around the plate, hardly eating one bite.

Brendon texted his Mom and told her that he couldn't phone her that night (mainly because he was waiting for a reply from Ryan and didn't want to be in the middle of a long conversation about the weather or his work with his mother when Ryan did reply) and he also texted Spencer telling him that he'd left his jacket at Brendon's house, which Spencer promptly replied to saying that he'd be over the next evening to pick it up. Brendon eventually discarded his uneaten meal into the bin and washed his work polo shirt (which he only had one of, he made a mental note to get another one) and sighed as he looked at his misspelt badge (that was higher on Brendon's mental list of things to at work, because if one more person called him Brenden, he would punch them in the face. Seriously.) Brendon then preceded to try and clean his house, but ultimately failed. He then sorted out some stuff Dallon had left behind; as Brendon did not want anything that idiot had owned so he threw Dallon's stuff out, straight in the trash can, as simple as that.

Brendon then checked Facebook, nothing new, just his old school friends talking about their boring lives (not that Brendon's was at all exciting, in fact it was probably worse than theirs) and people's pet pictures. Brendon then wondered if Ryan Ross had a twitter or instagram; which he did (and 10,000 followers on both, damn him, Brendon had around 15, not that he was counting). Brendon then proceeded to stalk Ryan for the better part of an hour. When Brendon had scrolled through most of Ryan's posts he saw a picture of the Young Veins' album, which reminded him he'd borrowed it from work that day. Brendon went over to his jacket which lay limply on the back of a chair and removed the album, putting the CD into his old CD player.

The music filled the room and Brendon felt instantly relieved. He sat down on the couch and listened to every song thoroughly, Ryan's melodic voice filling his ears.

Once the album was finished, Brendon put on some crappy late night TV for half an hour, before noticing it was just past eleven. He had to get to bed now, so he didn't oversleep again and make himself late for work.

Brendon headed into his bedroom and got changed into his pyjamas and brushed his teeth. He checked his phone one last time, no word from Ryan. He probably wasn't going to reply. Brendon sighed and got into bed, switching his lamp off.

"Beeeeeeeep"

"Ughhhhh," Brendon groaned. It had only been 15 minutes since he'd got into bed and was just falling asleep before he heard the loud noise coming from his phone.

He rolled over and reached for it. If it was Spencer, he would kill him for waking him up on a work night.

Brendon switched his phone on and checked his texts.

It wasn't Spencer... It was Ryan.

'Hi Brendon sorry I couldn't reply to your text earlier, I was practicing some songs for a gig I'm doing on Friday. I'm alright, thanks. Saturday is fine for me. 12 at Daisy's?'

Brendon took a deep breath before typing a reply.

'Sure tjats fine for saturday. see u there' he was too tired to check his spelling so he just sent it there, falling back into bed, thinking about Ryan.

Oh god. Was he actually meeting up with Ryan on Saturday? It seemed so...