Give Me Envy, Give Me Malice, Give Me Your Attention *Ryden*

Promise Me a Place In Your House of Memories

"I don't hate you." Ryan said, feeling defeated.

"Oh okay, so you just go around punching people you like?"

"I hate the situation."

"Care to elaborate on what situation you're referring to?"

Ryan stood up and took two bottles of beer from the refrigerator, popping the tops and handing one to Brendon without asking if he wanted it. Of course he did. This was a conversation that called for beer.

"It's like--you can do no wrong." Ryan began. "Everything you touch turns to gold, while everything I touch turns to shit."

Brendon softened. He already knew that Ryan felt that way, although he never thought Ryan would admit it. There were times when Brendon felt almost guilty for it. Almost. But then he'd remind himself that Ryan had brought this on himself when he quit the band.

"Ryan," he said now, quietly. "You quit the band. We had a really good thing going. You left it behind."

"It was good once. You know it wasn't good in the end."

"No, it wasn't good in the end. But that's because there was no compromise. You refused."

"Because you guys were asking me to do more than compromise! You shot down every idea I had."

"Ry, you weren't the easiest person to work with."

"Neither were YOU! I think you let things go to your head there, for a while. You were the golden boy."

"What the fuck are YOU talking about? Nothing ever went to my head. And you wanna talk about golden boys? You were Pete's golden boy--until you broke his heart by giving up the career he'd helped you get."

"Fuck that!! Pete understood that it was a business decision."

"That's right." Brendon said. "A business decision. A decision you made that you have to live with the consequences of."

"It's not just that." Ryan said, pacing the kitchen like a caged animal. He felt a little bit caged right now, to be honest. "You knew I was interested in working with Halsey. I was planning on it. Then you go and step in and steal the spotlight as always -- and to top it off, what fucking song do you choose to sing with her? Fucking Sins. I fucking wrote that song, Brendon."

Trying to stay calm, Brendon spoke in a controlled voice. "You wrote the lyrics. We all wrote most of the music. We all recorded it. The song doesn't belong only to you."

"That's not the point. The point is, you have this great new album out, you could have picked any of those songs. You chose Sins."

Brendon sighed. "You know that's not how it works. Coachella wanted it to be Sins. They have the final say."

"But it's not just THAT either!" Ryan continued, looking like he was getting worked up all over again. "The worst thing is, the worst thing IS, you come back around and make me want you again. When I can barely stand being in a room with you, you somehow go and make me want you again. And you're married and I can't have you."

Brendon felt a lump rising in his throat, as it suddenly dawned on him what he'd done. He'd acted impulsively (as usual) and overstepped his boundaries, He wasn't just playing with his own emotions here. There were two other people involved.

"Ryan." He said. "You've always kinda had me."

The room grew silent as they both let the words settle over them. The air felt heavy, and both of their eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"But it'll never work, will it? It'll just never work." Ryan said.

Brendon closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly. "No."

Setting down his beer, he walked over to Ryan and drew him in close for a hug. If the hug they'd shared at Emo Night had meant I miss you, I'm sorry, this one definitely said, I'm sorry, goodbye. We tried.

I love you.

"Don't be a stranger." Brendon said, stealing the words from what Ryan had said a few weeks earlier. "I want you to stay in touch. Don't fall off the face of the earth like you did before."

"I think we'll always have to be strangers. There's no in between with us. We can only be strangers or lovers. Can't have both."

"Maybe someday it'll be different."

Ryan walked Brendon to the door. He watched as Brendon walked toward his car, heading back home to his wife where he belonged. His throat was tight with emotion, but Ryan managed to call out, "Hey, Bden?"

Brendon smiled at the nickname and turned around.

"You remember that tweet I wrote a couple years ago? My reply to the person who asked me what I thought of you? I meant it."

"What'd you say?" Brendon asked.

"You're my boy. Always will be."

****The End****

Note: The next chapter is an alternate ending (for those who like happy endings, and don't we all?) Plus I wanted one more smut scene, so why not? Haha [insert devil face emoji here]