Heart of Stone - final revised version :)

Gold is My New Favorite Color

I lay my head in Brendon's lap and look up at him as he smooths my hair. We've been out here for two weeks and it shows on his face: messy, overgrown hair and the beginnings of a scraggly beard with dirt spotting his skin. He's still beautiful.

I take his hand and start playing with his fingers. "Sing something," I whisper.

He doesn't miss a beat and starts singing softly.

"Imagine there's no heaven." He smiles down at me. "It's easy if you try." I grin at him crookedly and listen to him sing the rest of the song.

When he finishes, I feel warm all over. I feel at peace, and I forget where we are or why we're here. Everything disappears – the sand, the rocks, my screaming father, his perfect past. It all crumbles away until it's just us. He makes me forget.

And that's all I ever could've asked for.

Suddenly, Brendon stirs and he looks off into the distance. Reality returns, and I sit up next to him.

"What?" I ask, trying to follow his gaze.

"I...hear something." His eyes are fixed outside the cave, somewhere on the horizon.

He stands up and walks out. I follow him, and when I see that small, brown object sailing along the black asphalt, I grab his hand. He squeezes back. "Ry, we're going home."

We sprint towards the road, waving our hands and screaming like maniacs. All of the sudden, the car comes to a screeching halt about fifteen feet in front of us. The driver, a middle aged woman, comes towards us hesitantly.

She scans both of us, and her eyes widen at the sight of me. "Are you Ryan Ross?"

"Yeah. We've been stranded out here for weeks. Could you give us a ride back to LA?" I rush out before she asks for an autograph or something.

"Of course Mr. Ross! Anything for you! I love your movies so much! How did you even get out here anyway? And who's your friend?" She continues babbling on as Brendon and I sit down in the back seat of her station wagon.

She tells us her name is Doris and makes me sign a crumpled napkin. "Doris: Thanks for the ride home. -Ryan Ross"

She talks about how her eight-year-old son was inspired to become a director because of me, and hey, isn't that nice.

Brendon sits quietly next to me, only speaking to explain that he is my photographer for my new movie. Doris tries to engage him in some conversation, but she seems too overwhelmed to have Ryan Ross in her car to pay much attention to him. I keep my hand on his knee, though, drawing mindless patterns with my thumb.

The car ride lasts about six hours. Then, we reach my office building. We thank Doris again and I promise to invite her and her son to the premiere of the new film.

Brendon and I watch her drive away, and once she's gone, he turns to me and grins. "We lived."

"Mostly," I say, motioning to my leg, which now has a sizable scar across the shin.

"But we're home now." His smile suddenly falls and he smacks his forehead. "Shit. The car." He looks up at me. "My dad will kill me."

"He won't care. Once he finds out you were trapped in the desert with Ryan Ross, he'll be so grateful I saved your sorry ass that that old piece of metal will completely slip his mind." I chuckle a little.

"Shut up." Brendon slaps my arm playfully and tries to hold back a smile.

We're getting a lot of looks from passersby, but I can understand it. Ryan Ross is standing on the street in dirty tattered clothing with another boy dressed the same.

Brendon shyly looks down at his shoes.

"I should, uh, develop these," he says, holding up his camera.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Right. I'll, uh –"

"I'll call," he interrupts. "When they're done. Should be a week or two."

"Okay. Yeah. Well, I guess I'll...see you." I stutter.

"See you, Ryan." He smiles and walks away from me. I stare at his back until he's no longer visible in the sea of people and cars and buildings. What a strange sight.

I open the door to the building, wondering what I'll do for the next week without him, and I'm swarmed by my agent, bodyguards, marketing people, and whoever else is in charge of me. They begin asking questions all at once.

"Where were you?"

"What the hell, Ryan?"

"What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

I push through them and manage to get to the elevator alone. I sigh and press the 17 and watch it light up. Haven't seen that in a while.

I reach my floor and drag myself into my office. I sit down on the big comfy couch and look out the window, half expecting a man to be waiting for me there, smoking a cigarette and leaning against his pink car.

***

It's been nearly two weeks when Brendon calls. I pick up the phone immediately and warmth spreads over me when his voice answers. His voice. God, how I've missed his voice.

He tells me he'll stop by to give me the finish pictures in twenty minutes. He hangs up, and the loss opens up the hole in my chest that's been there since he left.

It's the longest twenty minutes of my life.

I look down from my window to see a cab pull up outside. Brendon steps out and immediately looks up in my direction. I hold back a smile, trying to contain myself as I head down to meet him.

I step out of the building and take him in. He still has the same giant glasses and pearly white grin. His black hair has been trimmed and he has a clean-shaven face. His eyes light up at the sight of me.

"Hey." Brendon smiles warmly.

"Hi." I smile back.

He seems to suddenly remember why he's here as he looks down at the folder in his hands.

"Here they are," he says, handing it to me.

I take the folder and he stands there awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

"I just-" he spits out. "I just wanted to say thank you. For hiring me. This has been one hell of a trip and probably one of the best times of my life, even if we did almost die out there." He looks down at his shoes sheepishly, and then meets my gaze. "I'm gonna miss you, Ry."

"I'm gonna miss you too, Bren." I will not cry. I'm not going to cry.

"Well, I, uh, better get going." He shakes my hand, which is ridiculous based on what we've been through together, and turns to leave.

I think about how much Brendon has changed me. He's given me a reason to wake up each morning. How he's taught me to find the beauty in everything. Hell, he even managed to make me less of an asshole, and that's more than anyone else could ever do.

He can't leave me. Not just yet.

"You don't have to leave," I say to his back.

He turns around slowly. "What?"

"You don't...have to leave. I can, uh, arrange for you to be my official photographer for future movies."

His eyes light up. "For real?"

I grin. "For real."

He runs up and hugs me so tightly I can barely breathe. He lets go and our faces are inches apart. I can see the specks of gold in his brown eyes. Gold is my new favorite color.

Before I can stop myself, I lean in and kiss him. I don't care if people see. It's not their problem. They can go on with their own fucking pathetic lives, because I've got me a boy.

And he's staying. He's really staying.