The Player and The Artist

Dont Call Me Georgie

"W-what's going on?" Charlie asked, confused. Her- our mom ignored her question and started to walk towards me.

"Georgie. Oh my god. My baby...." I pushed her away.

"Don't call me Georgie. It's Ryan now. And don't call me Ryan either. Don't call me anything- especially not baby. I'm not your baby. I was your baby until you fUCKING LEFT ME!" I turned on my heel and began to stomp out of the house. I got one block away before Charlie caught up with me.

"Ryan? What's going on?" She called from behind me.

I turned around. She looked kind of angry at me. Understandable. I owe the poor girl an explanation. I grabbed her arm and pulled her over to sit with me at the side of the road.

"When I was six years old, my mom left me. My father was abusive towards me and she couldn't stand it. So what did she do? Did she tell someone? Did she leave with me? Did she call the cops? Did she do anything to protect me? No. She ran away so it was easier for her, so she didn't have to watch her little boy get hurt. But her little boy just got hurt even more. And it was her fault that it happened more, and her running away only benefited her. I haven't seen my mother since that night. Until- until I met your mom. Or should I say, our mom."

She looked deep in contemplation.

"You mean-"

"I'm your brother."

"That's- that's amazing! Come back! Oh my god, I have a brother! This is so exciting!" I shook my head.

"I'm not going back there. To see her. Sorry, kid, but she caused me way too much pain for me to just come back. I'll see you at school tomorrow. Go home, Charlie." She sighed. I stood up and started to sprint. I wasn't going home.

"Pick up, pick up..." I muttered. I was calling Brendon.

"Hello?"

"Bren. Hi. It's Ryan. I need you to pick me up. Right now. Bring me to your house. I need to talk to you." My voice broke. Tears were streaming down my face.

"Ry- Ry, are you okay?"

"Please just pick me up." I heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Okay. Where are you?" I gave him the address and he picked me up five minutes after.

"Oh thank god," I said, and he ran out of his car to me.

"Ryan! What the fuck happened? Are you okay?" He threw his arms around me. I cried a bit.

"Can we go to your house first?"

"Sure. Here, get in the car, my house is only a few blocks down." I nodded, and we got in the car and drove off.

Brendon and I walked into his house with his arm wrapped around my shoulders and he kept giving me small kisses on the cheek. His mom looked at us confused from the kitchen.

"Brendon....?" He laughed.

"Oh yeah, mom this is my boyfriend Ryan, I'll introduce you in a moment but right now I need to know why he's sad."

".......boyfriend?" Oh shit. Brendon's not out to his mom yet.

"Oh-right- Mom, I'm bi. Ok, talk to you later!"

"What?!" He sighed exasperatedly.

"I LIKE DICK AS MUCH AS I LIKE VAGINA, CAN I GO COMFORT MY BOYFRIEND NOW?!" He pulled me up the stairs and into his room.

"Ok, what's wrong, Ry?" I explained everything to him. He looked at me with sympathy and all of the sudden tackled me in a hug.

"What are you doing?" I giggled. He kissed my cheek.

"Making up for the love you didn't get from your mom. But this love's a bit different," he laughed at his own joke then continued to kiss me. He then got off of me and sat down on the side of his bed. I sat across from him on his lap and held his face in my hands as I kissed him. He pulled me against him and in that moment, I forgot about it all. I was just a normal boy making out with someone I loved. Until the door opened.

"Okay, I understand that you're bisexual, and I accept that, but do you boys want some sandwiches or-" Brendon's mom froze when she saw we were making out. Brendon glared at her.

"Mom! Ever heard of kNOCKING?! I'm in the middle of making out with someone!" She laughed.

"Come downstairs if you want any food!" She shouted and shut the door behind her.

"I've got enough food right here," Brendon muttered. I blushed brightly.

"Oh shit, I said that out loud, didn't I?" I fell off his lap laughing.

"Shut up, Ry. You wanna go get some food?" I nodded. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up off the floor, and we went downstairs to be welcomed into the kitchen by his mom.

The three of us ate small sandwiches together and talked about embarrassing Brendon stories, and for once I felt purely cared for.

I felt part of a family.