Watch me// Ryden • Brallon

4. Fight me for him

Ryan pulls sellotape off the reel with his teeth before using to stick another poster up on a lamppost on top of an advert for some charity, because, priorities.

"You think anyone will turn up?" He bites his lip, unsmilingly studying his handiwork.
"I guess, we didn't put our names on it"

They wouldn't be stupid enough to advertise exactly who was running the band auditions, not with the amount of superstition surrounding their names put together.

"Maybe they'll turn up, recognise us, and immediately leave"
Ryan was ever the optimistic one.

"Nah they'll stay, you're cute"
"I'd say you are too but I'm not a liar"
"No you're just a bitch"
"Language, Weekes"
"God, don't call me that"
"Gods not the one calling you that"
Dallon laughed, the loud, sudden, uncontrollable laugh that takes you by surprise. Genuine and wasted on the joke that Ryan didn't even think was that good.

Not a block later Dallon started to whinge.
"How many more posters?" He was pouting, pulling Ryans hands as he walked
"My feet hurt"
"Its been like half an hour, Dall"
"So" he grabs the shorter boys wrists again, making him drop the posters in a puddle.

It was pathetic really, the wet paper lying on the dirty ground, and Ryan was tempted to think it was a metaphor, the band lying dead and abandoned, dropped by their own hands. He looked at the spots of chewing gum on the ground, each dropped, spat out, another rejected idea that didn't even get to the 'poster' stage. Let alone a real stage.

He steadied his breathing and turned back to his friend
"Dallon!"
"Can't put them up now?"
"You're such a dick"

'You just wanna see my dick' was perched on Dallon's tongue, a perfect comeback, it may seem, but he didn't say it. Not to be nice, but he knew Ryan wouldn't appreciate it, it was too close too the truth perhaps, or some bullshit excuse to do with Dallon's immaturity. Oh well. Maybe it was true, maybe he just wished it were true.

Either way, it was probably a good thing he didn't say it as they were interrupted by two girls, 'yousayit's' being whispered between them, the brunette spoke up
"Are you, uh, the guys who dated even though you aren't soulmates, and, uh, are you still going"
"We-" began Ryan..
"As strong as ever" supplied Dallon, smirking and catching Ryans hand in his own.
"Really" the blond ones eyes were wide.

Ryan cuts in, pulling his fingers out of Dallon's and glaring "we're not a couple and we never were"
"Stop breaking my heart"
"You are such a dick"
Ryan rolled his eyes and shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, and perhaps he already missed the warmth of the other boy, but no one needs to know that, to know how dependent he was on simply momentary touches that seemed to happen far to often.

And so it continued, the girls laughed and got away as soon as they could, and Ryan tried not to look into the other boys eyes as he pretended to be annoyed, because he knew a moment of contact would be all that was needed for him to forgive Dallon, to fall further down this rabbit hole, his fingers couldn't hold on to the sides that much longer as it was, the momentary purchase falling apart in comparison to his best friends warm hands and the unforgettable blue of Dallons eyes.

Ryan was biting his lip, Dallon was acting cool but talking too much, his knees shaking slightly, which gave away just how fake his composure was.

The first 'victim' sang Boulevard of Broken Dreams, his fedora putting them off but his voice surprisingly good.
"I-I'd rather sing soul, if, yeah"
"If what?"
"Just, like, if that works for you guys"
"We'll probably recall you at some point and try some of our songs with your voice and drums and guitar and stuff"
"Yeah, yeah ok"
Dallon smiles at him, Ryan kept pulling away at the skin on his lower lip, it had started to bleed.

"We have a shortlist for drums, and there was some good singing, and there's us, and, yeah." Dallon stops listing and puts his arm around his 'best friend'.
"Its ok Ry, no one hates you"

No, not hatred, but something else, something that singles Ryan out, some would say it's jealousy, of what? Dallon? Music? Neither good enough reasons to become the odd one out on a delicately balanced heirachy. Perhaps its fear, perhaps they think the little lost boy who clings to his best friend is contagious, perhaps he simply disgusts them.

And maybe you could call him content, his best friend leaning against him, occasionally reading things out to make him smile, a fully tuned guitar in his lap and a million tunes to play on it in his head.

Or you could say he was lonely, drowning himself in a sea of music because he didn't have enough people who cared to pull him out.

I guess this is why they haven't talked, Why nothing serious could ever happen, because Dallons the only one keeping Ryan floating, and he doesn't care to sink before he's even left high school. I guess this is why Dallon can make him laugh, and make him feel safe, but he cant make him trust him. Not beyond the end of this room, he can know almost everything but Ryan cannot entrust him with his heart.
And vice versa. 

Ryans torn from whatever solitary dreams he finds himself in as the door bursts open and a boy runs in, panting. He runs his fingers through his brown hair
"Hi, you, uh, still open for auditions? I thought I may have missed it"
"We don't have a specified time window, so, yeah, what's your name and what do you play?"
The guy stands up, and despite his damp hair and obvious sweating, he's insanely good looking and Ryan and Dallon catch eyes.
"I sing" he says and Ryan nods.
"Name?"
"I'm, uh' Brendon"
Dallon turns to him, a grin on his face.
"Fight you for him?"
Ryan laughs
"You're on"