Randy||bxb||Roadtrip Oneshots

More than this pt.2

Relationship status: fake relationship
:::12.52

"Hey, Andy." Rye left it at that, leaning down to brush his lips against the older's cheek.

He didn't seem bothered or surprised. They still had not spoken, so Rye was sure Andy was told the plan beforehand. At least their greeting.

"Hey Rye, I would be more formal, but it would look odd for the cameras hiding over there," he chuckled and threw his head back as if Rye had said something amusing. Rye thought that he would have made a great actor. With that smile. "Should we head inside?"

Rye nodded and took the hand Andy was offering. The much smaller hand wasn't as soft as one could have imagined; calluses from years of playing the guitar. Rye's considerably larger hands were, also, more delicate as he didn't play anything but the piano.

"Sure," and with another blinding smile from the brunet, they headed inside.

They were seated by a young blond who seemed stunned by their presence at the small lunch restaurant. Yet, she collected herself rather quickly and sat them down at a two-person table by a window.

Andy felt exposed, but it wasn't an unusual feeling, so he let it go. It was the point, after all, to be seen - together.

Rye decidedly that they probably weren't going to be left alone for long, so he took his chance to talk now.

"So listen," he was almost whispering over the table - you never knew who could be listening, "I'm gonna be honest, mate. I don't know a lot about you. I was put here like I assume you were too. Nonetheless, if we're gonna have to spend the next year together I wanna be friends. We don't have to be BFFs, just mates."

The look he gave the older boy would have been hard to read for an outsider. However, Andy understood the plea; you didn't meet a lot of decent people in this industry and Rye seemed genuine. He didn't want to spend time with someone who he couldn't stand.

"Thank you! That would be great!" The relief must have been obvious in his voice too because a small smile played at the other singer's lips. "-wait did you just say a year?"

He had been told 6-7 months. It was a long time, but it somehow felt more real in years.

"Yeah?" The smile had quickly been exchanged for an expression of confusion. Was he wrong?

"Oh my god," Andy sighed shook his head. "I'm getting quite tired of never knowing the fuck is going on."

"Welcome to the club," leaning back in his seat, knowing that they would get along fine; Rye felt like the world wasn't ending after all. Maybe this whole shit show would give him a friend.

:::16.21

"So have you heard the song yet?" Andy's question comes almost as a surprise to the younger. After a couple of hours, a lot of time had been spent interacting with fans and avoiding them, still, they hadn't really touched on music.

Music. They both loved it more than anything. The way you could create something brand new and make it as complex or simple as you pleased, was breathtaking. It was years of listening, inhaling. Then to finally write, develop, and write more, exhaling.

"For once I actually have." Kicking a small pebble into the lake they were walking past, how was he supposed to say that he has never heard something so basic and dull in his life. He knew that it'll be a hit as soon as he heard it. That was the problem. The music was made for earphones only; not for a live audience; not for the performer. It was a love-story watered down into the affection and the feeling of whatever-we-could-think-of-for-the-chorus.

"I can't say I'm a huge fan," he said watching a second pebble hitting the surface of the water.

"Oh, you're too nice. Let's be real-" the look the blond gave Rye said he knew exactly what he meant. "- it's so basic. There's nothing special about it. I think it's the worst they've done to a song. Apparently the original was too direct and gay or something. I don't even know. It doesn't matter; it's not the same song anymore."

"You write?"

"Yeah, none of it's used for anything though." The way Andy said that made Rye want to tell him about all the scrapped songs that he wrote. Yet, he didn't; this wasn't about him. "I write they change, I-" another sigh "- I just wish I knew what I signed up for."

"Tell me about it."

"Will you let me hear the original song sometime?"

Yeah, Rye's different.

:::19.02

"Well, hello there," Rye opens the door to the studio. After multiple visits, he knew his way up without help. The feeling of being just like real friends had taken some getting used too. Nonetheless, after multiple "dates", recording and releasing their hated radio song, and being put in various interviews, they knew each other. The quickest way to get to know someone was just to spend 8 weeks with them straight. Which they had.

"Hiiiiii," a snort came from Rye; the greeting was always weird and always new.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Just something for me, I'm not even recording it."

"Can I hear it? Please" Rye almost sang his question, like he always would when he wanted something from the older man.

"It's not done, but I promise to play it for you once it's more than a half-finished melody with odd lyrics." Andy was one of the few who had grown used to Rye's tactics. He stood against alone with the brunet's mum.

"Pinky promise?" A small voice asked with big eyes, Rye was quickly transferring over to guilt. Holding out his - much larger - pinky in a pretend shy manner. Andy didn't buy it for a second but, nonetheless, promised.

From the outside, the way they looked at each other could definitely be taken the way their publicist wanted. Still, they were both idiots. Not seeing the other clearly, signals being continuously missed. Hinting and protecting their own heart.
:::
Hi 👋

I hope you enjoyed this one-shot. I will continue with this story, and the next chapter will - hopefully - be up next week, but I may take longer. I think the next part will be the final part(no promises).

Happy Friday!

Jo xx