FEVERISH [RYDEN] [REPOST]

THE BEAUTY OF INDIVIDUALITY AND FUCKED UP INFIDELITIES

Half of a year later, on a five am morning that smelled of sweat and teenage boy hormones.

"Bus. Bus. Boys, get on the goddamn bus!"

"Yes, we know!" Brendon flew by him on the tips of his toes, aimlessly throwing a duffel bag into the compartment.

"I won't be with you! You have to control your damn selves!"

"We know, Pete, Jesus!"

"This is your first headlining tou-"

"Pete! We've played a tour before!"

Yes, Brendon thought, a 24/7 tour that we couldn't breathe on, captured in silent glances and 'I'll touch you laters.'

"Not headlining! And you arrogant motherfuckers leave tomorrow, and I won't be at every sho-"

"Pete, Jesus, calm your tits."

Ryan leaned up against the side of the bus, a toothpick clamped in between his lips. While it made some look like some podunk overall-farmer, on Ryan it looked like he hadn't bothered to fuck with cigarettes.

It looked cool.

Or maybe, Brendon was biased.

Just a little.

"Calm my- calm my-ugh!" He threw his arms in the air in exasperation, causing Ryan to give a slight smirk at the reaction he had elicited.

Brendon caught his gaze, and shot him a smile.

They still hadn't figured this whole... thing out.

And they were leaving to be confined on a bus for months together, tomorrow.

"Where's Brent?" Spencer asked, shoving Brendon into Ryan with an indignant noise.

"Good question."

"Before you asshats figure that out, I need to put out ground rules. Sit."

"On the paveme-"

"Sit."

The three boys sat instantly, tucking their legs under themselves against the gritty road, Ryan brushing off his pants before he sat down.

"Tour rules. Do you know them? Do you understand them?"

"Yes, Pe-" Spencer starts, before being cut off.

"Not the typical ones. The good ones."

The three boys rolled their eyes so far back in their heads that they could probably see their brains. This only seemed to send Pete into an even deeper frenzy, a frenzy that made them wonder if they only saw him stoned.

"No no no no! Rule number one. If you fuck them on tour, doesn't count. Your girlfriends don't need to know, and you stick up for one another! Rule two. You are professionals, now! You exist to please. You please the crowd, you please the label, you please the interviews. Rule three! If there is someone who does not fit with your professional abilities-" Pete mimed slitting his throat. "They're done."

This caused Spencer and Ryan to create a shared glance, a bond woven with the thread of lifetime-long friendship.

The hieroglyphics in their hive mind whispered one thing:

Brent.

They turned back, Ryan knawing on his lip as Spencer got lost, deep in thought.

Brendon tapped his thigh.

"And, when is Jac coming?"

"For a couple shows in the middle," Ryan said, his voice dull.

"And when is Audrey coming?"