Mediocrity 50% [Brallon: Deja Vu, Book 1]

2

Brendon, Spencer, and Ryan were all crammed inside of Ryan's red Volvo. He was driving along the Interstate to the airport with Spencer riding shotgun and Brendon stretched out quite obnoxiously in the back seat. The three were on their way to pick up Taylor from the airport. She had just gotten back from her recent photography gig in France.

"You realize when we pick up Taylor you're going to have to sit up, right? She's an overpacker and her stuff might not fit in my car even without you taking up all of the space in the back seat." Ryan said, peering back at Brendon through the overhead mirror.

"I'll just dematerialize." Brendon waved a flippant hand towards Spencer and Ryan. He was scrolling through social media on his phone, bored. He was thankful to be getting out of work. He didn't want to do anything productive. Granted, he never did. It was still summer, so Ryan could pick Taylor up without having to take off a day from his teaching job, even if it was a Thursday. Spencer, as an artist, didn't really have any set hours. He was most creative at night, however, and it left Brendon often wondering when and if Spencer ever got any sleep.

Spencer was fiddling with the radio. He was a person who constantly changed channels until he found something he knew or liked. Ryan swatted his hand away from the dial when a song he liked came on.

"Leave it alone for once." Ryan said, letting go of Spencer's wrist.

"Of course he gets all annoyed with you when the Broadway channel comes on." Brendon said, cracking a smile.

"Shut up! It's better than your Vanilla Ice guilty pleasure." Ryan said, squinting.

"I do not have a Vanilla Ice guilty pleasure!" Brendon replied, his mouth dropping open.

"Brendon, you can't talk about Broadway like that. You were in Oliver." Spencer added.

"I like musicals too. I was just pointing out the obvious." Brendon sat up quickly. "Also, that reminds me that I'm mad at you for asking my mother for those recordings."

"When was the last time you talked to your mom? She said she missed you." Spencer asked, concerned.

"How did you get my mother's phone number?" Brendon responded, dodging the question.

"That's not what we're asking." Ryan said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. Traffic was now backed up and he was growing slowly more annoyed. He hoped they wouldn't be late to pick up Taylor.

Brendon sighed. "I don't want to have this conversation right now. Why can't we just have verbal sparring matches and fake arguments like normal?"

"I know... just. Why won't you talk to your mom?" Ryan asked.

"Seriously, Brendon. What's up? Ryan's your best friend and I've known you the longest. You can trust us. Always have been able to, always will be able to." Spencer added. His tone was a lot more muted than it normally was.

"That's my old life. The one The one where I have expectations put on me every second. Where if I fail it's punishable by admonishments, disappointment, and self hatred. I don't like going back there all too often. They know that. They all do. And I don't like talking about it because I was taught that expressing my emotions was whining and that was rude. I was taught that the only way to be successful was to be smart. This is my rebellion, in a way. I never got to be a teenager, not really. My parents were strict, you two know that, so I did whatever I could to please them, even if it didn't pass my own standards. I just want to be selfish and shallow for a few years. I just want my old life to leave me alone. Sure, it's a dick move, but at least I'm satisfied with myself now." Brendon mumbled, barely loud enough for Spencer and Ryan to hear him. He wrapped his arms around his waist protectively. Brendon didn't like talking about his emotions much.