Muze, Daddy

And we all try to die, struggle to fly.
And we all—

“Fuck.” Ryan snapped, throwing his journal against the door, which happened to open at exactly the wrong time, hitting Pete Wentz squarely in the chest.

“Nice, Ry.” he said, snorting.

“Er, yeah. Sorry.” He caught the journal when it was tossed back to him.

Andrea came running out of the kitchen at full speed, throwing her arms around Pete’s legs. “Hi!” she squealed, laughing when he picked her up, bouncing her in his arms.

“Hi back.” he said, letting her plant a kiss on his cheek.

Ryan watched them for a few moments, his daughter and Pete, laughing and tickling her. “They didn’t need to call you.” he said finally.

Pete looked at him, shrugging. “We all knew you’d say that.”

“Muze?” Andrea asked. “Muze?”

“Later.” Pete promised her. “I need to talk to your dad, ‘kay?” He laughed when she pouted, setting her down on the floor. She immediately ran out of the room, squawking for some unknown reason. People don’t understand you a lot when you’re three.

Pete sat down next to Ryan on the couch. “Spencer said you were talking about sending her away.”

“I’m just trying to do what’s right for her.” Ryan mumbled. “Maybe . . . maybe I should have left her with her grandparents.”

“Ryan—“

“I know everyone thinks I’m trying to send her away because I’m sick of her.” Ryan said, rushed and too loud. “But I’m not. I’m trying to be a good dad, I am. I just have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. I’m trying.”

“We know.” Pete said. “We all know that. Ry, you are a good dad. If you were shit, do you really think Andrea would be so happy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged, leaning back against the couch and massaging his temples. “She’s just so . . . and this is all so . . . I don’t know what to do anymore. I suck at this.”

“Ry,” Pete said, trying to sound patient, “you took on a kid when you had no idea what you were doing. You didn’t really have any experience with kids before Andrea. Nobody around you has any idea what they’re doing either. Of course it’s fucked up. But you’re doing a good job with her. Really.”

“Yeah?” Ryan looked up at him, not really believing it, but wanting to.

“Yeah.” Pete said, slinging an arm around the younger boy and brushing his lips against Ryan’s temple. “Really.”

* * *

Ryan scooped Andrea up with one arm and carried her into the bedroom, setting her down on the foot of his bed. She looked at him with a huge fake pout on her face. “Didn’t do it.”

“You sound like Brendon. Stop it.” He smiled and reached out to tug on her hair. “Can you be a good girl and listen to me for a minute?” She nodded twice and then put her hands in her lap like she saw the grown-ups do when they talked. Ryan smiled. “Good. I want you to be a good girl for the rest of the week. No fighting. Help me do the dishes at night. And go to bed without screaming. If you do that, I’ll take you out on a date Friday.”

“Date?” Andrea’s blue eyes lit up.

Dates were dinner and a movie. Kid-friendly restaurant and kid-friendly movie. Chocolate and flowers. Good night kiss. The type of date a woman hopes for and never gets because the man is too focused on seeing what kind of panties she wears under her skirt. Ryan and Andrea’s dates were generally on holidays. They were the only family they had.

“Date.” Ryan smiled. “You going to be a good girl for Daddy?”

“I be good.” She climbed to her feet on the bed and walked across the comforter to hug Ryan, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Then she sat back down and crawled into his lap. “Pete muze?”

“Why don’t you go ask Pete for some ‘Pete muze’?” Ryan suggested, smiling faintly when she climbed from the bed and ran off down the hallway. He could hear her shrieks and laughter and assumed—correctly—that someone had scooped her up.

Brendon appeared in the doorway, knocking twice on the frame before walking in. “I had nothing to do with Pete, just so you know.”

“I know it was Jon, Bren.” Ryan fell backward on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, not saying anything when the other boy sat down beside him. “I bribed her.”

“With what?”

“A date.” Ryan let out a bitter laugh. “The only person I go on dates with is my own daughter. How pathetic does that make me?”

“It doesn’t make you pathetic.” Brendon said. “It makes you a dad.” He paused. “It wouldn’t kill you to go on a real one though.”

Ryan sat up, sighing. “Fat chance.” He gave a smile he didn’t feel at all and stood up. “I better go make sure she’s not demolishing the house. What are we doing for supper?”

“Pizza.”

* * *

“Andrea, stop it. Andrea, come here. Spencer, stop encouraging her!” The boy gave up and covered his face with his hand, trying not to laugh. The girl was running every which way to avoid her father with Spencer chasing after making clucking noises with his tongue. Brendon intercepted, scooping the girl into his arms and depositing her into her booster seat. “Thank you.” Ryan said between his laughter, bending down to cut his daughter’s pizza. “Eat, then bathtime.” he told her.

“No bath.” She shook her head, picking up a piece of her pizza with her fingers and putting it in her mouth. “No bath.”

“Yes, bath.” Ryan ruffled her hair and sat down in his chair, practically inhaling two slices of pizza in three minutes.

“Hungry?” Jon asked, a huge grin painted on his face.

“You try chasing after a three-year-old all day and see how hungry you are.” the younger boy said, refraining from sticking his tongue out. It would only lead to Andrea doing the same with half-chewed food in her mouth.

“Soda.” Andrea said, looking at her father.

“It’s too late.” he said, shaking his head. “You can have milk.”

“No milk. Soda.” Her voice wasn’t argumentative in the slightest, which Ryan found strange. She was just telling him what she was going to drink. He wasn’t falling for it.

Brendon was closest to the fridge. He filled Andrea’s sippy cup and set it beside her plate. She took one drink and swallowed, then looked at her father with a pout on her lips. “Soda.”

Ryan leaned in, drawing his face even with hers. “Remember what we talked about? Being a good girl?”

Andrea’s bottom lip became even more pronounced, but she didn’t say anything. After she finished her pizza, it was a bath and then bed. Once Ryan had tucked her in and kissed her cheek, he wandered back out to the living room, collapsing next to Brendon on the couch. “I’m beat.”

“Go to bed then.”

“I have paperwork.” the older said, rubbing at his eyes and leaning back and tilting his head toward the ceiling.

Brendon looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “What paperwork? We don’t have album paperwork for, like, another month and a half.”

“It’s Andrea stuff.” Ryan muttered, sighing.

“What stuff?”

The older boy turned and smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” He squeezed the younger boy’s leg and walked off, running his hand along the wall as he made his way down the hallway.