I'm Not My Father

"You're going to turn into your father," he said and my head snapped up. I met his eyes and saw nothing but his concern. I ignored it.

"Don't say that," I spat angrily. "How dare you come here and say that?" I'd only just opened the door and he was already hurting me.

"You know I'm right, Ry," Brendon said and I glared at him.

"I don’t know anything," I said. He didn't know what I was going through, that I needed to do this. How else was I going to forget...or make myself feel better?

"Ryan, please," he said desperately. "Talk to me."

"Why should I?" I asked, moving further away from him.

"You used to be able to tell me anything," Brendon said sadly, pulling at my heart strings. I forced any tender thoughts I had towards him out of my head.

"Things change," I said. I hadn’t meant to sound upset, I had meant to sound uncaring, but I knew Brendon could hear my sadness.

"Ryan," Brendon said desperately and I turned and glared at him.

"Why are you here?" I asked him and I saw him frown slightly before covering it up again. He didn't reply for a while and then his face cracked and tears pooled in his eyes.

"We're worried about you," he said and I rolled my eyes. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," I said as I walked through to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and took out a beer, not offering one to Brendon, knowing that he wouldn’t want one. He followed me, saw the can in my hands and his eyes saddened even more. I glared at him as I opened the can and raised it to my lips. However, before I could drink anything, Brendon had wrapped his hand around my wrist and was forcing my hand away. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked angrily.

"I'm trying to help you," he said.

"Why?" I asked spitefully. "You never cared about me before..."

"That's not true, Ryan," he said and I refused to hear the regret in his voice.

"Obviously it is," I said. Brendon's grip tightened on my wrist, causing me to drop the can. I watched it fall to the floor and then looked up at Brendon again, still glaring. "What the fuck!?"

"Don't, for one second, believe that I never cared about you," he said, his voice low and cold. I stared into his eyes defiantly.

"Why not?" I asked, ripping my arm out of his grip. I stalked away from him again, desperately trying to escape.

I went through to the living room, but he was still following me. "I lov-"

"Don't!" I shouted, turning round and glaring at him. "Don't say that!" And yet...I was desperate to hear him say it. I needed someone to say it to me.

"But it's true, Ryan," he said, not responding to my anger. "And I hate what you're doing to yourself."

"What I'm doing to myself?" I asked, shocked. "I'm not doing this to myself. Do you think I want to be like this? This is because of you. You did this to me." Brendon bit his lip and shook his head. I could see him trying to convince himself that what I was saying wasn't true.

"You started this when you..." he said and I turned away from him, not wanting to see his pain.

"I didn't do anything," I said. All my anger was gone now, all that was left was pain, hurt and...regret. Regret that it didn't work.

"What the fuck do you mean you didn't do anything?" Brendon shouted. I wanted to smile grimly – it was his turn to be angry now. "You went off, with Jon, you barely spoke to me anymore. You were always too busy for me!" I turned back to Brendon. He had tears on his cheeks but anger was the dominant emotion in his eyes.

"No," I whispered. I never meant to be like that. I never wanted to be too busy for him. I loved him. "No! It was you. You didn't care anymore, you just...didn't care about our music anymore. And-And just because I didn't see you as much as I used to, doesn’t give you the right to go and sleep with someone else!"

I'd finally said it. The thing we'd been dancing around for months. Both of us knew it had happened, neither of us wanted to talk about it. In the end, that's what this was all about – what drove me to leave the band, what drove me to alcohol and drugs. I forced the image out of my head when I had caught him fucking some random, nameless guy. "Ryan," Brendon choked. I looked up and saw he was crying, tears running in torrents down his cheek. I looked away in disgust. I wasn't disgusted at him. No, I was disgusted at myself for wanting to go over to him, hold him and tell him I forgive him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't say that," I said, my voice low. "Because you're not."

"I am!" Brendon said, rushing to my side. "Ryan, you don’t understand how sorry I am! I miss you." His hands clung onto my shirt, hoping to pull me back into his embrace. And I knew if I let him continue to touch me, I wouldn’t last long. I pulled away and turned to him.

"Why did you do it?" I whispered, looking deep into his eyes, trying to spot whether he was lying. True, we hadn’t seen each other for a couple of months, but we still knew each other better than we knew ourselves.

"I..." Brendon started. He looked down, took a deep breath, and then back up into my eyes. "I was jealous." I frowned slightly, confused. "You...you and Jon were...so much time together...and...I...I..." Brendon trailed off as he started crying.

"You thought I cheated on you...?" I asked, horrified. Brendon just nodded. I stared at him as he cried and tried to see my actions through his point of view. He was right. I had been spending a lot of time with Jon. And he was right. I had been putting him second to my music.

I then, finally, allowed myself to do something I had been strictly forbidding myself to do. I reached out and wrapped my arms around the sobbing Brendon. He immediately moved into my arms, wrapped his arms around me and cried into my chest. I closed my eyes and laid my head on top of Brendon's. "I'm sorry," I whispered into Brendon's soft hair. But he shook his head. For a heart stopping moment I thought he wasn't going to accept my apology, but then he squeaked.

"No, I'm sorry," he said and I smiled and tightened my arms around him. "I shouldn’t have been jealous."

"I shouldn’t have put my music first," I said softly.

"But that's who you are, Ry," he whispered and I pulled back and looked down at him. I brushed my fingers over his cheek, wiping away the remains of his tears.

"And you're jealous," I whispered, realisation suddenly hitting me. Brendon frowned, hurt. "And I knew that. I knew you were the jealous type...it's part of what I..." I paused slightly and gazed into his eyes. "...what I love about you. I'm sorry." Brendon smiled and shook his head.

"It's okay," he whispered, leaning his head back on my chest.

I closed my eyes again as I held him tightly to me. God, I was never letting him go again. I thought I needed the alcohol and drugs...but I don’t. They were just substitutes, filling up an empty hole. I had all I needed right here. "Ryan," Brendon whispered, not lifting his head from my chest.

"Hmm," I murmured.

"I love you," he whispered and I smiled.

"I love you, too," I whispered and I felt his smile against my chest. I pulled away and Brendon gazed up at me. I smiled down at him and stroked his jaw before pressing my lips against his in a tender, loving kiss. God, I thought I'd never be able to do that again and I enjoyed every second of it. Brendon pulled away grinning and I smiled back. But his smile quickly vanished.

"And I'm sorry about what I said earlier," he whispered. "You're not your father. And you never will be."