Dichotomy.

I forgot something. I know I did.

I distractedly scratch at the back of my neck while I think, frowning.

“You okay?” Spencer asks, looking up from his laptop to glance curiously at me. We haven’t hit the first city of our tour yet and our first show is tomorrow night.

“Huh?” I reply, still distracted. “Oh. Yeah. Fine.”

I remembered to drop Rigby off at Tom’s sister’s place…

“You just seem…” Spencer continues.

I remembered to turn off the lights in my apartment…

“A little…off today?” he finished, probably realizing that I’ve only been half-paying attention to him.

“Oh. Yeah,” I agree. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t question me.

Maybe I forgot to leave a message on my mom’s phone to avoid a verbal goodbye?

I go back to reading my book, but can’t concentrate for too long.

Brendon walks in from the bunk area, uncharacteristically not saying a word to anyone before chugging down a bottle of water.

I sigh and get up to put the book in my bunk.

I’m about to wake Tom up in his bunk when the door slides open again.

Brendon looks at me but stays silent.

His eyes are big and brown and he has this dumb annoying look on his face but I have no idea why it bothers me so much.

“No snide remarks?” I say, without thinking.

The truth is, if I instigate, we don’t have to have to think seriously about what’s going on.

Because I know something is, even if I don’t know exactly what that something is.

…I give myself headaches just by my inane thought process.

He blinks then shrugs at me.

“No. Excuse me,” is all he says, and he sidesteps me to head for the front lounge.

And I want to know what happened to the confident prick side of Brendon.

Rewind to when he was predictable and I could at least count on consistency.

And I forgot to turn the fan off in the kitchen back home.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I’m helping Tom set up merch- well, watching Tom set up merch, at any rate.

Soundcheck isn’t for a few hours anyway, and we don’t have any press scheduled, so the day’s been dragging.

“T., grab that box for me,” Tom says, interrupting my in-thought conversation with myself.

I hop off the table and do as he asks when I see Brendon walking towards us.

“Hey,” he says. He briefly looks at me before turning his attention to Tom. “I just came by to see if you needed any help.”

“I’m already helping him,” I reply, in a tone that must sound unnecessarily aggressive.

“Right,” he says awkwardly. He walks away.

Tom glances between the two of us in confusion and I cross my arms.

“Oh, you didn’t…” he says suddenly, his mouth curling into a knowing smirk.

“Didn’t what?” I play dumb, even though I feel my cheeks turning red already.

“You slept with Brendon,” he announces matter-of-factly. His arms are crossed over his chest, and sometimes I hate having a best friend at all.

I want to deny it, but I don’t lie to Tom.

“Fuck you, Tom,” is what I reply instead.

“Why me?” he retorts, an outright mocking expression on his stupid face. “You have Brendon for that.”

The cd I throw narrowly misses his head.