Elegant Crimes
f a l l o n y o u r e a r s f r o m c r i m i n a l d i m e s
It’s cold in winter. He knows that, but the shock of stepping out into the snow laden streets still hits him afresh every morning and stops him in his tracks. It takes a minute before he remembers to shut the door and lock it, to then carry on down the street as normal. He wears a striped scarf, blue and white and grey horizontal lines of thick, warm cashmere like material that fly out behind him with the wind. He's got a white woolly hat to match which sports two flaps that come down over his ears and have dangling ropes of wool that finish in pompoms. His hands are hidden in the pockets of his jacket, a large, black monstrosity that swallows him completely into warmth.
The walk is light and happy; his music is playing loud in his ears and he’s going to visit her. Her rainbow nail polish and glittery eyelids can brighten any room, and today Brendon needs it. Needs it like he needs the blood in his veins and the breath puffing out before his face. He needs the happiness; he needs to forget last night and Ryan’s devastated face and sad eyes.
No. Brendon’s going to make a new start with Cassidy. He knows she’s the girl for him; their romance will be one the fans will sigh over and daydream about. But Ryan; Ryan could have written him the greatest love songs and-
And nothing. Brendon’s made his choice now and it was the right choice. Right?
They were at Ryan’s place, playing video games as usual. There were two beer cans on the table and two in the bin, and two ready to be drunk in the fridge. There were two beanbags covered in a blue pattern that made Brendon think of Ryan’s hippie vintage clothes. Everything was in twos; it always was. Two candles on the windowsill giving off a scent that made Brendon think of fresh clothes and lemon shampoo. There’s a pen on top of a notepad open at a page full of messy handwriting and scribbled out thoughts that don’t fit. The music to fit these lyrics will be another fight when Brendon rejects the Beatles-esque music and insists on the sound the fans adore. It’s a fight Brendon doesn’t want but can’t stop, but he knows it’s draining them all. Spencer can barely keep the peace on the bus, so maybe it’s a good idea that they don’t finish this album, don’t go back on tour.
Ryan’s beating him at Mario Kart, probably because he drove into a cow again. Alcohol doesn’t help him concentrate at all, he ponders, but he hasn’t had enough to drink to allow himself be beaten by six places. He slams the buttons down and twists the remote more than probably necessary, but he still comes in fourth. Ryan, from the whoop of joy and horrific dancing has won for the first time in his life, and most likely last. Brendon looks up and his face meets Ryan’s.
No, Cassidy. He’s almost at her house and he’s thinking about Ryan – the wrong person. The wrong person with the right lips and curves that he can remember so well after last night- But Cassidy, yes, Cassidy. Her voice is pretty, not like Ryan’s, and her hair is glossy; she dresses nicely and her make-up is always neat, boring compared to Ryan’s.
He walks up her path and through her gate, walking in without waiting for her, a knock as an afterthought so she’s not too surprised. She smiles, running from her perch on the couch and kisses him-
His lips are soft, but wet and he tastes like beer and stale gum. He grasps Brendon’s head and brings it close with a little too much force and crushes their noses together with the kind of force only a Jedi should have. He’s wearing ridiculous clothing that chafes at Brendon’s exposed skin where his shirt rides up and his hair is cut in a neglectful fashion, but Brendon just wants to tangle his fingers up in it.
Cassidy steps back, smiling. He can’t stop comparing her every move to Ryan’s – she walks bouncier than him, but her back foot twists slightly as she walks and gives her ass a jiggle. She wears modern clothing (something that can’t be said for Ryan) and listens to the latest music on the radio. She is nothing like Ryan; nothing. Her smile turns to a frown of concern as she leads him into the house and sits him down on the sofa. Brendon can feel her leaning against him, her feet curled up beneath her as she loans all of her body weight onto him and giggles. “Lets watch a movie!” she grins, and Brendon can’t help but force one back at her. She’s feminine in the wrong way. At least with Ryan it’s accidental.
The movie's not all that good. To be honest, he can kind of see through it and predict what's going to happen next, but when he does Cassidy slaps him and tells him in a loud voice to be quiet. She means well, but his attention's not focused at all on the movie and Gerard Butler's too old to be with this chick. Halfway through -- the chick's thrown in the towel and confessed her love for Butler, but he's not interested -- Cassidy's arm sneaks around him and she climbs on top of his lap. Attaching her lips to her neck, she beings to hoover his skin between her lips. "Cass, Cass: hey! Ouch!" She just bit him.
"Sorry babe, I guess I got carried away."
"Look, I guess I'm just not into you tonight." Brendon replies, fixing his eyes to the floor as he stands up. "Shit! I meant it! I meant to say it!" He leans forward on the sofa and rests his head in his hands. "I'm so out of it tonight."
His phone rings – “You will only hear these elegant crimes, fall on your ears from criminal dimes, the spill unfound from a—“ It’s Ryan’s voice singing the song, the demo he played for them all at their first band meeting about the new album. Brendon stares at it for too long in a silence that’s both treacherous and comforting because he knows Cassidy isn’t stupid.
“You gave him a personal ringtone.” Brendon tries to interject, but the attempt is half-hearted and he knows where this is going. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t try to stop it. “We’ve been dating three months and I’m on the default ringtone, but Ryan gets a personalized one? Does Spencer have a special ringtone? Does Jon? You fucker – I knew, but you swore to me that you loved me! I knew the moment I saw you on stage for the first time. And then you kept blowing off our dates for him, or the band. ‘Ryan’s over for the weekend from New York and I haven’t seen him for ages!’ or ‘The band’s just gonna go hang out at Ryan’s, is that okay?’”
“You know what? Just leave and go back to your precious Ryan.”
-------
You will only hear these elegant crimes
Fall on your ears from criminal dimes
They spill unfound from a pretty mouth
“I’ve been lying to myself for months I guess. Cass too.” Brendon walked home again, kicking loose stones in the dark like a stroppy teenager. “I bet Ryan knew, and that’s why he wrote that song. Elegant crimes; stupid lyricist.”
Standing outside Ryan’s front door, Brendon couldn’t bring himself to knock. The courage (desperation) that brought him to this red door can’t bring him to knock on it, no matter how festive it looks with the wreath. He stares at his phone fixatedly as though it has all the answers and suddenly it does. “Sorry.” He texts, “I come in peace.” Seconds later a suspicious Ryan pops his head out the door and locks eyes with a red Brendon. “I’m sorry Ryan. I was stupid.”
“Yeah, you were. Asshole.” And Ryan’s flying off the top step and wrapping his arms around Brendon’s cold neck. “Inside. Now."
The walk is light and happy; his music is playing loud in his ears and he’s going to visit her. Her rainbow nail polish and glittery eyelids can brighten any room, and today Brendon needs it. Needs it like he needs the blood in his veins and the breath puffing out before his face. He needs the happiness; he needs to forget last night and Ryan’s devastated face and sad eyes.
No. Brendon’s going to make a new start with Cassidy. He knows she’s the girl for him; their romance will be one the fans will sigh over and daydream about. But Ryan; Ryan could have written him the greatest love songs and-
And nothing. Brendon’s made his choice now and it was the right choice. Right?
They were at Ryan’s place, playing video games as usual. There were two beer cans on the table and two in the bin, and two ready to be drunk in the fridge. There were two beanbags covered in a blue pattern that made Brendon think of Ryan’s hippie vintage clothes. Everything was in twos; it always was. Two candles on the windowsill giving off a scent that made Brendon think of fresh clothes and lemon shampoo. There’s a pen on top of a notepad open at a page full of messy handwriting and scribbled out thoughts that don’t fit. The music to fit these lyrics will be another fight when Brendon rejects the Beatles-esque music and insists on the sound the fans adore. It’s a fight Brendon doesn’t want but can’t stop, but he knows it’s draining them all. Spencer can barely keep the peace on the bus, so maybe it’s a good idea that they don’t finish this album, don’t go back on tour.
Ryan’s beating him at Mario Kart, probably because he drove into a cow again. Alcohol doesn’t help him concentrate at all, he ponders, but he hasn’t had enough to drink to allow himself be beaten by six places. He slams the buttons down and twists the remote more than probably necessary, but he still comes in fourth. Ryan, from the whoop of joy and horrific dancing has won for the first time in his life, and most likely last. Brendon looks up and his face meets Ryan’s.
No, Cassidy. He’s almost at her house and he’s thinking about Ryan – the wrong person. The wrong person with the right lips and curves that he can remember so well after last night- But Cassidy, yes, Cassidy. Her voice is pretty, not like Ryan’s, and her hair is glossy; she dresses nicely and her make-up is always neat, boring compared to Ryan’s.
He walks up her path and through her gate, walking in without waiting for her, a knock as an afterthought so she’s not too surprised. She smiles, running from her perch on the couch and kisses him-
His lips are soft, but wet and he tastes like beer and stale gum. He grasps Brendon’s head and brings it close with a little too much force and crushes their noses together with the kind of force only a Jedi should have. He’s wearing ridiculous clothing that chafes at Brendon’s exposed skin where his shirt rides up and his hair is cut in a neglectful fashion, but Brendon just wants to tangle his fingers up in it.
Cassidy steps back, smiling. He can’t stop comparing her every move to Ryan’s – she walks bouncier than him, but her back foot twists slightly as she walks and gives her ass a jiggle. She wears modern clothing (something that can’t be said for Ryan) and listens to the latest music on the radio. She is nothing like Ryan; nothing. Her smile turns to a frown of concern as she leads him into the house and sits him down on the sofa. Brendon can feel her leaning against him, her feet curled up beneath her as she loans all of her body weight onto him and giggles. “Lets watch a movie!” she grins, and Brendon can’t help but force one back at her. She’s feminine in the wrong way. At least with Ryan it’s accidental.
The movie's not all that good. To be honest, he can kind of see through it and predict what's going to happen next, but when he does Cassidy slaps him and tells him in a loud voice to be quiet. She means well, but his attention's not focused at all on the movie and Gerard Butler's too old to be with this chick. Halfway through -- the chick's thrown in the towel and confessed her love for Butler, but he's not interested -- Cassidy's arm sneaks around him and she climbs on top of his lap. Attaching her lips to her neck, she beings to hoover his skin between her lips. "Cass, Cass: hey! Ouch!" She just bit him.
"Sorry babe, I guess I got carried away."
"Look, I guess I'm just not into you tonight." Brendon replies, fixing his eyes to the floor as he stands up. "Shit! I meant it! I meant to say it!" He leans forward on the sofa and rests his head in his hands. "I'm so out of it tonight."
His phone rings – “You will only hear these elegant crimes, fall on your ears from criminal dimes, the spill unfound from a—“ It’s Ryan’s voice singing the song, the demo he played for them all at their first band meeting about the new album. Brendon stares at it for too long in a silence that’s both treacherous and comforting because he knows Cassidy isn’t stupid.
“You gave him a personal ringtone.” Brendon tries to interject, but the attempt is half-hearted and he knows where this is going. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t try to stop it. “We’ve been dating three months and I’m on the default ringtone, but Ryan gets a personalized one? Does Spencer have a special ringtone? Does Jon? You fucker – I knew, but you swore to me that you loved me! I knew the moment I saw you on stage for the first time. And then you kept blowing off our dates for him, or the band. ‘Ryan’s over for the weekend from New York and I haven’t seen him for ages!’ or ‘The band’s just gonna go hang out at Ryan’s, is that okay?’”
“You know what? Just leave and go back to your precious Ryan.”
-------
You will only hear these elegant crimes
Fall on your ears from criminal dimes
They spill unfound from a pretty mouth
“I’ve been lying to myself for months I guess. Cass too.” Brendon walked home again, kicking loose stones in the dark like a stroppy teenager. “I bet Ryan knew, and that’s why he wrote that song. Elegant crimes; stupid lyricist.”
Standing outside Ryan’s front door, Brendon couldn’t bring himself to knock. The courage (desperation) that brought him to this red door can’t bring him to knock on it, no matter how festive it looks with the wreath. He stares at his phone fixatedly as though it has all the answers and suddenly it does. “Sorry.” He texts, “I come in peace.” Seconds later a suspicious Ryan pops his head out the door and locks eyes with a red Brendon. “I’m sorry Ryan. I was stupid.”
“Yeah, you were. Asshole.” And Ryan’s flying off the top step and wrapping his arms around Brendon’s cold neck. “Inside. Now."