Kitten

Brendon was driving as fast as he legally could, speeding towards the theatre, towards Ryan, and there were tears in his eyes as he frantically burst into the theatre.

He spotted the skinny boy standing between another two other cast members, a boy and a girl, who were circling him protectively. “Ryan!” he shouted, running for him.

Ryan looked up in surprise as the younger boy came barreling down the hall towards him.

“I love you!” Brendon screamed, full out crying as he flung himself into Ryan’s arms. “I love you so goddamn much.”

Ryan opened his mouth speak, to tell him he loved him back, but the words wouldn’t come and he could only stand there silently, holding Brendon in his arms.

“Are you crazy?” the girl hissed, glaring at Brendon. “Get out of here!”

“What?”

“Your life is on the right now,” the boy explained calmly. “You need to leave. Immediately.”

Shocked and unable to comprehend what he had just been told, Brendon quietly let Ryan take his arm and lead him back outside to his car.

“I love you, Kitten,” Brendon whispered once they were in the parking lot and he touched his forehead to Ryan’s. “And I’m sorry for what I did.”

Ryan stiffened, sliding out his notebook and asked: How did you find out?

Brendon opened the car door and pulled out a handful of the papers he had been given earlier that day. “Some guy, I think it might haven been your director, gave these to me,” he said, holding them out for Ryan to see.

The older boy flinched and turned away, clutching desperately to his notebook and pen.

“Is it true that you love me?” Brendon asked quietly, hesitantly touching Ryan’s shoulder.

Ryan didn’t say anything—he couldn’t—so he just stood there silently and watched as Brendon got into his car and drove away.

Go home, he thought as the car disappeared from his sight. Go home and lock the doors so Eric can’t hurt you.

Heart heavy with fear and unease, Ryan turned and walked back into the theatre where Lizzie and Louis were waiting for him.

“He loves you, Ryan,” Lizzie said, putting her arm around him.

Ryan nodded numbly and followed Louis into the dressing room to begin preparing for the show that night.

“You’ll do fine,” Louis said soothingly, rubbing Ryan’s shoulders.

It’s not my performance that really matters tonight, Ryan wrote, moving to find his dress on the costume rack.

“Lizzie will do fine,” Louis said in that same calm voice. “I’ve seen her work under pressure. Everything will go fine.”

Nodding, Ryan tried to force a smile onto his face as he slipped into his costume, shaking and shivering in his own skin.