Status: completed
Because I Can't Have You
you made me feel alive.
“How’s the writing coming along?” Sarah asked, opening the door to Brendon’s office.
The man—the boy?—the young man looked up from his office-chair perch, from his notebook and pens, from his line after line after line of scratched out words. “Not good,” he replied with a sigh.
The woman—the girl?—the young lady stepped gingerly into the messy room and carefully picked her way over to his side and brushed the hair out of his face. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said and kissed him on the forehead.
“I want to figure it out now!” Brendon snapped, glowering down at his notebook. “Nothing comes out right these days. I’m not as good as … not as good as … I’m not as good.” He can’t bring himself to say the name aloud, but Sarah understands what he’s trying to say.
“You’re good enough, Brendon,” Sarah said. “And that’s all that matters. You don’t have to be perfect.”
No, that was always his job, Brendon thought bitterly.
“Come to bed, sweet,” said Sarah, taking Brendon’s hand and leading him out of the office. “You deserve some rest.”
Stifling a yawn, Brendon followed obediently. “No rest for the wicked,” he mumbled under his breath. Sarah wasn’t meant to hear him and she didn’t. No rest for Ryan, he added silently and watched Sarah undress.
“Will you write me a song?” asked Sarah, once they were lying together under the covers of Brendon’s queen-sized bed.
Brendon was caught off-guard. “What?” he asked, turning to look at her. “Why?”
“Well, Ryan Ross—” She always referred to him by first and last name. “—wrote that sweet song for his girlfriend,” Sarah said and wrapped her arms around Brendon’s torso. “Nothing Matters But You. You know?”
Yes, but Z can sing, thought Brendon irritably, forehead creasing in annoyance. So it actually meant something. “You listen to their stuff?” he asked. “Why?”
“He was your friend, Brenny,” said Sarah, and she pouted and kissed him gently. “You owe him your job, you know. It wouldn’t kill you to listen to his music once in a while.”
Yeah, it would. You have no idea what listening to Change did to me. “I’ll write you a song, Sarah,” he said tiredly. “I’ll put it on the new album. ’Kay?”
Sarah smiled in the dark.
Sarah smiles, he thought and turned away from her. But it doesn’t mean anything to me.
You’ll never escape his spell.
The man—the boy?—the young man looked up from his office-chair perch, from his notebook and pens, from his line after line after line of scratched out words. “Not good,” he replied with a sigh.
The woman—the girl?—the young lady stepped gingerly into the messy room and carefully picked her way over to his side and brushed the hair out of his face. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said and kissed him on the forehead.
“I want to figure it out now!” Brendon snapped, glowering down at his notebook. “Nothing comes out right these days. I’m not as good as … not as good as … I’m not as good.” He can’t bring himself to say the name aloud, but Sarah understands what he’s trying to say.
“You’re good enough, Brendon,” Sarah said. “And that’s all that matters. You don’t have to be perfect.”
No, that was always his job, Brendon thought bitterly.
“Come to bed, sweet,” said Sarah, taking Brendon’s hand and leading him out of the office. “You deserve some rest.”
Stifling a yawn, Brendon followed obediently. “No rest for the wicked,” he mumbled under his breath. Sarah wasn’t meant to hear him and she didn’t. No rest for Ryan, he added silently and watched Sarah undress.
“Will you write me a song?” asked Sarah, once they were lying together under the covers of Brendon’s queen-sized bed.
Brendon was caught off-guard. “What?” he asked, turning to look at her. “Why?”
“Well, Ryan Ross—” She always referred to him by first and last name. “—wrote that sweet song for his girlfriend,” Sarah said and wrapped her arms around Brendon’s torso. “Nothing Matters But You. You know?”
Yes, but Z can sing, thought Brendon irritably, forehead creasing in annoyance. So it actually meant something. “You listen to their stuff?” he asked. “Why?”
“He was your friend, Brenny,” said Sarah, and she pouted and kissed him gently. “You owe him your job, you know. It wouldn’t kill you to listen to his music once in a while.”
Yeah, it would. You have no idea what listening to Change did to me. “I’ll write you a song, Sarah,” he said tiredly. “I’ll put it on the new album. ’Kay?”
Sarah smiled in the dark.
Sarah smiles, he thought and turned away from her. But it doesn’t mean anything to me.
You’ll never escape his spell.
♠ ♠ ♠
Irritable Brendon is irritable.And Sarah is actually a rather sweet girl.