Swimming in Your Subconscious
Chapter Two
Checking the clock that was hanging over the couch was a daunting task to Brendon. It was almost like the clock was challenging him to look away. It was as if his brown eyes were glued on the swinging pendulum and moving hands. It was like he had an obsessive compulsion disorder with the time.
Maybe he did. Either way, it didn’t bother him that much. What bothered him was that the mail still hasn’t come. Relentlessly trying to calm his nerves, Brendon picked up his cell phone and called Spencer. Waiting impatiently for his best fried to pick the phone up, Brendon anxiously tapped his thin, long fingers against the wooden paneling on the table. He was just about to hang up when Spencer finally picked up on the other line.
“Hello?” Spencer said from the side.
Brendon smiled. He could just imagine the bright blue eyes on the other line. He chuckled to himself. “Hey. What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“We just talked like two days ago.”
“Well…” Brendon trailed off, feeling quite awkward. There was a moment of silence before he remembered why he called in the first place. “Oh, have you decided anymore on the album?”
“The new one?”
“What other one do we have?”
“Oh,” Spencer muttered. “I thought you were talking about something else.”
Brendon was confused. What was he talking about? Then it hit him. “You finally listened to it, didn’t you? How was it. Don’t lie to me Spencer.”
Spencer sighed over the phone. “Aww, come on Brendon. This just isn’t the time to talk about it, especially over the phone.”
“How was it?” Brendon said. He was completely ignoring Spencer’s last few remarks, but he didn’t care. “How were the songs? Were they about me?” He knew he was being blunt, but he had to know the truth.
“I don’t know,” Spencer said with an edge to his voice. “You know how Ryan is with his lyrics. They’re cryptic as shit. You’ll just have to find out yourself.”
Brendon felt his heart beating faster and faster by the second. He looked over at his computer desk and saw the album that he had never listened to. He wanted to listen to it more than anything, but just the thought of hearing Ryan’s voice was enough to destroy his already heavily bruised heart.
“Are you still there?” Spencer asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Look Brendon, I honestly don’t know what to say. All I know is that Ryan loves you. I know he does. I could just see it in the way he use to look at you and how he was around you. You don’t let true love like that go. Ryan’s just going through a rough time.”
“Going through a rough time?” Brendon yelled through tears over the phone. “It’s been two fucking years!”
“Do you want me to come over?”
Once again, Brendon ignored his question. “He told me he would write to me! When he left the band, he said that he would send me letters and postcards every day. I haven’t got a single damn thing! What if they’re getting sent to the wrong place or getting misplaced and lost? What if he forgot the address or something? What if he forgot about me?”
Without even waiting to hear a response from Spencer, Brendon hung up the phone and threw it at the wall. He was secretly hoping that it would hit the mirror and break it, just to put him out of his misery. He folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them.
He wished the pain would melt away.
Maybe he did. Either way, it didn’t bother him that much. What bothered him was that the mail still hasn’t come. Relentlessly trying to calm his nerves, Brendon picked up his cell phone and called Spencer. Waiting impatiently for his best fried to pick the phone up, Brendon anxiously tapped his thin, long fingers against the wooden paneling on the table. He was just about to hang up when Spencer finally picked up on the other line.
“Hello?” Spencer said from the side.
Brendon smiled. He could just imagine the bright blue eyes on the other line. He chuckled to himself. “Hey. What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“We just talked like two days ago.”
“Well…” Brendon trailed off, feeling quite awkward. There was a moment of silence before he remembered why he called in the first place. “Oh, have you decided anymore on the album?”
“The new one?”
“What other one do we have?”
“Oh,” Spencer muttered. “I thought you were talking about something else.”
Brendon was confused. What was he talking about? Then it hit him. “You finally listened to it, didn’t you? How was it. Don’t lie to me Spencer.”
Spencer sighed over the phone. “Aww, come on Brendon. This just isn’t the time to talk about it, especially over the phone.”
“How was it?” Brendon said. He was completely ignoring Spencer’s last few remarks, but he didn’t care. “How were the songs? Were they about me?” He knew he was being blunt, but he had to know the truth.
“I don’t know,” Spencer said with an edge to his voice. “You know how Ryan is with his lyrics. They’re cryptic as shit. You’ll just have to find out yourself.”
Brendon felt his heart beating faster and faster by the second. He looked over at his computer desk and saw the album that he had never listened to. He wanted to listen to it more than anything, but just the thought of hearing Ryan’s voice was enough to destroy his already heavily bruised heart.
“Are you still there?” Spencer asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Look Brendon, I honestly don’t know what to say. All I know is that Ryan loves you. I know he does. I could just see it in the way he use to look at you and how he was around you. You don’t let true love like that go. Ryan’s just going through a rough time.”
“Going through a rough time?” Brendon yelled through tears over the phone. “It’s been two fucking years!”
“Do you want me to come over?”
Once again, Brendon ignored his question. “He told me he would write to me! When he left the band, he said that he would send me letters and postcards every day. I haven’t got a single damn thing! What if they’re getting sent to the wrong place or getting misplaced and lost? What if he forgot the address or something? What if he forgot about me?”
Without even waiting to hear a response from Spencer, Brendon hung up the phone and threw it at the wall. He was secretly hoping that it would hit the mirror and break it, just to put him out of his misery. He folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them.
He wished the pain would melt away.