Mr Thompson's Pub and Cabaret

Things had been busy at the cabaret, although it still hadn't been functioning. They weren't going to open it until all of the finishing touches were made. Everyone understood, though. It seemed like news traveled fast when it came to Mr. Thompson's death.

The mirrors behind the bar were replaced and Brendon had bought new curtains for the stage, a deep, deep velvety red. Sort of like the color of the walls in Vera's apartment, which, for that matter, he had been visiting more and more frequently. Brendon and Ryan were often meeting together to work on the new music, and it seemed like their bond was growing. There wasn't the hatred that had been there before that Brendon had somehow betrayed them all. It was like everyone suddenly believed that what happened really was an accident. They were finally coming around.

Ryan's lyrics were unlike anything Brendon had ever heard, and in between a practice one day, he had admitted something Brendon would have never expected to hear fall from his lips.

"I never really expected myself to sing these," he'd muttered, staring down at his own written words.

Brendon's eyebrows knitted together as he looked up at him, obviously confused. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't you? These are your lyrics. You can't just have them sitting here, especially when they're as great as these."

He shook his head. "No, I just, I don't think I could give them justice. But I think you can. I wasn't supposed to admit it at the time, but I was really happy with how my other song turned out with you singing. I just, it wasn't built for a girl's voice, and don't get me wrong, Vera's amazing, she really is, but I prefer it with you."

A small smile played up on Brendon's lips as he shook his head. "I'm sure you're fine," he replied.

Ryan only shrugged. "I'm not necessarily saying I'm a bad singer, I just wouldn't consider myself as good as you."

The lyrics that Brendon watched being put together in front of him really did amaze him. The words fit together perfectly, creating elaborate story lines and characters, without really doing so. It was hard to explain, but whatever it was, Brendon loved it. His eyes scanned various pages of Ryan's notebook, taking in every word, as he would occasionally point out which songs he thought would be appropriate for the cabaret.

"Sit tight I'm gonna need you to keep time, come on just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me, good, good now we're making some progress, come on just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat..."

"This one," Brendon said, pointing to the page. "I like the illustrations you can make with these words, and I think we'd be able to come up with a good dance number for it." Since Lady Ellen's departure with the cabaret, Brendon had hired Bambi to be in charge of the dance routines, since she was usually second in command of those things. Ryan nodded in agreement and added it to the set list we were beginning to write. Everything was under intense renovation, including the show, and when we opened back up, he wanted nothing less than perfect.

"Have some composure, where is your posture, oh no, no, you're pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger, all wrong, have some composure, where is your posture, oh no, no, you're pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger, all wrong, give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention, give me envy, give me malice, baby give me a break, when I say shotgun, you say wedding, shotgun, wedding, shotgun, wedding..." At first he'd almost skipped through it, and dismissed it as a song as something that was less than what this cabaret was looking for, but Ryan stopped him, which sort of took him off guard, because Ryan would speak up for his lyrics, but he wouldn't really stop him.

"This one is different from all the others," he said, eying the page with 'Time To Dance' headlining the top of it. "It's more techno, something that I think would really take everyone off guard, but in a good way. It'd keep them on their toes."

Brendon stopped and read through the lyrics again, taking it all in. At first he wasn't so keen to the idea, but then he got to thinking about it. They didn't want to be just like everyone else, and just like every cabaret that you could find on the streets. Something different would most defiantly be welcome. "Alright. Put it down," he said, nodding.

The next page's lyrics, Ryan seemed to want to skip right over, but he took the notebook away, because he wanted to read this. Something about it caught his attention, and perhaps it was the way Ryan really didn't want him to read it.

"You know it will always just be me, so testosterone boys and Harlequin girls, will you dance to this beat and hold the lover close..."

"Ryan?" Brendon asked, eyes still skimming the page.

"Yeah?" His voice sounded small.

"What's this song about?" He looked up, meeting Ryan's eyes with his.

Ryan didn't reply right away. He suddenly looked down at the ground as if to avoid eye contact all together. "I don't..." He bit down on his lip and stared at the notebook, just out of his reach. "It's about an ex-girlfriend of mine, alright? It didn't end well."

"Put it down."

He looked up immediately, as if he couldn't believe Brendon would have suggested such a thing. "What?"

"I like it. I think we could do a lot with this song. Put it down," he repeated, raising an eyebrow, half daring him to question his decision. But without any complaint, Ryan did as he was told and put down the song. Then Brendon came across the song that he'd read in the cabaret all those months ago.

"Now I'm of consenting age, to be forgetting you in a cabaret somewhere downtown where a burlesque queen may even ask my name, as she sheds her skin on stage, I'm seated and sweating to a dance song on the club's PA, the strip-joint veteran sits two away, smirking between dignified sips of his dignified peach and lime daiquiri."

"This one," Brendon said, without a minute of hesitation. "I want this song to be apart of the set. The imagery you set up for it, everything is perfect. This is what we need."

Ryan Ross had a talent. That was one thing Brendon would never deny.