Unmoral

however Ryan was wasting away and denying that could be considered as ignorance or blindness. Ryan was getting to know his inner engine, Ryan was almost a flower to admire.

Brendon liked Sarah's eyes, they were not honey but bright spring; Brendon liked Sarah's hands, they were not rough, they were not calloused nor elegantly graceful but fragile small flies.

Brendon was not oblivious, Brendon was in denial.

The bunks weren't a problem anymore, they only used the tour bus when they toured in the states. And if they were touring in the states the bus was so fucking big you could get lost in it.

Ryan could not ignore the soothing words that slipped from Brendon's mouth every night from his bunk, the one she shared with him.

And Ryan could not help but notice the fragile structure of Brendon's lover, the cruelty of her face was only known by him, Brendon only saw the ephemeral delicate beauty in Sarah, the same one he found in a bigger intensity with Ryan. The same one that drowned him four years ago, the same one he craved the same one he could not help but be absorbed in.

Brendon sometimes thought she was a replacement. And now that Ryan had come back to be a replacement in their old band and he was having problems to see were the line was drawn.

Ryan heard it all though; He heard the sad whimpers and the fluttery compliments and the soothing assurances and the relaxing words. He was never one to sin (let's understand this as a lie) but his greedy, envious side was fixating him with alcoholic distractions.

A morning he woke up to find Brendon sitting on the lounge, head in his hands, beer on the coffee table, cigarette burning on the ashtray.

it was a morning but for Ryan was just time, there were no days just a constant stream of hours with no end. he had been suffering from insomnia ever since he could remember (he could not remember a time were he wasn't drunk nor a time in which he wasn't cold).

The sight of Brendon made his heart clench and fall. His tiny heart soon would turn into nothing and his head would be freed of the blurring emotions. His head throbbed with a killer headache, he needed a flask.

he wasn't silent when he walked thought the lounge to the other small sofa they had and lit the tip from a white, white cigarette.

Brendon's head shot up. His eyes red and skin splotchy.

"Sorry" he mumbled and was quick to catch his own lit cigarette that had been resting in the ashtray.

Ryan just kept on watching, wondering if the skin under his own eyes was as translucent as it felt to him. Wondering if the sleepless night was showing on his face, praying to god (if there was a god) that please, let him go unnoticed, let him not be the martyr that everyone knows is suffering.

"don't worry" his voice was hoarse because of the alcohol. the fans hadn't noticed how similar he was to his dad yet, they were just hysterical and euphoric because Panic! was like it initially had been.

Something dull fell somewhere on the bus and footsteps followed through the bunks area into the lounge. A bony mess with black, silky locks of hair and red eyes (just like Brendon's) appeared looking like a goddess to Ryan.

He hated her with a burning wrath.

All it took was a look. Brendon turned his head and took her in, her disheveled appearance. She looked sorry and not so much, Ryan knew what her game was.

Brendon seemed hesitant though, he put aside the brown filter from his fingers on the metallic ashtray and gulped down the bitter, golden liquid. Brendon stared hard at Ryan (who was looking through the window avoiding the situation in front of him just like he preferred to do so much nowadays, avoiding Brendon because if he really looked at him he knew he would definitely cross the line) and wished for a few seconds that he could turn around and face him.

Brendon almost wanted to shake him out of it. punch him until he got a real reaction but he didn't.

Brendon stood up and followed Sarah to the bunks and held her close, her apology from yelling at him always and slapping him sometimes and lying to him almost daily stayed unspoken but hanging above them.

Brendon held close Sarah feeling the bones beneath the skin and wishing and longing for the very first time in a long while that he was the one to be there.

Because Sarah was destructive but Ryan has always been more, more intense, lighter, prettier, better.

Brendon regretted so much letting him go all those years ago, Brendon wished it was on his place to talk to him again but he knew it had been a big mistake already bringing him on tour, knowing that she would be there. knowing that he would create an unspoken competition of whom was the deadliest of them all, whom was the closest of everything and nothing at the same time.

Whom was the one that was closest to their own personal god.

Brendon secretly knew that it would always be Ryan but he needed to give her a chance. it was not like Ryan was his to claim.