Subway Doesn't Serve Forgiveness
Waking up to ice cold water being dumped on his head shouldn’t have been a surprise or unwarranted to Brendon, though to be fair, if Ryan had pissed on Brendon’s face to wake him up that wouldn’t have been unwarranted either. Brendon had not thought this one through.
After being woken up yet again by landing flat on his face against the carpeted floor of their shared room, the logical decision should have been to admit defeat and sleep in the other bed. But Brendon was not the average logical person, and so when he pried himself off the floor his thoughts were not on the soft, comfortable bed awaiting him but rather on how he could make Ross pay for losing sleep. But unlike the night before Brendon hadn’t gotten up and seen Ryan smirking down at him. Instead Ryan’s hands were tucked against his chest, with earbuds in and his hair splayed out across the pillow. He had been fast asleep, so Brendon had done the most logical thing.
“YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT,” Ryan screamed and ripped the covers off Brendon, exposing him to the cold. Brendon clawed at them desperately, and groaned loudly. “YOU FUCKING CUT MY HAIR.”
“Give those back,” Brendon complained. “It’s really cold since you decided to dump water on me.”
“Of all the slimy, deceitful...” Ryan trailed off. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
Brendon had been curling his legs up against his body for warmth, but he realized there was no sleep left for him after this and rolled onto his back so he could face Ryan.
“I’m going to kill you,” Ryan seethed. “I’m literally going to destroy you. You’ll wish you were never born.”
Brendon snorted, “As if. Now I’d like to return to sleeping which you’ve interrupted again.”
“T’en crisser,” Ryan spat. “Esti de tabarnak, j’te détèste! J’veux t’en crisser une. Va au Yable. Ugh, j’te détèste!”
Well shit, Ross was not happy.
“Are you finished?” Brendon asked, trying to not sound as guilty as he felt. God, this had been a bad idea.
“No, I’m not fucking finished!” Ryan yelled. “You cut my hair! How the hell am I supposed to go outside like this?”
Brendon sat up slowly and waited for Ryan to yell at him, but he didn’t. He just stared an Brendon, as if trying to will him out of existence.
“Hair grows back,” Brendon offered finally.
“Go fuck yourself,” Ryan told him, then spun around and walked into the bathroom. He slammed the door so loudly, Brendon felt like the whole hotel shook. It was a wonder they didn’t have any neighbors banging on their walls and doors with all the yelling Ryan had done.
It wasn’t long before Brendon gave into his guilt and got out of bed. He knocked on the bathroom door.
Ryan’s reply was quick and icy, “Leave me the fuck alone.”
Brendon sighed, “Ryan listen...”
“Don’t say my name!” Ryan yelled through the door. “And go the fuck away!”
Shit, was he crying? No way. Brendon felt sick just from thinking about that.
“Okay, but I can fix your hair. You know, if you want,” Brendon said awkwardly. “Like it won’t be the same obviously but it will be better than it is now.”
Ryan cracked the door open, “Why should I let you near my head ever again, you bastard?”
“I know how to actually cut hair, asshole,” Brendon said. “And I wouldn’t need to cut it any more to make it look terrible.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes, “What’s in it for you?”
“Your happiness, what else?” Brendon mocked. “It doesn’t matter what I get out of it. Do you want me to fix your hair or not?”
Ryan’s stare was venomous but he cautiously opened the door and let Brendon in.
Brendon rummaged through his toiletry bag for his cutting and thinning scissors, his combs and his clips, while Ryan watched him intently.
“So uh,” Brendon said. “I need to you take your clothes off and sit in the bathtub.”
Ryan’s eyes bulged, “What the fuck?”
Despite the tense situation, Brendon couldn’t help but laugh at Ryan’s face.
“Oh my god, I’m not gonna fuck you, Ross,” Brendon chortled. “If you want hair covered pajamas though, be my guest.”
He finally found his third comb and turned back to Ross, “It itches like hell though, and I didn’t bring a cape so it’s up to you.”
Brendon couldn’t help but smirk as Ryan went back into their room to find a pair of underwear to put on. He also took the opportunity to check out Ross’s athletics toned body when he returned, but that of course had little to do with why Brendon wanted Ryan practically naked in the bathroom with him. He was worried about Ryan’s comfort, that was all.
Ryan groveled at him as he sat down in the tub, “So why the fuck do you have all this haircutting stuff? Were you planning this?”
And then it was Brendon’s turn to feel embarrassed.
“It’s actually for cosmo class,” he said self consciously. “I just leave it all in one bag.”
Ryan started laughing, and Brendon frowned.
“Oh my god,” Ryan wheezed through choppy breaths. “And you have the audacity to call me a fag?”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that to someone cutting my hair,” Brendon said softly and Ryan quieted down immediately.
“So like, do you have a preference or do you just want me to not make your hair look horrible?” Brendon asked.
“Let’s go with the second and see where it takes us,” was all Ryan said, so Brendon shrugged clipped Ryan’s hair up at the back so that he could trim it.
It took Brendon about half an hour to fix Ryan’s hair but it was the least he could do after his rash decision to cut it the night before. Plus Ryan’s flow was disgusting, and it was no wonder 4 AM Brendon wanted it gone.
He brushed hair off of Ryan’s shoulders and gave Ryan’s hair a final ruffle to let any loose hairs fall out. Ryan’s hair was smooth and soft, and it curled around Brendon’s fingers as he shook his hand through it. There was a flash of a thought about watching TV together and running his hands through Ryan’s curls and then it was gone, leaving Brendon wondering if maybe the lack of sleep was getting to him.
As he shook out the hair at the base of Ryan’s neck, Ryan hummed happily, and Brendon withdrew his quickly as if he’d been burned.
He stepped out of the bathtub awkwardly and stepped around to get a look at Ryan from the front. He grabbed Ryan’s chin roughly and thrust it from side to side, like a rich aunt seeing seeing her nephew after four months when he’s still going though puberty.
“Hey watch it!” Ryan smacked Brendon’s hand away.
“I think you’re presentable,” Brendon said, and let Ryan stand up again from where he was kneeling in the bathtub.
Ryan stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, tilting his head to let his hair fall at different angles. Brendon hadn’t cut it too short, still leaving enough hair for Ryan to get another haircut when they got back from Montreal, but he had gotten rid of the flow at the back of Ryan’s head so that his hair was closer to the same length around his head.
“Well it certainly looks better than it did before,” Brendon said.
“It doesn’t look bad,” Ryan conceded.
“So can we let this one slide?” Brendon asked. “All is forgiven?”
Ryan glared at him, “Whatever, Urie.”
Ryan stalked out of the bathroom but Brendon stayed in and closed the door so he could take a piss.
“ Whatever, Urie ,” he mocked to empty air. “Would it kill the guy to say thank you?”
He finished up and walked back into the sleeping area of the room, briefly noting the time. The hotel breakfast would close soon, and in any case they had to be in the front lobby by 9:30 AM to get to their first game.
Brendon grabbed his clothes from his suitcase and changed in the bathroom like he had been doing all weekend. It wasn’t that he was self-conscious, Ross had seen him naked before. It was just that there seemed to be something more private and intimate about changing when they were alone in a hotel room that made Brendon uncomfortable. Ryan didn’t have those same reservations though, and Brendon certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.
Unfortunately, Brendon had missed the show, and Ryan was already dressed (wearing his own clothing this time) when Brendon came out of the bathroom.
“Did you wait for me?” Brendon asked, confused as to why Ryan had bothered staying up there.
Ryan took a minute to register what Brendon had said, and then when he did, he looked surprised.
“I wasn’t waiting!” Ryan said defensively. “I was just, like, checking my phone and shit.”
“Uh huh, right.”
“Christ you’re annoying,” Ryan said, shoving his phone into his pocket and standing up. “Let’s just go.”
Brendon trailed after him, and felt himself grin as Ryan played with the back of his hair.
‘You know if I didn’t know better, I‘d say you liked the haircut,” Brendon said conversationally.
“I said it was fine,” Ryan snapped.
It might not have been the exuberant praise Brendon dreamed about getting, but it was acknowledgement. It was better than nothing. Brendon could tell Ryan liked his haircut. It suited him way better than that ugly flow and framed his face nicely. It made him look really hot, if Brendon did say so himself.
Instead of looking for Brent as they entered the little room reserved for breakfast, Brendon chose to follow Ryan to his table. Ryan glared at him, but there was no way Brendon was going to miss the chance to brag about Ryan’s haircut. After all, Ryan wasn’t going to, and it would be such a waste otherwise.
Jon and Spencer were sitting at a table for four, as if they had been expecting them.
As Ryan sat down Spencer commented “So I hear more yelling this morning -Ryan what the fuck did you do to your hair?”
Ryan’s hand flashed to his head, and he seemed almost hurt, “You don’t like it?”
Spencer was quick to correct himself, “No way, it looks great! A definite improvement. I’m just confused. I leave you for twelve hours, under a curfew no less, and you still managed to get a haircut?”
Ryan shrugged helplessly and so Brendon chose to butt in.
“I cut it for him.”
“And that’s what the yelling was about?” Spencer asked.
‘No, the haircutting was Ryan’s idea,” Brendon said quickly. “He complained about how long his hair was getting so I offered to cut it for him.”
Spencer snorted in disbelief, “Right, and he was yelling out of joy?”
“Yes!” Brendon said happily. “Wait, no.”
“What Brendon means,” Ryan interjected, somehow making Brendon’s name seem like an insult. “Is that he saw a spider on the wall and started freaking out.”
“Sure, that’s definitely what happened.”
“Leave them alone,” Jon mumbled,who still looked half asleep. “They’re getting along, you don’t need to question it.”
He waved a hand at Ryan, “Nice haircut though, looks good man.”
“Right I’m getting breakfast now,” Ryan said.
He stood up and Brendon stood up with him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Ryan said icily.
“Getting breakfast, asshole,” Brendon said. “Come on, let’s go.”
As they walked away from the table, Brendon could feel Spencer’s eyes on him, and tried not to think too much.
Brendon headed straight for the waffle maker lineup, which consisted of Andy and Nick 2.0, both from the varsity hockey team. They nodded a hello to Brendon but continued their conversation without inviting him to join them. Meanwhile, Ryan wandered around looking at the rubbery eggs and tough bacon. His face twisted up in disgust as he poked an egg patty with the tongs and then left it there. Ryan ended up picking a bagel and tossing it into the toaster next to Brendon.
“Woah RyRo, your hair looks sick, dude!” Andy said. “What happened to it?”
“Thanks, uh...” Ryan trailed off.
“I cut it for him,” Brendon cut in. “I can do the same for you guys, and I accept cash and sexual favours as payment.”
“That’s totally sick,” Andy said. “Didn’t know you could cut hair.”
“I’m basically a professional,” Brendon told him.
Ryan snorted, but didn’t say anything.
Nick 2.0 flipped the waffle iron and opened it, dropping the waffle onto his Styrofoam plate with a cheap white plastic fork. They were really getting the fine dining experience here.
He complimented Ryan’s hair as he walked back to his table, and Ryan nodded in acknowledgment.
Andy kept talking to Brendon as he made his waffle, which Brendon didn’t object to. Even if the varsity team was mostly players on the Huskies, they seemed like cool guys, with the exception of Mr. Giant-Stick-Up-His-Ass.
“Hey, you’re one of the Hurricanes dudes right?” Andy asked.
“Oh uh, yeah. I’ve played your team a couple of times. We lost,” Brendon said.
“Solid,” Andy said. “You’re the guy Ross fought with in the exhibition game right?”
“Yes that would be me,” Brendon sighed angrily at the memory. That fight had started this whole mess to begin with.
“Yo RyRo, did you know Urie was the guy who got you kicked out of the exhibition game?” Andy asked Ryan as he lounged against the counter waiting for his bagel to pop. “Small world, huh?
“Yeah I know, Kalster,” Ryan replied.
“Dude, no wonder you go into a fight on the varsity bench,” Andy said. “You guys are like arch enemies basically.”
Brendon’s stomach flopped, presumably from being hungry, but as he looked up and saw the way Ryan was staring deadpan at Andy, Brendon reconsidered that. He didn’t want to be anyone’s arch enemy, especially not Ross’s.
“We’re not enemies,” Brendon heard himself saying. “We just have a rivalry. You know, to challenge each other and shit.”
“That’s pretty sweet,” Andy said. “Wish I had a rival.”
Ryan wrinkled his nose but his bagel popped out before he could say anything. He grabbed it and turned to go drop his bagel off at the table. Brendon watched sadly as he left, not even bothering to wait for him.
“Really digging the haircut, RyRo,” Andy called after him. Ryan gave him a little wave.
Soon Andy’s waffle was finished and Brendon was left alone to pour batter into the waffle iron. He saw Ryan walking back towards him and felt giddy. But then Ryan walked right past him to the coffee pot.
Tom Oakes was already at the pot, stirring sugar into his coffee and Brendon watched Ryan walk stiffly towards him. They were close enough that Brendon could hear them speaking in low tones.
“The hair looks nice,” Tom said, although there seemed to be anger behind his words.
“Not now, Tom,” Ryan hissed. He looked around him quickly to see if anyone was bothering to listen to them.
“God, you’re unbelievable,” Tom snarled. “I was just complimenting you, but guess that’s too much for you now too.”
Ryan didn’t even bother to respond, he just stared miserably as Tom walked away.
So it looked like Ryan was back on the market. Not that Brendon cared.
The waffle iron beeped and Brendon plopped his waffle on his plate, grabbed a plastic container of table syrup (as if the hotel would actually have maple syrup) and went to go find Brent. After hearing that conversation he wasn’t keen to mess around with Ryan.
As he was walking past their table however, Spencer called him over.
“Weren’t you gonna sit with us?” he asked.
Brendon looked at Ryan, who was hunched over his coffee and looking tired and moody. He had a pretty good reason not to.
But Brendon hadn’t felt like someone actually wanted to hang out with him in a while and for Spencer to ask - Spencer of all people- was more than he could have hoped for. So Brendon turned off of his Brent-ward trajectory (he’d never much like the guy anyway) and settled for the fourth seat at the table. Ryan didn’t even acknowledge him, just poked at his bagel.
As soon as Brendon started digging into his waffle however, Spencer’s true motives became clear.
“So, what have you two been fighting about all the time?” Spencer asked him bluntly.
Brendon swallowed his bite of waffled, “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play stupid with me, we all heard you the other night, yesterday afternoon, even this morning!” Spencer snapped.
“What the fuck, Spencer?” Ryan said sharply. “That’s none of your fucking business.”
“I’m your best friend, why won’t you tell me anything anymore?” Spencer seethed.
“Doesn’t feel so nice to be on the outside does it?” Ryan sneered.
“Can we talk?” Spencer asked flatly. “You know, outside?”
“Yeah, sure let’s talk,” Ryan said standing up and grabbing his coffee. “Let’s fucking talk.”
The two walked out leaving Jon and Brendon sitting awkwardly at the table together.
“Sorry you had to be in the middle of that,” Jon said, scratching his head. “I was hoping they’d sort this out civilly.”
“What even was that?” Brendon asked.
“I’ll let you in on a secret, Brendon,” Jon said. “The key to a good relationship is trust, understanding and good communication. What we just witnessed is a good example of Ryan’s poor communication and lack of trust.”
“And I was involved, how?”
“Ah,” Jon looked embarrassed for a second. “I think maybe Spencer’s not as good at communication as he thinks he is.”
“Right,” Brendon said. “I see.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much though,” Jon said. “They’ve been friends for awhile. I’m sure it’ll sort itself out.”
Brendon finished his waffle with minimal conversation with Jon, as the early morning was never the best time for conversation with either of them. Together it was practically nonexistent. Ryan and Spencer still hadn’t returned from their little heart-to-heart conversation, so Brendon headed back to his room by himself.
As he passed through the lobby on the way to elevator, he saw Ryan and Spencer standing just outside the door. Their faces were both scrunched up in anger and they were both yelling. If Brendon had walked a little closer he probably could have listened to their conversation.
He edged closer to the door until he could hear their muffled yelling. Ryan was shouting something incoherent but what Spencer said next was clear.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. If you don’t want to be my friend anymore than just fucking say it, don’t pull this passive-aggressive shit with me!” he snarled. “But for god’s sake, tell me what I did.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t want to be friends with me,” Ryan shot back. “T’as des nouveaux amis qu’tu aime plus qu’moé! Tu m’as abandonné!”
“Speak English!” Spencer screamed in frustration.
Brendon turned around immediately and left the lobby. He ran up the stairs, opened the door of his room with the key card and entered.
He didn’t even bother to turn on the TV, he just flopped down on the bed that wasn’t covered in Ryan’s hair. He hadn’t meant to get himself caught up in Ross’s drama, but it seemed that the guy was swimming in it. It was no wonder Brendon was had gotten pulled under.
He lay there for a minute, just staring at the ceiling and wondering what had compelled him to shove his nose where it didn’t belong. He shouldn’t have.
His eyes started to droop and his yawned. He still had twenty minutes before he needed to bring his equipment down to catch the bus. Curse Ross for waking him up so early.
God, he was so tired. He didn’t know why he was even bothering with the bed thing. He was just being petty. He just wanted to annoy Ross. Or be close to him. It didn’t matter much at this point, he could hardly separate the two in his own head.
He got up and changed into his shirt and tie, before throwing himself down on the bed again. It was only a varsity hockey game, nobody would notice if his shirt was wrinkled. There was no point in texting anyone, none of the Hurricanes would be up before noon unless they were forced. So he let himself fall asleep and prayed that Ryan would wake him up before they had to leave.
He didn’t have to worry though because pretty soon Ryan was slamming the hotel door as he barged in.
Brendon rolled over so he was facing Ryan, immediately noticing how angry he looked.
“Well, for once it’s not me getting in a fight with you,” he joked, too groggy to really think before he said anything.
Ryan shot him a funny look and walked over to his suitcase.
Brendon sat up and as he watched Ryan pull out his nice clothes, he had to heavily resist the urge to ask Ryan what had happened and if he was okay. It wasn’t any of his business and Ryan wouldn’t tell him anyway.
“Why are you staring at me?” Ryan said abruptly.
Brendon blinked, “Oh, I was? Sorry didn’t know looking at you was illegal now.”
“You always do that,” Ryan said. “You just stare at me. You’re such a fucking creep.”
Brendon shrugged. Having a fight over this was definitely not worth it. But he’d have to stop staring at Ross all the time. Maybe the idiot would actually figure Brendon out if he didn’t break the habit.
But fuck, it would be hard not to look at him, especially with his new haircut.
Maybe it was because of his accusation, but Ryan actually chose to change in the bathroom like Brendon had been doing all weekend.
Brendon didn’t wait up for him, just packed up his equipment. As Brendon was leaving the room, Ryan walked out of the bathroom, changed for the game. Ryan seemed surprised to see him leaving, or Brendon hoped he had. Maybe Ryan didn’t mind having him around too.
He left the room anyway and went down using the elevator. He still had ten minutes before they needed to leave but that was better than to repeat what had happened yesterday when he and Ryan had been late.
Mr. Beckett and Mr. Saporta were already waiting in the lobby and Brendon briefly considered pleading them to switch rooming assignments. Not because he minded, but Ryan would certainly be happier if Brendon didn’t have to share with him anymore.
Ugh, this lack of sleep was really getting to him. Why should he care about what would make Ryan happy?
Once everyone was down they started to board the bus and Brendon tried to resist the urge to look for Ryan. He was supposed to stop staring at him after all.
However when Mr. Beckett was doing attendance, Ryan wasn’t there.
“Ryan?” Mr. Beckett called and frowned at the boys in front of him. “Has anyone seen Ryan?”
Brendon stood up and walked to the front of the bus, “He was right behind me as I was leaving,” he told Mr. Beckett.
Mr. Beckett and Mr. Saporta exchanged a glance.
“I can go up and check our room if you’d like,” Brendon offered. “I can run.”
Mr. Beckett nodded, “Sure, but be quick, we have some goalies who need to put their equipment on, you know.”
As he was leaving the bus he heard Mr. Saporta say, “Hey, you’re actually picking up some stuff about hockey.”
He didn’t hear the response, but it made him feel warm and light inside. It made him feel that if he ever ended up with a guy, it would be okay, and he could have a future with him.
He took the stairs two at a time, and soon after he was opening the door to his and Ryan’s room.
“Ross?” he called as he entered. “The bus is going to leave without you!”
He didn’t see Ryan immediately but then Ryan poked his head up from behind the bed. Ryan was seated, curled up behind the bed, his arms hugging his long, gangly legs to his chest.
“Shit,” Brendon said quietly. It definitely looked like Ryan had been crying.
But no, he reevaluated as he got closer. Ryan wasn’t crying, just scribbling into a black notebook that he closed quickly as Brendon approached.
“Dude, come on, we’re going to be late,” Brendon told him.
Ryan nodded slowly and then stood up. He tossed the notebook into his suitcase and grabbed his hockey bag.
“I’m coming,” he said slowly.
They rode the elevator down in silence, although Brendon kept glancing at Ryan anxiously. The other boy had retreated into himself, his expression blank and unfeeling, but his shoulders drooped and his head hung down. His fingers drummed the side of his legs as his eye stared almost unseeing at the elevator door in front of him.
Standing next to him was like being alone.
When they got on the bus, after putting Ryan’s bag into the compartment underneath, Mr. Beckett confronted them.
“From now on you two better stay together,” he said harshly. “I mean that. If something like this happens again...”
He trailed off, as if to hint at some great evil, but Brendon knew there was nothing Beckett could actually do about this. Especially since Mr. Saporta didn’t seem to give a shit.
Brendon wasn’t too surprised when Ryan walked right past Spencer’s seat and continued to the back of the bus. People moved around to open a spot for him and he sat next to Alex Greenwald. It was pretty amazing Ryan still hadn’t run out of friends yet. He seemed to be going through them like firewood.
Brent had saved him a seat even though Brendon had ditched him at breakfast.
“You hanging out with Ross and his little bitches now?” Brent asked him.
“Nah, just got roped into a shitshow. Ross is such a drama queen,” Brendon said, although he couldn’t help but glance back at Ryan, who was staring solemnly out the bus window.
Brent laughed, “God, you can say that again.”
Brendon wished he hadn’t said it in the first place, and just tried to focus on his pre-game ritual.
They won the game, although it was close. It might not have been if Ross had been able to acknowledge the fact that there were four other guys on his line instead of just three. It didn’t seem to matter how obvious Brendon tried to make himself, or how many times he passed the puck to Ryan. He would rather have a turnover then pass to Brendon.
He tried to not let it bother him. He tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. But by the tenth time Ryan lost possession, Brendon was seriously considering picking another fight with him on the bench.
He wasn’t a bad player, he couldn’t be, he’d made it this far. But even if Ryan hated him, could he really see no value in Brendon’s playing? Did he really consider Brendon to be too risky to pass to? He wondered if his dad was right about him.
They just managed to win the game because of Brendon. At least he could walk out of the game with the undeniable claim that he had actually contributed positively to the game despite whatever Ryan thought. Brendon had scored the winning goal. Not Ryan. Ryan hadn’t even assisted him.
With a final score of 5-4 for the Bulls, their team skated off the ice partially elated from victory but weighed down by the knowledge that they hadn’t played very well.
“What the hell was that?” Mr. Saporta yelled as he walked into the dressing room.
The team stared at him quietly from their benches around the room.
“It was bullshit,” Mr. Saporta exclaimed. “I’ve seen Timbits with more teamwork than you. Pass the goddamn puck! You’ve got four other players out there to support you. In the next game you better use them or we’re going to lose.”
Maybe Brendon imagined it, but Mr. Saporta seemed to be staring meaningfully at Ryan. Now if only Ross would take Mr. Saporta’s advice. Fighting with practically everyone on your line before a game certainly didn’t improve the gameplay.
Brendon striped his equipment off and headed for the showers. He wasn’t riding the bus with all of his post-game sweat still clinging to his skin.
The team headed back to the hotel to drop off their equipment after the game, before they were going back into Montreal for lunch again. He and Ryan took turns changing in the bathroom, and then they walked down to the lobby together like their teachers had instructed them. Brendon didn’t even try to engage with Ryan, too tired and annoyed with him to bother.
They walked back to the Quartier Latin like they had the previous day. Brendon trailed behind the group as he took in the city. Even if he had been there the day before, the city was unfamiliar still and Brendon was amazed by all the French speakers and signs around. As people walked by he’d pick up snippets of conversation. It was strange hearing Ryan’s accent spoken everywhere. Just two days ago he’d thought it was Ryan mispronouncing words but no, it was just his dialect. Brendon had never met someone who was Quebecois before, but it seemed unlikely that Ryan would be up for answering any questions, especially for him.
Mr. Saporta and Mr. Beckett left them at the same spot as the had the day before, with the warning to be back in an hour so that they could go to the Biodome before their next game.
Brendon intended to find Spencer and Jon to go get lunch, since Ryan didn’t seem to be on speaking terms with either of them. Jon and Spencer seemed to like him, and enjoyed having him around, although neither would say it out loud for Ryan’s sake.
However as he was about to go find them, Ryan accosted him.
“Look man, we have to stick together,” he grumbled. “Beckett said so.”
“Beckett’s not here,” Brendon pointed out, gesturing around.
“So?” Ryan said. “You always do what people tell you to do anyway.”
“Fine. Sure. Okay, let’s hang out Ross,” Brendon said angrily, but he secretly hoped that maybe Ryan was warming up to him. “Are Spencer and Jon coming with us?”
Ryan looked away, “No.”
“So, is this like a date-” Brendon shut up immediately at the death glare Ryan was sending him.
“Right, so where are we going?” Brendon said instead when Ryan still hadn’t said to him.
“That Subway,” Ryan said stiffly. “We’ll get our food, sit at a table and not talk to each other for the rest of the hour.”
“Wow, you really know how to treat a guy,” Brendon joked then cringed when he received the death glare once again.
They walked the Subway at the end of the street. There were a few people in line already.
“So what do you want, I can order for you,” Ryan said.
“I can order myself!” Brendon scowled.
Ryan considered him, “That’s true, everyone in Montreal speaks English.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Brendon contended.
“I bet she’s gonna switch to English as soon as you say ‘Bonjour’,” Ryan said, gesturing to the person behind the counter.
“Maybe I won’t say bonjour then,” Brendon countered. Ryan rolled his eyes.
The server addressed him and Ryan responded quickly in French.
“Ouais, j’voudrai ‘a dinde sul’ pain fines herbes italiennes pis fromage,” he said. Brendon blinked, and shook his head. He was so fucked.
“Six pouces ou douze?” the server asked.
Ryan stared at her for a second, “T’es serieuse? Douze pouces.”
And then he refocused his disapproval back to Brendon, smirking.
Well, now Brendon had to show him up.
“Bonjour, comment j’peux-tu t’aider?” she asked, and fuck Brendon could barely understand what that meant.
“Bonjour,” he said back, and looked at the menu in front of him, unsure of what to say next.
She just smiled at him and repeated herself in English, “Hello, how can I help you?”
Ryan snorted beside him, but Brendon had never felt so relieved in his life. He ordered his whole meal in English with no issues.
As Brendon went to pay for his usual sandwich/drink/cookie combo he made a horrifying discovery.
“Hey Ross? Do you Quebecers not have raspberry cheesecake cookies?”
Ryan wrinkled his nose and scanned the cookie display, “You can read, can’t you? It’s not there.”
“God, and here I was starting to have some respect for French Canadians. Then you go out and betray me like this,” Brendon said.
Ryan didn’t even reply, he just rolled his eyes. When was Brendon going to learn to stop making inopportune jokes.
They sat down at a table, and before Brendon had even unwrapped his sandwich Ryan had his phone out to indicate that he had no interest in a conversation with Brendon. Unluckily for Ryan, it wasn’t just anyone Ryan was trying to ignore, it was Brendon Boyd Urie and Brendon wasn’t so easily swayed.
“So is Quebec really different from Montreal?” Brendon asked. “Cus you won’t stop talking about it.”
“God, your Anglo pronunciation. They’re not the same place,” Ryan said testily, opening the bag of chips he’d bought.
“Okay, but Edmonton and Toronto are the same, other than the fact that traffic is worse in Toronto,” Brendon said. “And they’re practically on opposite sides of the country. What makes these two cities so different? They’re both in Quebec right?”
“I’m not even dignifying that with an answer,” Ryan said.
“Do you want me to talk about something else?” Brendon asked. “I have so many other questions I want to ask you.”
“I want you to shut up and never speak to me again,” Ryan told him.
“Careful, if you’re mean on the first date I won’t go on a second one,” Brendon warned.
“Fucking hell, will you lay off already? We’re not on a date, I’m not gay and I don’t appreciate you acting like we’re friends who can joke around together,” Ryan exclaimed. “We’re not friends, and I don’t like you.”
Brendon narrowed his eyes, “I’m not even being mean to you, what is your fucking problem? You dragged me out to lunch with you, not the other way around. I’m here because I’m a nice fucking person. I don’t owe you shit. The least you could do is let me have some fun. Surprisingly, I have other people I’d rather be with right now.”
“You at least owe me respect! Don’t make homophobic jokes about me!” Ryan maintained.
Brendon stared at him in disbelief. Ryan thought he was homophobic? Sure, he’d slipped up that one time, but like he hadn’t had that slur thrown at him a million times. Like it didn’t actually apply to him. And here he thought he was the most obvious person ever.
Then he got over his disbelief and started laughing.
“Holy shit, you think I’m homophobic? Are you serious?” he wheezed.
Ryan flushed, “Fuck off, I may not be gay but I know homophobia when I see it.”
That set Brendon off laughing again. Ryan’s face kept getting redder and redder.
“You’re ‘straight’ and you’re telling me what’s homophobic? I can’t believe this is happening,” Brendon shook his head, laughter still on his lips.
“Fuck off,” Ryan repeated.
“Okay, I’m done,” Brendon said, taking a deep breath.
But then he looked at Ryan’s face again, a mixture of anger and confusion, “Oh my god, nope.”
And then he started laughing yet again.
“You’re so fucking immature,” Ryan spat.
“Sorry, this is too good,” Brendon said between laughter.
When he finally stopped laughing he refocused on Ryan, who seemed ready to dump his medium Pepsi on Brendon’s head.
“Okay, but I’m immature?” Brendon asked. “Why am I eating lunch with you, Ross? Hmm?”
“What part of ‘Never speak to me again’ is unclear to you?” Ryan replied, picking at his sandwich.
“So is it about Spencer?” Brendon inquired politely.
“Excuse me?”
Brendon gestured around the restaurant, “You know, the reason I’m here? Is it because you got in a fight with Spencer?”
Ryan said nothing, but his eyes narrowed with hostility.
Brendon decided to poke the bear with a stick, “So it’s about Tom, then?”
“That’s none of your fucking business,” Ryan snarled, his fist wrapping tightly around his sub sandwich.
“Hmm, probably both. Any other friends you started drama with that I should be worried about?” Brendon asked, and then regretted it immediately when Ryan picked up his food and moved to another table.
He cursed himself for falling into their routine again when he’d been trying so hard to not fuck things up between him and Ross. He couldn’t be kicked off the varsity team, his dad would kill him. But as soon as Ryan was even slightly hostile, it was like Brendon switched to automatic. He didn’t need to think much to piss Ryan off. He knew exactly which buttons to push so that Ryan felt it the most. He hated that. He hated how could so effortlessly send Ryan over the edge. But he’d tried being nice and Ryan just didn’t want it. He wasn’t even open to the idea of being friends with Brendon. Nothing Brendon did made any difference.
He bit into his sandwich and glanced over at Ryan, who had found a table on the other side of the restaurant. Maybe he should give up, and accept that Ryan just didn’t think of him the same way. God, Brendon was such an idiot.
He ate his sandwich in an uncomfortable silence, although he did occasionally look over at Ryan and hope that the other boy would look back at him. He never did. Brendon couldn’t just get up and apologize either. He just hoped that his sad puppy dog eyes would be enough to convince Ryan that he was sorry and to come back to his table.
It wasn’t.
He pulled out his phone as he ate his double chocolate chip cookie (it really was fucked up that the Quebecois didn’t have raspberry cheesecake) and cringed at the number of texts he’d received since he’d last checked his phone. Or rather, the number of texts in the group chat.
He didn’t even bother scrolling up to the last time he’d checked the chat, just tried to get an understanding of what was currently happening.
Brent: this tourney really does suck ass though, this team is so shit
Ian: lol
Shane: arent smith and ross the top drafts tho
Brent: ross is such a little faggot and he hates the whole team
Dallon: Brendon’s a good player
Kenny: yeah don’t diss my dude urie like that
Ian: uries not that good
Brent: he plays on rosss line and ross hates him so he never passes
Kenny: dude hes better than you
Brent: we almost lost the last game because of them
Shane: they got kicked for fighting on the bench right
Brent: yah ross fucking slugged him out of nowhere
Dan: tf are yall talking about it’s like 11am this is too early
Shane: brent hates the bulls
Kenny: go back to bed daniel
Brent: am i not allowed to rant for like 2 secs before someone else comes up
Dallon: i’m listening brent
Shane: yeah i dont give a fuck
Kenny: DAMN THAT’S COLD
Kenny: FUCKING REKT BRO
Ian: omfg kenny
Brent: shut the fuck up
Dan: i cant believe you woke me up for this shit
Dallon: how’s brendon doing in the tourney?
Brent: he scored a hat trick the other day
Kenny: THATA BOY
Kenny: they grow up so fast
Brendon: did brent tell you guys he got suspended again
Kenny: YOOOOOOO BRENDO
Dallon: hey brendon!
Shane: hey man
Dan: what he do
Brendon: checked a kid from behind
Ian: wow scum bag
Brent: hey fuck off he had it coming
Dan: sure brent
Brendon: meh we dont need him anyway
Ian: lmao
Brent: hey fuck you!
Kenny: ooooooo rekt again
Brent Wilson has removed Kenny Harris from the group
Shane: dude he wasn’t even that bad today
Dan: even i wouldnt have kicked him
Dallon: #BringBackKenny
Dan: #BringBackKenny
Brendon: #BringBackKenny
Ian: #BringBackKenny
Brent: fine whatever fags
Dan: nice
Dan Pawlovich has added Kenny Harris to the group
Kenny: get shreked brent
Brent: die bitch
Brendon looked up from his phone to see Ryan looming over his table.
“It’s time to go,” he said motioning vaguely to the door.
“Yeah, okay sure,” Brendon said and crumpled his packaging into a ball to carry to the garbage.
As they were leaving Brendon figured it was as good a time as any to make peace again.
“Hey Ryan?” he said.
“The ‘Don’t talk to me’ policy is still in place,” Ryan sneered.
“Okay, but like, I really don’t mean half the stuff I say,” Brendon said sheepishly. “I’m not really trying to upset you.”
“Could have fooled me,” Ryan said, his eyes narrowing.
“Look, you’re just really shitty to me, and I’m trying but you’re not,” Brendon argued. “Like we don’t have to be friends, but you could at least be nice to me every once and awhile. It won’t kill you.”
“Be nice to you? Are you fucking serious? You insinuate that I’m a fucking drama queen, and that I destroy all my friendships and then tell me to be nice to you?” Ryan stared at him in disbelief. “J’en r’viens pas.”
Brendon bit his tongue and began counting in his head. He wouldn’t tell Ryan he might as well be nice to him because he could use all the friends he could get at this point. He wouldn’t fuck everything up this time.
“Sorry okay? I didn’t mean it,” Brendon grumbled. “Would be nice if you’d apologize every once and awhile though I’m not the only one fucking up here.”
“Oh really?”
“Takes two to tango,” Brendon shrugged.
“Well, the way I see it is you’re a fucking asshole and I’m just retaliating,” Ryan said. “Anyway, if this is supposed to be an apology it fucking sucks.”
“I hope you’re nicer to Spencer when he expects an apology,” Brendon retaliated without thinking - fuck , he said he wasn’t gonna act like that anymore.
Ryan didn’t react just stared at him blankly and then he looked away quickly. Oh fuck, Brendon had really done it this time.
About half of the team was already waiting at the meeting spot and Mr. Beckett and Mr. Saporta were actually there on time. Ryan walked about from Brendon, towards Greenwald and his group of grade twelves. If he could have hung out with Michael, Jason and Alex why had he even bothered with Brendon?
Brendon kicked the sidewalk lightly, his toe scratching against the sidewalk. He probably looked like such a loser standing off to the side of the main hockey group. Where were Jon and Spencer? He tried to to seem like he was desperately waiting for them to show up, but he was already starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Hey Brendon!” Jon called and Brendon tried not to whirl around in excitement. He couldn’t stop from grinning though.
“Hey! Where did you guys eat?” he asked.
“We found a McDicks,” Spencer said. “What did you end up doing?”
“Ryan dragged me to that Subway over there,” Brendon said.
Spencer huffed, “God, he’s so petty.”
“What happened between you two this morning?” Brendon asked.
Jon groaned, “Don’t get him started, he’s been bitching about Ryan for the last hour.”
“He’s a dick, I can’t believe him,” Spencer exclaimed. “He didn’t even have the decency to speak English most of the time we were arguing.”
“He does that a lot,” Brendon agreed.
Jon snorted, “Like you even noticed until the other day.”
“Well, when I look back on it!” Brendon defended. “He used to swear at me in French all the time on the ice.”
“Used to?” Spencer repeated skeptically.
“We haven’t played each other recently,” Brendon said. “Okay, but for real, what did he do this time?”
Spencer glanced at the gathering hockey crowd, “I’ll tell you about it on the bus.”
They boarded the bus and Spencer and Brendon sat together near the front of the bus, while Jon sat in the seat in front of them. Ryan sat at the very back, as far away from them as he could get.
Their teachers took attendance and the bus pulled away to take them to the Montreal Biodome.
“So? What’s the deal?” Brendon asked.
“Okay it started off small you know, but lately he’s been ignoring me all the fucking time, and blowing me off too,” Spencer rambled. “He’s just so fucking moody and he won’t tell me what’s up. I’m trying to help him, you know? He’s my best friend. But he’s acting like he doesn’t want to be.”
“So that’s what you were trying to talk to him about this morning?” Brendon confirmed.
“Yes! But then when I tried to talk about it he just started going on about how I never had time for him anymore, and how I’d rather spend time with Jon than with him! It’s like as soon as I start making other friends and my whole life doesn’t revolve around him and his problems anymore than he wants nothing to do with me!” Spencer continued. “It’s so fucking unfair how he’s allowed to have a girlfriend and a bunch of other friends, but I’m not! He didn’t even congratulate me on getting a girlfriend or anything! Like, even you did and we weren’t even friends at the time!”
“I think he’s jealous,” Brendon said.
“Of my girlfriend? As if,” Spencer replied.
“I just mean in general, you know? Like all of his friendships seem kind of messy right now,” Brendon told him. “I don’t really know, I’m just watching from the outside.”
Spencer frowned, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, well if he hasn’t told you...”
“See that’s the kind of shit I’m talking about! He hates you, and you still know more about him than I do apparently,” Spencer grumbled.
“Well, I think Oakes is really pissed off at him right now,” Brendon said, and even mentioning Tom’s name made Brendon’s gut twist uncomfortably. “Couldn’t tell you why though.”
“What the actual fuck,” Spencer said bluntly. “Now I’m even more pissed off.”
“So like, do you guys hate me too, or is it just Ross?” Brendon asked.
“I think you’re a great guy, Brendon,” Jon replied from the seat in front of them.
“Yeah, I don’t have any issues with you either,” Spencer said. “Unlike Ryan, I don’t let my rivalries leave the ice. But as Ryan’s best friend I felt obligated to not hang out with you.”
“Though since we’re apparently not best friends anymore, I guess that means you’re fair game,” he said thoughtfully.
“So... can I walk around the Biodome with you guys?” Brendon asked hopefully.
“Well, I don’t see why not,” Jon said, and Brendon felt his chest expand with excitement. Maybe he would never win over Ross, but it seemed like he’d make some friends anyway.