It did make sense, really, to split up after such a long time of being in different mindsets but working on the same projects. Ryan, however, rarely cared about the sensible side of things if he could help it. Particularly when it had to do with Brendon. In that case, he cared more about whims of the heart, all manifesting through things like him giving flippant 'ok go's on songs Brendon would write that purely centered around drinking/partying/clubbing/etc. Pretty simple to pretend like he hadn't written it from personal experience and it was just a description of any random made-up scenario. The downside to that was actually listening to Brendon singing it, over and over again, more feeling each time as if it affected him too. That was particularly worrying. So it wasn't just that the music was taking a different direction - it was the fact that sometimes it seemed like Brendon was delving into his personal struggles without letting anyone else in on it, maybe hurting himself in the process. But Ryan tended to overthink, and this was probably-definitely one of those cases.

His contribution, then, when he wasn't writing lyrics, was accomodating Brendon's words with his own attempt at composing, writing the tabs out and asking for the okay when they were done and usually getting it on at least a handful of verses. Choruses he rarely got the go ahead on. Still he used the permission he got to try and musically depict the real-life experience; if Brendon was going to write what happened, Ryan would play a sound that translated how it hurt. Of course there were overlays of something happier that made it all easier to listen to, more like something you'd play with a group of friends than something you'd listen to alone in your room, but still. Close attention got the message across, sometimes. This way Ryan wasn't ever too left out of the creative process, just very much separate, and taking forever to figure out just the right tune helped him to forget the solitary work.

So when Brendon sprung this on him he didn't really have a response prepared, even though it completely made sense. He'd just been accepting the nonsensical organization of their band for so long that now it was normal to him. [i]It’s not always about where you start, Ryan.[/i] He hadn't even finished making his point and already Ryan was trying desperately not to straight-out say "shut up" to him. He felt thirteen again like when they were trying to pick a band name, for fuck's sake. [i]It’s the fact that you don’t [/i]do anything [i]in the band anymore. Nothing would even change.[/i] Little too far to turn back and pretend he wasn't angry already, so Ryan just let himself get more pissed at that, fingernails pressing crescents into his palms. [b]"Bullshit. More like you're not letting any of us do anything. Consider the possibility that your 'creative direction' isn't - isn't the best one to take."[/b] He had a second to hate himself for stumbling over his words, hesitating on them, before they were rolling past that. Stupidly, he apologised, quickly wanted to take it back.

[i]What’s the difference? I’m the lead singer, I make the band.[/i] Ryan's brow lowered for the first time, genuinely taken aback by Brendon's words. He knew Brendon could get like [i]that[/i], but not... this bad. Like, genuinely arrogant, not just self-confident. He watched him, still angry but now a little curious, wondering exactly what the change stemmed from. Maybe he was just disappointed that something he'd clearly been stewing over hadn't gone over as smoothly as he wanted, whatever. Ryan reminded himself that he was totally supposed to be mad at Brendon, not worried about him, shook his head to clear it. [i]Have for a while, actually. The last album- I wrote literally everything. You guys still played. What difference does it make?[/i] Ryan didn't speak for a second, wondering what 'a while' meant. He imagined Brendon on stage, thinking about it between songs, noticing everything he was unhappy with about the band and adding it onto whatever mental list of reasons he had to break them up. He imagined Brendon writing, already knowing when he brought it to the rest of them they'd be opposed or conflicted somehow. It probably wasn't that active, but Ryan felt a little silly for not beating him to bringing it up. 

He supposed he couldn't argue about the lead singer thing. Even when Ryan was the main writer, people were asking Brendon about the lyrics just because he was singing them, asking what they meant to him and why he wrote them. And as much as he wanted to say something genuinely hurtful, like 'the difference is that you can't make it on your own' or whatever, he didn't want to actually make Brendon feel bad. He sucked in a heavy breath, considering, before standing up abruptly and holding his arms out dramatically. [b]"Sure. You think you're better off flying solo, go ahead. You'll run out of material eventually; can't write about your own personal tragedy like it was a party forever. I'm out."[/b] Ryan pushed the door with his back and then circled around, meandering into the living room and shaking his head disbelievingly. It was a long time coming, really, but given such a long time, he thought Brendon would find a smarter way to go about doing this. And he'd kind of broken his resolve to try not to be hurtful.