Brendon rather generously described himself as a singer, when in fact, he was just a guy working at an Italian restaurant for decent pay and singing to himself when there weren’t many customers to maybe get himself a little extra in the ways of tips than usual. He did kareoke, if only for the opportunity to perform, and sometimes sang properly for Joey’s evening rush a few days a week, but other than that- nothing. It wasn’t like Brendon was shy, or that he didn’t realise the full extent of his talents- in fact, he was extremely confident, with a natural flair for performance and the dramatic, with an inborn charisma that tended to captivate anybody he spoke, or sang, to. Joey, his boss, but also his stand-in father figure and possible closest friend, always told him he should do something with that talent, but Brendon just hadn’t done it yet. He’d always told himself he was just young, he didn’t need to have anything figured out yet, but. It was his dream. To do what he loved to make a living.

It was men like Ryan Ready who made him doubt that he was making good progress in his life- they were more or less the same age, Ryan a year older or something, and he was the lead singer, guitarist and lyricist of his own band, a band that had risen frighteningly quickly to the spotlight thanks to the internet and its army of fans, that counted Brendon amongst its ranks. He had written his own theoretical songs and lyrics before, but they were nothing compared to the abstract nature and complexity of Ryan’s songs. He admired him, and was in awe of his talent- though his voice wasn’t the strongest as it went technically, and his range wasn’t as broad as Brendon’s and other singer’s, it had an edge when the lyrics were raw, and was almost honey-soft when the song so demanded. His entire aesthetic, Ryan’s sort of stoic and half-shy persona- Brendon adored that too. He was maybe a little obsessed.

As such, he had attended a show already, this was his second- and this time, he’d managed to get all the way to the front so he was against the barrier, hair something of an endearing mess, sticking to his forehead from the heat, eyes shining from the stagelights, breathless from singing along. It was the last song- Brendon expected Nails For Breakfast, because of the last setlist, but he was instead greeted with Build God, to his delight. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would sound like recorded with his voice, so when he sang, he did it with purpose. It was gritty, it was some weird genre he couldn’t quite describe and didn’t want to attempt to like many critics had, giving it ridiculous names like ‘cabaret emo pop’ or ‘baroque pop-punk’ and everything in between. He just wished he’d been part of it- it was what he yearned to do, and even more, he wanted to be on that stage so people could see what a multi instrumentalist and talented singer like Brendon could do. 

He was leaning against the barrier grinning, blinded by circling spotlights, eyes only on the frontman as the song started. Brendon naturally knew the lyrics off by heart, and sang in perfect time, but loud, and with an almost unnatural understanding of the lyrics in his tone, as if he had been there when it had been written, like it was his song. When Ryan actually caught his eye during the chorus, he faltered slightly, kind of starstruck when the mic was held out for him, but he pulled himself together hastily so to not miss the opportunity. He even reached out to take hold of it. [b][i]...Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy-“[/i][/b] His voice sounded like someone else’s. [b][i]”Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy...”[/i][/b] Grinning, he finally made direct eye contact with Ryan, and almost forgot to breathe. Had he really just done that? Brendon cursed himself for being so over the top.

Directly after, though, he continued singing, because Ryan hadn’t taken it back. He sang in a voice that was more smooth, seductive, more appropriate for the song, almost explicitly sultry. [b]“...Tonight tenants range from a lawyer and a virgin, accessorising with a rosary tucked inside her lingerie...”[/b] He took a breath. [b][i]“She’s getting a job at the firm come Monday, the Mrs. will stay with the cheating attorney, moonlighting aside she really needs his money, a wonderful caricature of intimacy-”[/i][/b] Feeling like he’d hogged the mic, he offered it back, but now he was really hot and bothered from the situation and the song, and you could see it in his dilated pupils and his parted lips.