Press was not something Ryan bode well with. They certainly liked him - he was friendly enough, apparently intriguing, and occasionally an interviewer would have the talent to make him a little more comfortable so he wasn't entirely boring or awkward. Ryan, though, despite never showing it in any way, hated when the spotlight was directly on him or he had to talk for too long or a camera was capturing him. He could deal with being in the sidelines or writing in answers, like when magazines talked to them over e-mail or something. Unfortunately when the band was all sat down or caught off guard by an interviewer and a camera crew they targeted the singer and the lyricist, and Ryan sort of had to nudge Spencer and Jon ahead to answer for him eventually or deliberately give as little information as possible so that they could finish the answer themselves.

When Brendon joined, though, not only did he bring a voice to the music, but he also became the head speaker for them all. Interviewers wanted his input and he was able to, willing to give it; when they asked for camera shots he was of course up front and center. They all brought their own unique qualities, of course, but the rest of the band was sort of Brendon's backup or accompanying act. Jon was all right at entertaining some sort of banter between himself and Brendon, and Spencer usually redirected them to actually answering questions and stating fact whenever they were goofing off too much. Ryan was comfortable with tacking on little comments here and there, but never leading answers or being the center of conversation. Hard to do that when half the questions were about all these new changes, though.

Luckily, interviews came few and far between in the beginning. When the next album was no longer just speculation to the general public and they knew it was going to be released soon, though - that's when they had to start setting aside entire days dedicated just to the press. The questions were more monotonous than usual because of all their 'recent' changes (recent to the public, anyway) - [i]why did you decide to get a new vocalist, how did you choose him, is the next album gonna be very different now,[/i] etc. Sometimes it got personal and Ryan had no idea where they got some of this information, but assumed maybe LiveJournal despite the fact that he'd definitely deleted all the old entries that just skimmed the line of oversharing. They'd ask about Spencer's and Jon's girlfriends, or Ryan's home life, and [i]everything[/i] about Brendon, because of course a fresh face's privacy was harder to invade. Spencer and Jon could make jokes to dodge it all. Ryan relied on someone else changing the subject or answering the question for themself.

What he found, though, was that it was easy to not get bothered anymore by the attention and the nerves that came with press days. They'd not had one with Brendon in the band yet. The very first question Ryan was asked, he instinctively looked straight at Brendon, and suddenly it was a million times easier to get his message across without worrying about stumbling or being misunderstood or judged. So, of course, each interview was spent this way: occasional glances at the camera to acknowledge its existence, but mostly keeping his eyes on Brendon or whoever was talking next. He was all right at keeping his hands to himself, at least. The band was so tightly knit with no concern for boundaries that they lounged all over each other anyway, but still Ryan sat with his fingers knit together, body folded in on itself most of the time. In retrospect maybe he hadn't come across very approachable in all this.

In any case they ended up so far from home, having taken too many roads or connected flights, that they had to stay in a hotel overnight, and now since they were apparently high rollers could afford [i]two[/i] rooms. Ryan was pretty confident he wouldn't miss the days of all three of them (and, when on tour, the rest of the crew the label paid for) crammed into a single room. Alas, this time, he was quick to switch keys with Spencer just so he could share with Brendon, and the first thing he did upon arrival to the room was throw himself onto the mattress, legs still extended so his feet were on the floor. He shoved his hands up against his face, finally allowing himself to look anguished. [b]"Most embarrassing day of my life,"[/b] he mumbled into his palm, evidently still replaying every meeting since their early five a.m. morning to now, an equally early night of nine. [b]"And we have another tomorrow. I'm gonna say I'm sick."[/b]