So maybe Brendon was a little upset when Ryan actually agreed to go to the 21st birthday party his friends were throwing him, but he didn’t voice that. At first he didn’t go straight to disappointment, and rather saw it as an opportunity- [i]open bar, jackpot-[/i] but when Brendon mentioned in passing,  ‘oh, I’ll probably wear this to your 21st’, Ryan kind of turned to him, looking vaguely concerned, and gently let him down. His boyfriend told him he was not of age yet, so he wouldn’t be let in anyway; Brendon kind of scoffed at that, he’d find a way- and besides, he knew Ryan was really just telling him that even if he was 21, he didn’t really want Brendon around that kind of thing. Brendon was currently in recovery, and was doing quite well- the thoughts that jumped to the forefront of his mind were just wishful, impulsive thinking, and Brendon pushed them firmly to the back of his mind. Honestly, he just wanted to be around people, to be social, to have fun at parties, to be with his boyfriend- since drinking alcohol was often a social thing, though, it was difficult for him to do just that. Ryan was right, obviously. Didn’t mean Brendon had to like it.

He supposed he couldn’t really be that bothered- Ryan was usually selfless, always thinking about Brendon before himself, and it was rare for Ryan to even leave Brendon alone for a few hours- they were ridiculous and almost codependent to the point of almost unhealthy- let alone go to a party in a different state. So Brendon didn’t kick up a fuss like he sometimes did, he just kind of forced a smile until it became a real one- he was happy Ryan was actually attending something like this. Ryan flew out the day before the party, and Brendon had tried not to hang onto him at the door. He kind of just sat around, then- eating pizza, playing video games, messing around aimlessly with the guitar- he managed to fill the time enough so he wasn’t bored out of his mind, but he needed more stimulation- from other people. And all of his friends were at Ryan’s party. He was, unfortunately, one of, if not the youngest of all of them. And Joey was back in England, having not yet got him and Wade organised enough to move to the states.

He survived on his own for the first day, then night, where he felt a little lonely, used to being cuddled for five seconds before he got too hot and pushed Ryan gently but firmly away- but he had called Ryan, leaning back against the headboard, and talked to him until Ryan said his phone was dying, when he finally put the phone down on the dresser and went to bed. The next day was the day of the party, and Brendon lay on his back for most of the day, snapchatting Ryan and sending endless messages to the group chat, demanding people kept him informed. Luckily, Dallon was organised, so managed to talk Brendon through it until he was satisfied. Then, he spent the day flicking through channels after going out to do some light grocery shopping and even get some lunch. It was nice to do his own thing for once, sure, but he felt a loss where Ryan’s hand should have been interlinked with his own.

Brendon told himself to get over it, it wasn’t like Ryan was dead, he’d be home sometime tomorrow, early afternoon, possibly later- but it had been too long for Brendon to enjoy being on his own anymore, he thrived on attention and companionship. So he texted Ryan up until the start of the party, when he started seeing pictures of snapchat, pictures of Ryan looking ridiculously cute and holding whiskey. Brendon smiled fondly, even at the possibility Ryan was a little tipsy. He was glad his boyfriend was enjoying himself. He managed to last a whole hour before messaging him again, asking him how it was going. He got an almost immediate response of [i]It’s okay, I wish you were here,[/i] and Brendon didn’t reply, just turned the TV back on for another hour, hour and a half until he got another text. [i]I’m bored, I’m buying a plane ticket.[/i] Okay, what? [i]What do you mean?[/i] A quick reply of, [i]I’m coming home.[/i] Brendon was grinning, but also concerned. [i]But, your party.[/i] He got no further explanation but a rough estimate of when he’d be home, and airport updates every now and then. God, Brendon loved him.

He did intend on cleaning up a little before Ryan got home (he was scruffy, his hair was unruly, he needed to shave, and he definitely hadn’t been wearing the same clothes for a few days), but lost track of time and suddenly Ryan was [i]on his way,[/i] and he’d be home in an hour maximum. Brendon turned off the TV and got into the shower, dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist, stood in front of the mirror over the sink to shave whilst simultaneously texting Ryan. [i]Okay Baby, I love you, see you soon.[/i] It was quite difficult to do both at the same time, but he managed, and he was clean shaven. He then turned away to go and find some clean clothes, and only found the only pair of jeans he hadn’t ripped- then he had a two minute debate with himself over whether to just wear his cropped sweater or one of ryan’s shirts that somehow fit him. He went with the sweater, pulling it over his head after he’d put on the jeans, and then went back to the bathroom to style his hair. When he was done, he stepped back. There. He was pretty again.