Sometimes Ryan thought he might be in over his head. Sure, Brendon wasn't a particularly threating presence even if he was incredibly powerful and wealthy just by his birthright. It was his family that was intimidating; what if Ryan did eventually have to accompany Brendon to something more serious than concerts he attended or clubs he frequented, or to retrieve his takeout, whatever... He'd have to meet several of the richest people in the world, all with net worths he couldn't earn if he worked three different lives. Brendon didn't talk about them much beyond petty complaints, but Ryan figured there was some sort of alienation there - hell, it probably even caused whatever fallout put Brendon into his current position. It was worrying in that, if they could affect someone of his natural character, they'd definitely break Ryan. So he was passably qualified for his job until it came to people other than who he directly worked for.

The more comfortable Ryan got with him the more he started to consider basic duties just missions of friendship. If he had to walk with Brendon to shoo away strangers who gravitated towards a public figure, then he'd talk to him and suggest cafés and laugh, not quite fitting the typical steely-eyed scowl-wearing bodyguard figure. Then, maybe he didn't really have to look like that since he wasn't [i]defending[/i] Brendon or anything. He probably couldn't in any scenario, anyway, considering he was about as scrawny as him, just taller. He did a good job of keeping Brendon from saying stupid things in public, especially not to anyone reporting, and maintained his social media from spiralling too far out of control, ensured he didn't make any connections with people who had even worse images than him or bad histories. All this alongside the frequent favors and constant compliance probably made Ryan more bearable - plus, he wasn't overly controlling, just playfully nagging as a friend would. He wasn't sure that there was any more effective ways to go about any of it, as Brendon would probably just outright laugh at him if he formally went '[i]sir, you are required to delete that Trump slander for your own safety[/i].' That kind of thing he usually let slide anyway.

Soon after arriving, Brendon was freeing himself from the confines of his suit jacket, and Ryan gave a sideways smile at the predictable sight of him in a full suit in the earliest, nonexistent hours of the morning. He would've asked why, but the only answer would probably be 'why not.' Or Brendon asking why [i]his[/i] go to was still the old thrift store button-ups/vests/scarves/trousers/dress shoes combo when he could now afford high quality. Screw that. Everything Ryan made went to building a studio. [i]It’s fuckin’ [/i]divine.[i] And I don’t use that word lightly.[/i] Ryan distantly wondered what he had to compare it to, or if silk was his version of linens. It's not like Ryan grew up considerably poor, but it was easy to say that the longer his mom was gone, the more meals became plain rice with whatever he could scavenge from the backs of cabinets. He was a little shocked Brendon wasn't a complete jerk, considering Ryan knew for a fact that he himself would have ended up a gigantic, world-ending asshole if he had as much money at his disposal. In fact, it was sort of impressive how friendly Brendon was. But that was a long mental tangent to go on just based off of some silk sheets, so Ryan distracted himself from who was clearly his new obsession by looking off at the skyline.

 His interrogation came from a place of innocence even if he'd said it somewhat maliciously - that was just Ryan's nature. Brendon, however, didn't take it quite well, snapping towards Ryan with startling immediacy. I[i] don’t get [/i]lonely. Ryan looked at him, suddenly a little more visibly awake, and tried not to stare too long while he contemplated this. Sounded like Brendon wasn't so sure of himself. Of course he'd been lonely - and Ryan was insensitive to approach it that way in the first place. He had all these people around him at all times that it wasn't obvious initially, but very few of them volunteered to be with Brendon when it didn't involve him paying for their entertainment. If they did hang out with him in their free time, then they expected exchanges eventually, not just companionship. People wanted to be with Brendon for the benefits about 80% of the time, with little regard for how interesting a person he actually was. Ryan was exceptionally fortunate to be given as much time as he'd had with Brendon, come to think of it. Instead of responding, Ryan just nodded understandingly after a moment, meeting Brendon's eyes only briefly before he turned away again. Felt like he should leave that comment alone, anyway.

Moments later he felt ten times better because Brendon was laughing again, those little laugh lines by his eyes becoming animated and charming as ever. Ryan watched him with a tiny smile on his face, betraying his vaguely cynical manner of speaking, and barely felt the cigarette burning to the filter between his fingers. [i]Yeah, right. That isn’t very professional, is it?[/i] [b]"Then say I'm off-duty,"[/b] Ryan offered quietly, with no pause for thought. [b]"I'm not paid to be your friend. I chose that part."[/b] 'Friend' echoed in his head, 'cause it seemed like Brendon was sort of threatening that label, but he stuck to it anyway. Worse, Brendon built off of the removal of his jacket by starting just barely on his shirt, and Ryan felt obligated to glance away, finally crushing the burning filter in his hand against the balcony ledge and pushing himself off of it to stand upright. 

[i]Would you even say yes if I asked you to just come over?[/i] Ryan's hands wormed their way into his pockets and he shrugged, brow furrowing just slightly with concern. [b]"You make it sound so absurd."[/b] In any case he made a show of thinking it through, exhaling and looking up at the sky for a count of Mississippi. [b]"My visiting hours officially end at 4 a.m., so you just made it, yeah. I would've come over,"[/b] he said with a grin in his voice, trying to ease some of the tension he'd accidentally stirred. But it was hard to keep it that way, 'cause now Brendon had raised some red flags that made Ryan a little sad on his behalf; clearly he didn't think his company alone was enough to get someone he cared about here. He tried to work in that sentiment naturally... which was evidently hard to do without sounding ridiculously corny. [b]"Yeah, you don't need, like, a bribe, or a cover story. You're enough, you know?"[/b] Ryan shrugged again, dismissive, and he slowly turned on his heel, feeling dumb. Brendon didn't call him up here for any of that, obviously, but. He genuinely hadn't known how alone Brendon felt before - even if it wasn't truly desperate or life-threatening he didn't deserve to feel it at all. [b]"I'm wondering 'why me' when you probably could've called, like, the Queen, though."[/b] Joking, and exaggerating, but Ryan meant that point entirely.