In the beginning he had no direction. He wasn't sure what his life was like before his routine was filled with Brendon, Brendon, Brendon - make sure he had as few family visits as possible, make sure he didn't make too big an ass of himself in front of media, manage his accounts so he didn't act too chaotic, et cetera. And then it was showing up to meet him every night if he wasn't already there, and ignoring how much he wished he could kiss him during the day, too, and constantly denying his own pretty obvious feelings for him. At some point he'd gotten the hang of it so well that it was no longer a job. He [i]liked[/i] calling up stupid reporters and settling with them to dilute a Brendon story. He [i]liked[/i] hunting down designers and trying to convince them that, no, Brendon wasn't going to be in any movie or make any music, but he was still a public figure and here's lots of money. And he liked sitting there for hours managing the business his father had pushed on him and reading boring property terms, whatever was necessary, because he preferred for Brendon's life to be as stress-free as possible.

And that was dramatic to say, but true. He was a student not really sure he wanted to get another degree because he'd used up his scholarship, and he still had to live with his father half the time because he was broke, and he couldn't even get hired part-time. Between basically taking care of his dad and running off to Spencer's, he didn't do much else, and the busy routine was welcome. As much as it seemed like Ryan did for Brendon, Brendon had given him a way out of what looked like a directionless life. He'd figured he could get by on royalty checks, maybe busking, and now here he was - finishing tasks he didn't mind at all for a [i]very[/i] unreasonable amount of compensation. Plus, Brendon was the first person he'd felt this way about, and some actual emotion - as opposed to his old superficial relationships, or the flat platonic friendships - was a nice change. 

So letting that go was hard. He hadn't even resigned and it felt like the biggest loss of his life. Brendon was within, like, ten minutes of him, not even that, and he felt so far. And they were still [i]friends[/i], Ryan was just ridiculously sensitive and it wasn't that easy to get himself under control; even with the easy access to texts he hadn't taken advantage of it or seized any opportunity to reconnect. He was scared. He could go back and mess up again, disappoint Brendon by not being able to accept his boyfriend, or his feelings would rise right back to the surface and he'd have to ignore himself again, or any other weird fictional disaster he tortured himself thinking about. It was the balance, between those possibilities and the fact that he missed Brendon so much that it hurt, which he struggled with. And here he was, just a few months ago not caring about anything; now he'd distanced himself from it so long that all he did was worry.

Brendon looked weirdly underdressed for, well, Brendon, no suit or anything luxurious and regal. Then again, it probably would've been harder for him to get there without being recognised... or he had to make a quick escape from his apartment. Ryan just hoped he wouldn't have to hunt Shane down. [i]Uh- yeah. Are you- are you busy?[/i] Ryan considered him for a moment, his expression softening. He wasn't dressed the same as usual, oddly casual, and he looked weirdly nervous for someone who Ryan thought could never be that anxious. His priorities weren't in going to this date, they were all about Brendon. After a brief pause, Ryan smiled reassuringly again, shaking his head. [b]"No, I'm free,"[/b] he said, stepping back in preparation to let Brendon in before he even asked. [i]Can I come in?[/i] He swung an arm to the side to welcome him, closing the door gently behind Brendon.

While he was turned to close it, Ryan quickly pulled his phone from his wallet, typing out the briefest of cancellations to his date. Short notice, and he'd look like a dick, but whatever. [i]Do you have to be somewhere?[/i] Lots of questions. Something was definitely up, 'cause Brendon didn't usually concern himself about being intrusive, or whatever. Trying to keep his attention so Brendon didn't see him driving himself crazy with an array of differently colored Post-It notes everywhere - thankfully he had only left a few out in the living room - Ryan rested a hand at the small of his back to lead him towards the center of the room, complete with armchairs and a sofa. [b]"No, I don't have to be. You can take a seat if you want. Do you want something to drink? I have, uh... water."[/b] Ryan pursed his lips, looking remorseful for his lacking selection. 

Nevertheless he sat tucked into the armrest of his couch, his hands folded together, pushing on his knuckles by nervous habit. He tried to get a word in first so that maybe he could, like, help Brendon settle down. He wasn't sure whether he had that effect anymore. [b]"I'm glad you're here, 'cause I wanted to say, um..."[/b] He hesitated. He had a lot to say and a lot of it wasn't appropriate to bring up, especially not as a conversation starter. He chose a pretty neutral route against what he'd initially wanted to own up to, something about how he was sorry. [b]"I miss you, too."[/b] Funny way to respond to old Brendon texts, out loud. [b]"I never know what to do with myself anymore."[/b] He laughed a little, only to keep from being too embarrassed about his lack of productivity lately, and then shrugged one shoulder dismissively. [b]"Stupid, I know."[/b]