What was funny about Ryan's move to seclusion was the fact that, out of his two closest friends, somehow the one he'd met latest and bonded less with was the one he stuck to. Alright, maybe not [i]funny[/i] - but certainly odd, and he supposed it was because he knew Spencer all too well. Did it hurt less to cut him off entirely or to send each other meager texts or call every few months, trying to maintain a dead connection? Ryan wasn't sure. He wasn't up to make trial runs, either, so he went with the former, although less harshly. This included not voluntarily speaking to him first and foremost, mostly because he had no idea what he'd even say at this point, but if Spencer were to contact him he wouldn't brush him off or ignore him. They weren't on strictly no-speaking terms, and he didn't harbor any ill will towards him, nothing like that. But things still didn't look good. As for Jon, the deal was mostly the same, and it worked better because Jon was actually the kind of person to keep reaching out regardless of whether the favor was returned. If he didn't make sure Ryan was alive every once in a while, they probably wouldn't be talking.

It was hard to explain why things had gone that way. An easy explanation was just that Ryan dropped everything, ran away somewhere to better himself as soon as he got the opportunity, because he was ambitious above all else. That was much simpler than the truth, although it was about as heartless, so he sometimes let even himself believe it. In reality, Ryan had grown detached from his friends on a timeline that didn't fit that tailored theory - Spencer had picked up a steadily worsening drinking habit by the time they were nineteen, and for a while Ryan turned a blind eye to his occasional drink. Since he was a kid, he figured they were all in it together to swear off drinking and drugs, or at least barely experiment with any substances, for obvious reasons; when Spencer was the first one to break he wasn't sure how to feel. Here was someone who saw firsthand what addiction did to people, how it affected those around them, and he was in denial about his own problem from the start. Ryan was gone by the time Spence started controlling his own prescription dosages in the name of bettering himself.

It wasn't the right thing to do at all, and it explained why Spencer hadn't really called Ryan himself or sent a message that didn't have Jon as a middleman. He'd been too afraid to watch Spencer's situation get worse, didn't think he had the ability to step in and help - in his experience, he could not feasibly do that. At the time he had thought himself fortunate for having all of this money to get the hell away from everyone, and now he was drowning in it, wishing he'd helped his friend when everything was still in the fairly early stages. Ryan was just shocked Jon could still stand to contact him. He hadn't ever really explained why he disappeared, or shown signs of his plans other than deliberately avoiding Spencer at times, so maybe Jon still didn't actually know the insane extent of how selfish he'd been... but that was unlikely. Jon just had a huge heart, he knew that. Ryan could've done much worse and Jon probably would still talk to him.

Anyway. He knew he was lucky things had taken a turn for the better once he'd been gone for a while - in fact he still shakily asked Jon every time they talked how Spencer was doing, trying not to dwell too much on the subject but too afraid that another person might've been taken from him to leave it completely alone. It was all very heavy and vaguely overdramatic, and Ryan wondered how much exactly Brendon knew about it all if he was friends with Jon - Jon wasn't the kind of guy to just unleash personal stuff like that when it was other peoples' business, too, but if you got a couple of drinks in him he was a little less careful. He was maybe too concerned that Brendon had formed his own opinions based on that history, maybe he judged Ryan for the way he dealt with things. In all fairness, if the tables were turned, Ryan would judge the fuck out of Brendon, so he had all the rights to feel like that. It just didn't feel great, especially when he wasn't sure how to make everything right again.

Mostly, so far, Brendon had entertained anything he said with ease, and if he ever seemed like he didn't like Ryan, it was 'cause Ryan was talking like [i]that[/i] again without catching himself. In the same way the thought of Brendon knowing that portion of his past made him nervous, the fair possibility that he'd read his books was equally nerve-wracking, but Brendon evidently hadn't. Thank god. Two bullets dodged, then. [i]Definitely a Virgo.[/i] Ryan unfortunately understood what he meant despite their humours being two different worlds, and he nodded like it was a true tragedy. [i]It can’t be that bad. It gave you the means to buy this fuckin’ mansion.[/i] Ryan looked at the ceiling resignedly, like he was only then remembering, yes, he was in this fuckin' mansion. He shrugged, didn't feel like explaining his success was owed to the ever-growing population of people going through some kind of new-age emo phase. Luck was on his side with the timing of his release. [i]And everyone seems to love it.[/i] Ryan thought about every bad critique or less than three star rating burned into his brain, conveniently all remembered as opposed to him forgetting all the good ones. He looked at Brendon with something unreadable, not sure how to respond [i]not[/i] negatively, and just left it at that.

There was something in Brendon's eye when Ryan explained he'd been the one to put the room together that was definitely discernible as him catching on to something. He couldn't help the tiniest smirk at that, watching Brendon gesture all around them with suddenly brighter eyes. [i]Seriously, this is tight.[/i] Tight. Ryan made yet another mental note of the way he talked, tilting his head curiously in response to his word choice. [i]Hey, if your writing career crashes and burns- become an interior designer.[/i] Ryan rolled his eyes, but made it clear enough that he was flattered. [b]"Thanks. Predicting the future, there."[/b] He was kidding, really. But he was a little afraid that his next contract would be bullshit that ruins his success streak.

If he'd been paying attention to anything other than the canvas on Brendon's arm he might've noticed how much he'd inadvertently freaked him out. Alas, he didn't catch it, and therefore went on believing this was totally fine. [i]I have a music degree.[/i] Ryan's face must have shown how he felt about that, he was sure of it; as much as he pretended none of it was that personal to him anymore, he missed music, missed making it and puzzling out chords and everything. No one but the two people he'd left behind had ever shown an equivalent passion for it, but Brendon was showing a lot of promise as of yet. One thing was concerning- if he had a music degree, why was he here, of all places? Education no longer guaranteed a job, he knew. Bullshit. Ryan figured he had to have some kind of connection to get Brendon somewhere he wanted to be; after all, he had plenty of contacts to provide him with his instruments, expand his collection. Someone had to have an opportunity for the guy. [i]Sweet[/i] - and it looked like he was genuinely excited about the prospect of having some equipment around.

Ryan backed off a little, hesitant, because he wanted to leave Brendon alone but he'd also been given a large influx of information in a small space of time. This last part was important to him, though, and he didn't want to forget. And- he sort of thought helping Brendon might temporarily make up for what happened between him and the last people he cared about. [b]"One last thing - don't let me forget that. If you have a music degree, you may as well be using it. We can talk about finding something for you later, all right?"[/b] He pursed his lips, tentative, but finally tapped the doorframe as a means of an [i]actual[/i] goodbye before turning to leave.