Maybe if their introduction had gone better, Brendon and Ryan’s relationship would be completely different- much more positive, and since the electricity between them apparently wasn’t hindered by mutual hatred, it was likely that it would be present. Then again, there was something about the angry tension between them that fired them up even more; Brendon tried not to think about it, tried not to think about how it would be if things played out differently. There was no point- Ryan was a pretentious motherfucker with a bruised ego and Brendon had a sense of arrogance, embers of overconfidence that had been tempered into an inferno by Ryan’s constant attempts to antagonise him. Now, Brendon had no desire to try and ‘fix’ their relationship, or try and create some kind of friendship, because his distaste for the guitarist was now so strong. In the beginning, Spencer had told Ryan to stop (Jon wasn’t around til later- their original bassist had nothing to do with any of it and eventually got fed up of the constant bickering), but now there was no point. Musically, the band functioned, and they put on good shows. In the end, that was what was important.

Brendon was no longer guilty, either, because in his eyes, Ryan was just completely full of himself; always criticising Brendon about [i]everything-[/i] his skills (or lack thereof, according to Ryan) on the guitar, his lyrics (Ryan had written all of them for their only album, and whenever Brendon tried to contribute creatively he was shut down, like Ryan was scared of losing that area of control), even his vocals when Ryan was feeling particularly confident and sure of himself. Brendon never took it to heart for the latter, because he had the perfect retaliation. [i]Sorry, Ryan, who’s the lead vocalist? Who’s the frontman?[/i] He would say, and Ryan would shut up and just continue glaring at him, clearly burningly envious of his talents. It wasn’t like Ryan couldn’t sing, and Brendon knew this, no matter how much he said otherwise; his voice just wasn’t as powerful, as confident as Brendon’s, and it just didn’t really fit with the overconfident lyrics that Ryan had written about infidelity and religion and jealousy and revenge. Brendon secretly thought they were brilliant, if a little over the top. For songs such as [i]Lying Is the Most Fun,[/i] when he performed live he would almost mock them with his tone, flashing amused looks over at a clearly irritated Ryan.

[i]Is it still me that makes you sweat-[/i] Brendon would pointedly send a look over at the disgruntled guitarist, and usually Ryan was intentionally looking away, clearly sick of Brendon’s playful attitude. [i]Haven’t you heard that I’m the new cancer-[/i] Brendon would slyly throw smirks at Ryan- [i]Never looked better, and you can’t stand it.[/i] He hammed it up as much as he could, because even if these weren’t lyrics, they weren’t even written about him, it was funny how they related to their situation, and Ryan needed no prompting to understand that a lot of the time, Brendon’s smug vocals were directed towards him. After shows, Brendon would be riding the adrenaline rush and Ryan would have his back up, defensive and ready to snap at even the slightest indication that Brendon was mocking him. At this point, though Brendon could be equally malicious, he never really started it. He just sure as hell tried to finish it, and if the opportunity arose, he’d take it.

It was difficult to make fun of him, though, when he had his new girlfriend held close to his side, his elbow hooked around her waist. Brendon had narrowed his eyes just a little and examined the way they stood together. He wished it was just a way to make him jealous, he hoped Ryan wasn’t actually that into her, but unfortunately, it seemed to him that they did like eachother. She barely took her eyes off him, and Brendon felt a little sick with jealousy, then with anger. Son of a bitch. Even though he knew it wouldn’t really last long (Ryan had a pattern, and they were both young with no real intention of settling), he was achingly jealous, and it made him so mad. He [i]hated[/i] Ryan, but- somehow, he felt betrayed, because he knew just how much Ryan wanted him. It was obvious. So why the hell was he with Keltie? Brendon’s jaw set through the initial introductions, but now he felt like he was about to snap, and tried to keep his comebacks sharp and short as possible. [i]Not desperate? Weird. I've always thought you acted about as desperate and petulant as humanly possible.[/i] God, that motherfucker. Brendon remained looking nonchalant, but his teeth were clenched together as he flashed Ryan a fake smile. [i]Is it just your personality?[/i] Brendon paused, shifted, tilted his head. [b]”Maybe you just want it to be.”[/b]

[i]Maybe you're only like that around me, though.[/i] Brendon’s gaze flickered over to where Jon was leading Keltie wisely away from the scene and out of the crossfire. He then looked back at Ryan, suddenly without his girlfriend stuck at his hip. He tried not to look too amused, and said in a hushed, knowing voice- [b]”You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”[/b] Brendon bit his lip, sitting up a little and pushing his hair back out of his eyes to regard his bandmate more critically. Who was he even kidding? [i]’Cause clearly it’s killing you to see me with her, right.[/i] Brendon’s stretched his mouth into a thin line, and scowled for a split second before he decided not to grace that with a reply. Breezy, he stood up suddenly, taking the few short steps to close the gap between them, stepping by at the last minute to walk past him, hand brushing against his side- definitely accidentally. He turned at the door, tilting his head a little to look up at him. [b]”Seeing as you’re so concerned, maybe I’ll start dating. Not like I don’t have options. Have fun with your girlfriend, dickhead.”[/b]