It made exactly zero sense that Ryan should come here, with relatively zero forewarning, close to the middle of the night, so on - and then be an asshole to Brendon. If they had to pick [i]someone,[/i] it should be Brendon scaring him off with his frankness, but apparently Ryan's sense of how to treat other human beings totally died out around him. Anyway, it probably didn't matter; Brendon seemed way more confused than he seemed annoyed. Ryan didn't blame him. If he was in Miami and Brendon flew in from D.C. to crash his hotel room, he'd wonder a few things: how come it had to be [i]him[/i] he chose to see, why would Brendon abandon all his business for [i]Ryan[/i] across the country, how long was he planning on bumming around, so on. Yeah, he could see it from Brendon's point of view, but mostly he didn't care. Let him be confused. Ryan was self-important around him and him alone, so he may as well act as entitled as he wanted while he was here.

He thought he sounded vindictive, even, but then Brendon was clearly trying to suppress a laugh, biting his lip withholdingly. Ryan could practically feel the scrutiny. He set his jaw tight, more pissed by the second. [i]You were the one who came here, Ryan.[/i] Brendon had the nerve to sound bored. There was a messy internal conflict following that; Ryan wanted to send him over the edge, make him spiral the way he was himself, watch him lose his shit like he'd seen hundreds of time before, all because he sounded so damn [i]smug[/i] about all of this and how dare he be bored when Ryan felt as awful as he did now. Then the other side of the war wanted some kind of comfort, wanted the person he'd basically only ever been an asshole to to be gentle with him, tell him what he had with Keltie wasn't the end of the world and make him believe it. That side was pretty unequipped for battle, though, and had rarely existed as strongly and as frequently as the other, so mostly Ryan was angry. 

It seemed like he got close - Brendon's jaw set tight, he could tell from the tensing muscles at the sides of his face, and his eyebrow arched critically. Didn't feel like much of a win, still. [i]Hey, I haven’t got a problem with Keltie, she seems nice. Bad taste in men.[/i] Damn. Ryan had already pulled the 'fuck you' card twice, but still it was on the tip of his tongue. Instead he made an exasperated sound, something between a sign and an 'ugh,' and tipped his head back, shoving his hands through his hair and holding them there while he glared at the ceiling. [b]"Hilarious. Dickhead."[/b] Yeah, sure, he hadn't been joking, but Ryan could pretend. He nearly went for a sensitive spot, said something like '[i]if she has bad taste for liking me, then you do, too,[/i]' but that came too close to actually talking about whatever weird double-nature relationship they had, and he wasn't ready for the awkwardness behind that. Nor was he ready for whatever accusatory comeback - and a rightly founded one, most likely - Brendon would come up with.

[i]Maybe that’s why she’s still with you.[/i] Ryan's gaze shifted slowly, miserably, from the ceiling to Brendon, and he looked at him tiredly for a long moment before rolling his eyes. [b]"Yeah. Maybe."[/b] He was off his game. He dropped his hands from his head back to his sides, fingertips digging into the couch cushion. [i]You’re a dumbass, you know that?[/i] Was this really the time to be reminding him? Ryan returned his attention to Brendon, suspicious about the sudden change in direction. [i]She’s always looked at you like you’re some kind of weird zoo animal. You’re her... Objective eye candy. A talking point in her circle.[/i] The anger in Ryan's face died out and he blinked at Brendon, mulling that over. It was true, and he knew it for a while on some level, just didn't really think about it. He didn't like addressing the way Keltie looked at him like some rare creature any time before, but now at the tipping point it was just another straw on the camel's back. 

Ryan shrugged a shoulder, reserved, and let his gaze flicker to the floor again, chewing his lip somewhat anxiously. [b]"I know,"[/b] he said in a more neutral voice, quieter. They still weren't being nice or even levelling, but the lack of confrontation in his tone was hard to find, so much so it felt almost odd not to be yelling at Brendon for being honest. [b]"I have known, I just -"[/b] Ryan paused, hesitant. What was he willing to say in front of Brendon? Again, if he was sober, he probably wouldn't have said a single word about any of it. Now, though, he was on the verge of a tangent and couldn't stop. He scratched his temple self-consciously, pulling his legs closer again while he stared at the floor intently. [b]"It makes you feel important, you know. Less damaged, being idealized like that."[/b] And that'd been the case. Somewhere along the way he had fallen even deeper into his destructive self-perception, thinking himself so fucked up and messy that he'd become codependent with Keltie. Honestly, it wasn't good for her either, but the bottom line was that neither of them were innocent here. Anyway this was all very dramatic, and he realized he'd been telling [i]Brendon[/i] about it and paled, suddenly deeply uncomfortable when seconds ago he'd waltzed in completely disregarding how unwelcome he was without issue.

But Brendon had mercy, even if it was short-lived, because he was quieter when he sat down on the other end of the couch, having the heart to look disinterested. That was probably an effort to get under Ryan's skin again, but really he'd rather not have Brendon's full undivided attention on him while he was being this sensitive about his shitty relationship. [i]Seriously. What are you even doing here?[/i] Ryan ran his hands over his face, then got through another shot, willing the room to spin more on him. He didn't know. He honestly didn't. He'd already run through a series of excuses; 'you were closest,' bullshit; 'no one else was available,' he probably could have found someone who didn't hate him that hadn't been at the party; 'I was going to be in Seattle for the show anyway,' yeah, still didn't explain the ditching the party rather than waiting 'til morning and choosing Brendon's place rather than getting his own room; so forth. The fact he didn't want to bring up: he really did want to see Brendon. Actually, despite the nature of their circumstances, he felt some kind of [i]relief[/i] from seeing him again. It made no sense at all. Like hell he was going to say that to Brendon, though.

Ryan started to speak, prepared to improvise entirely, and could only meet Brendon's gaze for a second before he had to look down again. [b]"I don't know. Actually, fuck, I should just - I can go. I don't know what I'm doing here."[/b] He nearly even said 'sorry' about it. Jesus, it must be a bad night. Ryan started to stand up, unfolding from what had become his little nook in the corner of the couch, and immediately felt his balance thrown. Feeling the room turning around him and his head swimming, Ryan dropped back down after a second, leaning all the way back against the cushions to stare at the ceiling and struggle to refocus his gaze. [b]"...On second thought, I might not be able to go."[/b] Ryan paused, reconsidered the whole apology he'd forced himself to pass up, then finally looked at Brendon again. [b]"I shouldn't've come. I'm... I'm sorry, whatever. I didn't think it through. I just couldn't be there anymore."[/b] 'And you came to mind first, because you were on my mind,' yeah, that didn't sound great, so miraculously he controlled his mouth for the time being.