For the past ten years Ryan's life had become thousands times more comfortable for him, easier and less stressful on a day to day basis. When he left high school and found himself signed to a record deal and being recognized on the street almost instantly it was intimidating. He was already the kind of person who couldn't say hi to people without staring primarily at the ground, couldn't approach customer service workers unless he had a good ten minutes to warm up, couldn't talk about himself without feeling like he'd been doing so for too long, so on. Then, without preparation, entering into a life where he'd have to talk to collaborators constantly and deal with their criticism that he already enforced so strictly upon himself and meet deadlines without any failure whatsoever and - [i]everything,[/i] it was a lot. Nothing he hadn't been striving for since he first picked up the guitar, really, because he knew he wanted to be a musician, he just hadn't anticipated the band picking up so quickly, and then the pace was so rapid that he thought he got motion sickness.

And then the split. They'd seen it coming for some time and not discussed it. Fans couldn't tell because luckily the first two albums were cohesive enough individually, but the four guys were the ones trapped in every tense recording room, they were the ones who exchanged lyrical ideas and instrumental tracks, and they could tell that each offering was gradually clashing more and more with one another. None of them coud choose a set direction for the third record, and the creative differences were getting in the way of them making anything at all, even turning them on each other occasionally when someone was so adamant about their idea being made into a reality. Ryan hadn't anticipated them falling apart this early on in their career, or relatively early anyway, and yet here they were, drifting. After months of struggling with each other or otherwise being avoidant, they called a time of death, and went their separate ways.

The 'separate ways' were determined by creative direction, because it made sense; Jon and Ryan had the same folk-ish indie easygoing sound, Brendon and Spencer were still more pop-punk, more relevant to what the general population would buy. Maybe that's why they got to keep the name - the band's background fit more with what they wanted to continue to do. Anyway, it did make sense, the way they doled out band members, but the confusing part was Brendon and Ryan. They'd been together for a [i]while[/i] by then, and had even been engaged, and then the split put strain on something Ryan had already been reconsidering. It wasn't Brendon's fault at all. As young as he was, though, Ryan had only ever experienced shitty relationships that came to screeching halts or explosive dissolves, and he honestly was not prepared to see Brendon go that way. These four friends were the only people he could keep consistent in his life, thus far; everyone else he'd fallen out with or something along the same lines.

It was unreasonable, really, but at the time that didn't occur to Ryan - and he still sort of stood by his decision as much as he regretted it ninety-nine percent of the time. Self-doubt had chased him from the initial proposal, even. He thought about his parents, mom leaving at such an early age, dad not bothering to stay functioning enough to keep his only kid more than just 'alive and existing.' He thought about all the girlfriends who turned out to not care that much for him, who cheated or who didn't see him or who wanted to change him. He thought about every friend who decided he wasn't a priority and dropped out of his life, or who once visited him daily only to eventually forget to call. He thought about the fact that the only person he could say he'd known for years for a reason other than their career was Spencer, and even Spencer didn't seem that interested all the time - though he could be fooling himself. So, a famed self-saboteur, Ryan pushed Brendon away before Brendon could hurt him first. He broke off the engagement, made a shoddy excuse about how it would be hard to keep up when they were in two separate bands, and promptly disappeared from his life.

That was [i]before[/i]. The tragic backstory, and everything. In ten years Ryan had successfully pretended his engagement didn't exist, not out of malice or coldness, but to keep his sanity. That was his closest confidant in the world, the person who changed his life, and he'd broken them up in a split second, so now he had to exist in a world where that didn't happen. It was the only way he could feasibly go on, really. Ryan started on a roll of basically back-to-back girlfriends; he didn't intend on any of them being long-term, especially didn't plan any engagements, and there was a mutual understanding about that in every scenario. He kept surrounding himself with pets, sticking by Dottie primarily, kept holing himself up in a strangely decorated and otherworldly home in Los Angeles just to keep writing songs he never showed anyone. Occasionally he'd make a public appearance on someone's Snapchat, or someone's Instagram, or in a grocery store where a fan would catch him and post it on YouTube, or at a Halloween party, et cetera. Basically, it was a yearly event that he would be caught in the public eye. His fans - though he doubted it was right to call them that by now, since he barely released anything to be a fan [i]of[/i] - would [i]not[/i] quit badgering him about it on social media.

Anyway. Ten years of reclusivity, basically. His friends were ones he kept particularly close and didn't reach out far beyond that. All of the old ones had grown distant from him, he supposed with time, or maybe they despised him for what had happened with him and his ex-fiance - he couldn't [i]blame[/i] them, and he knew it was a small friend group so there really was no way to not take it personally, but honestly, couldn't they mind their business? Go between the two of them like divorced parents? Whatever - now he kept up with another ex-girlfriend, Elizabeth, and she was his best friend. She made sure he was alive when he was particularly awful at keeping in contact, let the world know he was alive once she did. Others, Alex, Daniel, Langley, Jeremy, Allison - all of them were close, too, but he still only really saw them when he was forced out of his solitary shell of a home. Maybe that lifestyle wasn't really good for him. Whatever the case, he'd become accustomed to it, even comfortable, and it was much happier and simpler than the times when he woke up panicking about being late for a show or spent hours trying to find the exact right word for a song he figured people would probably forget about anyway. Ryan was meant to be a musician, sure, and that's what he was; he just wasn't cut out for any kind of superstardom.

This was one of the times where he was invited from his isolation zone, and because it was Z, Ryan was glad to accept. It wasn't just any party, though; she was inviting him to perform. On stage. In front of people. Who would be there, by the way, expecting him, because once he accepted, that's when posters started getting made - that's how she trapped him in it even after he found out about the performance. Special guest: him. Fuck. Anyway, Z promised it'd be better than his high school prom, so he tentatively continued, practicing with her for a few weeks before it became time to actually [i]go,[/i] and suddenly he was picking out a suit that made him look like he was graduating some sort of Navy training with Z, who looked naturally like his white-dressed, lost-at-sea wife. They tended to be like that, anyway. 

The event itself was packed, and luckily Ryan was able to hide backstage and pretend he was still setting up the entire time the venue was filling with a crowd. He could hear his name at least once every thirty minutes in passing conversation by the stage door and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Here was Ryan, virtually off the radar for ten years straight, and people were still excited to see him. It made his heart soar, his chest warm - what about him, ten years ago, freshly dropped out of college and not knowing what the hell he was doing, endeared him to people he never met for this long? What made him so important to them? He supposed it was just validation that he'd reached his ultimate goal, for his lyrics to mean something to someone, and evidently they did enough that people hung on to the idea of him for this long without anything to sate any appetite for more content. He appreciated it, genuinely and truly, and made sure to keep in mind to hang out after playing, try to show that appreciation somehow although he had no idea how to express the amount of gratitude he felt.

Ryan listened to Z play with that on his mind, a small smile on his lips like there always was when he heard her. She just had that innate talent; there was something otherworldly about her voice, her music, that drew you in, even if you weren't a fan of the softer sound she tended towards. The audience seemed to agree, judging by the hush that fell over them and the low hum of people who knew the lyrics singing along softly, then the onslaught of applause immediately following, cheers of her name and 'I love you's, so on. She smiled modestly, as per usual, and turned her head towards Ryan hidden offstage, and he took his cue to step forward from the darkness, slinging a guitar over his shoulder once he'd stepped into the glow of the stage lights. Ryan took a moment to look all around him first, too nervous-excited to face the crowd that was clapping again or listen to Z's undoubtedly generous introduction, and the fairy lights and gentle mood light seemed to settle him a bit. He finally looked back, waving at one side of the audience, taking in the faces, dropping his hand to strum at his instrument whilst he smiled at the rest of them.

Z's acoustic pointed to Jon and Ryan tried to follow the direction, excited to see a friend he only got to see once in a blue moon as of late (though he'd fallen out with him probably the [i]least[/i] of everyone), just to find that it wasn't just Jon. The friendly smile on his face disappeared, and instead of showing the guilt/fear/surprise that he instantly felt in his expression, Ryan let it go completely blank, save for maybe a distressed quirk in his brow. Brendon was here. [i]Somehow.[/i] He must not have followed any ads, because Ryan's name was plastered on all of them in big, bold lettering, so... Jon invited him. Was he up to something, here? Surely he didn't know that Brendon probably hated him for what he did, even after a decade, because if he did he'd be considerate enough to let them continue existing in completely separate worlds where it was safe. Somehow, Ryan remained relatively calm, ignoring the rapid beat of his heart and blinking slowly at Brendon, fixated on him alone now despite the fact that Z was moving on (a good idea, considering people were realizing their surprise visitor was here). It felt like an eternity that he just looked at him, and he was beautiful even when he was clearly shying away from the view of other guests, and for a moment Ryan felt like he did whenever he looked at him while they were engaged. 

But Ryan kept breathing, recuperated, kept strumming his guitar; he offered the tiniest smile to Brendon from afar, reverent, and then curled his hand over his mic, hanging off the stand timidly. He ignored the faint sense of dread all through his body, instead focusing on keeping up a smile that he gave to everyone, until finally it was Z and his time to sing. [b]"[i]Since we met I sit around and want you..."[/i][/b] Unfortunately, their song choice was now hilariously inappropriate. [b]"[i]I don't do the things I oughta do; I'm so in love I let the world go by me.[/i]"[/b] He'd been swaying vaguely, but Ryan's gaze landed briefly, uncomfortably, on Brendon again, and he started the first note of the next line that way before thinking better of it and looking away. [b]"[i]Nothing matters but you, nothing matters but you...[/i]"[/b] The song was something he'd definitely write when they were together, or maybe even in a fit of irrationality while he was trying desperately to forget about their romance and failed; it hurt all the more to sing in front of him, attention landing on him occasionally until he could feel the ache in his chest and had to turn again.

[i]That's all you get for now,[/i] Z teased once they'd finished, trailing off the last note sweetly and serenely, and Ryan laughed easy, quickly made his exit after waving and removing his guitar. He'd have to come back onstage later, but now - what was he supposed to do? Hide back here and pretend Brendon wasn't at the event? It's not like he didn't want to talk to him. Maybe if it was a few years ago, he'd still be wary about talking to him, but a decade had passed. Nothing could happen anymore. Besides, if he wanted to fix any anger Brendon might still have at him, now was the time. Ryan took advantage of the stage adrenaline leftover and braved it, weaving through the chattering, distracted audience while Z set up for the next song to play, giving brief 'hello's and friendly smiles and a hug or two when prompted. He got to Jon and Brendon surprisingly fast but they seemed focused on one another, and Ryan intercepted the circle of onlookers that had grown around Brendon to brush his arm feather-light, loosely attempting to turn him. [b]"Brendon,"[/b] he said enthusiastically, a nervous smile back on his face. He had to actually remind himself to finish his name, not just say 'Bren' - weird how that habit hadn't died out. [b]"It's great to see you, man, I would've never thought I'd see you here. Thank god for Jon Walker, right?"[/b] Jon, who seemed to have mysteriously moved away despite them standing still. Ryan glanced around briefly, where it seemed, thankfully, like only a few people had caught them, then back at Brendon. May as well take advantage of the relative privacy to sneak off. [b]"Hey, listen, do you want to come backstage?"[/b]