Ryan already wasn't in tune with his own emotions much anyway, but the complications with Brendon were much, much worse. Yes, when asked, his plain answer was that he hated Brendon, down to the bone. But here he was, picking him as an escape route when reasonably if he hated Brendon as deeply and truly as he said he did, he'd have just slept on the New York City street until morning. And it's kind of universally accepted that if you hate someone, you don't desperately want them to care about you and be sensitive to your situation. Ryan was introspective for sure, but he didn't want to dwell too much on the complexities of all of that. Rather than try to understand [i]why[/i] Brendon had adopted the role he did in Ryan's life, and why it was that fucked up and convoluted, Ryan ignored it, reacted in whatever way came naturally thanks to the haze of drinks clouding his judgment. Normally he'd stick to his guns and stay cold and bitter no matter what, but. This was a very new situation, all unfamiliar feelings.

And although he was drunk, Ryan wasn't totally oblivious to how he looked. Pretty pathetic, really. It could be chalked up to just girl trouble, sure, but that was an easy way out; his issues were primarily with Keltie but didn't end there. He was also newly troubled by whatever the hell the subconscious whims were that drove him here. He'd never even given Brendon a faint chance of being his friend, or his [i]acquaintance,[/i] anything. With these new, unfamiliar circumstances, Ryan was a little afraid that he didn't just hate Brendon, and now his conscience was trying desperately to show that. On some level, apparently, he wanted to be with him on this milestone, as much as he tried to explain it away with something else. And, understandably, Brendon wanted him all the way fucking gone. Ryan agreed even though it had been his own feet carrying him here - it'd be easier to be suffering through that bullshit party than it was to deal with his unpredictable shifts in feeling.

[i]Well... I wasn’t joking.[/i] The content of his words aside - asshole, as per usual - Ryan noticed for the first time how rough Brendon's voice sounded, and then, by extension, the state of him, the room. Clearly he'd been alone for some time now, without even a phone call as evidenced by the disuse of his voice. Ryan regarded him more carefully for a few seconds, wondering if that was by choice, if he was lonely or just preferred the time to himself. His natural instinct was [i]good, he deserves it[/i], for the former, and [i]fuck him, he can't have it,[/i] for the latter, but on the same scary subconscious level as before, Ryan was almost worried. Sure, Ryan himself had had a shitty time as of late, but he was surrounded by people, and some of them even meant well. Brendon looked like he'd successfully roped himself off, oddly enough considering he was the extrovert out of the group. But Ryan's drunk brain was the one that brought up these unnecessary concerns and it was the (gradually weakening) sober part of him that quickly dismissed them; if Brendon had been alone for days, then that was pretty pathetic, and he was an asshole anyway so he should be. Logic and reason, there.

Thankfully, Brendon was on the same page, and didn't oblige Ryan's BAC by being merciful towards him. Well - not [i]much,[/i] anyway, because Ryan knew he could be really digging deep, tearing him a new one, if he wanted. That was slightly irksome in itself, knowing Brendon was holding back, but clearly he wasn't prepared for Ryan to be here. He comforted himself in knowing that the reservations weren't for his sake and Brendon was just low energy. [i]What’s the big deal, just break up with her.[/i] That was the coldness Ryan was used to. He smirked for a split second, cynically, then actually thought about those words. He'd been thinking about it, just never heard it out loud, and it didn't really help to hear it in Brendon's voice specifically - but still. After a few moments trying to imagine what it would be like to actually go through with that - god, Keltie would [i]cry,[/i] and knowing the nature of their relationship probably argue, make him feel like shit about it - Ryan felt like he honestly couldn't ever do it, he was trapped. In a brief lapse of judgment, Ryan forgot to hide his heart, wearing the mixture of fear and vulnerability on his face. It lasted for a second, give or take, before he remembered the ruthlessness of his company, and hid half his face in the palm of his hand, blinking rapidly.

He thought he could get out of there and made a wholehearted attempt only to be turned right down by the unforgiving forces of gravity. No way he was going, clearly, unless Brendon very kindly bodily threw him out. He'd appreciate that, actually. [i]You think?[/i] That tiny part of him still felt bad for intruding, and he gave in momentarily, genuinely apologizing against every fighting spirit within him that protested against it. And fucking Brendon let a quiet overcome them that made him dwell on it. Great. Ryan cringed inwardly. [i]You’re what? Can’t hear you.[/i] He wasn't lying, he really was apologetic, but now he didn't [i]want[/i] to be, or at least he didn't want Brendon to know. So he bit back. [b]"Forget it,"[/b] he muttered, trying to stand again and hanging on to the back of the couch. He succeeded in that first step, staying as still as he could while he willed the room to stop spinning, a death vice on the seatback. 

While waiting, though, Brendon spoke up again, looking thoughtful. [i]Look, you’re obviously upset, I just don’t get why.[/i] Ryan's turned a tired face on him again, thinking that this was actually a pretty soft approach. He could just be saying 'suck it up,' or something, but. He wasn't. Ryan pursed his lips, trying not to look [i]grateful[/i] or anything similarly gross. [i]You and Keltie were never meant to be together forever or some shit like that. Just be thankful it’s earlier on. It’ll hurt less.[/i] He was right. He was absolutely right, Ryan knew it, just. It didn't feel good, didn't feel like the right resolution. And- 'it'll hurt less'? Since when did Brendon give a fuck about what hurt him or not, and how much? Ryan blinked at him, considering sitting back down but suddenly too restless, endlessly anxious in the wake of a desperate situation. [i]Anyway, you’re here now. There’s no point apologising.[/i]

He was being... uncharacteristically patient. Well, it was characteristic, in truth, just not with Ryan in mind. Ryan watched Brendon a little longer, wondering if he was as confused and muddled up as Ryan was, but that was a long shot. He most likely wasn't. Ryan wasn't sure what he expected from him at this point. Instead of directly addressing his rational approach to Ryan's distress, he veered slightly off topic, his attention span short at the moment anyway. [b]"...I was going to come to Seattle, anyway. For the show later. It wasn't just you."[/b] He nearly said something like 'don't flatter yourself,' but again. Whatever was in alcohol made him not want to hate Brendon as much. Ironically, he hated [i]that[/i] phenomenon. All the same, it was responsible for him using the pleasantries he had never done before with Brendon. [b]"Um. Thanks. For-"[/b] He didn't know. Awkward suddenly, Ryan's steadying grip on the couch was no longer helpful to him staying upright, and he swayed a bit. [b]"I don't know, just. I knew I was going to have to break up with her, but hearing someone say it out loud... thanks, whatever."[/b] So maybe 'whatever' negated whatever sincerity he had, but he meant it, deep down.