Without his wings, in this corporeal form, Brendon was indistinguishable from ordinary human beings. He was, perhaps, a little too untouchable beautiful to match the criteria of what it was to be human- flawed, not perfect, rough around the edges. They were rough diamonds, quality with a lot of work and dedication, and Brendon was already flawlessly cut. However, despite his astounding appearance as a human, and maybe his odd, slightly unusual and socially inept behaviour, he had half-mastered customs and speech patterns that sounded at least vaguely realistic. He didn’t realise that people thought he was odd when they spoke to him, that he didn’t really fit in- even if he did realise, he wouldn’t mind. As long as they didn’t suspect anything (which was almost impossible, humans were too oblivious, absorbed in their own little bubbles, and/or just simply would never comprehend things beyond their own understanding), it was fine, if when he was walking down the street, all he did was turn a few heads. 

Actually- aside from appearance and behaviour alone, an angel’s presence was generally sweet and calming, almost magnetic, and people subconsciously wanted to remain as close as possible without passing the normal human boundaries of personal space. Brendon had no concept of that, so he didn’t mind and in fact understood that Ryan seemed to be inching absent-mindedly closer, towards the source of the calm feeling settling in his bones. Brendon imagined he hadn’t felt like that in a long time, and considered that maybe once he stepped away and the intensity of it faded away, it wouldn’t be of any benefit. It would be like coming down from a high, and he’d feel a million times worse. In an effort to lessen that blow, he remained close, under the guise of friendliness. He stepped past Ryan into the apartment, brushing intentionally against his side and moving as if he weighed nothing, which, even in this body, he probably hardly weighed anything. Ryan was taller than him, he noted, but wasn’t sure why that was relevant. He supposed he just had to note down everything he realised and inferred about him, in hope it might be useful later on. Or something like that. Brendon temporarily got distracted by his own thoughts and hesitated in the middle of the floor, staring off into space.

[i]Mornings, I work the in this book sho in the city. Customer service.[/i] Brendon looked surprised for a moment, because why was Ryan telling him this, he already knew- oh, Ryan didn’t know that he knew. Turning to look at Ryan curiously, he then remembered that he had asked the question in the first place, because he had to organically regain this information or Ryan would be tremendously freaked out when he started asking if his dad’s condition was getting worse without even asking him about his family. He nodded after a second, and he didn’t even have to pretend to be interested. This man was the only reason he was present, this man was his new priority, and he planned on giving him full, undivided attention. He was already- fond of him. That was the strongest positive emotion he had probably ever experienced. Still, the strength of it on earth surprised him, and he was still smiling comfortably. [i]At night I wait tables. It’s all very glamorous.[/i] Brendon nodded again, attentively. He knew that being stuck in those jobs forever was Ryan’s idea of hell. He knew that if nothing changed about his situation, he probably wouldn’t be on earth to be helped for much longer. He felt an odd feeling in his throat and swallowed, before quirking a brow and keeping up his persistent smile.

Brendon had sat down, poised and somewhat out of place in the remarkably ordinary apartment, and he was still watching Ryan, having probably not taken his eyes off him for more than thirty seconds the entire time he had been here. To be honest, there were worse people to have to constantly pay attention to. Ryan was nice to look at. In fact, he could barely tear his eyes away even if he wanted to. A moment after Ryan uneasily mentioned his debts, Brendon paused to pretend to consider his response when he already knew what he was going to do long before he arrived. The confusion on his face confirmed for Brendon tat he wasn’t use to being offered- or accepting- any form of help. [i]You really don't... have to... It's my debt, you know? Don't worry about it.[/i] He shrugged one shoulder, rested his chin in his hand and blinked slowly, earnest amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. [b]”If I move in here, consider it my debt, too.”[/b] [i]Uh, well - let's not get ahead of ourselves, just... make sure you even want to live here first, yeah?[/i] Well, he definitely did, no doubt about that. [b]”Whatever you say. It’s really not a problem.”[/b]

As Ryan sat across from him, he removed his chin from his hand and instead draped himself back over the chair, somehow still perfectly balanced despite feeling very uncoordinated and clumsy in this earthbound form. How did humans do it all the time? [i]Suit yourself, Bren.[/i] That smirk. Brendon’s lips parted a little as he examined the change in expression, one he wasn’t used to seeing, one he definitely didn’t expect from Ryan. Mentally copying it, he fabricated and returned the smirk, the corner of his mouth tilting up and his eyebrows quirking. [i]Bren,[/i] he repeated in his head. He decided he liked it. [b]”I like that. You can call me whatever you like.”[/b] 

He didn’t have the foresight to think of a job, or a backstory. Rookie mistake- even if he was a relative rookie compared to some. Brendon wondered for a moment if he was the right choice to help somebody so at risk. Coming out with the first job he could think of that didn’t require set hours that he had to disappear for, he landed on model, the word more of a question until Ryan confirmed it was believable. [i]I could've guessed. Considering you look like that, it must be a reliable income, so. Fine by me.[/i] Brendon laughed, a gentle sound, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. [b]”Thank you, but if it were based purely on looks, you’d be as well off as me,”[/b] He remarked, not aware that what he was doing was accidental flirting. Brendon was just being honest- honesty was a virtue. [i]That’s all? No backstory? Where were you before Vegas? Do you do anything else besides modelling - any hobbies?[/i]

Too many questions that he didn’t have answers to. Brendon started, a little concerned he’d be denied the opportunity to live here, and rapidly designed himself a believable backstory that was based on his own, scaled down considerably. [b]”I came from up north,”[/b] He began, drumming his fingers distractedly on the table, the first sign that he wasn’t always so composed. [b]”To get away from my dad. He’s really controlling, y’know? Sometimes it’s better to be by yourself. Well. Away from family, anyway. You don’t get to pick your family, so you get what you’re given. And it doesn’t work out for everyone.”[/b] Brendon was looking down, now, at his feet, as he tried to think if that needed any more elaboration. [b]”Oh, and- I sing.”[/b]