[i]Oh, please.[/i] Ryan watched, fascinated, as his countenance changed, looking sweeter by the second. Maybe Ryan had, like, been drunk when he got here already and that's why he was so obsessed this fast. It was ridiculous. Anyway - Brendon was, coincidentally, forgetting that Ryan 'played straight' and got away with it about half of his life. It was a funny joke they were entertaining, but really he knew how to carry himself on red carpets, in front of cameras, when talking to interviewers - if he wanted to. These days he'd begun caring less and less, because the more comfortable he got with the idea of having an image any less than perfect (which he'd sort of fulfilled, what with the 'innocent young man haunted by a troubled past trying to save the world' schtick he'd carried around thus far), the more he let go of the firm leash he had on his behaviors and habits. But, yeah, Brendon was right. Looking at him now, he could [i]never[/i] pass for anything other than one-hundred-percent flaming. [i]Let’s be realistic.[/i] Ryan rolled his eyes good-naturedly, prepared to argue more on the subject until he was stuck staring at Brendon's hair having a life of his own, livening his already vibrant appearance.

Brendon was right, even if he hadn't voiced his understanding of the situation; not much in Ryan's life went under the radar anymore. Truly, he hadn't had a date where he could sit down and maintain comfortable conversation [i]without[/i] the flash of a camera interrupting since at least his first album. In fact, he was pretty sure the hairs standing on the back of his neck a couple of times here were because he'd already attracted attention inside the bar, and if that was the case, well. He needed to figure out a way to protect Brendon from [i]that[/i] uproar. The place was seedy, though, and the lighting was questionable in spots, so maybe that was their saving grace: people not actually knowing of him or just outright not being able to see clearly from a distance. Aside from that, things could get much, much worse. He'd moved a few times and still couldn't escape the fact that people kept hunting down his address, usually with good intentions but sometimes just going overboard. People at meet and greets, who were literally face to face with him, forgot boundaries entirely, giving him kisses or otherwise coming way too close without asking, trying to have him sign the most bizarre things or write messages he wasn't comfortable with, so on. He'd lost his personhood, apparently.

And he wasn't even a [i]massive[/i] star. He was big, sure, A-lister and everything, but he got off easy with all the bullshit that happened to him. He couldn't imagine progressing further in his career and watching it all get worse. In part, he was glad Brendon didn't press about it, not because he was averse to talking about everything but because he really, really didn't want to scare Brendon off with all of these horror stories. He wasn't stupid, clearly, maybe he understood what he'd be getting into anyway... but Ryan was getting ahead of himself, thinking about all of this. They weren't necessarily even starting anything. He'd bought a guy a drink out of the blue, that was it, no promises made, expectations set low, low, low in case he was hit with a rejection. Lucky for him, despite being, like, otherworldly beautiful, Brendon was probably the friendliest, most charming person Ryan had met in a long time. Usually if you had one of those blessings you were running low on the other, but nope; Brendon could both be stunning and the exact opposite of an asshole to Ryan.

As a matter of fact, because he had no filter, Ryan was pretty close to addressing how perfect he was out loud. It was definitely weird, sure, but when it was a compliment, who cared? The stakes were high here, though, because even if they didn't somehow settle on going to one or the other's place tonight (not likely - seemed like neither of them were the type to do that), Ryan wanted to keep contact somehow. Didn't matter how they were involved. Hell, if they were just friends, he was fine with it; whatever the case may be, Brendon still eased the weight off his shoulders and made his mind slow and narrow down, was such a bizarrely calming presence that Ryan knew he'd misse him when he was gone. And maybe that was the first impression talking, blowing everything out of proportion, but... he didn't think so. Brendon didn't seem to totally hate him, thankfully enough. After all, he wouldn't have cared so much about Ryan's reaction to his little slip-up if he hadn't already invested something in this, too. His embarrassment was adorable, but really, Ryan appreciated the honesty.

[i]Are we?[/i] Ryan studied him for a second, wondering why he looked like he was very subtly freaking out. Well- Ryan was used to people looking like that around him, but the effect had been splotchy on Brendon up until now, who seemed pretty tame about the circumstances. He supposed maybe he'd been too forward. Whatever- as long as everything was out in the open, on the table and plain to see. As for 'were they,' Ryan hesitated; was clarifying out of the question? He could go the overly confident route and claim, without knowing, that Brendon really was with the same mindset as him, and that could be potentially mortifying. Because what Brendon most likely [i]didn't[/i] know was that Ryan was already sort of daydreaming about kissing him, the best way to naturally go about it here, how he'd fit him into his everyday life once they were both out of here, how he imagined that everyday life to be. All right, all of that considered, maybe they weren't one hundred percent on the same page because Ryan was a theatrical motherfucker, but still, the future looked bright. [b]"'kay, I might be a few chapters ahead, but that's just 'cause I like you."[/b] Ryan smiled easily when he took his hand away, figuring fuck it if that was too forward, at least it was out there. 

The 'blank canvas' image he presented was one hundred percent from this life, again - he [i]had[/i] to grow up fast to cope with the very quickly changing world around him, but it was hard to know how to look. In the beginning it worked that he looked so youthful (was so youthful), because that was his fanbase anyway. One fault with his career, though, was that people grew up and moved on with their lives, but he had to maintain a certain image and appeal to ensure his music wasn't so radically different that it became hard to follow. That became what he knew, staying the same, and it translated to his real life outside of professional as well - he dressed the same as he did in high school, basically, except a) now he could afford the stuff he looked on at with admiration in shops as a teenager and b) he wasn't 'emo' anymore. So there were less bulk packs of plain V-necks and more vintage, thrifted or thrifted-looking things. And because there'd never been any indication that he had to or any push from his producer to look different or age himself, he never really did; just kept clean-shaven and long-haired and forever young.

So he had to fix that. What a perfect opportunity. [i]It’d take more than me, darlin’, I’m sorry to say.[/i] Ryan relaxed if only to regard him more fondly, a tiny amused smile playing on his lips. He had no idea how serious Ryan was, clearly. And here Ryan sat, totally thinking about setting him up with a team for him to boss around, supplying him with everything he needed, taking him around the world with him free of charge... obviously Ryan knew little about him, but a gut feeling told him he just deserved it, that he needed this - and if not this specifically, then it was a step closer to whatever was better. When Ryan just lightly grazed Brendon's chin he lifted it promptly, obedient, and Ryan was almost impressed before being distracted by the brush of his fingers over his knee. It would be so damn easy to just, like, hold his hand. Ryan distantly wished he knew how to read palms or how to pretend to just to get away with that. [i]I’ll style it for you initially, I don’t think you’re too helpless to style your own hair every morning.[/i] Despite him looking down Ryan kept searching for his gaze, smiling without realizing it. Brendon already knew him too well. [i]Takes five minutes, tops. Maybe.[/i] 

Though Brendon thought himself the impulsive one, Ryan was definitely coming for his branding, because in the next moment he was letting his hand drop from Brendon's jaw to cover the one Brendon held over his knee. Probably too comfortably for how long they'd known each other, Ryan gently took hold for a few moments, running his thumb over the back of Brendon's hand at a serene pace while he shrugged and continued on. [b]"If that's what it takes to keep you around..."[/b] Ryan laughed, short and soft, mostly to punctuate than anything else, then released Brendon's hand to go back to holding his whiskey. He drank momentarily, considering, before looking carefully back at Brendon, his expression thoughtful. [b]"This is weird, but I feel like I've known you forever. Really."[/b] He stared into his drink for a few seconds before glancing back up. [b]"You know, I was serious about all of that. Most musicians have stylists or makeup artists following them on tour if they aren't hiring locally at every stop. I'm just saying, whatever you make now, I'd double it. At least."[/b]