Brendon toured so much now that Ryan couldn’t come with him everywhere all the time, which was unfortunate for them, but it only meant Brendon was wildly successful as he should be, so Ryan wasn’t too hurt by it. Well - yes, it fucking sucked all the time and he always wished Brendon were around, but the fact that he was doing what he loved and so many people loved him right back, yeah, that was cool. But Ryan was nothing if not ambitious, so when he got the opportunity (and the ‘yeah fine whatever’ from Brendon’s security), he always flew out to meet Brendon on tour. These times were few and far between, and every time, he conveniently forgot to warn Brendon about it. The face he made when he saw Ryan standing sidestage, endlessly proud of him, so unexpected, that never got old. 

Something different always happened, because Brendon liked to surprise him right back, and one night in particular Brendon pulled him on stage with pride flags thrown over his shoulders or just barely hooked on one or caped over his back - he got an insane amount, too many to fit on him. He sang the crowd-coined anthem’s chorus to Ryan, a colorful arm around his shoulders like a protective wing, and Ryan couldn’t do anything but stand there and be in love like an idiot, probably with hearts floating over his head or some stupid thing like that - it felt like it anyway. It was a dream. Here he was, in front of thousands, all singing word-for-word along with Brendon, the man he loved, who worked so hard for this, who was so fucking magical and inviting him in on that magic. Ryan was unbelievably lucky.

Except they were sort of in trouble for all that. The day after, Zack approached him and let him know that, yeah, he was being more distracting than usual, and yeah, he had to get out tonight. Maybe a kiss good luck and all, but nothing more. So Ryan, naturally, snuck into Brendon’s dressing room, tried to break those rules by initiating [i]anything[/i] more, got caught, and was promptly kicked out. Well. He could watch via some random fans’ Instagrams, then, fine. He managed to fit in a strong four kisses and a rushed ‘okayhaveagoodnightIloveyou’ before Zack was actually physically removing him from the premises... and Brendon had only been gone for a week or so beforehand. This was going to be a long first leg. 

Ryan’s choice of what to waste his time with was, uncharacteristically, to go out and drink. He wasn’t opposed to it, he just didn’t do it often, especially not without Brendon. Regardless, he headed out after moping around for a minute about being kicked out, taking a cab off to “whichever bar’s nearest” and landing at a fairly midscale one a few blocks away. You’d think he’d be bored. Ryan, however, the lightest of weights, had two shots and was suddenly very entertained by the game on the TV, turned fully in his seat while he kept the shots coming and nursed a few beers between them. An hour into this, he was a far cry from the picture of stressed blue-collar workers sitting at the bar and in booths throughout - he was actually completely relaxed against the wall to his right, eyes on the television across the room, and looked entirely content with the situation he’d found himself in.

Three notifications sounded at once from his phone and he took a whole two minutes to dig his phone from his pocket and drop it onto the bar, lean over it, and squint to read the messages. From Zack: [i]Okay, show’s ending.[/i] Fifteen minutes ago, just delivered. [i]Where are you?[/i] Ten minutes ago... and then a missed call. Ryan stared for a second then tried to press on the missed call and unlock his phone, to no avail. When it proved too difficult a feat, he huffed helplessly, sitting back against the wall again and waiting for the next call that arrived three minutes later. [b]”Hm,”[/b] he mumbled in his effort to say hello, and Zack immediately replied. [i]”Are you drunk?”[/i] Ryan paused, actually thought about it. [b]”Not the drunkest I’ve ever been.”[/b] There was a long pause while Zack processed this absolutely useless information. [i]”...okay. Where are you?”[/i] Ryan sucked in a heavy, labored breath, and then leaned over the bar, stretching his arm over to get the bartender’s attention. [b]”Hey, where am I?”[/b] 

A moment after speaking to the very unimpressed bartender and passing on this newfound information, Zack hung up without another word, and Ryan received a text from him ten minutes later stating simply ‘come outside.’ So, he did. Zack was ready to catch him right out the door and lead him to a very familiar looking black car, guiding him into the backseat and shutting the door for him before heading back to the passenger’s seat. Ryan had his eyes closed pretty much the entire time. As soon as the door shut he started leaning into it, not bothering with his seatbelt, pressing his face against the cold window. [b]”Where are we going? I’m going to sleep,”[/b] he murmured, quickly losing interest in the answer to his question and snuggling up against the door.