Ryan was, unsurprisingly, the most impatient of all of them, although he wasn’t rude about it (his asshole side really only came out around his bandmates - the crew didn’t deserve him having a tantrum after a show), so he often disappeared first to their tour bus. He would help put some equipment back in the van trailing their bus, he’d thank people and shake hands and if there was anyone waiting at the barrier outside for the band, he would take as much time as it took to talk to everyone. But that didn’t mean he outlasted Spencer, Jon, and Brendon on the kindness front. Spencer usually came up right after him, Jon a few stretched moments later, and because Brendon was basically a saint if you asked anyone not in the band, he was last. He had the most battery of all of them, first of all, always charged up; second of all, he was genuinely too kind to say goodbye until he’d spoken with everyone. Much to their security’s disapproval - they barely got to do this anymore, not when they were at bigger shows.

But that was a [i]would,[/i] and they were headlining, so they didn’t get to meet anyone. Some nights it came as sort of a relief even if they felt bad for whoever’d waited a long time - they were just exhausted, needed the break as soon as possible after a show. Nevertheless they still came in their usual formation, Ryan watching as Spencer and Jon immediately went to their kitchenette and looked for what was best to pregame with. Obviously. He looked on for a count of three seconds before losing interest and curling into his bunk, ducking until he could sit cross-legged facing inwardly, digging through the collection of belongings he hoarded at the end of his bed (swear to God, he nearly fell out of it constantly). He landed on a Palahniuk, already read but a classic regardless, then folded in on himself until he could turn again. At such a ridiculously lanky build, he had to lie awkwardly, legs crowding the aisle, back mostly across the width of his bed, pillow beneath his head against the wall.

He was reclusive, sure, but not this unaware of his surroundings all the time, completely ignoring his bandmates then taking up so much of their limited space. But. He was getting sick of the stage act, not being able to snap and scare Brendon off when he was too close and too vocal, but it’s not like he could do that offstage anyway. The closest he could get to ‘scaring Brendon off’ was being just aggressive enough to make Brendon impatient, too, and then both of them were too tired of it all to pick a real fight. On stage he sucked it up, maybe played along a little, though that was a more recent development for them - he’d lean towards Brendon invitingly, or actually look at him longingly rather than avoiding eye contact altogether, walk to him crowd his space before Brendon could crowd Ryan’s. Then, that was a rare occasion, or he would only follow through on one of those options. He just didn’t have the patience.

Not that the act itself was what pissed Ryan off, but the fact that it was [i]Brendon[/i], who he had such a complicated relationship with behind the scenes. Yeah, they hated each other beyond belief, had no trouble reminding each other all the time. On the other hand, they did, in fact, participate in their own version of the vicious fucking Brendon talked about every night. Two polarities, except maybe not, because the opposite of hating one another was inaccurate, too. When Brendon put on so much dramatics that his closeness alone affected Ryan, that was a problem. When they’d been together fairly recently and thus the memory was fresh, Ryan had trouble focusing on the music itself, and he hated that Brendon could do anything to knock him off track. He suspected it might be a silent competition between them, seeing if Ryan would break each night, but that was slightly paranoid. Maybe.

So, Brendon was posing a problem for him already, nothing new.  

Ryan heard his voice stream in and only lost focus intermittently, catching a few words here and there. [i]...getting too old for going out after shows, man.[/i] Later, following Spencer commentary, some quip about physically being fifty. Ryan begged to differ, from personal experience. Either way it sounded like the conversation was over and Ryan carefully kept his attention on his book, pulling his feet in absently as Brendon entered the bunk space, pointedly ignoring him. Again, stage act. He had experience nudging Brendon’s presence aside - most of the time. Annoyingly, Brendon was apparently good at doing the exact same, because he hardly spared a glance at Ryan. Ryan readjusted naturally, uncomfortable with being invisible for once, sitting a little more upright and diagonally until he was dug deeper into his bunk. He chanced a glance up, once, fast as hell, greeted by the image of Brendon’s shirt coming off, torso bared. Alright. So what.

A few moments later, after plainly ignoring the words in front of him and listening instead to the sound of Brendon shuffling around, he chanced a glance up, once. Alright, the jeans were going, too. He looked back down before that processed and he blinked at the empty words, actually annoyed again, for who knew what reason. Maybe the fact that whatever Brendon was up to, because he was always up to something, was working. When he cast his embarrassing third glance up, Brendon was stretching, lithe and lean as ever, and Ryan hated his guts. So much so he dropped his book on his chest, still open, when Brendon turned away to pull the jeans down, the V Ryan was so hooked on exposed, everything he dumbly stared at when no one was looking. On the way down, the denim didn’t go easily, and Ryan seriously, cross his heart, [i]hated[/i] this idiot.

Brendon caught his gaze, finally, and Ryan held it for that half second, pissed, but Brendon wasn’t even looking [i]at[/i] him. He’d just happened upon his eyeline, apparently. God, he needed so much fucking [i]attention,[/i] and Ryan pushed his book aside to duck out of his bunk, because he wouldn’t give Brendon what he wanted even on his deathbed. So he walked out, dropping with an angry air onto a seat in the lounge, trying to expel the energy before he somehow exposed their weird situation.

[i]You coming with us, Ry?[/i] Ryan snapped out of it, looking at Spencer carefully and shaking his head simply, suspecting he’d sound too obvious if he spoke already. Jon chimed in; [i]I guess it’s just us then, Spence.[/i] Yeah, get the hell out already, Ryan needed to yell at Brendon uninterrupted, thanks. The man of the hour appeared right after, looking normal as ever still, and Ryan twitched, noting that that asshole had decided on what his nightly drama was going to be. He tried again to speak, just to show how balanced his voice was, or how balanced he could make it be, anyway. [i]Yeah, I’m, uh. Tired.[/i] Alright, dumb move on his part. He pointedly glared at Brendon, but the fucker was still not looking his way. [i]Don’t be back too late, I gotta get my beauty sleep and don’t need you, like, accidentally getting into my bunk with me at 2am.[/i] God, he was such a fucking princess, and. His dumb plan was working. Ryan was beyond annoyed, and every tiny thing made it worse, like he was [i]looking[/i] for offenses. Ryan stared at him, pointed.

[i]Gross,[/i] was Spencer’s response, at the exact same time Jon started on [i]are you hinting at something? I’m not interested.[/i] They were already finishing their drinks and shrugging jackets back on, clearly disengaged. [i]Alright, we’ll start early, then. See ya,[/i] was Spencer’s half-hearted farewell, evidently pleasantly warmed up from pregaming already. Jon was already down the steps when he distantly called his: [i]Don’t kill each other![/i], and the door slammed behind him. 

Ryan immediately untensed, relieved to finally talk shit out loud. [b]”I’m killing you first, you little fucker,”[/b] he said immediately, and Jon would definitely be disappointed. [b]”What the fuck are you up to? Looking for [i]attention[/i] tonight?”[/B] He was [i]not[/i] going to admit that it was working. Ryan rose up as he spoke, facing Brendon directly, needing the height advantage at least.