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His breath blew against the window pane, momentarily obscuring the rapidly moving scenery on the outside of the train. With the sleeve of his sweater he slowly wiped it away, once again revealing the myriad of golds, reds and greens much more different than what he'd been accustomed since birth. Evergreens and maples were still a wonderful fantasy, having been surrounded by stoic palms from the beginning of memory.
“Ryan, can you please close the curtain? I'm trying to sleep,” he heard his friend mumble from across the narrow space between their seats.
He pretended to ignore the protest, ignore the way his own weary body ached for sleep, still out of beat from the time change, the weather change, their change of pace. If their lives were a song, the time signature had changed, and while Ryan was still struggling to keep up, he was more obstinate than ever not to miss a single note. His gaze refocused over the window, zeroing in on his own reflection rather than the landscape outside. The dark circles under his eyes from staying up late every night to share his music with hundreds others singing it back to him at the top of their lungs brought a smile to his lips rather than a yawn. The sallow complexion of his skin he could stand to abandon, but from driving every day from one venue to the next, to energy draining shows every night, there wasn't much time or money to take better care of superficial things like getting enough sunlight and vitamins. He still wouldn't change a thing about their current situation if the opportunity presented itself.
A hand reached in front of him and yanked the curtain closed, submerging their little compartment in darkness. “You may be Captain Insomnia, but I need my beauty sleep.”
Ryan looked at the boy in front of him. “How can you even sleep right now, Brendon?”
“Because, I don't know about you, but I'm a normal human who requires at least 5 hours of sleep before sweating of a stage for a set every night,” the other boy mumbled, squirming in his seat to find a comfortable position with his forehead leaning against the cool windowpane.
“Have you even looked at the trees?” Ryan tried again.
“There are trees in Vegas, Ross. You'd know that if you went outside once in a while.”
“Not like this,” Ryan mumbled and opened the curtain, bathing the two with golden light. “Vegas is dry, dusty, and hot. Look at that,” he pressed his finger against the top of the glass where a line of snow-dotted mountains could be seen in the corresponding distance.
Brendon turned his bleary-eyes attention to where the older boy directed with a sigh. Dying plant material and frozen water on rocks. Pretty sure I can come up with a better image in my mind if you'd just let me sleep,” he shut his eyes once more.
“Such a romantic. No wonder I'm the one who writes our lyrics,” Ryan rolled his eyes in a good nature and turned his attention back to their small visual or the outside world.
“What's so good about that anyway?” Brendon asked with a heavy sigh, reluctantly acknowledging no rest was to be had in the near future.
“You can only experience things for the first time once. Especially nature. By the time we finish the tour and go back home, even if we pass through this exact same spot at this exact same time, everything will be different. It only lasts for a breath while you're looking at it and then it's gone. Replaced by something different and equally as ethereal as what was before.” Ryan's eyes took on a dazed expression as he talked, almost like he was put into a trance the longer he looked.
Brendon ran the words through his mind, sneaking a glance to the bewitching scene and comprehending Ryan's intent. Understanding, but not enough to push himself to care. He sighed once more, turning completely so his back was pushed agains the windowpane and shut his eyes.
“You can tell me about it when I wake up then,” Brendon whispered.
Ryan shook his head softly, with a tiny playful smile and turned all of his attention back to the outside world. Studying it so intently and trying to commit every single last detail to memory so he could retell it almost as well later.