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I never would have guessed that when I was eighteen, I'd be homeless. I'm pretty sure no one actually does, but still, I would have guessed I'd be in college, or I'd at least have some shitty job for minimum wage. It obviously didn't turn out that way.
To be homeless, usually it involves something going wrong. That's what I've learned from anyone else I've met. All the money was spent on drugs, they got unemployed, someone died, or any other thing. For me, I made the mistake of telling my parents the truth. I've also learned that honesty is not the best policy.
To make a long story short, I told the truth, I get kicked out of the house. After that, I tried to stay with other members of my family, but they cut me off along with my parents. I had no friends to turn to, because after yet another mistake I had made, none of my friends liked me anymore. They were assholes anyways.
So that's how I ended up in the homeless shelter. Truthfully, I was lucky I made it there so fast. A lot of homeless stay on the streets, sleeping in awful places and rarely showering. That's not how it is at the shelter, it's actually nice, as far as it goes when you're homeless. They make everyone who stays there shower everyday, and we get fed everyday. They actually try to help us get better, which is great. But I can't quite get there. Because no matter how much the shelter people care, to become not homeless, you need a job. Jobs are really hard to find when you're homeless, especially good ones. It's kind of an endless cycle.
My latest interview was at a grocery store. It made me laugh, because just three years ago, I made a vow to never work at a grocery store. I hate them more than anything, and I had thought I'd never have to sink that low. Too bad things change.
I gathered up the nicest clothes I could find the morning of my interview. They were some of the clothes my mother has gotten me for church. I kind of found it entertaining, it's amazing what it took now. I thought I looked very nice in the clothes, as I looked at myself in the somewhat dirty mirrors in the shelter bathrooms. I could so get that job.
Five hours later I was sitting on a bench, still jobless. The problem was that they always asked about my home life, and of course, they didn't like the answer. Even my line about how if they hired me, I wouldn't be homeless didn't work. It never has before, but I thought someone might buy it. No such luck for me.
One of the worst parts about not getting a job was going back to the shelter and seeing how disappointed everyone was. Since I'm the youngest person in the shelter, who isn't in the mother children section, of course, they all kind of baby me. They have hope that my life will turn out better than theirs. So whenever I come back and have yet again fucked up another job interview, everyone else seems even more disappointed than I am. The worst is Sam. She's in the mother and children section, with her baby boy, Harley. She acts like my mother most of the time, and whenever ever I say anything, she says, "Well, your own mother obviously wasn't doing her job, so I guess I have to. You're a bright boy, Brendon, you can get out of here, soon, and you can live your life like a normal person. You'll own your very own house, a nice big one, I can see it. And when you do, you'll think back to me and say 'hmm, I guess Sam was right all along.'"
She expects more from me than anyone, and truthfully she motivates me more than anything else. I will live up to all her hopes of me.
I check my watch, the cheapest one I could fins at Wal-Mart, which is truly a great place, I hadn't realized before, and I realized it was about time for lunch. For lunch we had to go to a food kitchen, because the shelter doesn't serve lunch. I had learned fast that in order to get the best food you had to get there early. And I was on the verge of not being early. I gathered my backpack, and hurried to the nearest kitchen. I have definitely learned a lot more about this city since I've been homeless, I could practically map out the entire city by now. As I was thinking this I passes a previously empty shop area. It wasn't anymore.
This confused me, because I was sure when I passes it just last week it had been empty. Now there were tables, lights, and I was pretty sure the walls had even been painted. And, the best was, that there was a Help Wanted sign in the window. I felt like it was meant to be. I wouldn't normally be in the part of town for another couple of weeks if I hadn't had that job interview, and by then all the jobs would have probably been filled. I couldn't believe my luck, even though there was no knowing if I'd even get an interview for the job. I didn't care, though, because I was hopeful. I wrote down the number on the sign and smiled as I did so.
Later, when I called the number, I got an interview date and time within just a few minutes. It made coming back to the shelter better, because I already had another chance.
As I got there, the first thing I did was look for Sam. It wasn't dinner time yet, and I knew Sam had probably taken Harley outside to play with the other kids.
"Sam, I called out when I saw her. She looked up at me and smiled, probably guessing I had a job by the excitement in my voice. That made me feel like shit for a moment, but I quickly got over it. "Okay, no, I didn't get the job, don't ask. But I do have another interview already! And I think this one will work out, I'm sure it will!"
Sam laughed at me, and shook her head, causing her chin length hair to fall out from behind her ears. "Well, you better get this next job, ya hear? I'm sick of seeing your face here."
I laughed, sitting down beside her. I was struck by how much older than me she looked. She was only ten years older, but she looked at least twenty years older. I did still look young for my age, with a teenage haircut and thin, tiny body. But the many mistakes that Sam had made when she was my age has caused her to look much older than she actually was. She had straightened out when Harley was born, but there was still too much evidence of her past in her looks.
I continue to chat with Sam, and play a game of peekaboo with Harley until it's dinner time. I have to leave her then, going to the men's area. There, I was asked way too many times how my interview had gone. They were less disappointed when they found out I had another interview, but they weren't completely pleased.
The rest of the night passed the same as any other, dinner, showers, picking out our clothes, and all of those fun activities. I was on my way to my bunk, which I was so lucky to have gotten, it was so much better than a mat on the floor, when Officer Wentz pulled me aside. We don't actually call him that, usually we just call him Pete. Pete's the cop the takes care of all the homeless problems in the city. The other cops constantly make fun of him for that, but he doesn't care much. He really cares for homeless people, at least the ones who care about themselves, because his boyfriend Patrick was one of us a couple years ago. He had gotten back on his feet before he had even met Pete, but he made sure to help out the homeless in anyway he could, which eventually he passed on to Pete.
"Brendon, I heard you didn't get the job today. Dude, come on, you need to step it up." Pete scolded. He could sometimes come off as an asshole, especially when you're new, but he actually only wants the best for all of us.
"But did you hear I also have an interview? It's on Wednesday, and I've got a really good feeling about this," I insisted. I had said this so many times tonight, I had almost had a practiced speech.
"You better get this one. I had even gotten Patrick all excited for that interview today, I hate disappointing him," Pete sighed, running a hand through her dark hair.
"Don't worry, I'll get this next one, and soon I'll have my own house!"
He smiled, probably finding me amusing. Most people did, I wasn't ever sure how to feel about that. I mostly hoped it would help me charm my way into a job. It hadn't worked yet, but I still had hope. Pete sent me off to bed after making me promise to get myself a job by this time next week.
That night I had dreams about new sheets and fancy pillows. Also, there was a warm body pressed against me. Relationships at the shelter weren't allowed, unless you were married before and all that. It was hard to be a teenage boy with way to many hormones and no one to share them with. Yet another reason why I had to get out of this shelter.
On Wednesday morning, I found myself putting on my fancy clothes again. I even spent time fixing my hair to look nice. I used to spend so much time working on my hair. It's amusing to think about who I used to be. Even though I was in a crappy situation now, I was a much better person. Before, I was an asshole, plain and simple. getting everything I had taken away from me had really put things in perspective. I knew I would never be the same. I was a completely changed person, and it was okay. Change is a funny thing, it could be horrible and wonderful at the same time.
At breakfast everyone was wishing me good luck, patting me on the back and wishing me good luck. I could feel the pressure that was on my today. Everyone wanted me to get this job, and I was actually nervous. I had to try my hardest, do whatever I could. Today was my future.
The walk to the building was long and hazy. I finally stumbled in front of it five minutes before my interview. Even more work had been done the past couple of days. There was even a fancy sign that said 'Day Met the Night'. It sounded like a fancy restaurant name, at least if you ask me.
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Inside looked even better than I'd thought it had, it was just so pretty. The walls were painted a happy golden color that made the whole room happy and calm. Whoever had picked everything out obviously knew what they were doing.
I couldn't find anyone in the shop though, so I called out, "Hello? Is anyone here? I'm here for an interview."
I heard a clang and then a boy with light brown hair came from a separate room. He had blue eyes and a... Very bitchy look on his face. I was scared that I had done something wrong. Did I get the time wrong? Did I go to the wrong restaurant? I thought of everything I could've done wrong for a couple of seconds before I forced myself to calm down. I needed to pull this off, and being a spaz won't help me with that.
"Is something wrong?" I finally ask the boy. He was a boy too, he could only be a little older than me.
He shook his head. "No, just Ryan's a dumbass and probably lost track of time. He gets his head so wrapped around planning stuff that he just loses all connection to the world. I'll go get him, just sit down wherever," The boy starts to walk towards a set of stairs in the back of the restaurant. He stops and turns around, "I'm Spencer, the chef, by the way. I'll probably see you around, unless you totally fuck up this interview. Ryan's desperate for more employees."
He leaves then, and I sit down at a table near where I was standing. I noticed every table had some sort of decoration in the center. This one had a little sun figure. I spent a few minutes looking around the restaurant before I hear footsteps on the stares. Spencer goes straight to the room he had originally came from, what I'm guessing is the kitchen. There's another boy that walks over to me. He's tall and thin, thinner than I even am, and a couple years older. He had brown hair that was neatly styled and very pretty eyes. Who was he? he couldn't be the owner of the restaurant, could he? He looked maybe twenty, was it even possible to own a business that young? Heck if I knew, I couldn't even own a goldfish.
"I'm Ryan Ross," He said smiling. Hm, guess he is the owner. He obviously made some very different life decisions than I did. "I own this restaurant. And you're, um, Brendan Urie, right?"
I slightly cringe at the name. He was close at least. "Um, Brendon, but yeah, that's me."
"Okay, cool. So what kind of job are you looking for?"
"One that pays," I reply immediately. Then I realized it was not the right thing to say. I've been coached through interviews by so many people, and that was never an acceptable thing to say. Oh, crap, why do I do crap like this?
He laughs though, and responded, "I'd assume so. I was meaning more of a position."
"Oh, um, yeah, I totally knew that. I'll do anything. whatever you have available, I can do." I was probably being so freaky because he was a cute guy, That’s always one of my weaknesses.
He looked as though he was considering something for a moment before saying, "I'm just going to tell you the truth. I'm kind of desperate here, and you are the only person who has applied. So you pretty much have the job. I don't really know how to do this whole interview thing. I figure I'll just let you work for a couple days on a trial basis and hope you do good. Could you be a waiter, and kind of just work up here, ding whatever needs done?"
I nod quickly, excitement building up. "Yes, I can do anything. And I'll do it better than anyone else you could hire, I promise." The homeless thing hasn't even come up in this. He might not have to know. I might be able to just be a normal employee. I might get to be an employee!
"That's great, you have no idea how big of a help you'll be. You good with people aren't you?"
I nod again. "People usually like me, I'm easy to talk to, or so I've been told."
He smiled, "Awesome. So we just have some boring stuff to talk over, then we you can start when we open. Which is Friday. Is that too early?"
Ryan seems just as nervous about all this as I do. He has no idea that I need this just more than anything, I would never have a problem with it. "Nope, not at all. I've got nothing planned."
After that he talked about benefits, hours, and my pay. With everything he said I got more excited. I had a job. I had a job with a super cute manager, who was probably straight, and I couldn't date anyone now anyways. The longer we talked things over, the more energy was gathering inside me, and at one point I was practically bouncing.
As I left I called out, "Bye, Mr. Ross! I'll see you on Friday! Don't worry, I'll blow your mind with my amazing working skills!"
I could see him laughing as I left the shop. I waited until I was at least around the corner to jump up in the air and yell, "YES!"
I got a lot of weird looks from that, but I didn't care. I ran all the way back to the shelter. This was the beginning to my come back, I could feel it.
Or maybe not. After spending the rest of the day researching how much living somewhere would cost, I realized I could never afford it, not until I had saved up, for awhile.
"Shit," I said as I lay down on my bunk shortly after dinner. I would have to stay here for months, if not years. I had always seen the shelter as a very temporary thing, but it turns out it's not as easy as I had assumed it was. Of course not, nothing is fucking easy in real life.
It sucked how we spent our entire childhood preparing to be adults, but they never really teach you what it's like. No one says what happens if things don't work out, if you can get a freaking fancy scholarship to an amazing college and get a wonderful job. No one says anything about it.
As I'm hating my entire useless childhood, someone sat down on my bunk. After a few minutes of blatantly ignoring whoever it was, I look up, with a nasty 'what?' ready on my tongue when I see it's Pete. I guess I can't be completely rude to a cop.
"Yes, Pete?" I say instead. Sarcasm is nothing to Pete, I've learned that.
"What's wrong, little B-den? You finally have a job! You're entire life it lining up for the better, man!"
"But it isn't! I'm supposed to be in college now! In ten fucking years I'm supposed to a filthy rich doctor with an amazing house and some fucking trophy wife! You know where I'll be in ten years? In a shitty little apartment, working two jobs just to keep that! And I won't have a freaking wife, because I have to be gay! Goddammit, maybe if I wasn't gay my parents wouldn't have kicked me out! I'd be living life like I should! But no! Not only am I super gay, I decided to tell my parents. Now my whole fucking life is shit, and will always be shit, and there's really nothing I can do!" I barked at Pete, suddenly letting all my anger out.
I didn't mean to say what I did, but I did mean it. I meant every word.
Pete suddenly grabbed my shoulders, and made me look him straight in the eyes. "Listen here, Brendon. You are a great kid, one of the best I've ever met. Just because you had shitty parents who made you think there was something wrong with you doesn't mean there is. You have tons of potential, and I'm not going to let you waste it. Yes, it might take awhile to get your grounding, but that doesn't mean it won't happen. You need to just keep doing your best at everything, and I promise things will be better."
Pete was one of the last people I had expected to hear an inspirational speech from. He seemed like more of the uncle who gives you beer when you're twelve, not the wise grandfather. It was a pleasant surprise, actually.
"And Brendon?" Pete continued. "Don't worry about being gay. Dick's way better in the long run."
And there's the crazy uncle part I was waiting for. I blushed and said, "Thanks, Pete."
"No problem, buddy. Just remember I'm always here for you." He smiled and left. Even with his comment about dick, okay, especially with his comment about dick, I felt a lot better. Things will probably suck for awhile, but when it's done sucking, it'll be worth it.
On Friday morning, I was getting dressed yet again. This time was different, though, because it actually wasn't an interview. And I had to find nice looking clothes that weren't my church clothes, since I had worn them just two days ago. There were always clothes at the shelter, but when you're broke and homeless, you care way more about warmth than appearance. The hunt for clothes that make me look nice and put on a good impression was a long, tedious one. I even had Gerard help me look for something.
Gerrard was an interesting person. He had been at the shelter a little longer than I had, but he didn't have to be there. He had a little brother, Mikey, who came by every week and offered to let Gerard stay with him. Every week, though, Gerard refused. He said he wanted to recover on his own. I could kind of see his point of view, but I know if I had some family member that didn't hate me, and they offered to help me out, I would say yes in a heartbeat. But then I am a formerly spoiled teenager, so I guess that made sense.
Anyways, Gerard was actually a great help. He knew all the clothes in the shelter like the back of his hand. He could be dressed like a rock star everyday if he wanted to, but he choose the traditional homeless look instead. Like I said before, I didn't understand Gerard.
That day I had a nice black button down shirt, and black dress pants to go with it. I even borrowed a hair straighter from Pete. It turns out that he's very careful about his looks, and he has no problem assisting us with ours. Have I mentioned all the other cops make fun of him? Because they do, a lot.
As I walked to Ryan's restaurant that day, I felt excitement in place of Wednesday's nervousness, and it was a much better feeling. I felt unstoppable. I had a job, and I was going to eventually get paid for it. And I had a cute boss, but I really should forget about that, as soon as possible, actually.
The restaurant wasn't open yet, I had to arrive an hour before opening, but it looked like a real restaurant. I was amazed someone as young as Ryan could have done all this, I knew I sure as hell couldn't.
I realized then that I didn't know anything about my boss, that I knew as much about him as he did me. And I was a homeless kid. Who knew what he could be?
"Hey, dude, told you I'd see you again," Spencer, the chef, calls out as I enter the restaurant. He's sitting at one of the tables with another guy. The other guy had dark brown hair and a beard, and looked like an overall nice guy. I instantly liked him. Spencer gestured to him and said, "And this is Jon. He's going to be helping me out in the kitchen."
"Hi, I'm Brendon." I said to Jon. He nodded and waved me over to sit with them.
"What do you know about video games, man? Spencer and I were just having a very heated debate, and I need someone to back me up," Jon declared. Luckily for me, I knew a lot about video games. At least ones from before the incident, because of course, as a teenage boy, I spent 90 percent of my time playing them.
A half an hour later, I knew both Jon and Spencer's views on most of the major videogames, and that they and Ryan had been friends for ever. Like, I knew you when you were in a diaper type friends. The type of friends I knew literally nothing about. They were cool guys, I was excited about working with them.
"Oh shit, shouldn't I be working or something? Isn't that what I'm here for?" I realized after way too long. I was doing a good job towards getting fired, before I even started working.
Jon laughed, "No man, don't worry about that. The only reason why you had to come in so early is because Ryan is absolutely freaking out. He's nervous. Like, right now he's in the kitchen, recounting everything to make sure we have enough. For the third time."
Spencer added, "It's best to just let him worry today, he'll probably be okay later. For now you can just hang with us until opening. I assume you can figure out how to ask people what they want to eat, then tell us."
"Okay, cool, I can totally do that," I said just as the door to the kitchen swung open.
Ryan came running out, his hair a mess and his shirt buttoned up wrong. "Spencer, Spencer, I can't find the salt, where's the salt?"
"Ryan, calm down, dude. Jon and I put them all on the tables yesterday. Everything's fine, just stop freaking out. And hey, your new employees here, nice of you to great him," Spencer said with a sarcastic edge. I already liked his sass.
Ryan looked to me and said, "Oh, yeah, sorry, I lost track of time."
"Don't worry, dude, Spencer and I were putting him to good use. He's on my side, by the way. Now when we get in debates, you and Spencer can't gang up on me, the sides are even now," Jon went off, telling some story about a time when they were younger.
Ryan sat beside me at some point during the story and whispered, "Jon might say that Spencer and I gang up against him, but I really think it's him and Spencer against me. They've been dating since Spencer's freshman year, and they seem to think the same thoughts sometimes," Ryan pauses, and then said hesitantly, "You don't, um, mind, do you? Because that might making working a little awkward."
I almost laughed at that, considering I was the last person who would have a problem with them being gay. I didn't want to be too obvious, though, because if Ryan knew I thought he was hot, well,, that'd make working even more awkward. "Not at all. Actually, some of my best friends are together, Pete and Patrick."
It was going a little fall to call Pete and Patrick my best friends, since we're not really friends, at all, Pete's just the cop the has to watch over me. I guess we might be friends if I weren't homeless. I'll have to see when I get back on my feet. But still, I figured it was a nice way to seem okay with homosexuality without giving away my own sexuality.
"That's good. that's actually really good. Because they don't like to have to hide their relationship, you know? After being together for so long, it's just natural for them. And I really can't stand homophobes, so yeah, I think this whole job thing will work out well. I got lucky, I really don't know what I'm doing half of the time with all this. But don't feel like I won't be a good boss! I won't forget to pay you or anything, oh man, you're going to quit and then I'll be screwed," Ryan proclaimed, putting his head in his hands, giving me a good view of his hair. It was lighter than mine, but darker than Spencer's, and it fell in pretty waves/curls, around his face. Even a few years ago when I was clinging to being straight with all my life, I had a thing for dark, wavy haired guys. Really, Ryan was my dream guy, which was awkward considering he's my boss, and probably straight. I really had no idea what he was.
"No, you're good dude. I'll let you in on a secret, I want this job more than anything. There's almost no way I'd quit. You're kind of stuck with me," I revealed. Ran looked up and smiled at me. His smile was amazing, it lit up his whole face.
"I know you're enjoying your conversation, but we've got a business to run! Starting in ten minutes," Spencer called out to us then. We scrambled around, getting everything tidy, Ryan giving out last minute instructions to me. I was nervous, especially since I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but they day passed relatively well.
Sure, there were a few mishaps, like the time where I got two tables orders completely backwards. The people ere kind when I explained how it was my first day and how I was new to all of it, so I got off lucky. No one even had to complain to my manager about me, which I was sure would happen at least five times. I had even gotten a good amount of tips, or at least enough for me to buy myself an actual dinner, which was more money than I've had for months, so I counted it as a good day.
After the place was completely closed up, we all sat at a table, sharing our interesting stories of the day. Spencer had caught his sleeve on fire for just a little bit during the lunchtime rush, and Jon had gotten a minor burn trying to put it out. Now that I knew they were a couple, it was obvious to me. They just worked together perfectly, and it would seem wrong if they weren't together.
Ryan hadn't really done anything wrong the entire day, because it turns out he just had a natural gift with running his own restaurant.
"Brendon, congratulations on doing such a good job today, I think we'll keep you around for a little longer," Ryan joked as he shoved my shoulder playfully. "So, since you survived a day of working with us, why don't you tell us a little about yourself?"
Oh shit, oh shit, this is exactly what I needed to avoid. What could I tell myself about them? My entire life pretty much revolved around the fact that I was homeless. I didn't have time or money for anything else. The air in the room took a turn towards awkward as I failed to answer the question. "Um, well, when I was a kid, I used to get beat around by my older brothers a lot, because I was so small, so I had to start trying to outsmart them. After I got beaten up pretty bad one time, I stole all of their underwear. To make it less suspicious, I even took some of mine with them, and hid them in my sister's room. So not only did my brothers go without underwear for a couple days, my sister also got grounded when they were found. It was a win win situation. For me, at least."
They all started laughing at my story, and then we started sharing childhood stories. Most of Ryan and Spencer's stories were entwined together, I got the feeling the spent most of their time together when they were kids.
A story of Jon's had me laughing so hard I could barely breathe. it was only then that I noticed what time it was, 9:30. Oh shit, I thought to myself. The shelter doesn't let you in after nine, even if you're a long term resident, unless they knew ahead of time. Oh, fuck.
"I've got to go, um, I'll be here tomorrow, on time and all. Bye!" I excused myself, trying to hide how worried I was. There was no way they' let me into the shelter. I'd have to stay on the streets for the night, and I never liked that idea. I was to small, weak, I could never defend myself.
I leave the restaurant in a haze, too busy thinking about where I could go. I knew there where some almost okay guys who camped up out the beach, that'd probably be my best shot.
Luckily, I happened to be friends (not quite friends, but we had talked a few times, and knew each other's names, which is close enough to friends really) with a guy there,, and he let me sleep in his area. It was disgusting, I had to say. Being homeless, I had no room to judge people, but come on, cleanliness is awesome, no matter who you are. Okay, so I'm probably a stuck up homeless dude, whatever.
I don't get much sleep that night, I was too worried about bugs and rats. The sun finally comes up around six, and I got out of there as fast as possible, practically running to the shelter. I get in, and am allowed to shower, get dressed, and eat some breakfast before we're all kicked out again. I got some weird looks from people who knew that I don't ever not come back to the shelter at night, but no one says anything to me, and I'm glad. I'm not proud that I had to stay on the streets. Some people think that's the ultimate sign of coolness, and staying in the shelter is lame, but like I said, I'm a little high maintenance.
At my second day of work, no one seems to notice anything different from me. Ryan even compliments me on my shirt. At the end of the day, I smile. I might actually be able to pull this off.
The weeks pass in a blur of work, Ryan, shelter, Pete, and rushing back to the shelter before nine. I actually enjoy what I'm doing, and I kind of feel like I belong. It's really easy to become friends with Ryan and his friends. They occasionally invite me out to do things with them whenever the restaurant is closed.
"Hey, Brendon," Spencer calls from where he's perched on the counter of the bar while all of the rest of us are cleaning up for closing one day. When I asked him why he didn't help clean u one time, he told me that he is better at supervising everything. Sometimes I wondered if Ryan ran the restaurant, or Spencer secretly controlled everything. It was hard to tell. "We're going out for drinks tonight, and you're coming with us, no excuses."
As he was asking I was already forming a fake reason not to go. Damn, he knew me too well.
Jon added, 'Yeah, dude, it'll be fun. If you get Spencer drunk enough, he'll dance. It's hot man, take my word for it." He smiled and kissed Spencer on the cheek as Spencer flipped him off. I had learned over time that they really were the super couple, and it was really cute. Sometimes I got jealous of what they had, because it was hard to believe that I could ever have that. But whenever I thought that, I just told myself, maybe when I have a house, maybe when things are good.
I still wasn't completely convinced about going. I mean, drinks cost money, and getting water at a bar just makes me look like a freak. I change my mind when Ryan says, 'I'll pay for you're drinks, Brendon. Come on, please?" with his pretty eyes begging me, because, really, if I could say no to that I probably had no soul.
"Okay, I'll go, if you guys want me there so badly," I gave in. Jon whooped and then we were leaving. I had convinced Jon to give my a piggy back ride for part of the way.
"What are you, four?" Ryan laughed at me. I stuck my tongue at him and urged Jon forward.
At the bar, Jon was the one who had to get everyone's drinks, because none of the rest of us were 21 yet. And he had a beard, which made him appear older anyways.
"How old are you, Brendon? I realized I didn't even know," Ryan whispered into my ear as Jon went to get the drinks. I had probably made it clear that I had never really drank anything before by the way that I had almost no knowledge of drinks.
"I'm eighteen, legal, I promise," I replied with a smile.
"It's weird, I feel like I know you very well sometimes, and sometimes I feel like I know nothing about you," He informed me as we saw Jon returning with drinks in his hands.
"Well, you've got time to get to know me better," I said with a slightly flirty edge. I really needed to watch myself, but sometimes I don't care. Every once in awhile, you need to flirt with your straight boss, it just has to be done.
He doesn't get the chance to respond because Jon arrives with our drinks. He gives me some fruity, frilly drink that most men would probably be ashamed to be seen drinking. I smile and remarked, "Oh, Jon Walker, you know me so well!"
After the first drink, the rest of the time in the bar is blurred together. I had fun doing whatever it was. Around two in the morning, we set off. It's then I realize it's two in the morning.
"Oh shit, guys. It's so late, I can't go home now. Oh no." then I notice a particularly nice looking trash can. "Oh, yay, I can stay there tonight! What a nice trashcan!"
They just barely stop me from diving head first into my trashcan. Goddamn, they've got to ruin all my fun, don't they?
"Ryan, you want to take Brendon back to your house? If we let him go on his own, he'll probably end up finding a dumpster of something. He's so drunk, man, I didn't expect that." Spencer said, laughing.
"Mr. Spencer, I am certainly not drunk at all!" I defend myself.
"Sure, sure, and a completely sober person would try to climb into a trashcan."
I get mad at that, so I sit down right on the sidewalk. Ryan sends Spencer and Jon on their way, telling them he could take care of me.
"Brendon, come on, let's go," he insisted. I shook my head and stayed right where I was.
"I have nowhere to go, anyways. They won't let me in," I say. Something tells me I shouldn't say that, but I can't really find myself in a place to care.
"You don't have to worry, you can stay with me tonight. But, Brendon, who won't let you in?" Ryan asks.
"Pete. maybe, I'm not sure who works there. Actually, probably not Pete, because if it was Pete, he'd let me in. Oh, but I'm drunk too, aren't I? They wouldn't like that. Did you know that Pete's not really my friend? Well, he kind of is, but not really. He's just a cop who cares about us. It's because of Patrick. But I think when I have a regular life, we'll be friends! And Pete and Patrick can go on a double date with me! And my boyfriend! Because I'm gay, you know. I don't have a boyfriend though. I want one, but that's not allowed either. I'm not allowed to do anything fun!" I yell, starting to get mad.
"Calm down, Bren. Come on, you're going to come home with me, okay? Then you can tell me all about it," Ryan tells me soothingly. It works, and soon enough I find myself in an unknown apartment. I'm guessing it's Ryan's. Or it could be the cat's. I saw a cat walking around, maybe he owns it and is letting Ryan stay here. I should find myself a cat with a house.
Ryan leads me to a room with a bed. The bed looks so nice, and I haven't slept on a real bed since before. I inform Ryan of that as I plop down on it.
"Oh, and it smells good, like you! Is this your bed, Ry Ry?" I say as I climb down under all the blankets, enjoying the warmth and comfort of it all.
"Yes, it's my bed. Do you care if I sleep in it with you?" Ryan asks me.
"Not at all!: I say with way to much enthusiasm. Ryan laughs. He changes into other clothes, and I sadly don't see anything fun. Then he slides into the other side of the bed, much more graceful than I had been.
After a few seconds, Ryan asks, "Brendon, you don't have to tell me, but who exactly were you talking about earlier?"
I think back to what I had said earlier. Lots of stuff. "Oh, about the shelter, you mean?"
He nods, "I think so."
"That's where I live. I didn't tell you because no one hires homeless people. But I don't stink or anything, I shower everyday! I don't want to be homeless wither, but my parents don't like me anymore. And then I couldn't find a job! No one really wants to hire a high school dropout, even if I only missed a month of school! Silly people! But then you did, and you're really my savior. You're like... Like... Saint Ryan." I say as I let out a yawn. I roll close to Ryan, and he puts his arms around me. It felt so nice. "You're my saint, my very own." I say as I slide into sleep.
It's the best night of sleep I've had in sixth months.
The next morning is not good though. Even waking up in the most comfortable bed in the world couldn't make the awful pounding in my head go away. And I couldn't remember how I had even gotten to this bed, which was so much nicer than my bunk. Maybe I'm about to be killed. What if I had gotten drugged and raped last night? I thought nervously, But I didn't hurt anywhere other than my head, so I had a feeling that didn't happen.
I open my eyes and look around, and I notice I'm not alone in the bed. Ryan is beside me. I remember going to get drinks with him,, Spencer, and Jon, but I wasn't sure how I had ended up here. I had no idea what I had said, or done. Oh no.
My movement woke Ryan up, and he opened his eyes. We stare at each other in silence for a few moments before I finally say, "What happened last night? I'm pretty sure I was drunk as fuck."
He stares at me, probably trying to think of a good response. "Um, well, you were so drunk that we didn't trust you to get home on your own. So I brought you with me. And you kind of, uh, have no filter when you're drunk."
Oh holy shit, "What did I say?"
"At one point, you came out of the closet, he started. Well, it could be worse than that.
"And you told me Pete was a cop, and I eventually got the fact that you're, well, you live in a homeless shelter."
My heart drops. "Damn, remind me not to get drunk anymore. So, I'm guessing I'm fired? I'll be out of here as soon as possible, don't worry, you wont have to see me again."
He sits up, and I get a nice view of his bed head. It's really so cute. I spend as much time as I can looking at him, before it gets too creepy, and then I start to get out of bed. Which didn't work very well, considering I had a god awful headache, and Ryan pulled me back down. What?
Before I could even register it, he was kissing me. He warm, dry lips were on mine, and I was truthfully in heaven, well, hangover heaven. Not actual heaven, because I think that would hurt a little less. I kissed hi back, even though I knew I had nasty morning breath. I didn't care, I was kissing Ryan Ross, this probably won't happen again. Isn't he supposed to be straight?
When we pull apart, instead of saying anything reasonable, I ask, "Aren't you supposed to be straight?"
Ryan laughs, "No, not really. I've liked boys for awhile now, truthfully."
I let that thought sink in. Huh. "So, I'm should continue leaving now, shouldn't I?"
Ryan shakes his head, and gives me a confused look. "I just kissed you, and you think that means I want you to leave?"
"Well, I don't know. I mean, I'm homeless, dude, no one besides Pete likes us. Everyone thinks we're nasty and all we do I drink and do drugs."
"But you already told me you aren't nasty, you shower everyday. Don't try and tell me that's a lie, man." I laugh and shake my head. I am so never getting drunk again.
"So... What does this mean?" I ask, still confused about what was happening.
Ryan smiles shyly, looking at me through his hair (which was still beautifully messy, if you ask me). "I was thinking maybe you could, I don't know, move in with me? Then we could go on some dates. I know that's kind of backwards, but I've got a spare room and everything, so you could move in even if you don't want to do the date thing. But yeah, I kind of really like you, and it would hurt to know you had to sleep in a shelter every night. So, what do you think?"
I stare at him in shock for a second. It occurs to me exactly what is happening. I'm getting offered a place to live, and maybe a boyfriend at the same time. Oh my god. I look around Ryan's room, at the all his clothes, books, and guitars, and I Imagine myself in here. Some of those could be my clothes. This could eventually be our room.
"Dude. I'm freaking homeless. Do you think I could really turn down an offer for a place to live? I'm not Gerard Way. Oh, wait, you don't get that, yeah, I'll explain that reference sometime. But totally yes on that part. And, about the dates... I've been kind of checking you out everyday since I've met you, I've kind of got a huge crush on you, so..."
I was Interrupted by Ryan's mouth on mine again. I smiled slightly, and brought my hands up to his face. Not being homeless was already a hundred times better.
I pulled back and said, "Just wait until I tell Pete and Sam! You're so going to have to meet them! Hey, one of those dates could be-"
"A double date with Pete and Patrick?" Ryan finishes for me. I give him a look of disbelief, how had he known what I was going to say?
"You mentioned it last night, silly," Ryan informed me.
"What didn't I say last night?" I ask.
"Well, you didn't tell me about that crush you had. Guess it's a good thing you told me today." This time, I'm the one who pulls Ryan in for a kiss. Right now is actually looking pretty good.