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Ryan likes to think he’s a nice guy. When any of his friends ask him to play guitar and sing for a small concert, he always agrees. That’s what nice guys do, right?
Anyway, it’s a Saturday night, and here Ryan is, quietly rehearsing lyrics to himself in the corner of the green room. It isn’t the worst green room he’s ever been in. He’s sitting on a strangely plush green couch, one leg crossed over the other. A glass coffee table in front of him is cluttered with papers and half-finished drinks. He’s had a few himself, letting the empty cups pile up.
Ryan’s familiar with a pre-show. He’s already greeted everyone playing tonight, plus the small crew running around. Still, he feels a little nervous. He’s never played with this band before. Did he even remember their name? Not really. It wasn’t that important. He was only doing the singer, Dallon Weekes, a favour.
He knew of Dallon, of course, mostly from when he used to play with Brendon. But after some major fight with Brendon… well, Ryan didn’t know much of what happened after. It stung a little, learning from Dallon that they didn’t work together anymore. He would’ve rather heard that from Brendon himself. But he can’t think about that now. There’s so much else on his mind.
People rushed in and out of the room, making last-minute adjustments. The show was about to begin any minute.
“Ryan! You ready?” Dallon called out, flashing a big grin.
Ryan looked up, and the thoughts clouding his head vanished. He gave a small nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Great! Okay, so—you remember when you come in, right?”
Ryan nodded again. “You’ll play a few songs first, then introduce me.”
Dallon smiled wider, letting out an excited exhale. “This show’s gonna be awesome. Everyone’s so excited.”
Ryan chuckled. “It looks like a good crowd already.”
“I hope they keep that energy,” Dallon said. “I mean, they should, considering you’ll be up there soon.”
Ryan waved a hand, embarrassed by the compliment. “It’s your concert, Dallon. I don’t want anyone thinking about me like that.”
Dallon laughed, about to say something else when someone from the crew appeared and motioned for him to head out.
“Good luck out there,” Ryan said quickly.
Dallon shot him a grin before leaving the green room and stepping onstage. Ryan could immediately hear the shift in the room, the crowd erupted in louder cheers. Dallon’s voice came through faintly as he began a short intro before the first song.
Ryan started pacing, a small thread of anxiety tightening in his chest. It had been a while since he’d done something like this. He told himself to just relax.
Nothing will go wrong.
He told himself again, really trying to believe it.
Soon enough, after a few songs, a stagehand signaled for him. He grabbed his guitar and moved to the side stage, waiting.
“We’ve been keeping this special guest a secret for a while now,” Dallon’s voice echoed through the speakers. “And I’m sure some of you already guessed who it is. But I’m super proud to introduce my new friend and amazing guitar player for tonight... Give it up for the incredible Ryan Ross!”
The crowd went wild as Ryan stepped onto the stage. The lights were blinding, heat washing over him. He smiled, though he hadn’t expected such a reaction, not that he’d ever admit that.
“Well, Ryan, you excited to be here with everybody tonight?” Dallon asked, turning toward him.
“You bet I am,” Ryan said with a grin.
The crowd screamed again. He hoped there wouldn’t be too much stage banter. He’d been better at that when he was younger, when it was his band. Now, he didn’t care much for it.
“Alright, let’s get this started again!” Dallon said, jumping into another song. Ryan followed, the rehearsal hours finally paying off.
As they played, Ryan loosened up, moving across the stage, feeding off the energy. He joined Dallon at center stage, the two of them facing each other as they played. Ryan laughed, wide grin never leaving his face. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this. He leaned toward Dallon, sharing his microphone as they harmonized, and the crowd absolutely ate it up.
About an hour later, the show came to an end. The drummer went wild with one last solo while Dallon hit a final run of bass notes, shouting to the crowd. Ryan didn’t bother to show off, people seemed to love him even when he didn’t.
As the last note rang out, a sweaty, panting Dallon thanked everyone. He turned to Ryan, smiling. “Man, thanks again for joining us tonight.”
Ryan smiled back, unsure what to do. So he gave Dallon a playful smack on the ass. The crowd howled. They both laughed, waving goodbye before heading offstage.
Back in the green room, the atmosphere was electric.
“What a great show tonight!”
“Good job, everyone!”
Ryan found himself joining in, genuinely happy. It felt good to be part of it again.
“Ryan! Man, tonight was perfect. You were awesome out there!” Dallon said, clapping him on the shoulders.
Ryan laughed. “You were great too. You deserve the credit.”
Then Ryan froze. His eyes locked onto someone standing by the door. Someone he hadn’t expected to see.
Brendon.
Dallon kept talking until he noticed Ryan’s distracted stare. He turned, and his face lit up. “Brendon! Aw man, it’s so good to see you!”
He crossed the room and pulled Brendon into a hug. Brendon hugged back, saying something Ryan couldn’t quite catch. The words blurred together, all Ryan could think was:
Why is he here? Did he know I was playing? Did he like the show?
And the thought that hit hardest:
He looks really good tonight.
Before Ryan could gather himself, Dallon and Brendon were walking toward him.
“Did you know Ryan was gonna be here tonight? How cool is that?” Dallon grinned between them.
Brendon shook his head, avoiding Ryan’s eyes. “No, I didn’t know. But… it’s pretty cool, I guess. I’m surprised.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Ryan said quickly, trying to meet his gaze. “And thanks for coming tonight.”
He was silently begging for Brendon to look at him. Even just once.
“Oh, I’m gonna go talk with some of the crew real quick,” Dallon said suddenly. “Be right back!”
And just like that, he was gone.
Now it was just the two of them. The air felt heavy. Brendon folded his arms, tense.
Silence stretched.
“You… you were really good out there,” Brendon said finally, breaking it.
Ryan’s eyes widened slightly. “You think so? Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”
Brendon finally looked up, meeting his eyes only to glare. “I didn’t say I enjoyed it. I said you were good. There’s a difference.”
Ryan paused, then chuckled softly. He could tell Brendon was mad, though he couldn’t tell why. Maybe because they still hadn’t talked since the fallout. Maybe because Ryan had agreed to perform without him. Maybe because-honestly, Ryan didn’t know.
“Okay, so… why didn’t you enjoy the show? I thought you liked Dallon or something,” Ryan said.
Brendon sighed. “Well… you know, it’s not super pleasant to watch your former bandmate slap your other former bandmate’s ass in front of a ton of people.” His voice lowered.
Ryan blinked. “That’s why you’re upset? Because of that?”
Brendon didn’t flinch. “Yeah, actually. It was weird. I know you, and I never thought you’d do that.”
Ryan’s voice cooled. “You don’t know me anymore, Bren. We haven’t talked in forever.”
Brendon’s expression softened, voice dropping. “Don’t call me that…”
Silence again. Dallon still hadn’t returned.
They stood in the charged silence, tension coiling between them. The faint sound of laughter from down the hall only made the quiet feel sharper, like they were sealed off from the rest of the world. The hum of the old fluorescent light filled the space between breaths.
Finally, Brendon exhaled hard. “You know what? Yeah. I am mad. You want to know why?”
Ryan glanced up, his tone cautious. “I thought we already established it was about Dallon’s ass.”
Brendon’s frown deepened. “It’s not just that. It’s you. It’s the fact that you can just show up here, play like nothing’s ever happened, and everyone loses their minds over you again. Like you never left.”
Ryan blinked, unsure if he was hearing right. “That’s what this is about?”
Brendon laughed once. A hollow, bitter sound. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
Ryan’s shoulders tensed. “Then explain it to me.”
Brendon’s voice softened, but the words landed like blows. “I was jealous, okay? I hated seeing you up there with him. I hated that it wasn’t me you were smiling at like that.”
Ryan’s breath hitched. The confession stole every thought from his head.
Brendon turned away, his hands gripping the back of a chair like he needed something to hold him up. “And before you say anything, I know I don’t have the right to feel that way. You made it pretty clear back then.”
“Back then?” Ryan repeated, his voice quieter now.
Brendon’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and glassy. “You remember. On tour. When I—when I told you how I felt. You shut me down so fast I thought I imagined it.”
Ryan’s chest ached at the memory. The way Brendon had looked at him that night, the soft half-smile, the crackle of something too real between them. All those blurred lines. The shared rooms. The unspoken rules they both broke in quiet moments that vanished by morning.
He took a tentative step closer. “You think I didn’t feel anything?”
Brendon let out a scoff that was half a laugh, half a defense. “You didn’t act like you did.”
Ryan’s reply came rougher than he intended. “Because I didn’t know how to.” His eyes flickered, searching Brendon’s. “You were— you are— loud and alive and everything I’m not. I didn’t want to screw it up. I didn’t want to screw you up.”
Brendon’s voice cracked, barely holding steady. “You already did.”
The words landed deep. Ryan looked away, jaw tightening, before pacing toward the door. He paused there, hand against the frame like he was deciding whether to stay. Brendon quickly followed behind. “You don’t think I regret it?” he said quietly. “You don’t think I’ve thought about that night more times than I can count?”
Brendon stilled. “You… have?”
Ryan turned back, meeting his eyes. “Of course I have. Every time we pretended those nights didn’t mean anything. Every time you looked at me like you wanted to say something and didn’t. I thought about it.”
Silence stretched. The air was thick with ghosts of their past; laughter echoing in hotel hallways, music vibrating through thin walls, whispered words that never got their answer.
Ryan took a slow breath. “You think I didn’t want you just as bad? You think I didn’t—” His voice faltered, a tremor in his throat. “You were just easier to love from far away.”
That broke something in Brendon’s expression. His anger softening into something raw, something familiar.
Ryan stepped closer, his voice lower now. “Come on. Let’s get some air.”
Brendon followed him out the side door, where the cool night greeted them like a reset. The alley was quiet, dimly lit by the glow of a streetlight bleeding through the cracks of a fence. The air smelled faintly of rain and old wood. Ryan leaned against the brick wall, running a hand through his hair, his pulse loud in his ears.
Brendon stopped a few feet away, arms folded, but his voice was softer now. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Ryan smiled faintly, his breath visible in the cool air. “So are you.”
Brendon huffed a small laugh. The tension between them thinned but didn’t disappear. It simply changed shape, turning into something electric. “We’re really doing this again, huh?”
Ryan looked at him, eyes gentle but sure. “Seems like it.”
For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then Brendon closed the space between them and kissed him.
It was deep, unsteady, years of emotion poured into a single moment. It wasn’t rehearsed, wasn’t perfect, it was real. The kind of kiss that tasted like memory, like every near-miss and every unspoken truth finally finding its voice.
Ryan’s hand came up to Brendon’s neck, pulling him closer. Brendon’s fingers fisted in Ryan’s jacket, grounding himself in the warmth of it, the familiarity. It felt like coming home and starting over all at once.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads stayed pressed together, breaths mingling in the cold.
Brendon’s laugh was soft, breathy. “You’re still terrible at pretending.”
Ryan smiled, brushing his thumb along Brendon’s jaw. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’ve noticed.”
They stood there for a while, no words, just quiet. The kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Somewhere in the distance, they could hear Dallon talking loudly, laughter echoing from inside, but it felt far away.
Brendon leaned into Ryan, resting his head briefly against his shoulder. “So what now?”
Ryan’s voice came gentle, steady. “Now… we can maybe stop pretending we don’t still want this.”
Brendon’s breath hitched, then turned into a smile he couldn’t hide.
Ryan looked up at the faint stars above the city, the night humming softly around them. The chaos of the world like the show, the band, the years of everything unsaid, all faded away for that moment.
It was just them again. Just like it used to be.
And maybe, this time, they wouldn’t let it slip through their fingers.