The Impossible is Possible (Ryden)

Chapter 18

Brendon sits in Music, beginning to feel that he's got nothing left to live for.

He's tried to talk to his mom about Rodney, but she just says that it's not a topic she wants to discuss with him. He knows that if Rodney ever gets him alone, again, he's going to end up hurt. He's unpopular and beaten up at school. The boy he's in love with will probably never talk to him again.

"Now, then," Mrs. Harris says, standing up and glaring at the class. Brendon sighs, heavily. He's in no mood to deal with her and her snide comments. "I want you all to be able to perform your projects in tomorrow's class, and so you can get into your pairings now to do any fine tuning."

Brendon's heart plummets. He'd completely forgotten about the impending deadline of the project. He and Ryan haven't gotten anywhere with it - they've established that Brendon can sing, and that Ryan can play guitar and write lyrics, but beyond that, they'll be stuck when tomorrow comes. He's not sure, either, that he'll be able to talk to him in class without doing something stupid, like admitting he's in love.

Around him, the class begins to move, quickly settling into their pairings. He stands up, with a heavy sigh, and lets Jon take his seat. Jon gives him a supportive, slightly sad smile, which Brendon returns. He turns to look at the back of the class, nervously biting his bottom lip, to find Ryan watching him. The boy inclines his head a little, and gestures to the empty desk by his side.

Brendon hesitates only for a moment, before going over to the seat, and slowly sitting down in it.

Ryan's gaze moves over the cut on Brendon's cheek, and then to the nasty bruise on the side of his jaw. He swallows, hard, and looks down at his desk. Brendon rubs at his jaw, self-consciously, and sighs. "Right. Um. Our music project. Have you written any lyrics?"

Ryan nods, avoiding his eye. He picks up the journal that lays on his desk, flicks to a page, and hands it to Brendon. The fact that their eyes don't meet and their hands don't brush hurts Brendon more than he ever thought it could. He tries to ignore the sting, however, and just looks down at the page.

As Brendon reads the lyrics, he can feel the pain swelling up inside of him, more and more. They seem long enough for a full-length song, and they're amazing, but they just seem so damn personal and upsetting. He guesses that, once again, it's about Ryan's family, but he's not about to say so.

"Ryan," he says, tentatively, and Ryan meets his eye, and God, he's still beautiful. "Ryan, are you --"

"I need to talk to you," Ryan interrupts, suddenly, urgently. He reaches out and takes Brendon's hand, painfully hard, and stands up, pulling Brendon to his feet with him. "Come on. Now. We need to get somewhere private."

Brendon doesn't resist. He doesn't know if it's even physically possible for him to, because Ryan's fingers are entwined with his, and he's tugging Brendon out of the classroom, completely ignoring Mrs. Harris's startled questions. Ryan drags him through the corridor by the hand, and then straight into the bathroom, bringing bad memories of flushing toilets back to Brendon.

He soon forgets them, however, as Ryan slams him, fairly hard, into the wall. He stares at the boy, rather alarmed, and actually a bit afraid. He's been hurt so much these past couple of days, and he knows that if Ryan does anything violent to him, he might actually hurt him back.

"Who did that to you?" Ryan asks, loudly, gesturing to Brendon's jaw.

"Um. Timothy, actually."

Ryan swears, loudly, and actually grabs his own hair in frustration. He kicks the porcelain stand of a sink, and looks just about ready to smash everything up. "For fuck's sake. This is all my fault."