"Put the gun down, Pete," Brendon says with a roll of his eyes, casual and almost bored. I am frozen, finding myself at gunpoint for the first time in my life. Brendon and Pete barely acknowledge my existence, and I am nearly paralysed with fear. "You know you're not gonna shoot anyone."
"Oh yeah?" Pete asks, eyes narrowing.
"Yeah. I bet you don't even have real bullets in that thing," Brendon snaps.
"What makes you so sure?"
"What's going -" I start, but Pete shouts, "Shut up!" and I close my mouth, my heart beating wildly.
Pete glances at me. "What the fuck are you doing here, you stupid fuck? I thought I told you -"
"You lied to me!" I shout at Pete, and he waves the gun in my direction, instantly getting me to shut up. We stand in a triangle in the room, I'm closest to the door, and no one is daring to move. Brendon hasn't looked at me once, Pete looks dangerous and vicious, and I have no idea what to do.
"Brendon -"
"Shut up, Ryan!" Brendon barks at me.
"Give me the papers," Pete growls at Brendon, and I only now notice that Brendon is holding a folder in his hands.
"No."
"Give me the papers!" Pete barks and points the gun at Brendon instead. Brendon doesn't even flinch, but I immediately take a step towards Brendon, ready to pull him down to the ground if need be. "I'll shoot Ryan," Pete threatens, and I stop dead.
Brendon groans in frustration. "Pete, you stupid fuck, you can't kill anyone. How are you going to get your revenge on me if you get thrown in jail?"
"I won't kill him, just blow off one of his knees."
Brendon shakes his head. "You're not gonna do anything that could get you arrested. You don't have the balls."
"Give me the papers!" Pete barks again with more frustration.
Brendon sighs and begins to talk to Pete in a patronising tone, which is insane because Pete has a fucking gun. "Have you noticed how there actually is no guy from the admissions office here? I mean, goddamn, Pete, you thought I haven't know you were after me? That beating me up wasn't enough for you? For a Harvard graduate, you are disappointingly slow."
Pete grins. "Oh, but you didn't know Ryan here -"
"Please. I've known for weeks," Brendon spits, and I freeze. Brendon's known I've been spying on him for weeks? "Get the hint, Wentz: you're not playing me. I've been playing you the entire time. You thought anything I told Ryan about Jules was actually real?" Brendon laughs. "I made the whole fucking thing up to make sure you get nothing but a bunch of lies."
Both Pete and I freeze. Pete gives me an infuriated glare, but I stare at Brendon disbelievingly. That day when he told me, when we were sitting in the empty lecture theatre and Brendon was nervous, but still smiling and kissing me... he was lying?
But Travis. Travis and Cash and Jon and the codenames and, and...
"So you think here is finally your incriminating evidence, is that right?" Brendon asks, opening the folder and pulling out a pile of papers. "The details on the Improvers, the evidence you need to have? I mean, you have to show Whittle and her crew something to get me kicked out of Swan, right?" Brendon spits, throwing the name of the president of the entire university into the mix. He throws the papers in the air, and they are all blank.
"Nothing," Brendon growls at Pete as the papers settle on the ground around us. "You have nothing on me because you can't prove a fucking thing. You were probably smart enough to record Ryan's weaselling on tape, but it's of no use to you. Nothing I told Ryan is true. Improvers? Servants? I mean, god!" Brendon laughs. "You bought that bullshit?"
