Mad as Jazzmen |1930s Ryden AU| ✔️

-11-

Brendon was expecting to be reprimanded by Dallon when he tiptoed through the front doors around three in the morning, but instead, the lobby was dark and abandoned, just like the streets of New Orleans outside.  That was unlike Dallon.  Surely he was hiding somewhere, waiting to strangle Brendon for coming back so late, but there was nothing.  Brendon wasn't complaining.

Still, he crawled up the stairs as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the other residents.  He would have a handful of furious letters in his mail slot if he woke an entire floor at three in the morning.  That was the last thing he needed these days.

His apartment was how he left it.  Dark, silent, still a bit unpacked.  He fumbled for the light switch and squinted at its harsh brightness.  He hadn't been in direct lighting since the sun was still up, and Jon's dim candlelight didn't count.  Although, he found himself missing Jynx already.  She was a friendly feline once she had gotten used to him.

His eyelids were growing heavy.  He'd been up for an unhealthy amount of time, and the stressful events of the day didn't help in the slightest.  From the foreclosure notice, to trying to comfort Ryan and Spencer, and to staying up late to talk to Jon, he was absolutely drained and exhausted.  He could practically hear his pillows calling him from where he sat on the couch.

Just as he was about to get up and go to bed, though, there was a knock on the door.

It was three in the morning.  Who could've possibly been at his door at this hour?  Unless it was Dallon waiting to scold him for returning so late in the night, he couldn't even begin to imagine who was outside his apartment.

But when he opened the door, he saw Ryan slumped up against the doorframe, and he didn't look good.

"Ryan?"  he said in disbelief.  "What are you doing here?"

Ryan looked absolutely terrible.  His skin was ghostly.  His eyes were dim and lifeless and puffy from crying.  His hair was a ruffled mess, but strangest of all, he could barely stand without toppling over.  He looked like he could faint at any given moment.

Then the realization hit Brendon.  "Are you....drunk?"

Those three simple words alone seemed to send Ryan over the edge.  Tears spilled onto his flushed cheeks as he stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the door.  "I....I dunno,"  he blubbered.  He wouldn't meet Brendon's eyes, even when he tried to help him regain his unsteady balance.  "I dunno what I am."

"Come in and sit down,"  Brendon told him.  If there was one thing he didn't want to have happen today, it was this.  Ryan was too lively to resort to drinking, and besides, where had he even gotten the alcohol?  It was expensive, let alone still illegal in some places.  Brendon had so many questions.

He slung Ryan's arm around his neck, struggling to guide him over to the couch.  He stumbled and nearly fell with every step he took, but Brendon was there to keep him upright.  He wouldn't let him fall.

"What happened, Ryan?"  Brendon asked as Ryan collapsed onto the cushions, tears still silently streaming down his face.  "What did you do?"

Ryan only shrugged, avoiding Brendon's gaze like a child who was getting scolded by his parents.  "I drank a bit,"  he muttered slowly, his voice wavering with every word.  Brendon could smell the alcohol on his breath from where he stood.

"Where did you get it?"

Another shrug.  "Pop's supply, I guess."

Brendon sighed, his heart panging for what felt like the tenth time that day.  Seeing Ryan in such a broken state made him feel like the world was burning to a crisp right in front of his eyes.  Whenever someone who was usually so bright and bubbly broke down to a blubbering mess, he wanted to do anything to make it right.  Ryan didn't deserve this.  He didn't deserve any of this.