Stay Gucci, Casanova (Ryden AU ✔️)

6: Anger and Slammed Doors

All Brendon's ever wanted to do was perform.

He's always been quite the performer; he treated school presentations like they were mini plays, and he made sure to join as many arts-related clubs as possible. He was notorious for purposely messing up choir performances, breaking into Britney Spears' Toxic instead of the national anthem (though, to be fair, any sane person would make the same mistake) once in front his entire middle school. There was another incident in his freshman year of high school, where he was in the school musical and convinced one of his friends to start beatboxing in the middle of an execution scene. Brendon began to rap about all the popular people at school, calling some out on their 'raging bullshit' before being kicked off the stage by the drama teacher. Needless to say, he wasn't allowed to be in a high school musical ever again.

He went to university to major in theatre acting and musical theory, also taking choir to redeem himself and to train for his 'big break that'll happen anytime now, just you wait.' He'd do anything to perform, so you can imagine how surprised he is when he realizes he's willing to throw it all away on a whim.

For what, you may ask? Let me ask you this: what does Brendon love more than performing? Wait, let me rephrase that: who does Brendon love more than performing?

I'll let you answer now before I proceed. Take a moment to fill in the blanks for yourself, I'd love to hear what you all think I'm talking about.

~~

"Woah, dude!" Dallon exclaims, pressing the palms of his hands against the glass display window of a shoe shop. "Look at these shoes!"

Brendon turns to look at the tall stilettos, smiling a bit while swallowing some guilt in his stomach. "Oh, those are nice," he observes, his voice unintentionally soft.

"Yeah, but your kinky boots will be nicer," Dallon proclaims. He steps away from the display and continues walking down the street, his best friend walking beside him. "If you don't get that role, I'm gonna go down there and fight those New Yorker asswipes."

Brendon nervously chuckles. "Yeah, uh," he warily starts, "about that..."

Dallon stops walking, an alarmed expression adorning his face. "Wait. Did you seriously not get the role?" He grabs Brendon's wrist before he can respond. "Come on B, we're getting on the next plane to New York. I just need to talk-"

"No, it's not that," Brendon interrupts. "I, uh, maybe sorta kinda...said-"

"No." Dallon points at him, now furious. "Do not finish your sentence unless it ends up with you accepting that goddamn role."

"I-I just," Brendon stutters, "I really don't wanna leave Ryan-"

"Well, I won't be surprised if he leaves you over this," Dallon snaps. "That's kind of an idiot move, Brendon. Just wait until Ryan finds out."

"I wasn't planning on telling hi-"

"Good." Dallon grabs his arm again. "Because I'm going to."

Brendon's eyes widen. "What the fuck? No!"

Dallon remembers they're still in public and most likely making a scene, but he doesn't care. "Well," he starts, "you sure as hell aren't gonna listen to me lecturing your dumb ass. I need someone who you'll actually listen to to tell you you're being stupid."

But when he tells Ryan, his reaction is far more explosive than Dallon's.

"You what!?" He screams, causing Dallon to slip out of their apartment faster than Usain Bolt.

Brendon gulps, now very nervous. He's never seen Ryan this angry. "I-I-"

"Brendon," Ryan spits, gripping the kitchen counters in anger, "have you lost your fucking mind? Do I have to check you for a goddamn fucking fever? Why the hell-what?"

Brendon awkwardly stands in the middle of the kitchen, playing with his hands. "Baby, I-"

"Don't fucking baby me right now, Urie."

Brendon's head shoots up in alarm. The last time Ryan referred to him by his last name, he didn't talk to him for nearly a week. It was a dark time in the beginning of their relationship, and the both of them thought it was going to end just like that.

"Let me get this absolute bullshit straight." Ryan crosses his arms, his face turning red. It begins to scare Brendon. "You have a chance to pursue your dream, something you've wanted since you were old enough to remember anything, and you just throw it away for a relationship? Do you hear yourself?"

"I-I love you Ryan, that's why-"

"I love you too, but if Stephen Hawking came up to me and asked me if I wanted to apprentice under him, I wouldn't hesitate for one goddamn second." Ryan unfolds his arms. "You're not in some Hollywood movie starring Justin Timberlake, Brendon. This is the real world, and frankly I don't find it romantic when I hear people say that they won't pursue their dream job so they can be with the person they love. If they're really meant to be, they'll find a way to work it out so they can both keep their jobs and their relationship. So when Dallon tells me what you've done," he takes a much needed breath of air, "I can't help but get just the tiniest bit pissed."

Brendon opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off again. "You can't let me hold you back from what you've always wanted," Ryan continues, but his voice is softer now. Not quite his regular tone, but he's not yelling anymore. "You're the most talented and passionate person I've ever met, B. If you think I can live life knowing that my presence held someone back from potentially having the career of their dreams, then apparently you don't know me at all."

Brendon looks down at the floor, closing his eyes. He hears Ryan walk past him, and his eyes shoot open when he hears coats rustling. He spins around and sees Ryan putting his fedora on, slipping his shoes on right after. "Ryan, don't!" Brendon exclaims, the weight of everything that's been said in the kitchen settling on his shoulders. "God, fuck, please don't leave," he begins to panic, "I love you, I can't-"

"I just need a walk," Ryan snaps. He stands up, barely even looking at Brendon before opening the door. "Don't bother following me. I need air and time away from whatever this is."

And with that, he leaves, the door slamming behind him.

~~

Brendon hasn't stopped pacing since Ryan left, trying to do anything to distract him from their fight. They're not a couple that typically fights a lot; they get into small fights about doing the dishes or over what character is better on whatever TV show they're watching, but big fights like this are rare.

He glances over at the clock, and his heart races when he realizes Ryan's been gone for nearly an hour. He knows Ryan needs time to calm down, but he can't help but get nervous for his safety. It's beginning to get dark out; who knows what could happen?

Brendon sits down on the couch, whipping out his phone and calling the only person he knows will be willing to help.

"Hello?" A soft voice he's known for years answers, making him sigh in relief.

"Sarah, I need you. Are you with Jenna?"

A/N: I have no pun and I feel like a fraud

I was a little hesitant to post this chapter because I don't really like how I wrote it but I'm digesting my fear and asking for your opinions on it. Who do you think is in the wrong in this situation? Did Dallon have the right to tell Ryan about Brendon? I already have plans to go back and rewrite the whole story in Brendon's POV once it's done, so your feedback is always welcome/needed so I can make the story better as time goes on.

On another note, I've gotten into religiously playing that Harry Potter mystery game and it's literally my new favorite thing it's kinda sad. Merula is kinda cute but she's a major bitch so I'm really conflicted. Ben Copper is such a sweetheart cinnamon roll and I wanna wrap him in a blanket and hide him from the world because he doesn't deserve to be in that world of potentially insane brothers and abusive Snapes (if you follow me on Twitter you'll already know how much I hate Snape with a burning passion). Rowan is just...I don't deserve her??? She's so sweet??? We all deserve her love and support??? If anyone hurts her I'll hurt them???

This author's note is way too long but I have a lot of feelings so it must be done