Imagine Knowing Him (Ryden)

Chapter 28

Hey guys!! Oh my lord... I'm soooo sorry for not updating in so long :( but I hope you'll like this one, I actually thought it turned out quite well. If you're easily triggered, be careful, but its not that bad. Just Bren's backstory is somewhat... rough. Anyways enjoy! :)

Brendon's POV:

I can't believe I'm doing this. Nervously I fiddle with the keys in my hand. Momentarily I stand in front of the well known, white, wooden door to Ryan Ross' apartment.

The Ryan Ross that is the amazing singer and lyricist from the famous band Pile-Up, the Ryan Ross that I watched countless times performing live on stage, the Ryan Ross I was able to call my beloved boyfriend, before I destroyed the most important thing in my life.

Yesterday at precisely 7:08pm Jon called me to tell me he talked to Ryan and he was willing to give me a chance to explain. That was more than I could have ever asked for.

So, since yesterday precisely 7:09pm, I can't think about anything else, but what I am gonna say. I even started to write it down, but that sounded really weird. In the end I threw the paper away. I thought about some good phrases I could use though. That might be helpful. Whatever, okay I have to go in now.

My nervousness creases to an extent where I start shaking. I mean I finally see him again after weeks of literally zero contact. I can't really comprehend, that he even allowed me to come here.

It doesn't matter now, Brendon. Go in! Waiting any longer wouldn't make a difference anyways. My gaze captures the key in my hands again. I'd rather not use the key. Obviously, I'm not in the position for that anymore and I don't want Ryan to really think I want to kidnap him. Okay, Bren, here goes nothing. I knock on the door and wait.

Seconds feel like hours, when you're being anxious, like I certainly am right now. I finally hear footsteps, following by the opening of the door.

Ryan is standing right in front of me, wearing grey sweatpants and a way too large black sweater. Honestly, that is not too unusual, these were his comfy clothes even when we were still together. But what seriously weirds me out is when my look catches his face.

It isn't his usual happy face he used to wear whenever I was around, he looks exhausted, sad and mostly angered. I internally sigh and feel sadness fill my whole body: What did I expect?

"What do you want?" he asks me in such a harsh tone, it makes me cringe. I've never heard him talk to me like that, not even on the rare occasions that he was mad at me. "I came to talk." I'm still slightly confused by his tone. "Can I maybe come in? I really don't want to do this in the doorway." I say as quietly as before, still obviously intimidated by him.

He contemplates my request for a second, but then just leaves to go to the living room. I follow, closing the door behind me slowly. He is waiting for me in the living room. Standing there in an angry manner, his arms crossed. Defiance apparent. Obviously, he doesn't want to talk to me, but I still hope he will listen.

I know very well that I just have this one chance to explain, so of course I'm gonna use it.

"Like I said: talk. I don't have much time I was just about to watch a movie." He wasn't, I can tell, but he is not even trying to hide the fact that he is not happy about having to listen to me.

I see him grabbing a pack of Marlboro's from the couch table to light one up. I feel my body stiffen, when did he start smoking? He has never been a fan of these satanic sticks, but then it hits me. It's my fault he started. He told me his dad had started smoking after his mom left them. I think I don't know the extent of what I did to him. I feel like vomiting, but I can't I have to redeem myself, now!