Chapter Text
* Josh *
Quiet mumbles force him to unglue his eyelids and blink the sleep away. He sits up in the bed lazily and scratches his head. It's too early. Josh glances at the watches that stand on the nightstand. 11 A.M. Yeah, too early. The mumbling gets cut off and in a moment he spots Tyler with a corner of his eye. Tyler is wearing nothing but his boxers when he walks into Josh's room without knocking. He strides towards the bed and flops down near the other boy.
"It got sold." - Tyler breathes.
"Good morning to you, too. And what are you talking about?" - Josh yawns.
"My piece. The painting of you. Walker bought it." - Tyler says. Josh's eyes grow wide.
"What?! Were you even planning to sell it?"
"No. But, Josh, he called me this morning. Do you know how much he was willing to pay? Five thousand bucks. Five thousand for my drawing." - Tyler speaks and looks like he still has a hard time believing his art got sold.
"This is amazing!" - Josh's face breaks in grin. "Tyler, this is-Wow!" - I am so proud of you, he wants to add. But he doesn't.
"I will receive my check tomorrow." - Tyler mumbles. "This is unbelievable."
"Not at all! you are a wonderful artist-"
"I've painted dozens of other stuff, Josh. But the only thing that got sold was your portrait. Do you know what that means?"
Josh blinks. His heart starts beating faster, his hands are sweating.
"That I'm really good at painting the portraits."
"Tosser!" - Josh laughs and throws a pillow at Tyler.
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*Gerard*
"Please tell me you bought milk yesterday."
"Um-" - Gerard tries to think of something quickly. "I did, actually. But I got mobbed on my way home and they stole it. The milk. Yeah."
Mikey shuts the fridge door and blinks at his brother, who's sitting on the counter and avoiding his gaze.
"Oh." - He mumbles. "Well, that sucks."
"I know right." - Gerard nods and sips his coffee.
"Good morning, Ways." - Brendon walks into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "How's the day going so far?"
"Brendon."
"Yeah?" - The boy asks, grabbing an apple from the vase and biting down on it.
"Those are my boxers."
Brendon glances down at the Hulk boxers and rolls his eyes.
"Should have known." - He scoffs at Gerard. "Have you seen Ryan?"
"The boy's disappeared on you again?" - Mikey asks.
"I don't know. I mean-I haven't seen him this morning. And he doesn't have classes today. So it's strange."
"You're getting paranoid." - The redhead mumbles. "He's not going anywhere from you, relax."
"Whatever." - Brendon throws an apple to the trash can and walks out of the kitchen.
__
*Ryan*
His heart is beating like crazy. He waits for the familiar voice to answer the phone, as he stands in the freezing cold behind their house. His mind is blank, his thoughts are dissolving. He doesn't even know what he's doing.
"Hello?" - He hears a confused voice. Shivers run down his spine and his throat closes.
"Mom?" - He rasps shakily.
"Hello? George, is that you?" - She gasps.
"Hi, mom." - He whispers, trying to steady his breathing.
"Where are you George? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." - Ryan closes his eyes and sighs. He's been hating her for too long. For too fucking long. "How are you, mom?"
"I-I'm okay. The funeral went fine, there was so many people. Why-Why didn't you come, George? I was waiting. We all were waiting for you."
"I couldn't." - He responds honestly. "I couldn't and I didn't want to."
"But-"
"Mom, I miss you." - He blurts suddenly. His body starts to tremble as he holds the phone closer to his ear. "Mom, fuck, I miss you so much. I am so sorry for being a shitty son-"
"George, don't be silly!" - He hears his mother's shaky voice. "You are my son, and I was happy when you escaped from your father's grip. I could never protect you from your father, George."
He knows what. That's why he was trying to prove to himself that he hated his mother. Only because she couldn't defend him, only because she left and rescued herself.
"I miss you." - He feels tears running down his cheeks. "There's so much I want to tell you. About me, about my life. Everything."
"You can visit me whenever you want.." - She says softly. "This is your house.
"No, it's not." - He shakes his head. "It's not."
"You can visit me anytime you wish, George."
"Yeah, okay, mom." - He whispers and smiles, ignoring wet marks on his cheeks. "I love you."
"I love you too, George. Hope to see you soon."
"And mom?"
"Yes, love?"
"It's Ryan. Not George-that's not my name. It belongs to him.
"Of course, Ryan. Good bye."
She hangs up, but Ryan is still clutching the phone in his hand. His shoulders are shaking, and he can't stop a wet sob escaping his lungs. He slides down, his back against the wall of their house and curses.
"You called her." - He hears a soft voice beside him. Ryan lifts his eyes only to be met with Brendon's concerned ones. The boy is staring down at him, and judging from the look on his face - he heard it all. So Ryan nods and wipes the tears with the sleeve of his sweater.
"Hey, no. Don't hide. Not from me." - Brendon whispers and sits down beside him on the ground. He wraps an arm around Ryan's trembling shoulders. "You okay?"
"Will be." - He mumbles and sniffs. The raven-haired boy locks him in his embrace, letting Ryan bury his head in his warm chest and runs a hand through his curls.
"Of course you will be okay." - Brendon whispers and places a kiss on the top of Ryan's head. "I've got you."
Ryan closes his eyes and lets himself be wrapped in strong, warm arms. The cold air doesn't bother him suddenly, because his insides feel warm and protected. For the first time in his life - he feels protected.
"Thanks." - He whispers and lets his consciousness drift away.