All In My Mind [Standalone]
Title: All In My Mind
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Bulimia. I wouldn't recommend reading if vomiting grosses you out.
Pairing: Brendon/OC, Brendon/Ryan
Summary: Standalone. Third person, Ryan-centric. Ryan has been hopelessly in love with Brendon for as long as he can remember. For a while, he was happy with their relationship as good friends who stayed up late together and shared everything. But then Brendon met someone new, and Ryan's entire world was thrown into jeopardy. Ryan was convinced though, that Brendon could still be his,...if only he could find a way to make himself beautiful.
The day Brendon met him was the day Ryan’s life started unraveling at the seams.
He had auburn hair that was always flawlessly tousled and styled, and endless brown eyes that sparkled when he was happy and drew you into helpless sympathy when they carried even a hint of sadness. His arms and torso were muscled, and his clothes fit to his body like he was wearing nothing at all, his flat stomach and thin thighs in plain sight. He was everything Ryan wasn’t. Ryan couldn’t be surprised by the rapt attention Brendon paid to him, he couldn’t be angry about it.
But he could be heartbroken. He could turn his eyes away every time Brendon went to him, went to talk to him, went to smile and laugh and joke with him. He could go back and close himself up in the bus instead of going out with the rest of the band when Brendon would be bringing him along and stay conjoined at the hip to him the whole night. Ryan could curl up in his bunk every night, clutch his pillow to his chest, and cry silent tears until he lulled himself to sleep.
Brendon may have told Ryan all the time that they weren’t dating, but Ryan could see that intention plain as day on his face - obvious every time he looked at Brendon. And no matter anything that Brendon said, that same expression was always on his face whenever he looked at him.
Ryan wasn’t stupid. He saw what was going on. The love of his life was being stolen away right in front of his eyes.
Ryan had had it in his head that Brendon would always be his. He had thought the unspoken promise had been made all those late nights he and Brendon would stay up late together, playing video games, smoking bowls, or whispering soft secrets to each other to fend off the imposing darkness of 3-AM and the anxiety of Ryan’s insomnia. They would share everything with each other - from child hood secrets and embarrassing stories to their most dire fears, life regrets, and most precious memories. Ryan had opened himself up to Brendon like a book, and Brendon knew every sentence, hell, even every period and apostrophe.
And Ryan knew just as much about Brendon. He had all of the younger boy’s little quirks and habits memorized, and they did nothing but send Ryan spiraling deeper into the depths of adoration.
He knew that he couldn’t possibly know Brendon as well as he did, couldn’t understand him like Ryan did. But Ryan understood that it didn’t matter. He was gorgeous and charming, and Brendon was hardly at fault for falling under his spell. Ryan could never begrudge Brendon anything. He could feel waves of disdain for him though, only because he was perfect in every sense of the word. He was everything Brendon could have ever wanted.
The band was sound checking, and he was there. Spencer was sitting idly at his drums while Jon strummed his bass, waving his hand at the guy working the sound board to turn the volume up or down.
Ryan had the strap to his guitar over his shoulder and the instrument resting in his hands. His eyes were glued to the fret board. He refused to look away from it. He refused to look over to the side of the stage, where Brendon and him were standing close together, talking and laughing together.
Ryan didn’t look - he didn’t see the way he kept putting his hands on Brendon’s arms in a friendly manner whenever he told the punch line to a joke or added the ending flourish to his story. But Ryan didn’t have to look - his mind filled it in for him.
Brendon eventually made his way onto the stage to play through a couple songs with the rest of the band. Now Ryan couldn’t keep his eyes on his guitar no matter how he tried.
Brendon was mesmerizing in mid-song. He was the most alluring thing Ryan had ever seen. He always sung with his whole heart, pouring everything he had into every single note and word. Brendon’s hands moved over the neck of his guitar while his other hand worked the strings. He played with that ease and natural talent that Ryan knew he himself didn’t possess. But again, he couldn’t hate Brendon for it. There was no use in resenting him for his natural talent and perfection.
Ryan’s eyes never left Brendon. But no matter the persistence of his gaze, Brendon didn’t even turn once in Ryan’s direction. His eyes kept flitting over to him, over on the side of the stage. He would smile back, and Brendon seemed entranced.
Back on the bus afterwards, Ryan had closed himself off in the bathroom. Jon, Spencer, and Brendon were out in the main area, watching something on the TV at a ridiculously loud volume.
Ryan was staring at himself in the mirror, taking in his own rickety frame, and his face with all those sharp, unattractive angles. What would it take for Brendon to look at Ryan instead of him? What would it take for Brendon to bestow Ryan with that same warm, loving gaze? Maybe…..
Maybe if only he was beautiful.
Maybe if only he possessed a little of that same kind of captivating appeal as he did. Maybe if his arms and chest were buff like that….if his frame didn’t hang the way it did, if it had more strength and beauty to boast. Maybe if the waistband of his jeans fit the same way…..
Then he was clutching his tooth brush in one hand, and the other end was behind his tongue. The television in the lounge was turned up so loud that it drowned out the sounds of Ryan bent over the toilet, retching out every solid thing in his stomach.
He had to be beautiful. It was the only way.
It quickly morphed into a habit.
Nothing changed that anyone else noticed - Ryan still laughed and smiled and hung out with everyone else. He averted his eyes all the same whenever he was around, but his pain was hidden from sight. He ate junk food, drank beer, and went out to dinner whenever the band was going out. There wasn’t one nervous glance to be seen towards food. His façade was flawless.
But it all came crashing down whenever Ryan was alone in the bus, and nobody was around to hear his new bathroom routine. That tooth brush was the way he was going to win Brendon’s attention. He had to make sure he did it right. He would vomit over and over again until he was sure the only thing coming up was the burning stomach acid. And if he hadn’t had a chance to do so the day before, then he would do double, just to make sure.
Each time he did it he lost more and more emotional restraint. After two weeks of the practice, he would be on his knees in front of the toilet by the end - mixing tears in with the throw up.
Three weeks later, and Ryan’s plan wasn’t working. If anything, things were just getting worse.
He was around almost all the time. Brendon showed no signs of tiring of him. He was always still welcoming him with a warm, inviting smile and body language that - to Ryan - screamed want. Brendon seemed to just be more and more absorbed in him every day, not turning his attention to Ryan like he was supposed to be. Ryan didn’t understand what was wrong.
There was only one solution Ryan could think of that would work for sure.
He started putting loud music on in the bus and disappearing into the bathroom twice a day instead of just once. The thinner he was, the more Brendon would come to love him. If he could be skinnier - prettier - than him, then Brendon would surely leave him in the dust and turn all his love to Ryan.
With every passing day, Ryan starved for it more. He wanted Brendon to give him that special dazzling smile that Ryan had only seen a few times on those especially late nights together. Ryan wanted that smile to be just for him. He wanted to be the one to make Brendon’s face light up the way it did when he got especially happy - when someone told him something nice or gave him a present or something. Sometimes Brendon was alarmingly similar to a child in how simple it was to make him happy. But that just made him so much more torturously charming.
Ryan needed him.
It had started with just a crush, but then it had twisted itself into something more, something ugly and dire. The only thing that would be able to stop Ryan’s purging addiction was Brendon’s attention. He needed Brendon to acknowledge him; acknowledge all the work he had invested in his appearance. He had done it all for Brendon.
But then, one day, Ryan reached the edge. He was traipsing to their dressing room in that night’s venue, feeling sick to his stomach from his latest beautifying work. His stomach felt like it was twisting itself into a knot inside him - not from the presence of something bad in his stomach, but rather from the presence of nothing at all.
The stress from the vomiting, over and over and over again, made his whole body sore and achy. Just walking was a chore, and Ryan was in no good frame of mind. He had no strength left.
When he pushed the door to their dressing room open, the first thing his eyes went to was Brendon. He was sitting on the couch, his body turned away from the door. But just beside him on the couch - him.
Ryan only saw for a split-second, but he had been leaning in, totally focused on Brendon. Or more specifically - Brendon’s lips.
Brendon immediately spun at the sound of the door opening, wide, beautiful eyes fixing on Ryan right away. Ryan’s face turned deathly pale, and he felt like his body had just given out from underneath him. His eyes met Brendon’s, and he could see something hidden behind those eyes he had loved for so long. Ryan’s world cracked in half.
That thing in Brendon’s eyes had to be something towards him; the silent confession that Brendon was in love - and it wasn’t with Ryan.
Ryan clutched the door for support as he turned away from the room. He willed his weak legs to move, to get him away from here. He had to get away.
He managed his way out of the building. He was panting from the exhaustion of pushing his body to run, but he couldn’t stop yet.
He was going to be sick. He stumbled to the bus, pulling himself up the steps of the vehicle and inside. Jon and Spencer weren’t around, but Ryan didn’t have the clarity of mind anyway to see that.
He fell to his knees in front of the toilet, and started vomiting so hard his emaciated frame shook.
This was out of his control. This time it was like it was being wrenched from his very insides. He hadn’t summoned the vomiting to start - this time it was taking him over. It didn’t stop.
Soon, Ryan was coughing, gasping for breath and his eyes stung with tears. Something touched his shoulder - someone spoke….but to Ryan it was like the person was a world away.
The vomiting didn’t stop until his stomach just couldn’t produce anything else to expel. Ryan dry heaved for longer than he could keep track of. Sobbing joined his tears.
It wasn’t until a while later when Ryan’s strength less body collapsed on the dirty bus bathroom floor. His face was wet, and he gasped for breath now that the heaving had finally stopped. His stomach felt like it was knotted up inside him; it was probably the most painful thing Ryan had ever felt.
But his attention couldn’t leave those few seconds that kept replaying in his brain - Brendon’s wordless confession of his true feelings.
That same person was still talking. Ryan’s eyes moved slowly, trying to take in the person who was leaning over him and speaking loudly and urgently. Ryan’s eyes skimmed uselessly over the ceiling a few times before finally settling on the person. It was Brendon. Ryan would have cried at the sight of him if he all of his tears hadn’t previously been expended.
Brendon was saying his name - he sounded desperate, upset. Ryan tried his best to make his ears work.
“…Ryan. Ryan! What are you doing?! Fucking hell, are you okay?! No…..no, Ryan. Ry, say something…please…”
Ryan didn’t get why Brendon was so upset. Brendon didn’t love him…..
“Sit up…c’mon, Ry..”
Brendon wrapped his arms around Ryan, lifting him up as mush as he could and holding him up by cradling him in his arms.
“God…how long have you been doing that? Your body’s so weak….”
Ryan’s eyes remained blankly glued to Brendon’s face. Then Brendon stroked the fingers of one hand over Ryan’s cheek gently.
“You can’t…..you have to stop doing this, Ryan. You have to….you have to..” Brendon’s eyes flooded with tears as they remained set on Ryan’s pale, defeated face, and the gravity of exactly what had been going on settled over the younger boy. “Have to stop, Ryan. You can’t…you can’t do this to me.”
His arms squeezed Ryan’s limp body close.
“Can’t do this to me……Can’t leave me. I need you. ….R-Ry, I love you. You have to stop this…”
Some of the focus returned to Ryan’s eyes, as now he was completely thrown for a loop.
He didn’t understand at all. Ryan’s throat was still too raw to speak, so he mumbled out as well as he could his name. Brendon looked puzzled, like he couldn’t even begin to fathom why Ryan would be bringing him up.
“What about him?” Then finally, comprehension seemed to dawn on Brendon’s face. “Oh Ry, Ry, no….” Brendon hugged him close. “It’s only you. It’s always been you…you have to know that.”
Jon and Spencer appeared then in the bathroom doorway, both looking very concerned. Ryan didn’t pay attention to them.
He finally found some strength in his body, and one of his arms curled around Brendon.
“N-no…you love him…I know you do…,” Ryan murmured weakly.
Brendon shook his head again as he held Ryan tightly.
“I don’t know where you’re getting this from,” Brendon said weakly, helplessly.
Ryan’s eyes found Jon and Spencer in the doorway for a second. They were exchanging confused glances with each other. Jon mouthed, “Does he mean Jeremy? Brendon’s new guitar tech?” They were looking at each other like the idea of him and Brendon was the most ridiculous and alien thing they had ever encountered. Ryan didn’t understand. How could Jon and Spencer be so blind to what had been developing between Brendon and him?
“In the dressing room…” Ryan blubbered, “I-I saw you two…”
“Saw us what? I was talking to him a-about you. You came in the door…and I was terrified you’d heard. I had to keep it a secret….”
That had been the secret behind Brendon’s eyes? …….Impossible.
“I love you, Ryan…..”
Ryan clutched Brendon as if his life depended on it. His face was crushed against Brendon’s shoulder, and he cried as Brendon held him.
The next day, Brendon didn’t let go of Ryan once. If they weren’t tangled up somewhere together, then Brendon was holding Ryan’s hand without fail. He didn’t let Ryan go off on his own at all. He didn’t let anything happen to him.
Jeremy really wasn’t that good looking. He was wearing sweat pants, and he wasn’t very buff.
He came over to Brendon before their rehearsal to talk to him about one of Brendon’s guitars. Ryan stared as neither Brendon nor Jeremy shared a single smile. They didn’t try to touch. They didn’t flirt or make any jokes. Brendon’s eyes immediately went back to Ryan the second Jeremy was gone. There was nothing between them.
That night, Brendon held Ryan close against his chest on the couch in the bus lounge. They were sharing another late night together. Ryan had Brendon, but his body still ached for the need to purge.
He trembled, and he cried. But Brendon didn’t let him go. Brendon held him tight.
He whispered to Ryan that he would always be there. He would always take care of Ryan, and he would never let him hurt himself again.
A/N: Whew. This was a pretty heavy subject matter for me. I've never really written anything this dark before for this fandom, so I hope it worked!
Comments are love. <3