When the lion fell in love with the lamb: Chapter 1
When the lion fell in love with the lamb
POV: Ryan
WARNINGS: none for this chapter. Later in this there WILL be some Ryan/Brendon loving ;D
The bumping and metallic scratching of the tour bus was pulling me out of the sound sleep I had been fortunate enough to fall into. The show last night was, well, amazing. Our set list was only going to be four songs because we were the closing act for Fall Out Boy, but the raging crowd of fans had begged relentlessly for an encore, and we had given them one. For two hours. Brendon’s voice was barely above a scratchy whisper when we had gotten back to the tour bus.
I turned my head to the left, noting the horrid dull aching that it caused. Brendon was retuning an acoustic guitar on the couch opposite of me.
“Morning sleeping beauty.” Brendon teased, his voice still not returned completely.
He had been amazing last night, and I couldn’t get over how incredible of a musician he was. I could almost laugh at the thought of Brendon just being our guitarist. I knew it was the right choice to give him the spotlight. I’m not much of a people’s person anyways.
“It’s morning?” I asked, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window of the bus.
“Afternoon really, but yeah. You’ve been out for a while Ry.” He said, turning his attention back to his guitar.
I sat up slowly, ignoring the tense muscles in my neck and back. I hadn’t changed out of my stage cloths, the fabric of my vest scratching my stomach.
“Where’re we going?” I asked, yawning.
He opened his mouth to answer, but shut it, probably not knowing that answer himself.
“Denver.” Spencer said behind me, most likely coming from his bunk.
“Are we almost there?” I asked.
“Probably not.” He said, shrugging.
I groaned.
“’S’not so bad Ry.” Spencer said softly, going to sit at the small table next to the window.
“Do we have any Tylenol or something?” I mumbled.
“Sorry, Jon used the last of it last night to get to sleep.” Spencer said.
“Dammit.” I said, rubbing my aching skull.
“We’ll stop somewhere and get you some soon Ryan, I’ll tell Zack.” Brendon told me with a wide smile, getting out of his spot on the couch to walk towards the front of the bus.
I smiled gratefully.
I dug my hand in my pocket, searching for my sidekick. When I pulled it out I checked the time; it was nearly 3 in the afternoon.
“Zack said when we get into the next town we’ll pick up some lunch and Tylenol.” Brendon said, plopping back down onto the couch.
He was in a pair of black skinny jeans and a red hoodie. His hair was stuck to his forehead oddly, and he almost looked childish. Spencer was in a pair of black shorts and a baggy t-shirt, probably too lazy to change.
“Thank you.” I said.
He nodded, smiling again.
I don’t think I could ever get him to frown. I looked up when Jon stumbled in, rubbing his eyes. I had to hold my self back from laughing. He had eyeliner smudged all over his cheeks, and his hair was sticking up haphazardly. His boxers were spilling over the waistband of his jeans that were falling down over his hips. He didn’t have a shirt on, and he had red marks all over his stomach and chest from the creases in his mattress.
“Lookin’ good Jonny boy.” Brendon said, laughing.
Jon grimaced, but after a moment grinned despite himself.
“My head hurts.” He groaned, sitting across from Spencer.
“Tell me about it.” I said.
“Am I the only one who feels great?” Brendon asked.
“Yeah.” I decided, shrugging.
“I feel pretty good, but my hands hurt like hell.” Spencer said, raising his hands to show us the blisters that covered his hands.
“That’s awesome!” Brendon said, getting up to get a closer look.
I looked down at my phone to find I had a new text from Pete.
‘How’d you guys like the show last night? Sorry it was such a small venue. We had fun anyways!”
My eyes widened at the middle part. Small venue. What?! That was the biggest show I had ever been too!
‘It was great Pete! We’re on our way to Denver. We had a great time too.’ I typed.
I shook my head, turning to look out the window again. This was our first tour, and I was having the single best time of my life. I had never thought we would get this big. And if last night’s show was “a small venue”, I don’t even want to think about what a big show is like.
There was rain pattering softly on the window; not my ideal “after show” mood weather, but it was calming my headache.
“Ryan?” Brendon asked.
I turned to him.
“Zack said we’re going to a hotel in Denver, so make sure you’re ready when we get there.” He said.
I nodded. He got up, walking happily to sit next to me.
“Last night’s show was awesome huh?” He asked.
“Yeah, it was. Pete said that was a small venue.” I said, looking at him.
“What? That show was huge!” He said, furrowing his eyebrows.
I shrugged. “Well not to Fall Out Boy.” I said, grinning.
“Apparently…” He said, lost in thought.
“You did so good last night though.” I said, poking his side.
“Nawh. If you guys hadn’t been there I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” He said.
“All I did was play the guitar, you can do that too. Along with every instrument I can think of….” I reminded.
“Yeah, but having someone play for me is special, especially my best friends.” He said.
“Eh. Did you see those girls running to the tour bus last night? Zack was pissed!” I said laughing.
“Oh yeah! I was actually looking forward to talking to people.” Brendon said.
I hummed in agreement.
“You should go get ready.” Brendon said.
I nodded, getting off the couch and going towards my bunk. I slid the vest off, putting it into my bag. I unbuttoned my shirt and black pants, sliding them off and dropping them into my bag as well. I pulled on my own pair of skinny jeans and a black v-neck, pulling on a pair of vans. I opened the bathroom door in the back of the bus, checking my hair in the small mirror. I nearly gasped at the disarray in front of me. I spent almost ten minutes getting it back into the spiked form that I liked-which I noticed some fans calling it “the Ry-hawk- and leaving the bathroom. I picked up the rest of the cloths that I left all over my bunk and folded them back up, plopping them into my bag. I finished by making my bed, setting the bag on top. Brendon’s bunk was already spotless, bag packed next to his pillow. Jon hadn’t cleaned, but his bunk wasn’t that messy in the first place. Spencer’s bunk was half clean, bed made, cloths set neatly into piles.
When I walked back to the couch Spencer was focusing on something on his laptop, hand resting in his palm.
“Spencer, Jon, you guys should get dressed too.” I said.
Spencer nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen. Jon slid himself out of the chair, and walking to his bunk.
“You ready for another show next week Ryan?” Brendon asked.
“Better question is, are you?” I asked.
“Honestly? I’m dying to play again.” He said.
I nodded.
“I’m not sure how I’ll do if the crowd gets much bigger.” I confessed.
“You’ll do great. I know you will.” He assured, smiling.
I smiled back.
I sure hope I will.