Excerpt: Who are a little Wise
Who are a Little Wise, the Best Fools be
Excerpt
Rating: PG-13
A/N: girl!Jon. I just felt like writing a little snippet to (what feels like) this epic story that I have almost planned out. Sometimes I like to skip ahead to a scene that makes me happy after a sort of crappy day.
It's somewhere between Portland and Seattle, three weeks before the Solar Equinox tour is finishes, that Jon walks in on Brendon and Spencer playing Guitar Hero and says, "I think I might break my lease and buy a place in Vegas."
Brendon drops his guitar controller and stands up, rushing over to her like she's announced her water broke. "Jon, Jon Walker, you cannot move to Vegas. We don't have snow or a football team. What will you do without the Bears, Jon Walker?" He puts his hands on her elbows and tries to lure her to the couch.
She shakes her head and looks at Spencer. He's very carefully looking at the X-box, putting his controller back where Ryan won't go into an apoplectic fit from seeing it. He takes the game out of the system and puts it on his shelf.
"I can wear sandals all year round," she says to Brendon without looking away from Spencer's hands and careful fingers. She doesn't say that, last time she was there, she couldn't sleep in her bed. The mattress was soaked through with the smell of Cass and his stupid aftershave. It was over a year ago, now, but tour life made her terminally incapable of sleeping without someone around. House on DVD, just to have voices to fall asleep to, seemed sadder than knowing she could probably throw out the cat toys that Dylan never played with.
"What will Tom think? And Bill?" Brendon stays close and warm until she's pressed against the sofa and he can curl up beside her. "And who will watch Ryan for us, if you have your own place? We need someone to Ryan-sit when Keltie's not there." He sits up, shifting onto his knees. "That's what you can do. Ryan has a guest room. You can stay for a week and just never leave until you miss snow. You're totally going to miss that."
She is, but there's her parent's house, or Tom's, or a hundred other couches and guest rooms that will always be open for her. There's also running into Cass at their old favorite diners and wanting to ask him how Clover is, if he--Clover, not Cass--misses her. There's Christmas and holidays, and there isn't a band there. The distance gets harder every time they take a break. She lasted a week into the last one before she flew out and took over Ryan's guest room.
"I think this is the best move for the band." She pulls back at Brendon and looks at him with raised eyebrows.
Brendon's childish grin fades, and she can see his spine straighten. She wants to ruffle his hair and coo, just because she's known him for over four years and she knows how much effort it takes for him to go serious. It would be counter-productive, though, so she doesn't.
"Ross," he calls. "Get in here. Walker's making band decisions without consulting the rest of us."
Jon punches his shoulder because if there's one thing that Ryan still cannot abide, it's not having an utter handle of everything in his band.
Spencer gets off the floor and sits on the couch across from them, pressed to one side. She tries to catch his eye, to see if he understands, but he's still not looking anywhere near her.
Ryan pads out of the bunks in his velor pants and paisley shirt--he's transitioning into a completely white, blue, and black color palette, and it reminds Jon of Picasso a lot--and sits with his legs in Spencer's lap. "What are you doing, Jon?" He sounds vaguely accusing as much as Ryan ever sounds anything.
"I'm thinking of moving to Vegas." She's not thinking; she knows, wants out of Chicago. It's still home, in the way that her twin bed in the front bedroom at her parents' house is still hers. She hasn't slept there for years, but her mom keeps Lion King sheets on it, just in case. Vegas isn't home, but it feels like it could be because this bus is home. When the tour is over and they spill everything out, all the parts that make it home aren't going to be packed in her suitcase for Chicago. She knows it will only take three days before she can't take the quiet, before Hugh Laurie becomes annoying and she needs to hear Brendon singing Oasis while he makes (burns) waffles in the morning.
Ryan blinks and looks at Spencer. It's the mind-twin thing, and Spencer's shoulders square a little. He looks at Jon, finally.
"This isn't just because of Cass, right?" Spencer asks.
Jon wants to hit him.
"No, Spencer. I just don't... It's part-Cass, okay, but I just want to do it. I think I need to." Jon shrugs and looks at Ryan.
He looks back at her. "It's stupid for you to get a place by yourself. You might not like it." Ryan chews on his lip and dips his head down. He doesn't offer his guest room, and Jon notices.
"She could shuttle between us, I guess," Brendon offers. He pulls her close. "Shane won't mind."
Jon rolls her eyes. "Dylan will mind. She needs stability. She's a kitty from a broken-home." Dylan never seemed to like Clover, but Jon didn't miss how Dylan mewled for a day and a half when Cass left with the cat carrier.
Ryan's forehead wrinkles, shares another Look with Spencer. "Yeah. That's true."
They sit in quiet, wheels humming under their feet. There's something in the way that Ryan keeps digging his heels into Spencer's leg. Jon notices, because every time Spencer reaches over to flick at Ryan like they're five still. She doesn't ask and just leans on Brendon's shoulder, at the warm honey smell of his skin. He uses some sort of organic bar soap, and she may have a bar of it in the shower in Chicago.
It's Spencer who finally says, "So I'm selling my house. And it's mostly because of Haley." He looks at Jon again. "I bought it for her, so it's just--"
"It feels like her a lot?" Jon says, and something in her voice makes Brendon press a kiss to her temple. She tries to keep her eyes on Spencer, but Brendon's warm and they did laundry recently, so his shirt is soft.
"Yeah." It's been less time for Spencer, and she wants to pull him into her Brendon-hug, if only to ease the almost-pain in that one word. She does, at least, pull away from Brendon. He looks young next to Ryan, younger than he's looked since he decided to grow out the beard. "So I'm selling it, and we could get a place together, maybe."
"Some place closer to me and Ryan," Brendon interjects. He's never quite gotten over that you really have to take a car to Spencer's house from his.
Spencer ducks his head. Jon knows that he still feels bad about Ryan having to go to Brendon's for showers instead of his house, because Ryan and Spencer always talked about living together. "Yes, Brendon, closer to you."
Jon looks at Ryan's stupid, hopeful face. It doesn't look much different than his default, but Jon knows that this is something he wants but won't ask for. Brendon's less subtle, almost bouncing beside her before he busts out with, "Dude, it'll be like the single's pad for the band. It's an awesome idea."
Their eyes meet, Jon's and Spencer's, and when Brendon puts it like that, she knows it's a bad idea, but.
There would be someone else there, and things wouldn't feel so lonely. She could wake up in the middle of the night and tell Spencer about her dream or put on shoes and maybe walk to Ryan's condo because he would still be awake. There would be a reason to buy a new mattress (because Jon doesn't believe in throwing out perfectly good furniture, rock star or not), and they could work on stuff in their house if they wanted. She wouldn't have to live out of a suitcase in Ryan's guest room because he still doesn't have dressers.
"It is an awesome idea," she says, slowly.
Spencer gives her a half-smile. "Maybe."
"Dude, no more having to visit Jon in the middle of January and freezing your balls off?" Brendon sort of scramble-slides onto the other couch, on top of Spencer and Ryan's legs. "Of course it is."
Excerpt
Rating: PG-13
A/N: girl!Jon. I just felt like writing a little snippet to (what feels like) this epic story that I have almost planned out. Sometimes I like to skip ahead to a scene that makes me happy after a sort of crappy day.
It's somewhere between Portland and Seattle, three weeks before the Solar Equinox tour is finishes, that Jon walks in on Brendon and Spencer playing Guitar Hero and says, "I think I might break my lease and buy a place in Vegas."
Brendon drops his guitar controller and stands up, rushing over to her like she's announced her water broke. "Jon, Jon Walker, you cannot move to Vegas. We don't have snow or a football team. What will you do without the Bears, Jon Walker?" He puts his hands on her elbows and tries to lure her to the couch.
She shakes her head and looks at Spencer. He's very carefully looking at the X-box, putting his controller back where Ryan won't go into an apoplectic fit from seeing it. He takes the game out of the system and puts it on his shelf.
"I can wear sandals all year round," she says to Brendon without looking away from Spencer's hands and careful fingers. She doesn't say that, last time she was there, she couldn't sleep in her bed. The mattress was soaked through with the smell of Cass and his stupid aftershave. It was over a year ago, now, but tour life made her terminally incapable of sleeping without someone around. House on DVD, just to have voices to fall asleep to, seemed sadder than knowing she could probably throw out the cat toys that Dylan never played with.
"What will Tom think? And Bill?" Brendon stays close and warm until she's pressed against the sofa and he can curl up beside her. "And who will watch Ryan for us, if you have your own place? We need someone to Ryan-sit when Keltie's not there." He sits up, shifting onto his knees. "That's what you can do. Ryan has a guest room. You can stay for a week and just never leave until you miss snow. You're totally going to miss that."
She is, but there's her parent's house, or Tom's, or a hundred other couches and guest rooms that will always be open for her. There's also running into Cass at their old favorite diners and wanting to ask him how Clover is, if he--Clover, not Cass--misses her. There's Christmas and holidays, and there isn't a band there. The distance gets harder every time they take a break. She lasted a week into the last one before she flew out and took over Ryan's guest room.
"I think this is the best move for the band." She pulls back at Brendon and looks at him with raised eyebrows.
Brendon's childish grin fades, and she can see his spine straighten. She wants to ruffle his hair and coo, just because she's known him for over four years and she knows how much effort it takes for him to go serious. It would be counter-productive, though, so she doesn't.
"Ross," he calls. "Get in here. Walker's making band decisions without consulting the rest of us."
Jon punches his shoulder because if there's one thing that Ryan still cannot abide, it's not having an utter handle of everything in his band.
Spencer gets off the floor and sits on the couch across from them, pressed to one side. She tries to catch his eye, to see if he understands, but he's still not looking anywhere near her.
Ryan pads out of the bunks in his velor pants and paisley shirt--he's transitioning into a completely white, blue, and black color palette, and it reminds Jon of Picasso a lot--and sits with his legs in Spencer's lap. "What are you doing, Jon?" He sounds vaguely accusing as much as Ryan ever sounds anything.
"I'm thinking of moving to Vegas." She's not thinking; she knows, wants out of Chicago. It's still home, in the way that her twin bed in the front bedroom at her parents' house is still hers. She hasn't slept there for years, but her mom keeps Lion King sheets on it, just in case. Vegas isn't home, but it feels like it could be because this bus is home. When the tour is over and they spill everything out, all the parts that make it home aren't going to be packed in her suitcase for Chicago. She knows it will only take three days before she can't take the quiet, before Hugh Laurie becomes annoying and she needs to hear Brendon singing Oasis while he makes (burns) waffles in the morning.
Ryan blinks and looks at Spencer. It's the mind-twin thing, and Spencer's shoulders square a little. He looks at Jon, finally.
"This isn't just because of Cass, right?" Spencer asks.
Jon wants to hit him.
"No, Spencer. I just don't... It's part-Cass, okay, but I just want to do it. I think I need to." Jon shrugs and looks at Ryan.
He looks back at her. "It's stupid for you to get a place by yourself. You might not like it." Ryan chews on his lip and dips his head down. He doesn't offer his guest room, and Jon notices.
"She could shuttle between us, I guess," Brendon offers. He pulls her close. "Shane won't mind."
Jon rolls her eyes. "Dylan will mind. She needs stability. She's a kitty from a broken-home." Dylan never seemed to like Clover, but Jon didn't miss how Dylan mewled for a day and a half when Cass left with the cat carrier.
Ryan's forehead wrinkles, shares another Look with Spencer. "Yeah. That's true."
They sit in quiet, wheels humming under their feet. There's something in the way that Ryan keeps digging his heels into Spencer's leg. Jon notices, because every time Spencer reaches over to flick at Ryan like they're five still. She doesn't ask and just leans on Brendon's shoulder, at the warm honey smell of his skin. He uses some sort of organic bar soap, and she may have a bar of it in the shower in Chicago.
It's Spencer who finally says, "So I'm selling my house. And it's mostly because of Haley." He looks at Jon again. "I bought it for her, so it's just--"
"It feels like her a lot?" Jon says, and something in her voice makes Brendon press a kiss to her temple. She tries to keep her eyes on Spencer, but Brendon's warm and they did laundry recently, so his shirt is soft.
"Yeah." It's been less time for Spencer, and she wants to pull him into her Brendon-hug, if only to ease the almost-pain in that one word. She does, at least, pull away from Brendon. He looks young next to Ryan, younger than he's looked since he decided to grow out the beard. "So I'm selling it, and we could get a place together, maybe."
"Some place closer to me and Ryan," Brendon interjects. He's never quite gotten over that you really have to take a car to Spencer's house from his.
Spencer ducks his head. Jon knows that he still feels bad about Ryan having to go to Brendon's for showers instead of his house, because Ryan and Spencer always talked about living together. "Yes, Brendon, closer to you."
Jon looks at Ryan's stupid, hopeful face. It doesn't look much different than his default, but Jon knows that this is something he wants but won't ask for. Brendon's less subtle, almost bouncing beside her before he busts out with, "Dude, it'll be like the single's pad for the band. It's an awesome idea."
Their eyes meet, Jon's and Spencer's, and when Brendon puts it like that, she knows it's a bad idea, but.
There would be someone else there, and things wouldn't feel so lonely. She could wake up in the middle of the night and tell Spencer about her dream or put on shoes and maybe walk to Ryan's condo because he would still be awake. There would be a reason to buy a new mattress (because Jon doesn't believe in throwing out perfectly good furniture, rock star or not), and they could work on stuff in their house if they wanted. She wouldn't have to live out of a suitcase in Ryan's guest room because he still doesn't have dressers.
"It is an awesome idea," she says, slowly.
Spencer gives her a half-smile. "Maybe."
"Dude, no more having to visit Jon in the middle of January and freezing your balls off?" Brendon sort of scramble-slides onto the other couch, on top of Spencer and Ryan's legs. "Of course it is."