Team Brendon: All is Fair in Love and War
Something Different That Interrupts



It had been a long day; the sun was just going down, and the warm summer breeze that was gambolling leaves along the pavement had gained a sharper edge to it, signalling the start of autumn. Brendon shivered a little, making himself bite down on the straw in his mouth, crushing it so much he couldn’t actually drink through it any more. He set the smoothie down next to him on the wall, looking down the street to the red glow sinking in the sky.
It reminded him of the time he’d spent over the summer down at the beach. Often he would go with friends, but sometimes in was just him and Audrey; his sweet, pretty little Audrey, her salt-matted hair, sand brushed across her skin like stardust, her lips tasting like the ocean...
Of course, these weren’t the only moments he cherished; Brendon’s best friend was called Brent, and he considered it to be his greatest friendship especially since the first four letters in their name were the same. That was, like, a sign, right?
He hadn’t seen his Audrey or Brent (his Brent) for days now, since everyone was getting ready to go back to school; the three of them would be starting their junior year together, and Brendon couldn’t wait. Each semester that passed meant he was getting closer to finishing school, and he had so many plans – he wanted to train to get some medical training, move away, maybe even take Audrey with him and settle down somewhere. The junior year would also mean some new faces; Palo Verde High School had a prestigious tech programme, and in the junior year some new students would transfer there to take something tech-y as their major.
Brendon sighed gently, and jumped down off the wall. He smoothed out his church jacket and straightened out his tie, knowing his parents wouldn’t be happy if he looked like he’d been anywhere else but church, and he set off home.

Brendon’s alarm went off at 8 promptly every day, but he was so used to it that he woke up every day five minutes before it. He dressed quickly, and went downstairs to find a note from his mother taped to the fridge, instructing him to eat something healthy for breakfast, and that there was fruit in the fridge, and that he shouldn’t forget his book bag or be late because this was an important year and if he screwed up on the first day so help her god--
He tossed the crumpled note in the trash, and snatched a muffin from the counter, feeling slightly justified that there were blueberries in there alongside the white chocolate chunks. As he made his way out the door with his bag slung over one shoulder he stooped to pick the paper off the porch, leaving his half-eaten illegal breakfast muffin in its place. He flicked through the pages, his eyes alighting on the community event listings, just in case anything interesting was happening.
-and this weekend we’ll be hosting some of the best up and coming bands on the scene, and i’m sure we’re all excited to see the best thing to come out of Chicago in years, Fall Out B--
Brendon was sharply jolted out of his train of thought when his own muffin hit him in the head.
“DUDE!” Brent jogged up to him, clearly out of breath and his hair straggling in his eyes, “i’ve been yelling after you since you left your house. What are you deaf or something?”
“I was just busy... “Brendon rolled his eyes, and carried on walking.
“Oh really? Being a moron takes a lot of effort, huh?” Brent got socked in the arm for that one.
“No, I was being intellectual!” Brendon waved the paper in Brent’s face, bringing his friend face to face with a giant car sales ad.
“Brent snatched the paper away, guffawing, “i’ll bet you weren’t! All you’ve had on your mind these past few weeks is your girlfriend. I’d find it easy to believe, actually, if you weren’t such a homo.”
“YOU’RE a homo.”
“Fuck off.”
It was Brent’s turn to take a swipe, but he missed. “Such lovely words for a good little Mormon boy...”
“Whatever,” Brendon shrugged, “i’m not the one who left my backpack on the porch.”
“Fuckkk—“

Eventually the pair had reached Palo Verde High, and they were now sitting in homeroom. Everyone was talking, swapping stories of the past summer – boasts of whirlwhind romances from the guys, and whispered confessions of romance among the girls. Brendon was oblivious, as Audrey was curled in his lap, pressing gentle kisses to his cheek.
“Okay guys, settle down, settle down, HEY! Settle down... Okay, good, we’ve got a new student joining our class,” the teacher turned, and moved the boy standing behind her forward.
“Everybody, this is George-“ “-Ryan-“ “Ross. Say hi, everyone.” A half hearted murmur went up from the class.
Brent leaned over. “Wow, he looks like fun, huh?”
Brendon giggled, looking at the guy standing awkwardly at the front of the class. He was almost painfully thin, dressed in well pressed slacks and worn boots, a waistcoat over a grey-blue shirt, and-
Brown eyes, looking right at him.
Brendon quickly looked away, feeling an unusual guilty jolt in his stomach. Guilt? Why the hell should he feel guilt? He was just looking at the guy, after all. Still, he felt uncomfortable, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He looked over at Audrey, who looked back at him smiling her precious smile, and felt he felt even worse.

The whole morning was a usual one for Brendon; he’d caught up with other friends, made jokes, and told everyone about the dates he’d been on with his sweet darling Audrey. Then he turned a corner, and the new kid was waiting for him.
“Hi.”
“Uh. Hi... Can I help you?” Brendon was trying to switch the books in his bag for the ones he’d put in his locker earlier, and was failing.
“Yeah, you can – we have the same Lit class, but, I can’t find it...” They both looked down as a landslide sent books crashing to the floor.
“Oh – No problem- Let me just, ah—“ Brendon had managed to pick up the books, but he had to hold everything else in his locker in place using his knee. He put his lock in his mouth, and there was a tense moment as Brendon paused, prepared himself, moved his knee and quickly slammed the locker door shut. He looked at the new kid George, wasn’t it?) and tried to ignore the sound of his stuff hitting the inside of the metal door.
The lock, Brendon, the lock.
He quickly fixed it in place, and picked up his bag. George was looking at him like he was insane; that was okay, Brendon felt insane.
As they made their way down the hall towards the Literature class they were now sharing inevitably for the rest of the year, Brendon tried to make conversation.
“So, George-“
“Ryan. Call me Ryan.”
“Yeah, right, sorry,” Brendon looked around, as if the answer to this obviously hurtful faux pas was glued to a wall somewhere. His throat felt dry, like his breath was burning him. “So, have you just moved here?”
“Yeah.”
Wow, this new guy sure was chatty. Brendon wanted to chat to him. He wanted to ask where Ryan was from, what music he liked, and how he learned that wonderful ability to drive perfectly rational people out of their minds on sight. Things remained quiet the rest of the way, even though Brendon kept trying to think of things to say, desperately searching for any inch of small talk, but there really was nothing. All he had to do was get to class, then he could sit as far away from George/Ryan as possible and everything would be fine and normal and dandy.
The theory that it really wasn’t his day was proved, when the only empty seat was next to Brendon. Whose idea was it anyway that group tables created better learning environments?

They could take their “group inspiration” and go fuck themselves.

The class settled down to their assignments, and Brendon kept his eyes on the paper in front of him. Firmly fixed. Not looking any where else. Not up, not down, not left, and definitely not to his right, where a skinny arm was brushing his own and sending a shiver down his spine that made him feel-
What? Excited? Nervous?
This guy had barely said a word in the never-ending walk through the halls, but five minutes after the room had gone quiet a scrap of paper was pushed into Brendon’s peripheral vision. His eyes flicked to it anxiously, and he used the end of his pen to drag the note on top of his own paper.

What are we doing?

Fuck. Ryan must’ve noticed Brendon’s odd behaviour. He knows there’s something going on and obviously wanted an explanation, but Brendon didn’t have one. He did what any other man would do, and feigned ignorance.

What d’you mean?

He pushed the paper back with his pen, not looking up, and focussed back on the paper he was supposed to be writing:

"John Lyly wrote that "the rules of fair play do not apply in love and war” (Euphues), and it has become one of the most famo-"

The scrap of paper reappeared. Brendon reached out with one finger, slowly sliding it back towards himself with a minor amount of dread.

This paper. What the hell is the question? Teacher never told me. She’s obviously good at her job.

Brendon snorted, then felt red heat creeping up his cheeks. How very, very geeky of him. He quickly wrote out the question, pushed it back, then put an arm round his work to prevent any further fun interruptions.
He continued to write, but he had no idea what any of the words said; Brendon was going out of his mind, and he’d only been at school for a couple of hours. He needed to get out, to Brent, to Audrey, touch base and hang out and kiss his girlfriend . Only an hour to lunch.
One hour.
Sixty minutes.
Thirty-six hundred seconds.
Of complete, weird, scary, horrible, mind-fuckery.

The second the lunch bell rang, Brendon was out of his seat and heading for the door. It was only when he got to the canteen that he realised Ryan had followed him. Brent and Audrey were already seated so, when Brendon made his way over with his new friend, the two of them carrying their lunch trays in heavy silence, he was met with two amused faces prepared to ask questions.
He took a deep breath ready to rebut any witty remarks coming his way, but was cut off much to his surprise by...
“Hi, i’m Ryan,” and he reached out his hand to Audrey. She took it, and gave her name too, then the pair started talking. Having an actual conversation. Brendon stared incredulously at this, this boy as he asked Audrey, his Audrey, all about music and her studies and life in Vegas.
“You know what, since you don’t know the area very well, why don’t you come out with us tonight, Ry?”
“No!” They all looked up at Brendon, at his scared face, and at his lunch which got thrown across the table as he stood up.
“...Brenny, what’s wrong?” Audrey was still holding her sandwich, and it was just hanging in mid-air, the mayo dripping out of onto the table. Brendon felt anger twist in his stomach, and for the moment it was all about the mayo. He was breathing deep and heavy, and he was frantically searching for a napkin.
Brent got up, and grabbed his arm, “okayyy, me and ‘Brenny’ are just going to go find a napkin somewhere else. Brendon. Come on.”
He let himself be dragged off into the men’s bathroom; he could feel Brent looking at him, but he turned away, and washed his hands.
“Seriously man, what the fuck is going on with you?” Brent’s little pose, hands on his hips and eyes wide, was reflected in the mirror.
“Nothing man,” Brendon turned off the tap, “I just don’t see why he’s being all friendly all of a sudden. Or why you’re being friends with him.”
“He’s new! And why shouldn’t we be friends with him? God, ever since you saw him the morning you’ve been acting like you’ve got PMS—“ Brendon set the dryer off, drowning out his friend’s rant. Brent threw his arms up despairingly.
“I’m just saying!” Brendon yelled, competing with the dryer. “He’s hardly said a word to me all day! Why’s he being so nice all of a sudden, huh?! Seems weird to me!”
“YOU’RE WEIRD!” The dryer clicked off just before Brent yelled his insult, making it seem ridiculously loud. “He’s coming out with us, get over it. Loser.”
“You’re a loser.”

Math was actually a subject Brendon quite enjoyed, but he spent the rest of the school day sulking. Even when Audrey threw her arms round him at the end of the day and asked for a ride home like she always did, the mood he was in, he didn’t find it cute, just stupid.
He went home, where another note was waiting for him. Something about ‘church’ and ‘money by phone’ and ‘takeout’. Wow, I feel so loved. At least he could get ready without any disturbance.
It took him longer than usual; every pair of jeans didn’t fit quite right, every shirt looked off, and none of his shoes went with anything he owned. He settled on a pair of black jeans, brown leather boots, and a button down shirt. He looked in the mirror, unbuttoning the top shirt button, doing it back up, unbuttoning two...
I look like a Brokeback Mountain extra. Fantastic.
His phone went off. It was Brent, asking where the hell he was. With no more time to change, and knowing that even if he did he wouldn’t be happy with it, Brendon grabbed a jacket and his keys and left.

By the time Brendon reached the gig venue, Brent was outside smoking. He looked old for his age, so no-one questioned it. He greeted Brendon with a nod and, “dude, where were you, Ry and Audrey are inside.”
Brendon felt his stomach twist a little. So that was Ryan’s game, was it? He hurried inside, and saw the two of them standing under the wrought iron stairs that led to the upper level. The glow from a spotlight filtered through the gaps in the stairs, casting a subtle gold quality over the two. Ryan was leaning in, his left hand on Audrey’s waist as he whispered something in her ear, his other hand gesturing at an angle and nearly spilling the drink clasped in it.
Brendon couldn’t believe what he was seeing as Audrey giggled, bringing her hand first to her mouth, then resting it on Ryan’s chest as she shook. Whatever he said, it better have been really fucking funny, or Brendon was going to... To...
“Brendon! We’ve been waiting for you for aggges!” Audrey threw her arms around his neck, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Yeah, you look really distraught.” As he said it, Brendon knew it was harsh, and he earned a confused frown from his girlfriend. Then she had a hand pulling her back – Ryan’s hand – and something else was whispered. Audrey nodded and pointed towards the bathroom. Ryan didn’t meet Brendon’s eyes as he walked off, their shoulders colliding together in a highly mature display of testosterone.
“What was that about?” Audrey was pulling him down onto the love seat in the corner, but he shied away from her hoping she wouldn’t notice. She obviously did, and she looked hurt.
“Nothing. Its personal.” Brendon looked around for the drink she apparently hadn’t ordered him because she was having such a great fucking time with Ryan.
“Did you know Ryan’s really into the Beatles? Yeah, he can play a million instruments, and he’s always wanted to go to London so he can do that road crossing photo thing, and he-“
“Can we talk about something else?” Brendon sighed, huffed, stemming Audrey’s flow of Ryan-worship.
“Oh, okay. Um...” The two of them sat, looking at each other. So this is it, is it? Our entire relationship is now redundant, because we have literally nothing else left to say to each other. I’m probably going to have to marry her anyway, we’ve been going out forever. This is what the rest of my life is going to be, with her, one long hollow pause of withheld anger...
Ryan made his way back to their little corner, closely followed by a smoke-reeking Brent. Brendon put his arm round Audrey protectively. Yes, he may have just decided that he now hates the girl he was planning on spending the rest of his life with only yesterday, but she was still his, and Ryan couldn’t have her.
“Hey! I was just telling Brendon about much you love the Beatles...” Audrey looked at Brendon, then squeezed Brendon’s knee, as if to say, talk, you moron.
“Uh. Yeah.” Despite the lack of enthusiasm in Brendon’s answer, Ryan turned his attention to him.
“You like them too? What’s you’re favourite song?” There he was, brown doe eyes staring expectantly.
Bastard.
“They’re okay,” I love the Beatles.”...and I don’t really have a favourite.Eight Days A Week.
“Oh. Okay.” A silence fell over them; out of the corner of his eye, he saw the intruder look at Audrey, who’s eyes went wide as she shrugged and shook her head. Oh, something was clearly going on here.
“H-how are you getting on with that Lit paper? Did you write any more when you got home?” Ryan’s question seemed, earnest enough, but to Brendon it felt like he was saying ‘you were home, you were late, and I was here all over your girl’.
“I got the definition done. You know, two people, contending for the love of a third, often involving unpleasant behaviour that is unfair and completely unfuckingacceptable.”
Now this is what a proper awkward silence feels like. Those other moments were just shams; things aren’t really weird until someone gets threatened.
The silence grew longer, until Ryan and Audrey picked up their conversation where they left off. Brendon watched them bitterly, talking away, leaning close, Ryan’s hand placed on her leg...
That was the last straw.
He got up, and walked out, ignoring the calls of his friends, the grip of his girlfriend on his arm.

A week passed, then another, and another, where he ignored phone calls, avoided them all in school, and got told off constantly in class for listening to music. Music to drown out the annoying pleas to listen, please just listen, for five minutes.
Brendon was too busy with his own thoughts to deal with theirs.
For the first week, he was angry – fuck them, they screwed me over, I can do so much better, just got to get out of this hellhole...
For the second week, he was depressed – oh god, what have I done, i’m an idiot, I love Audrey, Ryan’s a good guy...
By the third week, he was just confused – what had this all been about anyway? One minute he was madly in love with Audrey, and happy with his life, then this Ryan turned up, and destroyed everything in a day. That’s it; he had to talk to Ryan, it was his fault, so he must have answers. That Friday, he left note in Ryan’s locker, telling him to meet him for lunch on Saturday.

It was just a greasy diner, not much in the way of vegetarian food apart from fries and milkshakes, so that’s what Brendon ordered; then, he sat and waited.
For a moment, he thought Ryan wasn’t going to show, but then he saw him nervously come in through the diner’s lurid plexiglass door – closely followed by Brent and Audrey. Brendon felt betrayed as Ryan made his way over to the table, but the others went and sat at the counter.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
So... You wanted to talk?”
Brendon took a long drink of his milkshake, swallowed. “Are you dating Audrey?”
“...What? No!” Ryan looked uncomfortable. Brendon felt... not as pleased as he thought he would be at making Ryan squirm.
“Why are you always flirting with her? Huh?”
“I’m not flirting with her-“
“You are!” Brendon slammed his glass down. “I sat and watched you ask a million questions about me, mocking me, while you were all over her!”
“No – Listen carefully; i’m not flirting with her.” Ryan inclined his head meaningfully.
Brendon just sat, completely confused. Who was</> he flirting with, then? Ryan’s eyes scrunched tight, and he shuffled in his seat. He took a breath like he was about to speak, then didn’t. Another breath, then a sigh. Finally he brought his arms, palm up, onto the table, as if he was begging.
Brendon was still confused.
“Look; Audrey told me you two have been together since forever, but she also told me that, you know, you haven’t... done... anything... and- well- she’s alwaysbeensuspiciousthatyou’rkindofgay-”
Ryan paused, waiting for the incredulous denial, but Brendon just sat there, staring down at the table.
It looks like he’d gotten his answer, just not the one he was expecting. Its true, he loved Audrey, but they’d only ever kissed, and often at his own instigation. Yeah, she’d curl up in his lap and tell him how much she loved him, but it often just made him uncomfortable. This was evidently the plan, since she thought he was ‘kindof gay’.
By this point the other s had made their way over to the table. Audrey reached out for Brendon’s hand as she sat down next to him.
“Honey... I didn’t want to say anything. Really I didn’t, I wanted you to deal with this yourself, but then I saw how you reacted to Ryan – just after a day - and I knew there was going to be problems...”
“Its okay. I’m. I’m just gonna need. A moment. For a few hours.”
Brendon was still staring at the table. He could see how close Ryan’s hands were to his, and felt his stomach sink as they were pulled away.
“Dude, we’re fine with this. Everyone will be. Look, we’ll give you some time, and if you’re up to it later, you can meet us at the Fall Out Boy thing? I told him how much you’re in love with Pete Wentz and Ry queued for like, nine hours to get us tickets...”
Brendon looked up at Brent with the same stunned expression he’d been wearing since his sexuality had hit him over the head with brick, then at Ryan, who was looking sheepish.
“Y-yeah. Okay.” He nodded. He could deal with this. He really could. The other three were leaving Brendon to think in the diner, when Ryan hurried back to the table. He hesitated, then fished a piece of paper out of his pocket and crushed it into Brendon’s hand, squeezing slightly. Ryan smiled at him, then hurried off.

Brendon took the paper home with him, and read it in his room. He laughed so hard, he was crying. Then he got dressed, everything looked so perfect, and made his way to the gig.
Everyone was exactly where they were a month ago, in their little corner under the stairs. This time Brendon saw Ryan, his brown eyes taking on a honey glow under the spotlight, and he felt his insides buzzing. Brendon went straight over, and laced his fingers with Ryan’s, who turned to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. Brendon had left the note stuck to his mirror:

”All's fair in love and war means that whatever method you choose to get someone to be attracted to you will get them attracted against all logic. That person's heart will belong to you and because of that, your method is valid.”

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