Sugarcane Chronicles Volume I: One and Lonely (ryden)

Drunken Tattooed Hearts

I had asked Patrick where I could find a piano and he told me there was a ballroom off the lobby that had one. I looked at it through the windows in the doors later that day. It was perfect.

I talked to one of the ladies up front about playing it and when I told her what I needed it for, she told me it was open the next night, Sunday. I thanked her and went up to the room to be with Ryan.

We slept in separate beds that night, but held hands over the table between the beds.

The next day, I snuck in the ballroom and practiced a little and it sounded amazing. I planned on it being just me and him in there, the room barely lit. Patrick and the gang would lead him in there and I would pour my heart into the song.

It was kind of very hard to keep from telling Ryan about it. I would just keep slipping up and stuff related to the song and the ballroom kept popping up.

But when the time came, everything was perfect. The room was brilliantly lit, candles being placed perfectly, the plan being executed well, my blazer without a single wrinkle.

I took a deep breath as the door opened. I heard Pete encouraging and pushing Ryan in the room.

I could see his cute little confused face even in the dim lighting. He saw me and squinted. "Brendon?" he asked.

I nodded, taking a step closer and holding my hand out for him to take.

"What's going on?" he asked, grabbing my hand.

I said nothing, just led him to the bar stool (that I stole from the bar (don't look at me like that it was for love)) in front of the piano. I walked around to the bench of the piano and sat down.

Tattooed Heart by Ariana Grande was the song I played. It just perfectly summed up all feelings I had.

By the end, Ryan was crying and I was quite teary-eyed myself. We stood and walked to meet each other. He hugged me and I kissed him. We kissed for a while until I pulled him out of the room and to the elevators, to which we continued kissing in. When we got to our floor we stopped kissing so I could unlock the door, then continued after I had closed it. He pushed me into the back room and onto the bed with our lips still attached. His hands made their way down to the rim of my blazer, but I stopped him. He pulled away and looked at me.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, looking at his eyes.

He looked down for a moment before looking back up to meet my eyes. "Yes."

We both smiled a little and continued kissing. He took off my blazer as I unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. My shirt came off soon after that and we kicked off our shoes.

He started kissing my neck and I whimpered, tightening my grip on his slender hips. I started trying to undo his belt, but I couldn't figure out how to. He had started laughing a little and took it off for me, telling me I just had the press the button in the middle, "like a seatbelt." I had started laughing a little too because "how could I be so stupid?".

When the giggles calmed down, we continued kissing until eventually our pants came off.

*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*

Monday came and were as close as ever. We were cutesy and held hands and barely baby-talked, but did occasionally. Meanwhile, Patrick was getting worse with interrupting and seemed to be getting Bronx involved. We could barely kiss before Bronx would come in asking for us to do something with him (we couldn't swear him out like we did Patrick (and plus, how could you say no to that face?)).

So it ended up being an endless cycle. We'd get close, Patrick would show up. Think about it, Bronx would. It was weird.

But anyways, Tuesday(?) night, we were all down at the bar (Patrick, Ryan, me) and were just enjoying each other's company, and the drinks, too much. I vaguely remember talking about my performance and Patrick told me both he and Pete cried. Then we got on to the subject of tattoos and I can't really remember anything past that.

I woke up with a gross headache and stinging pain in my nose. I squinted at the seemingly very bright room, seeing Ryan asleep on the floor, then noticed something shiny on my nose where the pain had been coming from.

Had I...?

I sat up quickly, then regretted it and stood up slowly. Surely I hadn't gotten a nose ring.

I stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the light, only to close my eyes from squinting. I shielded my eyes and caught a glimpse of myself.

I really had.

I had gotten a drunken nose ring.

I groaned, then walked out of the bathroom, turning the light out. I walked back into the bed room room and did us both a favor and closed the curtains.

I lay back down and hated myself until Ryan woke up.

"Wha...?" I heard him groan. "Why... Why am I in the floor? That carpet tastes horrible."

I giggled, then regretted it. Owwww.

I saw him get up and rush to the bathroom. The noises that followed were unpleasant.

I got up and went over towards the TV stand, where we kept the bottle of aspirin and got the correct amount for each of us. As I walked to the bathroom, I picked up a bottle of water for us to share.

"Oh, my God," I heard him mumble from outside the door.

"It's ok, Ry," I said, stepping in and placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's just a hangover. We'll be alright in a few hours. Just take this." I held the bottle of water out for him to take.

"No," he said, turning around in front of the mirror. "Look at my back."

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked as he turned and put his face in his hands. On his back was a fresh tattoo (I could tell because the skin was red and puffy) of the clouds from the cover of The Fault in Our Stars.

"Oh, my God," I said, covering my mouth with one hand, trying not to laugh.

"Don't laugh at me," he said.

I apologized and we took the aspirin I had gotten for us. Then I figured we should take some to Patrick.

Just as we were walking through the living area to the connecting doors, Patrick barged in.

"Please tell me you guys have bad drunk tattoos, too," he said.

Ryan turned around and I pointed to my nose ring.

"Alright, that makes me feel a little better but," he started, then held out his arm, "look."

On his arm was written (in a pretty cool font), '17/8/2008'.

"I don't get it," I said. "What's bad about it?"

"Yeah, it can't be as bad as mine," Ryan said.

"Well, it was supposed to be the date of when Pete and Jon found me and Spencer, but," he pointed to the month, "dude got the numbers mixed up. There's no such thing as a seventeenth month!"

"That's how they do numbers here," Ryan said.

"Oh," he said. "But it's still weird."

We gave him some aspirin and then we found sunglasses and went down for coffee. We found an equally-as-hungover Pete hunched over french fries at a table downstairs. He told us that they really helped with hangovers, then proceeded to swat our hands away when we tried to grab some and grouchily told us to get our own.

We had a day of touring London and I remembered to remind Ryan to tell Spencer about Vic. He told me he would get it later and I believed him because my headache got worse and I didn't feel like pressuring him.

We had walked past the bar that morning, vowing to never drink again.

We had a few drinks that night.

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so we had a busy-ish day. sorry this wasn't up sooner

if you don't know the Ariana Grande song Brendon sang, you can look it up. we are planning on putting the video with this chapter tomorrow for you guys.

hope you enjoyed