Pretenders

Mr. Big Pants

Walking around the Long Beach Target department store with Ryan had become one of Chester's favorite things to do. It got him out of his tiny apartment, and they didn't even have to spend any money to have fun as they went aisle by aisle, picking things up and making comments before putting it down and moving onto the next entertaining thing.

Of course one of them usually almost always ended up buying something. A new can opener. A package of paper towels. A birthday card or glow in the dark shoe laces. But it was small, everyday stuff that didn't cost much, and Chester was happy about that. Getting divorced was expensive, and even though he was now five months officially single, his bank account was a fraction of what it used to be. What he'd worked so hard to make it be.

But he wasn't letting his lack of funds bring him down tonight as he and Ryan wandered around the store. They'd smoked a little weed earlier, sitting on Ryan's couch and passing a hash pipe back and forth. The high had pretty much settled, but Chester was still feeling good, and that was the way he liked it. It was date night with Mike, and in a few hours he would be pigging out with the emcee and watching his favorite movie: The Princess Bride.

Well. If he could find a copy of it. "I still can't believe Sam had the nerve to take all my fucking movies," he grumbled as he and Ryan took their time making it to the electronics section at the back of the store, where the DVDS would be. "She doesn't even like The Princess Bride. Why keep that one?" he asked, glancing Ryan's way as they picked through lines of office supplies neither of them needed. Ryan was studying a notepad with kittens on it, and it made Chester smile for half a second. Ryan, with his jet black hair, black leather jacket, over six foot frame, and scruffy jawline, would be the one between the two of them to buy a kitten notepad. That was just Ryan - a sweetheart who looked like he could punch you out in a bar fight. "Just to hurt me," Chester spit, before picking up a pink stapler, turning it over in his hands. "That's why. She knows I love it, so it's just one more way to stick it to me."

Ryan didn't miss the bitter look on Chester's face. His friend had been through a lot over the last several months. Sometimes Chester talked about his ex-wife rather fondly, remenicing about good times, and the wild sex they would have. But most of the time it was hurt feelings that came out, especially once bills from the lawyer started coming in and after Sam had kicked him from their shared Hollywood mansion. It was no secret Chester hated the small apartment he'd ended up in, and so Ryan was always happy to take him out. Always ready to offer for him to stay over when he needed a break from the apartment with the leaky kitchen faucet and cheap futon couch.

"I'm not saying anything," he said as he held onto the kitten notepad and moved down a step. "If I agree with you, you'll just hate me for it later."

"Do I do that?" Chester asked earnestly as he turned to face Ryan, the pink stapler cradled in both hands. "Do I?"

Ryan shrugged. "Sometimes," he offered, looking Chester's way. They were out in public, but Chester was far away from Linkin Park duties. That meant there were no bodyguards around, no PR people telling him what to do. It was nice to get to hang out with his friend in such a relaxed way, away from the crowds and limelight. Chester had his black framed glasses on - an easy way to hide in plain sight when it came to people recognizing him. He had on a pair of oversized khaki pants, and a white t-shirt with an open blue and gray flannel shirt overtop, hiding his notoriously recognizable blue and red flame tattoos on his forearms. A backwards facing ball cap filled out the rest of his not-undercover undercover outfit, and it made Ryan's heart a little sad. He'd known Chester Bennington for long enough now to know he'd rather be running around in shorts and a muscle shirt. Or less. But all his body art would give him away to fans, and then they'd never find a copy of The Princess Bride.