The Only Difference Between Love and Envy is Press Coverage

Writing Tragedies

How do you tell your boyfriend that you're leaving him? Not because you want to, but because you have to. How do you tell your parents that you've lost your scholarship to one of the best schools in the country? Not because you were arrested or weren't smart enough, but because you neglected your work and became careless. How do you even come to terms with it your fucking self? Brendon had no idea.

He walked into that office a confused student. And he walked out of it a distraught guest. He'd fucked up and he fucked up bad. He couldn't even blame Ryan for it. It was all his fault. He didn't have to stay home with him, or leave school to get pampered or shop or eat with him. And he damn sure could have declined a few parties and stayed in to do his assignments. This was all his doing. He should have tried saying no once in a while. But he hasn't. And now he was here.

Ryan took the news about as well as Brendon expected. He flipped the fuck out. Running back into the dean's office and threatening him with everything he could. He insulted him and even threw a few things around. But none of that helped. Because it wasn't the college's decision. It was the scholarship committee who made the choices. And even the privileged Ryan Ross had no say so over them.

When Ryan finally calmed down enough to stop destroying the Dean's office, they left the school. Ryan didn't want to be there anyway and Brendon had no reason to go back to class. They sped all the way to Ryan's place in silence. But Brendon could feel the anger radiating off of the deadly silent man. He just didn't know who he was angry at. As soon as they got in the house, Ryan was on his phone.

"Who are you calling?" Brandon asked worriedly.

"Hello, mother?" Well that answered that question. "Yeah, good to speak to you too. I'm fine."

"Put it on speaker." Brendon whispered. He didn't like hearing just half of the conversation.

"Are you sure you're fine, dear? You sound a little upset. And you don't usually call us." His mother's dull voice filled the room. "Have you overdone another credit card?"

"No, mother. Not yet."

"So you don't need more money?"

"Not exactly."

"Please be direct, George. I can't read your mind and you're starting to worry me."

"It's Ryan, mother."

"I know what I named you. And your first name is George."

"It's Ryan, damn it!" He snapped. "Listen, I didn't call to have this debate with you."

"Then why did you call, George?" She must be where Ryan got his stubbornness from.

"It's about my boyfriend."

"Brendon? How is he?"

"He's not doing too well. His scholarship is being taken from him. He's being kicked out of school."

"Oh my, that's horrible."

"Can't you do something? Call someone like the mayor or something?"

"That won't help bring his scholarship back, George. Once it's gone. It's gone."

"Fine. Then can you guys just pay his tuition for a while? Until he finds a new job or something?"

She laughed condescendingly. "George, we are not paying your boyfriend's tuition. That's a ridiculous amount of money."

"But you can afford it!"

"We have enough money to buy a small state, doesn't mean we're going to."

"Mom!"

"I'm sorry, George, but it's a no." Her voice softened.

"I hate you."