Oneshots | Ryden

South of the border

"Really though, are you guys shitting me or are we going somewhere?" Jon asks. All three boys put their eyes on Ryan, the undisputed leader, desperate for his answer. If he were to say no he probably wouldn't make it out alive.

"I'm all for it."

Brendon jumps out of his seat, springing over the back of the couch and leaping at Ryan, knocking them both over and squeezing onto the lanky boy tight.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he gushes.

"Get off of me you deranged puppy," Ryan says, prying Brendon's arms from around his waist who reluctantly detaches. They both stay on the floor, prompting Spencer to take a seat on the piano bench. He spies Ryan's open notebook and dares to peek, only to see a page of heavy black markings, no doubt hiding unworthy lyrics beneath them.

"It should be somewhere relaxing," Spencer starts.

"Disneyland?" Brendon offers excitedly. He's instantly shut down though, causing a fierce pout to appear on his face. They never let him go to Disneyland, something about needing a toddler leash or whatever.

"Fucken, let's just get a map and toss a pick on it. Wherever the pick points, that's where we'll go," Ryan suggests. Yeah, he's pretty much a genius.

"Brendon, go get an atlas," Jon orders.

"Why me? You go get it."

"Because you're the band bitch, now go get it or you're riding in the trunk the whole way there."

Brendon grudgingly complies, rising to fish for an atlas on the bookshelf. They've locked him in the trunk once before and it's not an experience he wants to relive.

"Got it." He pulls the book down and sets it atop the piano. "Any particular map, are we setting any boundaries?"

"Let's keep it to the west," Ryan says. "I don't feel like flying, I'd rather we drive."

"Road trip!" Brendon yells again, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He loves being on the road, he's missed touring and this will almost be like that except shorter and with more Big Gulps and driving and gummy bears and pop rocks and...

"If it's more than two hours in the car with you, you're only allowed one sugary thing," Ryan warns. Brendon scoffs, his mind is read so easily.

"West it is," Spencer mumbles, finding the correct page as Brendon is too busy acting appalled.

"Here." Ryan pulls a pick from his pocket and hands it to Spencer. "You throw."

Spencer stands a few feet away from the map and flicks the pick upwards so it will land indiscriminately. The pick falls and they all crane their necks.

"Vernon, Texas," Ryan reads. "Kay."

"Texas?" Brendon groans. "What the fuck are we gonna do there? Can't we please, please, please go to Disneyland?"

"Trunk," Jon warns him sternly. Brendon shrinks.

"Fine. Fucking lame-ass Texas it is."

They sit in heavy silence for a hot second before Spencer clears his throat.

"So, uh, so let's leave..."