I'm Not Complaining That It's Raining (sequel to Aventures)

5- Cheeseburgers and Rock n' Roll

[A.N.: *faceplant* I suck at updating, I'm so sorry. Okay so almost 7k reads on aventures?! What's that!!!!! yOU GUYS ARE SO FAB! Thank you all so much =3 okay so if Aventures does reach 7k, I'll post a chapter. And uh... Yeah. I'll post Ryan's proposal, basically. So it's all cute n shit. *crowd goes awe* oh, ikr. Okay so.... read, I guess.

Or don't, if, you know, you don't feel like it.

Idek anymore.

I should shut up, eventually. Really freaking should. oKAY IM DONE BAI

*growd cheers* geez, thanks]

"I wonder if you guys are actually able to get somewhere on time."

"Suck it, Mr. I-Like-To-Bother-People-While-They're-Having-Sex."

They all laughed and I playfully punched Spencer on the shoulder. "At least we're here, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but you should've been here an hour ago."

I sighed. "Next time tell us to get here an hour earlier, so we'll actually be on time and you two will stop complaining about us being late."

Jon, who had remained quite silent so far, chimed in, "ladies, you're both pretty. Now, will you please make me the pleasure of putting your fucking asses on these chairs and get the work started?"

Brendon laughed. "Jon, you'll always be my favourite, I swear."

"Hey!" I punched him on the shoulder and laughed harder.

"Sorry babe," he said between giggles. He kissed my cheek and grabbed his guitar as Spencer walked to his drum set. Jon grabbed his bass so I decided to take the accoustic guitar I had gotten in Montreal with Brendon and sat beside Jon.

...

Lunch was good. We had a classic; cheeseburgers. Brendon obviously paid for all of us, apologizing for being late and I, as an idiot, only stubbornly mumbled a few words that most likely nobody even understood.

Yeah, we'd been late, so what.

After we stuffed our faces with tons of meat, fat, bread, cheese and more fat, we got back to "jamming". We already had two songs for our next album. The lyrics were somehow satisfying and the melody was just fine. We had a pretty clear idea of what we wanted and did not want to do for the next album.

Our songs would be inspired by 80's rock anthems. Hell to the yes.

I always prefered keeping my music raw, natural. Without everything they add to songs nowadays. Powerful lyrics, simple melodies, strong instruments, and there, you have a good song.

Also, the lyrics were always a very, very important aspect of music for me. I turned everything into lyrics. Stories, heartbreaks, life experiences, dreams, name it. I was always the kind of guy who'd hide behind his art. I felt like I could write very confident lyrics, knowing that many people wouldn't even know that I wrote them. It just always felt more natural than speaking.

My music sort of spoke for itself.

And, as we were all trying to find a way to manage a melody on a few blurry lines I had written a few weeks earlier, Brendon chimed in with something I didn't quite want to hear.

It's not that I disagreed. It's just that didn't quite agree.

And no, it's not the same thing.

"I want Fighting on the album."

I froze. How could he? Brendon, who knew how personnal Fighting was, who knew how much it meant to me, how much of myself I had put in that song, how could he say something like that?

"Never."

He stared at me in shock. "But, Ryan, it's a great song. Beatifully built, lyrically extremely powerful, musically so simple and... and yet so complicated. Fighting is perfect for the album, Ryan. It needs to be on it."

"I said no, Brendon."

Spencer and Jon were equally shocked.

What was so shocking? Fighting wouldn't be on the album, end of the story.

Quite fucking simple.

"Ryan, Brendon's right. Fighting would be a massive piece for the album. We could change it a little bit, so it's not as person-"

"Touch my fucking song and die, Jon Walker. I said Fighting wouldn't be on the album, and it won't. There's nothing you guys will say that'll make me change my mind. It just won't."

Brendon sighed and added, "look, Ryan, you have to stop being so stubborn! Fighting is great! One of my favourite songs you've ever written! Stop that faux modesty of yours and start realizing that this song would be perfect fot the album! We all agree, it would be the master piece of this album, it'd fit perfectly! Why don't you just face it?"

My face turned to red. I wasn't embarassed, I was massively pissed off. "Faux modesty?! Stubborn?! Who are you, Brendon Ross?!" I stood up. "I told you Fighting was too personnal, why don't you all get that into your little minds uh?!

It won't be on the album, period! End of the story! Goodbye! Kaput! Stop trying to convince me, it won't be on the fucking album!"

"Okay, so it's all your decision now, isn't it?! It's all about you, all about the great George Fucking Ryan Ross, right?! Well let me tell you something, George." Brendon stood up too, his finger pointing at my chest. "You are the most stubborn idiot I've ever seen in my life! You can't just accept a fucking compliment, you keep arguing over a fucking song that, as I said, is probably my favourite song you've ever written, and you get fucking pissed about it! What's your fucking problem?!"

His face was red with anger. At that point, even though Spencer and Jon were witnessing the whole thing, I think we both completely forgot about them.

"My fucking problem?! My problem, Brendon?! So you think this is about me?! You are the one who absolutely can't respect my fucking decision about not putting Fighting on the album, and this is about me?! I think you've got some work to do on yourself there, Brendon. This isn't about me, it's all you! You can't just fucking respect people!"

"You know what?! Just fuck off, Ryan! I'm tired of your fucking attitude! You're being a pain in the ass ever since we've started this! If you don't want to be here, just fuck off!"

I stared at him and, without really thinking about what I was about to say, kept going.

And I really should have just shut my fucking mouth.

"You know what?! I fucking will! Don't even bother coming back tonight! If I'm too of a pain in the ass for you then just don't come home!!" I threw my guitar on the couch in the corner of the room before turning back to Brendon. "Oh, and you know what?! I don't even want a fucking child!"

I saw his face turn pale but, without another word, stormed out of the room.

Sometimes, it's just better to keep your mouth shut.

.....

[A.N.: *hides in a corner* don't hate me please omg]