But instead of giving him the cold shoulder, Brendon merely put on a smile and tried to kill him with kindness. "Good afternoon, Mr. Weekes!" he greeted, raising his voice to be heard over Ryan's playing. "What brings you here on this fine day? I thought you'd prefer to browse at a more sophisticated marketplace."
Dallon rolled his eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He must have just always been determined to have a bad time. "I'm here to replenish the lobby's waiting snacks," he explained dryly. "Now I could ask you the same thing, Urie. Why are you here? And sitting with Ross, of all people. I thought we talked about this."
Ryan flashed Brendon a frown, but continued to play nonetheless. Had to keep drawing people toward them and The Spotted Cat.
"We did," Brendon said. He didn't dare explain to Ryan what all this was about. Not when Dallon was still standing there, judging them harshly. "Doesn't mean it changed anything."
Dallon raised an eyebrow now, sparing a suspicious glance in Ryan's direction. "I see," he drawled. He was starting to make Brendon nervous. "And what exactly are you two doing right now?"
He couldn't let Dallon get to him that easily, that quickly. He stood up straighter, raised his chin, puffed out his chest. He was stronger than that. "We're tryin' to get The Spotted Cat back on the map," he said defiantly. "We revamped it, made it look all spiffy, so now we're tryin' to get people to come back and give it business. Why? Ya wanna stop by next Friday? Ryan's performin' a concert. Ya don't wanna miss it, Mr. Weekes. He's incredible."
"So I can see," Dallon said, his unreadable gaze glued to Ryan as he continued to play his melodies. Then he turned back to Brendon, his eyes icy and unwelcoming. "Well, Urie, I suppose I'll see you later tonight. That is, if you decide to come back before tomorrow morning, right?"
He turned on his heel and didn't look back to see Brendon staring after him, frozen to his spot with his heart beating out of his chest.
"What was that all about?" Ryan finally asked, long after Dallon had disappeared from sight. "Who was that guy?"
Brendon swallowed. Suddenly his mouth had gotten dry, his throat too tight to speak. Dallon was intent on making Brendon's life in New Orleans miserable, wasn't he? What was his problem? Ryan wasn't riffraff. He wasn't dangerous or misleading in any way. He was Brendon's friend, and nothing was going to change that. Why did Brendon even let him get underneath his skin in the first place?
"My landlord," Brendon grumbled. His ecstatic mood had been deflated, all because of an uncomfortable chat with Dallon. "Don't ask."
So Ryan didn't ask, much to Brendon's relief. He didn't feel like explaining the whole story, nor did he even want to in the first place. How was he supposed to tell Ryan that his landlord called him riffraff? It wasn't right. Ryan had been nothing but kind and welcoming, and as a new guy in the big city, Brendon couldn't have asked for anything more. Dallon was just a downer. That was the problem. He couldn't stand to see anyone else happy, so he decided to lead his life by putting others down. Brendon couldn't let him get on his nerves like that. Not anymore.
The rest of the day went rather smoothly. They had received at least two dollars in donations and convinced a couple dozen people to stop by The Spotted Cat for Ryan's performance. If that wasn't a win for their very first day on the streets, Brendon didn't know what was. They still had the rest of the week, as well, so he couldn't even begin to imagine how many more people they could round up in that time. If he ignored Dallon's dark words from earlier in the day, his moods improved drastically. Things were beginning to look up for the old jazz club.
They packed up around nightfall, just after the market closed, too. They trekked back to The Spotted Cat in eager silence, and after Ryan put away his music and instrument, he turned around and pulled Brendon in for a hug.
It startled him at first, being yanked into a tight embrace, but he didn't hesitate to return the mark of affection. It was quiet between the two of them, but it was a comfortable silence, the kind you share with someone you're deeply connected with. With Ryan's chin on his shoulder, and his fingers tightly wrapped around the fabric of his shirt, Brendon felt at home. He felt more at home than he ever had in his life.
"Thank you," Ryan told him. His voice was soft, soft and delicate, and Brendon never wanted him to let go.
He cared about Ryan. He cared about him a lot more than he probably should have, but he didn't care in the slightest. He had made a new friend, a new family. How was he supposed to brush aside something like that? And now that The Spotted Cat was on its way to booming back to business, the dismal clouds above their heads seemed to lift. Ryan wouldn't have to worry about Spencer. Jon wouldn't have to worry about the two of them. All of their financial issues would disappear come next Friday night, when Ryan performed the first concert held at the old jazz club in ages. Everything was going to be okay. Brendon knew that for a fact.
But that all changed when he saw the foreclosure sign on the door the next morning.
~~~~~
How bout that for a cliffhanger? I apologize immensely for the stress because even I had minor heart palpitations while writing that line
I've got another long week ahead of me whoop whoop. Tests everyday and even MORE show choir competitions! HOORAH! (spare me)
Oh so I'm not sure if any of you saw Mikey's Instagram post earlier this week about that amazing Frank Iero shirt that I didn't know existed on Hot Topic so you know my trashy ass instantly went out to buy it. I don't have any regrets. Literally 90% of my savings go to Hot Topic. One of these days I'm gonna run out of A.) money B.) space in my house C.) things to purchase at Hot Topic. But today is not that day
Love y'all! Remember to vote/comment/share with your pals! <3
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Mad as Jazzmen |1930s Ryden AU| ✔️
Fanfiction"It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing." * * * The Great Depression was, by far, one of the worst tragedies in the history of the world. People drowned in debt. Banks were ruined. The stock market was broken and unreliable. But one...
