Flexible--Rydon--40

Brendon's all moved out and into a cheap and almost-not-really-but-mostly-falling-apart apartment by the time they really start working with Pete Wentz.

"I'm not gonna tell you guys how to write your music. I'm just here to guide you," Pete says and invites them out to stay with him LA, while they record their first album.

So they all pile into Spencer's van and head for California.

"Dibs on the radio!" Ryan announces as they toss their bags into the trunk.

"What the fuck, dude? I thought you were driving?" protests Spencer.

Ryan smirks. "Exactly. I'm not driving to LA listening to crap music."

Brendon and Brent meet each other's gaze behind Ryan's back and simultaneously roll their eyes.

As if he can sense the mockery going on behind his back, Ryan turns around to glare suspiciously at the two boys.

"What?" asks Brendon, flashing Ryan his most angelic smile.

Ryan swallows, because damn! That smile. "I know you are up to something," he hisses, clambering into the driver's seat. "And you dare deny it!"

Brendon just laughs—his loud and lively laugh that is so Brendon, that it makes Ryan's face flush deep red just from the sound, and he grips tight on the steering wheel as Brent, Spencer, and Brendon join him in the van.

"Also," says Ryan as they pull out of Spencer's driveway. "Only Brendon is allowed to sing because he's the only one with a voice worth shit—" Brendon beams. "—but not Disney, but if it's fucking Disney, I will pull over and personally kick your ass." Brendon's smile fades.

Spencer snorts the image of Ryan kicking anyone's ass, let alone Brendon's.

"Don't you snort at me, Spencer Smith," bitches Ryan, chugging down the freeway at a steady speed. "Don't think I don't know what you like to do at night."

Spencer gulps, because he can't think of anything bad he does at night of the top of his head, but it's Ryan and pissing off Ryan has never been a good idea. Ever.

Ryan turns up the radio, letting some grungy rock fill up the car, and they drive quietly for a couple hours; Ryan focused on the road; Spencer reading a book and trying hard not to get carsick; Brent watching the cities speed by; and Brendon focused intently on the back of Ryan's head and wondering how many times he'd been pushed around by his father.

Was it ever because he was working on the band and his father didn't approve? Did he get his arm broken because he was with us? Because he's gay? When did he get so good at hiding his pain?

But then Brendon realizes that Ryan's always been good at hiding his pain, because maybe he's always been waiting for someone who cared enough to look for it.

Brendon keeps staring at the back of Ryan's head, looking for it and wondering if he'll know when he's found it.

"Are we there yet?"