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People spilled out of the cinema into the cool night air, breaking away into smaller groups, laughing, talking, lighting cigarettes. Most of them drifted away quickly— the show was over, no reason to linger.
Soon only four young men were left standing around in an awkward huddle.
"I saw you," Spencer said, when he couldn't stand the taut silence any more. "I saw your arm."
Jon and Ryan quickly agreed that they, too, had seen Brendon's arm.
"Behind the tree," Spencer added. "In the ambush scene."
"Definitely your arm," Ryan said. "And I would know."
Brendon did not appear impressed. He was unchanged from the crumpled ball he'd been since the end of the film.
"They cut me out," he finally said, in a tiny voice.
"It wasn't just you," Spencer said immediately. "You could hardly see any of the extras, unless they were girls with bare legs."
"I think I saw your shoulder, too," Ryan said. Spencer shot him a look that said Don't push it.
"Hey," Jon said, throwing an arm across Brendon's shoulders, "who wants ice cream?" His eyebrows waggled in a complicated dance, and Spencer had to turn away to hide his smile. If Brendon saw him smiling he'd get fussy, and then Ryan would get fussy. Spencer was so glad to have Jon, and not just because he was sleeping with him. It was so nice to have someone around who didn't demand constant care and feeding.
"I don't," Brendon said. It was a lie. Brendon always wanted ice cream.
Jon made a pouty face to match Brendon's and stuck his face in front of Brendon's where he couldn't be ignored. "I don't believe you." He began rocking Brendon back and forth, sing-songing "Ice cream, ice cream."
Brendon's pout twitched.
~
In the absence of bars, lots of other types of eateries were picking up the late-night slack. There was one ice cream parlor in particular they favored, and not just because it was within walking distance of their house.
"I told everyone," Brendon wailed into his obscenely large sundae. "I told Pete Wentz. Everyone we have ever met, and loads of people we haven't, are going to see this picture—"
"I think that's always true," Spencer muttered. Ryan kicked him.
Brendon hadn't heard. "—And they'll all be looking for me in it, and no one will see me, and how will I ever look anyone in the face again?"
"Well, you were in it," Ryan said. "Everyone will just think they missed you, like—" but thankfully shut his own mouth.
"It's not your fault they didn't show much of the extras," Spencer said. He put down his spoon, so Brendon would know this was serious. "You got paid, that's what matters. If they want to pay you for nothing—"
Ryan kicked again, glaring. Brendon was glaring, too.
"The money's not the point!" Brendon said. Spencer held in a sigh. That was the problem with Brendon. And Ryan, actually.
"It's Art," Ryan said. "That's why Brendon—"
Brendon snorted. "I want to be famous!"
Spencer sighed. He felt Jon press his foot against Spencer's in solidarity. Brendon wasn't ever going to be a famous movie star. Studios had morality clauses in their contracts, and Brendon wasn't any good at keeping secrets. He almost certainly had his ankle wrapped around Ryan's right now, and sure, it was under the table and there were a lot of legs, but it was still in public and anyone across the shop could see under the table.
"I'm sure everyone gets cut out of their first picture," Jon offered.
They finished their ice creams in silence. Spencer would have liked to remind Brendon they were all disappointed; they really had been looking forward to seeing their Brendon on the big screen. It didn't seem the right time, though. He'd tell Ryan to tell it to Brendon, later. Ryan wasn't very good at comforting on his own.
They collected hats and coats and scarves and shuffled out of the shop and turned for home.
"I hate LA," Brendon sulked. "Why did we move here?"
"For the warm, sunny weather," Spencer said dryly, turning up his coat collar against the heavy fog that had settled against the dark streets.
~
The next morning was bright and sunny again. Spencer was in the kitchen, watching Jon make breakfast, when Ryan came in looking annoyed and disgruntled.
Spencer raised his eyebrows at Ryan. What?
Ryan refused to speak until he'd had half a cup of coffee. "Brendon's mad at me now, for no reason!" he finally exploded.
"No reason," Spencer repeated, folding his hands on the table. "Of course. What happened?"
Ryan's jaw, clenched shut, twitched stubbornly for a few moments. "He asked if I'd really seen his arm. What was I supposed to say? Of course I said yes—" he shot a dark look at Spencer when it looked like he might interrupt— "and that I could recognize his arm from the freckles."
Spencer saw where this was going, and put his head on the table.
"How was I supposed to know they'd put makeup on to cover the freckles?"
Spencer spoke to the table. "Because he came home wearing it every night?"
Jon very quietly set down plates. Ryan started eating his eggs with one hand, gesturing with the other.
"Well I didn't know, okay? He wore sleeves and then at night—"
"Be very, very careful how you finish that sentence," Spencer said. "This is the breakfast table and I'm trying to eat."
Ryan glared at him. "He'd wash it off." He stole Spencer's toast. "Asshole," he muttered around a mouthful of food.
Spencer sighed. Jon sat down with another plate and said "He's just upset right now. Don't take it personally, Ry." He looked cautiously at the door and said in almost-a-whisper "No one else actually saw him, right?"
Ryan, after his own paranoid glance at the doorway, said "I didn't."
They looked at Spencer. He sighed. "I knew which arm was his," Spencer said. "But only because I watched them film it and I knew where he was standing."
They all glumly pushed their eggs around on their plates.
Brendon shuffled in, rubbing his eyes. He didn't look at any of them. Jon stood up quickly. "Hungry? I'm making scrambled eggs."
Brendon nodded, muttered "Thanks" and slid into the free chair.
Everyone was silent until Jon slid a full plate in front of Brendon. He also set down a mug of cocoa. Spencer, betrayed, gave Jon a very stern look.
Brendon looked at his food without moving. "I'm really sorry." The words seemed to burst out of him without any control. "I feel so stupid. I made this into such a big deal and then—"
They all protested immediately, but it Ryan who grabbed Brendon's hand and forced Brendon to look at him. "We're all really disappointed, too, Bden."
"And mad," Jon said.
"And mad," Ryan repeated. "We really wanted to see you in a picture, you know?"
Brendon looked at each of them turn. Spencer made sure to look fierce when Brendon looked at him. Brendon smiled reluctantly. "Thanks, guys." Spencer was glad he'd mentioned it to Ryan last night.
"It'll be okay," Ryan said. "They'll realize what a huge mistake they made, cutting you out, and next time…" Spencer winced when Ryan trailed off, at a loss. He'd been doing so well.
Ryan flailed around blankly for a moment and finished with "it'll be different." He made a face, like he knew how lame it sounded. Brendon, though, beamed at him, and a second later shot out of his chair and into Ryan's, where they started making up for whatever time they'd lost last night.
Spencer looked at Jon, who nodded, and they quickly got up and left the room. "He's like a spider monkey," Spencer complained, as they moved down the hall, heading for Out of Earshot.
Jon laughed and pushed Spencer up against the wall, nuzzling in the way he knew made Spencer ticklish. Spencer laughed and let his hands settle on Jon's waist.
"He'll be okay," Jon said.
"I know."
"We'll all be okay."
"I know that, too," Spencer smiled.
"Mmh," Jon hummed against Spencer's neck. "You're kind of a know-it-all, aren't you?"
"It's been said before."
Jon bit Spencer's neck. "Hey!" Spencer tried to push Jon away, only not really.
Jon kissed Spencer's cheek, then kissed that spot under Spencer's ear that always made his breath hitch. Jon didn't pull away, and his lips just brushed Spencer's skin as he spoke.
"Maybe we could do with a change of scenery."
"What do you mean?"
"Ooh, something Mr. Know-It-All doesn't know?"
"Walker!"
Jon laughed, softly, still speaking into Spencer's jaw. "My parents want to see me. We've got friends in Chicago it would be good to see. A little trip right now might be just the thing."
Spencer hummed, trying to think about it. He was having some difficulty concentrating. "It's not a bad idea," he finally conceded. "It might even be a good idea."
"Don't sound so surprised," Jon pulled back to grin wryly at Spencer.
There was a loud crash from the kitchen.
Jon laughed. Spencer closed his eyes. "I didn't hear it, I don't want to know about it," he said. He grabbed Jon's hand and tugged him toward the stairs. "Come on, let's go hide before they make us clean up."