The retirement home has a small, local, folk band that comes in today. It's aging men with a couple guitars and soothing voices.

Brendon sits in between Carina and her mother on one of the many couches in the rotunda-like area. His best friend's arm is around his waist, head on her shoulder and eyes in a soft close as he listens to the music and nothing but the music.

It's nice.

When he first came in all Carina wanted to know was how the dinner went, she grinned so wide and would not stop pestering him.

Brendon told her he'll tell her soon, the music already started and he needed to get his mom downstairs because he knew for a fact she'd want to come see the performance. He wasn't complaining, he wanted to see it too.

The topic has been dismissed, for now.

Carina will ask again later; he's excited to tell her everything.

It's nice having a friend. It's nice having Carina.

***

Brendon tends to every need except his own.

By the time lunch came around Grace didn't want to eat with everyone, she said today she would eat inside. It's fine, he understands. He tells his mother he'll go get whatever they're serving and bring it up to her but that's not what she wants.

She wants tacos.

They aren't serving tacos, they never do.

Brendon misses lunch and drives to Jack in the Box, getting tacos with only cheese and lettuce because she wanted nothing more and nothing less. He had grown to know her like the back of his hand, he wished all his other siblings did as well.

He sometimes feels wrong for thinking that way.

They have other necessities; some with partners, some with kids, some with a life.

Brendon's lost that, but at the same time he's not sure if he ever has had one.

All he knew is that coming to a place where the walls and floor were built of prestige and sorrow every weekend was creating someone who would never grow to be anyone.

Brendon isn't someone. He's nothing.

The closer he gets to Tyler and Josh the more he wants to spend time with them, and he can't. Weekdays were busy for them all. Brendon goes through so much shit at work and then he has no choice but to come to the retirement home and watch people limp their way through their last few days.

That's not where he wants to be.

He wants to be able to sleep in his own home on Fridays, and instead of waking up and heading to matrydom, he heads to nirvana.

Tyler and Josh are the potential of being nirvana.

If things go well, they will be.

Brendon's being prohibited, though.

Being in the retirement home the whole weekend holds him back from pursuing anything, especially their relationship.

How was he supposed to keep going if he couldn't even start?

The whole situation is very contradicting.

Brendon comes back with a bag of fast food and a head full of disconsolate thoughts, walking into his mother's room bombarded with that wretched scent and unforgiving words.

"I got your tacos." He mutters, throwing his keys onto the counter.

Grace turns to him, an easy tongue. "I don't want tacos."

Exasperation.

Brendon closes his eyes so tight he might never want to open them up again. Fists clenched, just like his jaw, and body flooded with heat.

He has so much to let out but he is forced to shove it back down his throat. One day he'll overflow. He's certain it will be soon, on a good day too. When everything seems right but one simple thing will trigger it all. He knows himself well.

Breathing, all it takes his breathing to keep him steady.

And control. Brendon has very little of that, though.

He needs to let it go. Grace doesn't know right from wrong anymore. She only knows what she wants and what displeases her.

She's displeasing her own son.

He missed lunch hour, where he could have spent time with Carina then. He missed one of the only hours of socialization and solace with another. He receives none from his mother, all he does is give. He makes sure she's well-fed, he makes sure to keep up with her hygiene, he makes sure she rests amiably every night so she wouldn't wake up with a crook in her neck.

Brendon does everything for her.

He gets nothing in return.

"Fuck," he releases.

A pang so heavy sits in his chest, he could fall forward.

Brendon's always falling.

He can't stand here any longer, he needs to leave again. Not for long, but long enough to recollect himself.

Tears are embedded in his water line as he walks out the door. Tears stay in the same place as he marches down the long hallway with diamond patterns on the floor and caregivers pushing wheelchairs. Tears threaten him as he knocks on someone's door with aching knuckles and a lowered head.

Tears. . . Tears fall when he sees Carina's face.

She frowns as he collapses onto her chest, bag of fast food still in hand as he hangs his arms around her limply.

Carina brings him in and sets the food down on the table, holding him closer as he weeps against a delicate shade of skin.

"Shh, shh."

Brendon shakes his head, sobbing.

Carina's mother watches the scene unfold with wide eyes, lowering down the television in hopes it would help some.

It doesn't, at least she tried.

"Bren, let's sit down, okay?" Carina whispers against his hair, pushing a strand behind his ear. He nods, standing up straight with a loud sniffle and spotted face.

She guides him to the small balcony outside for some privacy, hand in his hand as they sit down on the outdoor sofa. He immediately falls into that pitiable state, head now in her lap and fingers squeezing hers.

The birds chirp as he cries, the sparrows sing as he mourns.

It was such an awful thing to be going through, he wanted it to be fake. He wanted to be nurtured by a parent and not a friend again, he wanted the internal happiness of a child he never got to experience because life had other plans.

Brendon has never had the chance to enjoy anything.

The cake Tyler made was phenomenal and Carina's fingers running through his hair feels good, but that's not what enjoyment is.

He craved for bitterness to be disposed, he waited for bliss to appear.

It never has.

He's not sure it ever will.

Tyler and Josh, truly, are his only hope.

Brendon's lost faith in humanity, and then gains it back around them. He discovers something new every day. His mind grows beautifully like flowers in the spring, he loves that they're pushing everything he's known and are ready to give him the journey he's been anticipating for twenty-nine years.

Brendon thinks he's ready for Josh and Tyler.

The occurrence makes his cheeks react naturally, not from grieving but from utter excitement.

"Carina," he mumbles.

"Yes?" She answers cautiously.

He chuckles through the pain. "I have so much to tell you."

Carina brushes away the fallen tears with the pad of her thumbs. "Are you alright telling me, though?"

Brendon closes his eyes, chest rising and falling to no rhythm in particular. He says it faintly, not meaning it in a ruthless manner. "No, not yet."

She understands. She always does.

Carina leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. It helps, no matter the simplicity of it. He takes affection for granted sometimes, only because he's scared of it. He doesn't want it to be that way; it won't help him get anywhere with the relationship he's trying to follow.

Tyler and Josh had more than enough to give, he spends every day trying to welcome it instead of running away.

***

The whole weekend, Brendon never ended up telling Carina how the dinner went.

He was too caught in his head to talk about it.

Now, he has come into work with tired eyes and loose limbs. He lays his coat onto his rolling chair and takes a seat, huffing, groaning.

Brendon slips his phone out and makes sure to put it on silent so it wouldn't disrupt the entire floor. Josh tends to message him a lot while he works, which he didn't mind all that much, but he couldn't exactly answer unless he went to the restroom or was on break.

Brendon sneaks his phone out to text him every once in a while, though.

No one notices.

Before turning it off, he swallows roughly when looking at the Tinder icon still on his homescreen.

He doesn't use it anymore, he hasn't since he got Josh and Tyler's numbers.

He should delete it.

Brendon turned off his notifications too, it was like it wasn't there in first place. He hasn't been on it, and really, doesn't want to be.

He wonders if Josh still uses his.

Shaking his head, he slides his phone into his pocket, deciding not to delete it. He will soon, especially if this relationship continues to delve further into his every day life. He wants it to, and he knows Tyler and Josh would like it to as well.

There's a tap at his shoulder which he flinches at, quickly turning around to see Ryland.

"Uh, hi," Brendon's lip twitches.

"Hey." He replies, pulling an iced caramel macchiato from the holder it was in. "Ryan and I got you this, we don't really know what you like, I hope this is okay."

Ryland reaches his arm out to hand it to Brendon, who grabs it sheepishly.

He stares at the sweet and caffeinated drink, finally diverting his attention back up to the man.

"You, you didn't have to do this."

Ryland shrugs. "Shane goes to Starbucks too much." Brendon isn't sure who that is but he won't question it. Not right now, at least. "It's the least we could do."

"Okay. . ." Brendon sets it down. "Thank you."

"No problem." He says, taking a sip of his own coffee and walking away.

Brendon can't help but sit there in disbelief, he doesn't know what's been happening lately. First, it's Debby, then Lukas, and now the other two Ryan's? It's peculiar. He's been working the same establishment for six years, so why are people suddenly so interested in him now? Before, he was only a ghost.

At the thought, Lukas pushes his chair out to look over Brendon's cubicle.

"Did I just witness what I think I just witnessed?" He asks, dubiety clear.

Brendon raises his eyebrows, nodding carefully.

"Has hell frozen over?" Luke jokes.

"Something like that."

The two go back to minding their own business, Brendon getting to enjoy a sugary drink in the midst of it.

He can't help but feel a bit uneasy; he couldn't tell if any of this is solemn or simply rational for them both. Brendon's easily the most impressionate person, and he knows people have, and still could, use it to their advantage, get on his good side for their safety.

Maybe, though, he could just be making friends.

That's a little unordinary for Brendon, but there's a beginning to everything.

The past month has been a statement piece for him.