Two Weeks In Hawaii

Prologue

The curtains were pulled tightly shut, the joining points clipped together so they couldn't stray apart. All around on the carpet and queen sized bed were balls of crumpled tissues, three empty cardboard boxes thrown against the wall once they were empty. The phone was unplugged and laying in a pile of cords on the floor beside the clock whose neon glow provided too much light in the otherwise pitch black room. The bedroom door had been tightly shut as well as the door to the joining bathroom where the contents of the medicine cabinet littered the floor. This was how it's been for about a week.

Ryan had secluded himself from the world by any and all means he could. The only time he left his bed was to use the toilet, cupping his hands beneath the running faucet when he needed a drink. It was almost a week ago that his fiancé, fucking-Pete-fucking-Wentz, his once boyfriend of five years, told Ryan he had found someone else; the night before their wedding. It was then that Ryan's world collapsed and started on an ever falling downward spiral. He had loved Pete, the words said back to him in the darkest hours of the night as they lay beneath the sheets, and Pete had suddenly fallen in love with someone else, casting Ryan aside like all those years meant nothing.

The first day, the day he was supposed to wed, Ryan cried and cried until he basically shriveled up. It had taken a lot for him to ask Pete to marry him; the thought of permanent commitment a bit overwhelming. Still, he managed, and Pete accepted; why accept if he wasn't in love with Ryan? The second day was anger. Ryan ripped apart his room and anything Pete had owned or used a lot was thrown haphazardly at a wall. Each item Ryan cursed out; imagining Pete standing before him as he angrily pelted the objects forward. He had dented some of the walls but Ryan didn't care. Pete had dented Ryan's heart.

The third day, Ryan decided to leave the world. He locked the windows and closed the curtains so the light couldn't come in, not wanting to hear anyone in the world outside. Ryan unplugged his phone so the repetitive ring wouldn't disrupt his seclusion, unplugging his clock as well after deciding the large, neon-green numbers were a constant reminder of every minute passing that he was now single. The forth to present day have been depression. Ryan lies in his bed on his stomach, blanket draped loosely over his lower body with one leg sticking out, staring blankly at the blackness around him. He was supposed to be on his honeymoon in Hawaii and already had the time from work.

It was when Ryan heard the front door slam that he regretted giving his best friends an emergency key. This wasn't an emergency; this was grieving. Wasn't Ryan entitled to that? "George Ryan Ross the third!" Spencer's angered voice echoed outside his room, Ryan cringing at the name. He hates his first name; that's why he goes by 'Ryan'. Footsteps drew closer to the door so Ryan lazily grabbed a pillow next to him, the case thoroughly doused in air freshener to eliminate the smell of Pete, and placed it over his head. "You have ten seconds to open up!" Spencer called through the wood.

Ryan made no effort to move; he just shut his eyes and ignored Spencer's counting. When Spencer reached 'one', Ryan heard the golden handle shake a bit before the door popped open, the atmosphere almost instantly changing to something less heavy. "God Ryan; dark enough?" Spencer asked, his hand sliding along the light blue wall to find the plastic casing to the light switch, his fingers flicking the switch up and the ceiling light instantly bursting on, grateful to once again shine. "This place is a mess."

"Go away, Spin," Ryan mumbled into the pillow beneath him, his warm breath bouncing back at him.

"You're depressed; I get that. Pete's a fucking selfish asshole. But secluding yourself in your room like a fucking vampire is not how you deal with it," Spencer said, ignoring Jon's looks of 'show some sympathy'. "When the last time you ate? Or bathed for that matter?"

"Just leave me alone," Ryan whined, pushing his face into the feathery pillow.

"You had a week of that," Spencer huffed, staring at the lump of Ryan before him. "Now it's time for intervention."

"We just want to help because we're concerned about you," Jon said in a far softer tone. "We care about you and want to see you happy." Spencer rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's 'common friend' speech because this was Ryan and he was much more than a 'common friend'. He was a brother.

"Bring Pete back," Ryan said. "That'll make me happy."

"That's too bad because next time I see that little bastard, I'm going to rip his balls off and shove them down his throat then bash his fucking face in," Spencer said, Ryan fighting back a smile.

"Spence;" Jon gave him that 'calm down' look, having dealt with Spencer's anger about the whole situation the entire week. "I'm going to make lunch." Jon addressed Ryan again. "I expect you to eat Ryan." His voice was a bit warning as he turned and left.

"Come on, Ry." Spencer's voice softened considerably as he walked further into the room and towards the opposite side of the bed. "Staying in here like this, letting yourself waste away, it only letting Pete win." He pushed some of the tissues from the bed to the floor. "You have to get up and get out there to show that pompous asshole that you're doing just fine without him." Spencer climbed onto the bed, Ryan shifting as the mattress dipped down a bit beneath his best friend's body.

"I'm not fine without him," Ryan said miserably. "I loved him, Spin. I loved him and he fucking used me." Tears started to make their way to Ryan's already sore, red eyes. Spencer sighed and lay on his side, facing Ryan, reaching out and removing the pillow from Ryan's head before he suffocated. "He was my world."

"That was your problem," Spencer said cautiously. "You did everything and anything for him. He was only using you, Ryan. And once you were used, he tossed you out to move on." Spencer spoke quietly but truthfully, pushing Ryan's matted hair back to expose his pale face. "It was a one sided love."

"He was going to marry me," Ryan practically whispered, clinging to the fabric of the striped pillowcase beneath his head. He knew Spencer was right, but he really did love Pete and couldn't ever leave him. Ryan just wanted to do whatever it took for Pete to love him back. Truly love him.

"Pete was doing whatever it took to completely use you, Ryan," Spencer answered, still stroking Ryan's hair. "He couldn't actually commit to you. He should have never said 'yes'."

"It hurts, Spin," Ryan whispered, raising his head to look at Spencer with squinted eyes.

"I know," Spencer calmly replied, laying his arm over Ryan and pulling the older boy towards him. Ryan reluctantly moved his body towards Spencer, letting his best friend's arms envelope him as he began to lightly cry again, laying his head on Spencer's chest. "It'll hurt for awhile but you just have to find a way to help yourself get over that pain. That doesn't mean not eating or bathing or locking yourself in your room without light or human contact. That's just going to make the pain worse."

"Help me?" Ryan asked, matching his breathing to the steady beating of Spencer's heart.

"Of course," Spencer smiled. "That's what friends are for."