DAMN YOUR KISS; ryden

Chapter Twenty-Three: Pose, You've Gotta Save Your Reputation

What was worse than going to a greasy 24-hour diner? Going on your own. And worse than that? Being the only goddamned person in said diner.

But here Ryan was, sitting in a booth with a poor excuse for coffee, and a basket of bacon and cheese fries (which, admittedly, were very very nice and delicious despite being very very greasy and bad for him), the grizzled looking waitress eyeing him suspiciously from behind the counter, at which she'd been rubbing at the same spot with a rag for the past five minutes.

Just as he plucked up another fry drenched in gooey spray-on cheese and bacon flecks, a voice gasped breathlessly from beside him.

"I told you, Shannon - it's him!"

Ryan set the fry back down and turned to see a girl of about sixteen or so, in a Paramore t-shirt, oversized hoodie, skinny jeans, hair a bright pink, grinning like she'd just stumbled upon something wondrous and couldn't believe her luck. "Ryan Ross!"

Another girl, dressed similarity, but with blonde hair dip dyed blue, who Ryan assumed to be Shannon, joined the first, and her jaw dropped. "Holy shit!" She gasped.

Ryan resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow, and instead lifted his hand and gave them a little wave. "Hi."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it!" The first girl cupped her hands to her mouth. "I love you so much!"

"Me too!" Shannon added, one of her hands gripping her companion's shoulder in a death grip. "I can't believe you're here."

Ryan bit back a 'neither can I', and pushed himself to his feet. "It's nice to meet you..."

"Shannon!" Shannon practically screamed.

"Lucy." The other girl said, a little more calmly, and dug into her messenger bag, pulling out a chewed up bic pen, and snatching up a napkin from his table. "With a Y."

Ryan smiled at the teenage girl - and the girl pressed a fist to her mouth to keep back a squeal of delight - and scribbled on the napkin.

Hey Lucy!

Your hair is totally rad

Ryan

She pretty much snatched the napkin from him when he held it out to her, and hugged it to her chest, a blissful smile on her face and tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you so, so much!"

Ryan picked up another napkin and wrote a note to Shannon, too, the girl equally as gleeful as her friend.

"Can I be a pain..." Lucy bit her lip. "And get a photo with you?"

"Me too!" Shannon cried.

And so he obliged, as Lucy pulled out her phone, putting an arm around each girl and smiling for each shot taken.

"Hello, new Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter profile picture!" Shannon said triumphantly, flicking through each picture, before handing her friend her phone back.

"Thank you so much." Lucy repeated again, sniffling as her eyes welled up. "It means so much. I love you so much. Both Panic! you, Young Veins you, and ... You!" She bit her lip again, and shook her head. "God, sorry, that was so weird."

"No, no." Ryan waved her last words away. "It means a lot to hear that."

"Can I?" She held her arms out.

"Knock yourself out, kiddo." He replied, and at that, the young girl threw herself at him, barrelling into his chest with a force he'd never guess her small slim body to have. Ryan returned the hug, somewhat awkwardly, patting the girls back - not aware that her friend had snapped another shot until the flash nearly blinded him.

"Thank you so much!" Both girls chorused, after he'd also hugged Shannon, and as they left, their heads bent close together as he could hear them giggling and talking in excited hushed tones all the way outside.

And Ryan was left to his thoughts again.

His fingers went to pluck up one of the now cold and congealing fries, but he thought better of it, instead pushing the basket away, and pressing his knuckles to his mouth as his thoughts restlessly spun around inside his mind. He contemplated there being a Panic! Him. And Young Veins him. And then a him that was now so clearly separated from both. How much of a difference was there between them? How much did everyone think he'd changed? In his own mind, he was still a kid from Las Vegas, who everyone thought was a little bit weird, who'd rather spend time with his guitar than with people. Who had a secret crush on his best friend.

A crush, of course, that still stood to this day - a crush that had become a lot more than the simple high school term allowed it to mean.

And goddammit, Ryan wanted nothing more than to see Brendon, right then. To take a swing at his arrogantly handsome jaw. To kiss him. To turn his back on him. To do other stuff with him - a lot more fun stuff. To tell him to get the fuck outta his life. It was all very confusing.

"So you're some kinda big-shot, huh?" The voice at the side of the table jolted him, and he turned -again - this time to see the waitress, holding the tray with the bill, tapping her foot, which suggested impatience, at odds with her bored face.

"Not re- no." Ryan dug into his jean pocket and pulled a ten out, slapping it onto the waitress's tray, before standing and beginning his way out. "Keep the change." He called over his shoulder, and then stepped outside, the air having a little bite to it as day bleed into night.

And it wasn't until he was at the wheel of his car that he remembered - dinner with Z. And glancing down at the clock on the dashboard, he saw he only had ten minutes to get there. He cursed, shoving the keys into the ignition. A lot of crazy shit had happened the past couple of days, but he couldn't let Z down - one of the very few safe constants in his life.

And so approximately ten minutes later, Ryan combed his fingers through his hair in order to try and make it a little less I've-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-didn't-give-a-shit (which was exactly what it actually was) and a little more presentable. The restaurant Z had picked had a little more class to it - it certainly wasn't a cheap diner with greasy bacon cheese fries. And that done, he straightened his jacket, walked in, got the cute redheaded maître d' to lead him to the table they'd booked -

"Brendon." The name automatically flew out his lips as his heart stuttered and seemed to stop, painfully, in his chest, before coming back full force. The sight of the man before him certainly played a number on Ryan right then. He briefly noted a hair change, but that was hardly relevant. 

"What the hell are you doing here?"