Chapter 2

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Ryan's POV:

Why am I so tired? Uhhh.. I hate my job, but whatever actually I love it. It just gets too much sometimes, like today. We were in the studio the whole day and the guys were just never content with my lyrics, although yesterday they seemed to like them. I groan out loud, while walking through the streets of LA. I just need some alone time and fresh air, so I decided it was enough for today and said goodbye.

So, now I'm like two blocks away from my apartment, walking past some kind of family restaurant. It looks really nice, very homey and cosy. The families inside look so happy, which reminds me of my childhood. But who am I kidding, what childhood? I never really had one, the only good memories I got, were with Spencer, my best friend. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here, but thanks whatever highness, he never left my scrawny ass. He's the only thing that keeps me sane these days, or really ever has.

Just as I was about to go on, something attracts my attention. Not really something, but more someone. There is this guy, obviously a waiter, because of his apron. He has dark brown hair, that falls to his eyes, then from what I can see same colour eyes, they look like chocolate. Don't get me started with his statue. Someone has some nice as hips and that ass... But what really caught my eyes was his smile, it's not forced like one would imagine, working in such a job. He at least manages to let it look sincere. It is so wide that you can see sparkles in his eyes. He is beautiful.

I probably sound like a creep now, especially because I stared at him for about five minutes from outside the window. So, before someone can recognize me and asks me what I'm nearly drooling about or asks for an autograph, I turn around and continue my way to my apartment. But not before I glance one last time at this incredibly pretty creature.

But let's face it Ryan, you'll never have the guts to ask him out, ha or even ask for his name. It really doesn't matter how famous or rich I am, on the inside I still feel like the little 17-year-old boy that was bullied in school for being a fag. Or whatever names they had for me. And maybe he isn't even nice, I mean I already had a couple of relationships with guys that just wanted me because of my image. I would be fucking pleased to get to know someone, who maybe doesn't want to know me because I'm famous and rich. But seriously, how high is that chance?

Oh well, that's extremely short, but important to see Ryan's thoughts. Hope you liked it. :)

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