The Gray City - Ryan Ross x Reader

Chapter Two

At first (Y/n) did not know why she was waking up with a sick feeling in her stomach. Pictures of men with faces hidden in the shadow of hats had chased her dreams. Then she remembered the offer Hanson had made her, or rather, the decision he had told her. That she was to spend the night with one of the customers.

She remembered leaving the building and hurrying to the Subway Station, not allowing herself to cry until she reached her small room. Feeling utterly lost and helpless, she had torn the coat off her body, thrown the Oxfords into a corner of the room and pulled the dress over her head, quickly seeking comfort in the warm nightdress and her soft blankets. The tears had not stopped flowing for hours.

What was she supposed to do? She needed this job, she could not refuse. She did not want to be touched by some man she did not love, especially since it would be the first time for her. She was twenty, yes, but somehow she had always been too busy staying alive to form a relationship. Not to mention that being with a man and getting pregnant, without being married, would be a disaster of indescribable measure. And this was the thread she would have to face in two months.

She wanted to stay in bed, wanted to stay curled up between her sheets and ignore the cruel world outside her walls, but hunger and her sense of duty got her out of bed eventually.

A shower, a short trip to the shops and the bakery, and a proper meal later, (Y/n) started to feel more human again. Certainly she would find a way to get out of this deal, she had two months to figure out a plan.

The family she was living with, the Dinapolis, cheered her up with some banter, even though they did not know what trouble the young woman was facing. Alfredo and Cecilia, the two oldest kids, told a few stories from school, making (Y/n) laugh a lot, before she had to leave for work at eight pm. The Dinapolis believed she worked at the reception of a small hotel, doing the night shift. That had been the first best thing (Y/n) had thought of when they had asked her where she was employed.

This night was just as cold the one before. (Y/n) hated the cold, she would prefer living in the south, but New York was her home and she was not ready to let go of it yet. As every day she travelled to Times Square with the Subway and from there to the strip club by foot.

No one asked why she was so pale and quiet, not even Carry, who (Y/n) was the closest to. It was either a curse or a blessing that everyone avoided asking questions. On the one hand, it allowed everyone to keep their privacy, on the other hand, (Y/n) had no one to share her thoughts with. It had been exciting and breathtaking to dance with Ryan yesterday, but today it seemed as if her body was moving on its own while her mind was trying to find ways to escape the miserable situation she would soon face.

Days passed, no one cared about (Y/n)'s obviously terrible mood as long as she performed nicely on stage. After a week, she had finally given up the worries. She would find a way to deal with everything eventually, but sulking around for two months could not be the solution. So she set herself a goal, get to know Ryan.

One should think that spending more than six hours every day, touching and caressing and exchanging looks that are less than subtle, should one open up for another, but Ryan was as cold and quiet as a statue. The looks full of desire with which he watched (Y/n) on stage as she seductively danced around him disappeared from his face the moment he stepped backstage.

After a week of fruitlessly trying to start a conversation with him, (Y/n) was actually convinced it would be easier to talk to a rock. At least the rock would not send disapproving stares her way as soon as she approached it.

So she changed her tactic. Instead of walking over to the miserably looking musician and asking him how he was doing, she got one of the water glasses and handed it to him. The first time he just stared at the glass, at her face and back at the glass. It was rather comical how he did not know what to do. When he did not take it, (Y/n) just placed it at the table next to him and left to talk to one of the girls. They continued this routine until he finally took the glass from her hand after six days. He almost expected her to start talking to him when he took the glass. A part of him missed her enthusiastic attempts of getting to know him. But she just turned around and left again, leaving him standing alone and a little hurt by her action.