From Up Here

23

| | Ryker | |

Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan? Those words have been playing on repeat in my head all day, like a broken record that won't stop spinning. They played on a loop as I said goodbye to my sister and told her to tell our dad I'd come see him soon, they played as I tried to finish my part of the inventory, they played as Link and I locked the shop doors and hopped into a cab to meet his friends at a bar deeper in the city.

They played and played and played. Never stopping, never taking a break, never giving me a moment of quiet. Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan?

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I had internally screamed back at the question that was taking up all the space inside my head, like a blanket being draped over my brain, all I could think about was that damn question.

I didn't want to think about that question. Didn't want to think about what it would mean if I answered it, or even allowed myself to truly think about what the answer might be. I didn't want to think about her and him, her and anyone, or her alone. I just wanted my mind to be quiet.

Link never brought up the topic while we were out, though I know that he knows it was the reason I was being even quieter than usual. His friends, friends that have known me as long as they've known my brother, didn't think twice about my mood. No one really talked to me, no one pestered and annoyed me, and no one said her name. No one provoked me to drink as much and as fast as I did - but I did.

Because I desperately wanted that question, that broken record inside my mind to stop. I needed it to be quiet.

And after a while, there was silence.

-----------------------------

I stagger out of the cab, waving to my brother and the two other guys in the car before it drives away. I can still hear their laughter as it makes its way down the street. I don't know what they're laughing about, probably something vulgar that Pete said. It'd been like that all night, them joking and laughing while playing darts or taking shots - and me, sitting on the very edge of their group, there but also not there. Even when the mantra in my mind had stopped, I still didn't want to interact with them. I didn't want to go home, but I didn't want to be there - not with them at least.

I wanted her.

Drink after drink, all I could think was how I wanted her there. But every time the thought crossed my mind, I slammed a door shut on it, because if I dared to think about it - then I might just discover my answer to Syd's question.

But I did, I wanted her there. I wanted her to force me to play darts. I wanted her to drag me to the dance floor. I wanted her to laugh and throw her head back as she did so. I wanted to see the sparkle in her blue eyes. I wanted -

No.

I can't.

Or...can I?

I make my way inside the building, walking slowly since the floor seems to be moving and the room spinning. There's no one on the elevator as I step inside, fumbling with the buttons before finally hitting the right one. As the elevator makes its way up, I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

I swear I could fall asleep standing in this elevator. I hadn't even realized that I'm tired. Or maybe I'm just that drunk, who knows?

I watch as the numbers on the elevator climb and I try not to think about the girl next door.

But why shouldn't I think of her?

Why shouldn't I try to figure out if I have - if I have feelings for her? What's the worse that could happen? No, I know the answer to that question. But...it could be worth it, right?

A small part of my mind, a part that I've been keeping hidden and silenced for months now, opens up just a crack. I allow myself to think the thoughts that I've been forcing myself to bury, bury so deep down that I forgot I ever thought them in the first place.

Maybe she can save me. Maybe she can help me be the person I want to be. Maybe she can help me, teach me, break me out of this prison I hold myself captive in. I know she can - she's done it already. I'm different with her, I'm me when I'm with her. Maybe I can be me all the time. But I need her help, I need her encouraging smile, her patience, her understanding and her hand in mine.

I need her.

I want her.

The elevator doors slide open and before me are two doors.

I can step to the right, dig my keys out of my pocket and collapse in my bed, putting this entire day behind me. I'll wake up in the morning with a clearer head, no regrets, and no secret thoughts being put out into the open.

Or I can step to the left, knock on her door and see what happens. I can take a chance.

Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan? The broken record starts to play again.

I step out of the elevator and look between the two doors.

Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan?

I don't even know what time it is. She would be asleep, she could be - she could be with him.

The thought sends that feeling through me again, the one from earlier, where my heart drops and my skin boils.

That feeling is enough to make me turn to the left. If it all goes to hell then I'll just blame it on the alcohol.

Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan?

I'm in front of her door now, arm raised as my fist is about to make contact. I take a breath, my head feeling heavy and my heart racing. It's the alcohol I tell myself, even if I don't fully believe it.

Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan?

I knock. Once. Twice.

I'm about to knock again when I hear footsteps and see a bit of light pool out from under the door as she flips a switch.

Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan?

The door opens, slowly at first as she peeks through the crack. Once she sees that it's me, she pulls it all the way open, her voice sleepy as she blinks and stands before me. "Ryker?"

Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan?

Her blonde hair, the color so vibrant and unique that I've never been able to draw it quite right, is wavy and falling around her face as she yawns. Her face is bare, not even a quick brush of mascara on her lashes, and yet she still looks radiant. My eyes linger on her face for a moment, taking in all her features as if it's the first time I've ever seen her.

She looks confused but also concerned, and when my eyes finally leave her face and take notice of her short sleep shorts and a worn out Yankees t shirt - wait. That's my t shirt.

Ryan is wearing my t shirt, sleeping in my shirt. I'd forgotten that she even had it. How long has it been since she borrowed it and how many nights has she been sleeping in it?

"Ry, are you okay? "She takes a step closer, almost as if she's about to reach for me.

My hand twitches to draw her - but not like I've been doing for months now. No, I don't want to draw her as elements, weather, or characters. I don't want to draw her personality coming to life, not anymore.

I want to draw her.

Ryker, do you - do you have feelings for Ryan? The record asks again.

Yes. I answer it.