Reforming Society •• OneRepublic {2}

True Paradise

Ryan's P.O.V.

Three more days went by, but it was as if Ryan ran into a brick wall that was invisible prior to these days. That brick wall was Nikki reminding him that they now had to stay at the studio even if they weren't working. Which also meant from five in the morning to eleven or twelve at night.

If Ryan didn't have a fiancee who was in a near-irreversible state of depression and self-loathing, he really wouldn't mind as much. Ryan did text her at least once every day to make sure she was doing alright, but knew it was easier for her to lie over text. Even a phone call wasn't proof enough. When he did see her, she was sleeping (or so he thought, even). He was also too tired whenever he got home - surely Nikki's intended effect on all of them - to do anything like talk to her. He was beginning to forget the last time he told her he loved her to her face.

Yet when he got home on this third day of working late, he found Ramona awake for once, writing in the black journal he'd read just the other day as she sat cross-legged on their bed, the bedside lamp spreading yellow light over the room. Ramona, however, was also in the clothes he last remembered seeing her in...a few days ago. Her hair was unkempt and looked oily. He couldn't see her face while her faded blue hair hid it from view.

Ryan made sure he made noise when he came in so she would know he was finally home, and when she heard him she gasped softly as she looked up, closing her journal quickly and turning to put it away. Ryan didn't question this and instead looked at her face. There was a subtle lack of color and she looked exhausted. Ryan wouldn't be surprised if she really was faking sleeping every time he came home.

"I thought you were going to stay later."

"Me too. But we should talk about you."

He gestured to her, feeling bad for being so straightforward about it, and Ramona's face fell as much as it could go.

"What about me?"

She sounded defensive. It's what she did when she felt attacked, naturally. She was a Scorpio, after all, and a scorpion puts its stinger up when it feels threatened. Ryan was lucky to have enough experience to know what to do at this point.

"You look sick, is all. Are you feeling alright?"

Ramona relaxed a little, clearly expecting criticism.

"I'm fine."

Yes, and then she moves on to reluctant lies. This is all familiar from when she was still struggling leaving Shawn.

"No, you're not."

Ramona's shoulders slumped a bit in defeat, and Ryan slowly went to sit beside her. The closer he got, the worse she looked. The bags under her eyes were prominent, her eyes were glassy, and some of her makeup was still smeared over her cheeks. Her hair really could use a wash, too.

"Ramona," Ryan barely managed to speak further, "I told you to let me in. You can't keep putting up your walls like this."

Ramona merely shrugged. Ryan had no clue what to say and he looked at her a long time while she looked everywhere but his face. As usual when she was upset.

"Ramona, what's wrong?"

Ramona shook her head, still avoiding his eyes.

"Is that an 'I won't tell you,' or a 'nothing,' which is a lie?"

Still, Ramona did not look him in the face. Ryan grew slightly impatient, but still did not deign to show this. He gently put his hand under her chin and encouraged her to look at him, which she finally did. He hated when her eyes looked so sad.