Hey y'all, so this is basically the prologue to my new fic called 'keep me grounded.' and I really hope you guys go ahead and check it out. It's a ryden fic and, to sum it up, Brendon is an escort/prostitute but gets hired by famous!Ryan. Not for sex, but only for his company to a party; after a whole night seeing Brendon charm the socks off of every important person there, Ryan decides that he needs to see him again.
Anyways, here is my prologue/preview of the damned thing. And I hope you guys go ahead and check it out if you like it.
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I watched him get inside his car and roll out from my driveway again, my back sore and bleeding but not as hurt as I thought I'd be. My chest was doing that too-tight-to-breathe thing it always does and I had to force myself to tear my eyes away. I hated him with every fiber of my body, not because of what he's done but who he is, and it irked me because who was I to say crap about it? I sometimes think that, had I been someone more, maybe even kept my meet-and-greets open for just an hour longer, I could have been good enough for him.
I don't like saying that things between us were to stay physical, that I guess I got a little too invested. I think that story sounds a little familiar to you-- very familiar, in fact.
Did he intend for it to stay that way? I don't know. Most likely. He didn't say anything about it to me at the time, and he still isn't saying anything to me now, and surprisingly I still talk to him now.
I remember that I had closed the door behind me and made the walk of shame towards my liquor cabinet. I don't think I was never really the alcoholic back then, but remember that he completely tore me in two. As did with you, from what I heard. You can't tell me that I didn't tell you so.
I poured the liquid into a glass when I hear my phone buzz. A text. I remember telling myself that I should respond, I really should, but I didn't want to. Like you now, I gave less of a crap about work at that moment and honestly, I still don't. Only difference between me then and me now was... well... probably nothing. Except for the kind of whiskey that I was nursing, maybe.
You know, I still don't remember if that text was from him or from work. Either way I didn't give a shit.
You asked me before if he ever came back after that day? If this was ever a normal routine, or if he mysteriously came back and apologized for how he just seemingly disappeared? Well... yeah. He did. For the past couple years he always came back, always with those same old excuses and those half-assed apologies, and I let him. I always ate them up like that was my first meal in years.
He'd always kept it up until very recently and I think you know why. I can say with confidence that yes: we've been 'talking' like this for way longer than you two have. Or, as you'd put it, "fucking."
I don't understand why he was never up front to you about it, about us. But don't act like you've always spoken the truth just because he found ways to avoid your questions.
Despite all of this, I do want to say that I am sorry for everything that you've went through, mainly because I was on the shit end once. I'm sorry that you didn't really get what you really signed up for (or what he signed up for, I don't know, that whole prostitution thing is confusing) and I'm sorry that everything kind of fell into the way it is now.
I want to tell you "No hard feelings, man," but I'm afraid that I'll have to admit to you that I do have hard feelings. For example, I really don't give a damn about the times you've cried about him not being there for you. You were busy dancing around to get to the point, thinking he'd actually pay attention, but you only ended up losing plenty of valuable time with him. In a way, I thank you, because I had been able to spend his said wasted time with him.
I'm not even going to end this with an apology, because I don't feel any sort of apologetic-ness towards you. I do not pity you. Or perhaps I should keep it simple, and say that "I'm not sorry for not giving a shit about your life story?" I know I exceed his expectations, while you still attempt to reach the bare minimum. You're not going to get there anytime soon, so stop trying.
He does not deserve someone like you. He really doesn't.
