There was something about police stations that really put Ryan on edge, more so than usual.
Ryan James was a boy without a surname. A boy without a family to take a surname from. So, he stuck with a middle name in place of it. But even that was used far less than a particular tone he heard every other day which may as well have taken the place of his first name. A voice of a sharp, loud 'Ryan!' in the heat of a fight while his fist met cheek, or wall, or stomach or anything it could possibly meet. Which might have been why he was at a police station to begin with.
Not only was Ryan James a surnameless boy, but he was also a boy of sorrow. Pitiful, constant sorrow he rarely let bore on his lips. He had the story, the generic backstory of an innocent boy turned villain. Lost parents, too much violence both from himself and the people around him, and a temper. They worked against him. Or, he at least wanted them to. Yet, that wasn't the case.
People fawned over him.
He didn't understand why. Well, he didn't for a while. Then he realised that the appeal of fixing broken things was stronger than he first imagined. No amount of dirty glares, venomous words and sometimes fists to cheeks would deter the people who couldn't take what he had to offer but would accept what he wasn't willing to give.
It was almost disgusting.
But this? This was far worse.
Police stations were a weird mixture of busy and so oddly void all at the same time. He could hear life further in, he could see the people sat at reception send him and his friends glares every so often. Every once in a while, people would pass and look towards them all. He knew what they saw. A rough boy, his nose still bloody with his equally as bloodied friends who only ever caused trouble.
It made him sick to his stomach and he wasn't sure if it was because it was true or because he wished it wasn't. No matter what it was, it didn't change the fact that their perceptions of them were probably correct.
"James," a voice caught him, pulling his attention from the far wall full of posters about being safe, following the law and current events. Instead, he met the grey eyes of a boy he almost hated as much as he hated the place he sat in.
"Dick."
Ricky. Richard. Dick. Or, to Ryan and his friends, Dicky Ricky. A foul boy, tall, slender, mildly attractive and as punchable as they come with a smirk that bore the horror of Ryan's hatred, the aggression, the violence, all in a single slanted smirk.
He was the reason they were all there.
He stood silently at the entrance of the station, guided by a police officer who abandoned him and went to the front desk while he approached. It looked like he was caught despite his earlier attempt at running from what had put them all here in the first place.
A fight. A typical fight that usually wasn't a big deal. Only, their timing was off and it just so happened that a police car was passing them by when things took a turn for the worst. Of course, Ricky and his friends went running while Ryan and his friends were left to deal with the mess. It seemed by the lack of company with Ricky, that he wasn't as fast as his friends were.
At least they weren't at school though.
"You could at least give me a warmer welcome, James." Ricky remarked as he stood over Ryan with crossed arms, looking down at him as he practically laid in his chair, mostly hanging off of it with his legs pushed out in front of him. "You're lucky we were stopped because by the looks of you, you were losing that fight."
Ricky was blatantly subtle, just like always. A flick of his chin in a certain direction, a swirl of his finger. He never said anything outright. Crime ran through his blood like water ran through streams. It was just the way he was, it was a way of life, or, his life at least. Yet he was so unsubtle at the same time. He couldn't distinguish the right time and place from the wrong. This certainly wasn't the place to be having an argument.
Ryan scoffed, but it didn't stop Ricky from taking the last empty seat which was beside him. Leo sat on his opposite side, staying quiet in his hopes to not get into anymore trouble while a few seats away, Ryan could hear hushed mutters from Oscar and Joel.
"'Was wondering when you'd turn up," Ryan said, running a hand through silver hair that turned to a dark brown so dark, it was mistakable to black at the roots, he would have to redo it soon. "You've been missing for the past hour."
"So have you."
"I can at least face consequences without running away," Ryan scoffed, "Did your friends all leave you behind, or did they rat you out?"
"Keep it up, James, and you'll find a fist to your nose," Ricky said, unfaltering. "Your girlfriends are all being quiet. You all upset that you got caught or something? Gonna cry about it?"
Ryan shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows and turned his sharp green eyes he was once told looked just like his mothers. Once. That person was colour blind though. He decided to say nothing, he didn't want to give Ricky the satisfaction of his frustration when frankly, he was too tired to really care. He was already in enough trouble as it was, he wasn't going to make it worse for himself.
He turned away instead, sick of the conversation with Ricky and looked to the group of boys beside him. They looked as fed up as the other, though, this wasn't an entirely new situation. They each knew they would face far worse consequences later for this mess than anything the police could do. Ryan more so. And, that showed as the group all looked towards Ryan every so often, just to check on him. He was glad they were there with him at the very least, but still just as guilty.
His friends were always nearby, their eyes on him at all times even when he didn't think they were. There was a reason they were his friends, and there was a reason they would be his only friends.
He met the blue eyes of Leo Stavins as he lost himself to a brief moment of thought.
Leo was mature, smooth, serene. Everything Ryan wished he could be. But, he wasn't and he knew he would never be Leo because there was only one Leo. Ashy brown hair, always with a hint of a smile, flashing the subtle mark of curved lips as a form of a weapon. His smile, the handsome one that was so pristine and as put together as he was, was what made him so unapproachable. It was too perfect, it made people wary to approach because while it was kind, it was the sort of smile that made you think 'wow, that boy has everything. He wouldn't ever need me, I'll only ruin his day.'
"Please tell me you two just decided to sink your differences," Leo spoke, his voice was exactly like you would expect. Low, relaxed, soothing. It felt like how you would imagine running soft fingers over silk would feel.
"What does that mean?" Ricky's head tilted, his upturned nose lifting enough to see that it was still partially bloody. An earlier success on Ryan's part.
"You've made peace."
"Hell no," Ricky pretty much yelled back, his lips curling into a frown and his hand wiping across his shaven head. "Never."
"Oh, well fuck you too then, dick" Ryan retorted.
It was easy to get away with calling him a dick when it was so easy to mistaken dick for Dick.
"What do you want then?" Ryan continued, watching his other friends turn to him every few seconds to see that the conversation didn't get out of hand. "Why're you talking to me?"
"Got nothin' better to do."
It was, in Ryan's mind, a valid point... If it came from anyone other than Ricky. The rivalry between them ran too deep, the feud went on too long to easily disregard it in the hopes of washing the boredom away. He could have sat on the opposite side of the room and left them alone, sat and used his phone. Anything. But no, he wanted to pester Ryan and his friends, ruining their day bit by bit.
What an asshole.
"Man," Ricky continued, "think they'll let me out for five minutes for a smoke?"
"Doubt it."
He thought for a moment, looked to the people sat by reception and shrugged his shoulders and stood up. He didn't need to ask. But, he did turn to Ryan and raise an eyebrow.
"Smoke?"
There was a moment of hesitation.
"Ryan," a voice tried, it tested him to accept the offering.
Fox, the tallest of the five, leaned forwards against his knees, his bored eyes were firm on him and Ryan didn't even need to turn around to see that he had the look. It was almost impossible to describe. It was like a father seeing his kid do what they shouldn't and take on the role of a mother. The wrongness to it was what made it so complicated. Fox's face never bore anything other than the boredom of life. Unshifting, rarely smiling despite feeling happy. And the hat. God, the baseball hat didn't help when it cast a shadow over his eyes. And that hat was as constant as his bored expression. It never came off of his brown-haired head. Ever. If it wasn't for the fact that Ryan saw it come off most nights when he stayed overnight with the others, he would have thought the hat was part of him.
"No," Ryan huffed, shaking his head. "I thought you knew not to stoop to that level, Dick."
"Oh, so we can punch and kick 'till the other is knocked out cold on the pavement, but we can't offer a cigarette? Seems dumb. Then again, it is coming from you."
"Fuck you."
"You wish."
They turned, leaving it at that as Ricky took confident strides out of the doors and left without recieving even a single comment. He likely wouldn't come back... they hoped he wouldn't come back.
For once, Ryan had a latch of control on himself. If it were anywhere else, Ricky would already have been given another bloody nose. But, not here. Ryan wasn't an idiot.
Police were everywhere, watching them and making sure they weren't causing trouble. The resources needed to be put somewhere else, honestly. Somewhere in the city, somebody was likely being tortured. But, what was Ryan going to do? Take down the Government? Maybe one day, not on this day though. He was too tired.
"How long do we have to wait?" A voice sighed, forcing Ryan to turn to the end of the row of seats he sat at.
"Another few hours, probably." Ryan shrugged, knowing that Joel, the youngest of the group of five, wasn't as well acquainted to this experience as he and the others were. Usually, they sent him away so he didn't get involved in fights. "Can't believe this all happened over a fuckin' bottle of water. Stupid water."
"Are you getting annoyed over a bottle of water, Ryan?" Joel turned, looking up at his sharp eyed, silver-haired friend with his own eyes of a puppy.
Joel Collins, in every sense other than literal, was a golden retriever. He had those deep eyes, wide and full of life if he had gotten enough sleep the night before. He was shorter, bouncier and at times, too cuddly. Everything was a curiosity to him, he always had questions. The mess of sandy blonde hair on his head, swept to the side but still difficult to tame entirely, was soft enough to pat and golden enough to mimic the golden retriever personality. Ryan often wondered if he even knew how puppy-like he was, being a year younger than everyone else.
"Am I not allowed?"
"Well, yeah," Joel nodded, "but why the bottle specifically?"
"'Cause if we didn't have that water, Ricky wouldn't have taken it and thrown it, then I wouldn't have lost my temper... stupid water."
"I think it's mostly Ricky's fault."
"Well yeah, but it gets boring blaming it on him all the time. He always starts it... not saying it's not his fault though."
Their conversation was cut short as the sound of the doors opening caught their attention along with the voices that spoke over the squeak of the doors. Ryan, by this point, decided to sit himself up properly in his seat but continued to slouch forwards against his knees, his head in his hands as two shadows emerged from around the corner before the figures did.
The day was already pretty bright, but the white synthetic lights that shone above them made the first figure even clearer as he stepped into view. A tall broad man, his dark brown hair peppered with slight grey as a sign of aging, his frame and face one you wouldn't argue nor mess with.
"Morning Roderick," the receptionist called, then, noticing a second figure, she sweetened her smile. "Oh, hey honey!"
"Hi!" A voice called back. A girl, sweet and cheerful, or that's what Ryan could gather from her tone.
Then, there she was, her appearance contradicting everything he thought.
She rounded the corner, getting closer to the receptionists desk with the taller man and gazed around the room curiously, her eyes setting on the group of five towards the side of the room briefly in her curiosity. She looked pretty sweet, big eyes that reminded Ryan of Joel and his doe eyes, however, hers were decorated with a subtle shade of purple beneath. She was also covered in cuts and bruises, her lip was bust just like Fox's was. It was an odd contradiction, to look so harmless but also be covered in violence.
"Oh," the receptionist gasped at the sight of her, "what happened?"
"I was-"
"She was an idiot." The man interrupted before she could answer.
"That too." She agreed.
"You shouldn't say that, Roderick," The receptionist scolded before turning back to her. "I'm sure you weren't an idiot."
"No, I was. I should learn to stay away from stairs." The girl shrugged, leaning against the desk to speak to the woman while the man turned and met Ryan's eyes.
Ryan sank at the familiarity of the man. Chief Hemms.
His eyebrow rose as he glanced over them all.
"Uh oh..."
And there was the voice of Oscar.
Oscar Worsley, boy of dreams and purple hair. He was not ordinary and took offence if you even began to think it. Ordinary, he thought, was like a God sinking to human shape only to come out looking like the rest of us. He wanted to be his own being, his own Oscar. Sure, there were other Oscar's in the world, but none would ever be Oscar. He wasn't the brightest, but he didn't need to be bright to be happy when he had a vibrant smile that glowed brighter than any when it actually showed up. Like sun on a rainy day. To be happy, he needed fun. And to have fun, he needed to be Oscar.
Such a complicated boy with simple needs.
"Boys." Chief Hemms said as he approached, arms crossing over his chest while the girl stayed back and watched. "I wish I was surprised. Let me guess... Another fight?"
"What gave it away?" Ryan asked, "the bloody noses?"
"You lot are lucky Stewart vouches for you so often," he shook his head in response. "I trust him, so I won't doubt his judgement, but if you keep turning up here, we're going to have a serious issue. What happened this time?"
"Ricky." Leo answered, giving everything away. Chief Hemms nodded for him to continue, already knowing where this story was going. It was the same every time. "We were on our way to school when-"
Ryan, at that point, was forced to zone out.
It was difficult to focus when somebody was so blatantly staring at you, so he didn't even try. Instead, he narrowed his eyes towards the girl who had come in with Chief Hemms. She was staring at him with wide eyes, her body completely still as though he had caught her by surprise, like she knew him. But, he didn't know her at all.
"...In that case," he heard Chief Hemms speak up, and his attention snapped back to the conversation while the girl turned to the desk, grabbed a pen and wrote on the back of her hand. "I'll let you off with a warning. But I'll have to call your parents and let them know what happened- next time I won't be so forgiving. This is happening too often."
There was a slight falter amongst the group as he went to turn around. But Oscar, as the brave guy he was, spoke up and Ryan felt himself let a subtle sigh escape him in both relief and anxiousness.
"Uh- can you maybe not call Ryan's parents?"
He turned, glanced them all over with a squint to his eyes, then waited for the reason why he shouldn't.
"He's, y'know, going through stuff..." Oscar continued, trying to speak around the subject. "Maybe you could call Stewart instead?"
"Stewart isn't your legal guardian."
"He might as well be though."
A sigh and subtle head shake was all it took for the man to make his choice as he turned around to face the girl and, much more gently than he looked like he could, he placed a hand on her back and guided her further in to the police station as he began to slowly make his way out while giving his final word.
"Like I said, this time I'm letting you off with a warning. But next time, I have to call, do you understand? If you don't like that, then don't cause trouble. It's as simple as that."
Then he was gone, leaving the boys in silence as they sat for a moment longer, thankful that they had the right sort of friends. The knew they owed Stewart big time, and they also knew that they were lucky that Chief Hemms was familiar with them from all the times he visited Stewart while they were around. Now they were left to gather themselves and make their way back South where they would likely spend the day at The Cafe again.
Another typical day.