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andariell wrote some SV to the Counting Crows ‘A Long December’ which a) was brilliant and b) threw me because I’d been contemplating using the same song for some O.C. stuff. When I told her this, she said it shouldn’t deter me. So.
For Andy.
When December Falls
And it’s one more day up in the canyons
And it’s one more night in Hollywood
If you think you might come to California...I think you should
Ryan’s sticks his tongue out for one second to catch the tiny flakes that fall out of a hazy gray sky, and his first snowfall tastes like smog and dirt. Sometimes he thinks he’s never seen the city any other way. Gray. Dark. Impersonal.
The antithesis of California living.
He hunches his shoulders a bit, pulling his coat tighter around his body, but the cold cuts through as though he’s wearing nothing at all. He’s not too tough to know when he needs a scarf and hat, and this sort of winter is something he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to, but he’ll have to try. He doesn’t really have much choice.
This is the decision he made.
Bright lights. Yellow taxis. The constant pounding of people crushing other people just to get by.
This is a life he already knows; New York is just on a larger scale.
Newport was a bubble. It wasn’t “the real world,” and Ryan does best in the real world.
It’s best to hide in plain sight.
He looks around at the people shuffling down the streets without looking at their surroundings and knows that he’s not the only one. In a city of strangers, he belongs, and that’s what makes this okay.
The wind picks up, and the snowflakes blow around him as though he were a figure in one of his mother’s snow globes.
When the light changes, he flicks away the cigarette that’s been burning between his fingers and crosses the street.
His boots leave slushy prints that will soon be gone.
*
It doesn’t snow where Ryan comes from, and he tells himself that this is why he went to school here, out east, because he was desperate for something different. Someplace where he wasn’t ‘Chino’ or ‘Trey’s little brother.’
Here, in the city, he can be whomever he wants.
He tells himself that his decision had nothing to do with Marissa. Or Teresa. Or Seth. Or anybody else.
He tells himself that NYU is a great school, because it is. If he does well here, he can do anything; he can go anywhere. He can take care of the people who took care of him. He can bring Sandy that pastrami he likes at Chrismukkah, and he can buy Kirsten nice things with the money he’ll eventually earn.
He’ll be able to take care of himself. That’s all he’s wanted for as long as he can remember.
He doesn’t like to think about how Seth looked when he announced his decision.
He doesn’t like to think about how Marissa yelled that he was abandoning her.
Instead he thinks about how proud Sandy and Kirsten were.
Instead of thinking about his mother, he thinks about how far he’s come.
He doesn’t call Newport much. He thinks it’s better this way.
*
Ryan chose to disappear, to go where people brush by him as though he’s not even there, and he’s not sure if this comforts him or distresses him. Sometimes he wants to be seen. Sometimes he’s glad he’s not.
In most of his classes he’s just a Social Security Number and that suits him just fine. Nobody knows him, and he doesn’t have to live up to any expectations.
He tells himself this is why he left in the first place. It was easier to go away than pretend, because he did love her. He does love her. He just loves other people, too, and he wasn’t expecting that at all.
Every time he thinks he has what he wants; he finds out he wants something else instead.
Maybe this is why the only photograph in his apartment has both Marissa and Seth.
*
He doesn’t announce that he’s coming home for winter break. He doesn’t ask for a plane ticket. Instead he takes a Greyhound from Port Authority, and it takes him three days to cross the country.
He arrives at the Irvine bus station late on Christmas Eve, smelling of smoke, sweat and other people. There’s no closer bus station to Newport.
He has a taxi driver take him home, except he makes sure to be dropped off at the gate for reasons that escape him at the time.
Newport is where he's from now, even though he tries to convince himself otherwise. And as he walks the mile and a half home, he peels off the layers of clothing that east coast living requires.
By the time he hits the driveway, he’s wearing a tee shirt and jeans, and it’s like he never left.
The lights are out when he walks up the foot of the driveway, and he can hear the clinking of glasses and the stilted laughter coming from the Cooper's backyard. The Annual Christmas Party is in full tilt without a doubt. In his mind, he can see Summer and Anna and Kirsten and Sandy. He can see Seth’s grandfather and Mrs. Cooper. He can even see Marissa and Oliver.
He thinks they’re probably dating by now, even though he hasn’t asked. He minds in a vague way that he tries not to think too hard about.
There’s fake snow in the living room, and his stocking is up, which makes him smile. When he looks closer he sees the card a fraction away from disappearing inside, and in Seth’s loopy scrawl all it says is: Just in case you come back, I’ll be around.
Ryan stares at the card for a long time, and when the stairs creak behind him, he’s not really surprised.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Cooper’s Christmas Party?” he asks, turning around, and smirking at Seth’s pajamas and tee shirt.
He’s missed the strange sounds Seth makes when he’s amused. “Dude, I’m all dressed. I was just sitting around waiting on you. I know how you New York people like to be fashionably late.”
“You knew I was coming back?”
“Everybody comes home for Chrismukkah,” Seth says.
“Maybe it’s not about Chrismukkah,” Ryan points out. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”
Seth’s smile is all the things that New York will never be. Warm. Safe. Home.
Sometimes Ryan wishes he had never left.
Sometimes, like now, when Seth’s hugging him, he pretends he never has.
-end-
Improv: crushed, bright, pound, bubble, smoke provided byserialkarma. This is for you, too, munchkin. And Jess. I’m glad you’re mobile.
Inspired by A Long December by Counting Crows, Bright Lights by Matchbox 20 and these images thatcallmesandy dumped on me.
andariell wrote some SV to the Counting Crows ‘A Long December’ which a) was brilliant and b) threw me because I’d been contemplating using the same song for some O.C. stuff. When I told her this, she said it shouldn’t deter me. So. For Andy.
And it’s one more day up in the canyons
And it’s one more night in Hollywood
If you think you might come to California...I think you should
Ryan’s sticks his tongue out for one second to catch the tiny flakes that fall out of a hazy gray sky, and his first snowfall tastes like smog and dirt. Sometimes he thinks he’s never seen the city any other way. Gray. Dark. Impersonal.
The antithesis of California living.
He hunches his shoulders a bit, pulling his coat tighter around his body, but the cold cuts through as though he’s wearing nothing at all. He’s not too tough to know when he needs a scarf and hat, and this sort of winter is something he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to, but he’ll have to try. He doesn’t really have much choice.
This is the decision he made.
Bright lights. Yellow taxis. The constant pounding of people crushing other people just to get by.
This is a life he already knows; New York is just on a larger scale.
Newport was a bubble. It wasn’t “the real world,” and Ryan does best in the real world.
It’s best to hide in plain sight.
He looks around at the people shuffling down the streets without looking at their surroundings and knows that he’s not the only one. In a city of strangers, he belongs, and that’s what makes this okay.
The wind picks up, and the snowflakes blow around him as though he were a figure in one of his mother’s snow globes.
When the light changes, he flicks away the cigarette that’s been burning between his fingers and crosses the street.
His boots leave slushy prints that will soon be gone.
It doesn’t snow where Ryan comes from, and he tells himself that this is why he went to school here, out east, because he was desperate for something different. Someplace where he wasn’t ‘Chino’ or ‘Trey’s little brother.’
Here, in the city, he can be whomever he wants.
He tells himself that his decision had nothing to do with Marissa. Or Teresa. Or Seth. Or anybody else.
He tells himself that NYU is a great school, because it is. If he does well here, he can do anything; he can go anywhere. He can take care of the people who took care of him. He can bring Sandy that pastrami he likes at Chrismukkah, and he can buy Kirsten nice things with the money he’ll eventually earn.
He’ll be able to take care of himself. That’s all he’s wanted for as long as he can remember.
He doesn’t like to think about how Seth looked when he announced his decision.
He doesn’t like to think about how Marissa yelled that he was abandoning her.
Instead he thinks about how proud Sandy and Kirsten were.
Instead of thinking about his mother, he thinks about how far he’s come.
He doesn’t call Newport much. He thinks it’s better this way.
Ryan chose to disappear, to go where people brush by him as though he’s not even there, and he’s not sure if this comforts him or distresses him. Sometimes he wants to be seen. Sometimes he’s glad he’s not.
In most of his classes he’s just a Social Security Number and that suits him just fine. Nobody knows him, and he doesn’t have to live up to any expectations.
He tells himself this is why he left in the first place. It was easier to go away than pretend, because he did love her. He does love her. He just loves other people, too, and he wasn’t expecting that at all.
Every time he thinks he has what he wants; he finds out he wants something else instead.
Maybe this is why the only photograph in his apartment has both Marissa and Seth.
He doesn’t announce that he’s coming home for winter break. He doesn’t ask for a plane ticket. Instead he takes a Greyhound from Port Authority, and it takes him three days to cross the country.
He arrives at the Irvine bus station late on Christmas Eve, smelling of smoke, sweat and other people. There’s no closer bus station to Newport.
He has a taxi driver take him home, except he makes sure to be dropped off at the gate for reasons that escape him at the time.
Newport is where he's from now, even though he tries to convince himself otherwise. And as he walks the mile and a half home, he peels off the layers of clothing that east coast living requires.
By the time he hits the driveway, he’s wearing a tee shirt and jeans, and it’s like he never left.
The lights are out when he walks up the foot of the driveway, and he can hear the clinking of glasses and the stilted laughter coming from the Cooper's backyard. The Annual Christmas Party is in full tilt without a doubt. In his mind, he can see Summer and Anna and Kirsten and Sandy. He can see Seth’s grandfather and Mrs. Cooper. He can even see Marissa and Oliver.
He thinks they’re probably dating by now, even though he hasn’t asked. He minds in a vague way that he tries not to think too hard about.
There’s fake snow in the living room, and his stocking is up, which makes him smile. When he looks closer he sees the card a fraction away from disappearing inside, and in Seth’s loopy scrawl all it says is: Just in case you come back, I’ll be around.
Ryan stares at the card for a long time, and when the stairs creak behind him, he’s not really surprised.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Cooper’s Christmas Party?” he asks, turning around, and smirking at Seth’s pajamas and tee shirt.
He’s missed the strange sounds Seth makes when he’s amused. “Dude, I’m all dressed. I was just sitting around waiting on you. I know how you New York people like to be fashionably late.”
“You knew I was coming back?”
“Everybody comes home for Chrismukkah,” Seth says.
“Maybe it’s not about Chrismukkah,” Ryan points out. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”
Seth’s smile is all the things that New York will never be. Warm. Safe. Home.
Sometimes Ryan wishes he had never left.
Sometimes, like now, when Seth’s hugging him, he pretends he never has.
-end-
Improv: crushed, bright, pound, bubble, smoke provided by
serialkarma. This is for you, too, munchkin. And Jess. I’m glad you’re mobile. Inspired by A Long December by Counting Crows, Bright Lights by Matchbox 20 and these images that
callmesandy dumped on me.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 01:36 pm (UTC)This was really beautiful imagery, and such great Ryan characterization. It was exactly the right amount of subtext, too. Very bittersweet and affecting.
I loved this line: He thinks they’re probably dating by now, even though he hasn’t asked. He minds in a vague way that he tries not too think too hard about. Fits very well, because even if God knows I'm not a fan of the whole Ryan/Marissa thing...this was nice.
Also, those photos of Ben? Saw those yesterday and they pretty much killed me.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:19 am (UTC)I loved this line: He thinks they’re probably dating by now, even though he hasn’t asked. He minds in a vague way that he tries not too think too hard about. Fits very well, because even if God knows I'm not a fan of the whole Ryan/Marissa thing...this was nice.
I'm not a big fan either, or a fan period for that matter, but I can't just ignore how crazy about her he is. No matter how I may want too. *sigh*
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 01:40 pm (UTC)I still love this.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:19 am (UTC)Oh, you have your first Ryan icon. I'm so proud!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 01:46 pm (UTC)That's all. This is adorable and I love it and you for writing it and for the little moment of glee I get when I see you've written new OC. ::snogs::
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:22 am (UTC)*grins happily*
Your icon is making me think LOTRips thoughts. This is bad. I've been fighting them off all morning long, but their really strong now. Nuts.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:40 am (UTC)*g*
I love that it's a picture of a shoe that's making you lotripsy. I mean, it's a fairly innocent shoe - it could be anyone's. But of course it's not and it's so very Elijah; more so even than a picture of him, perhaps. <3 the boys.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 01:51 pm (UTC)Hey, those pictures were hot. My friend's decided to watch the OC tonight on the strength of them. :) She even described Ben McKenzie as "dreamy" and then mock-wept about her weakness.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:24 am (UTC)Hey, those pictures were hot. My friend's decided to watch the OC tonight on the strength of them. :) She even described Ben McKenzie as "dreamy" and then mock-wept about her weakness.
You know what's really funny about all this is that I didn't see any of those photos along the bottom until way after I'd written the story. Originally I thought you were just sending me the photo of him in that fleece jacket, and since I'd already been having winter thoughts the whole thing fell into line that way. Thanks for that all the same.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 12:29 pm (UTC)*loves*
Date: 2004-01-07 01:57 pm (UTC)*stretches arms wide apart until fingertips tingle* This much.
Wow, lovely character piece, babe. This is so very, very Ryan. As always, you say just enough to let us know vividly where his head is at, and give us a look into the little moments that make up a life. Subtle subtext and brilliant story, and I'm all glowy that you dedicated it to me *smooch*.
Thanks for sharing this, sweet girl!
Re: *loves*
Date: 2004-01-08 10:27 am (UTC)*stretches arms wide apart until fingertips tingle* This much.
*tickles*
What? You left yourself wide open, I couldn't resist. Anyhoo, I'm thrilled that you enjoyed this so much. I kind of wanted to make it longer and more filled out, but I suspect that Telegraph Avenue took up my quota of words for the next several years. And thank you, for giving me that push I needed to make this happen. It would still be a faint idea if it weren't for you.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 02:24 pm (UTC)I'm not sure whether I feel happy or sad at the end of this, which is what makes it so good.
“Everybody comes home for Chrismukkah,” Seth says.
On the other hand, that line just made me smile. ^^
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:30 am (UTC)Those were my sentiments when I finished it as well. I wasn't sure quite how it was supposed to make me feel, but I liked it all the same, so I'm glad that you did too!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 02:27 pm (UTC)(Now, actually, I'm never incoherent except when I had enough to drink to make it impossible to read anything, let alone turn on a computer. I loved the dreariness of NY and Ryan being anonymous, loved him coming back, loved Seth being there, waiting)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:30 am (UTC)It's all about the Ryan/Seth time! I'm so glad you enjoyed it, thanks!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:31 am (UTC)*laughs* I assure you I'm not doing any of the above, but I'm ever so glad that you enjoyed the story. Thanks for reading!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:33 am (UTC)I think everybody has moments like this in their lives, but you know, you make your own way in this life and your home can be where ever you want it to be.
Okay, enough deep thinking for today!
I'm glad you enjoyed this, thanks for commenting.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 04:09 pm (UTC)And lovely, lovely fic.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:37 am (UTC)random reader
Date: 2004-01-07 07:27 pm (UTC)Re: random reader
Date: 2004-01-08 10:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 07:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:44 am (UTC)I don't mind at all, and welcome to the party. Alcoholic beverage? Cookie?
no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 07:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-08 10:45 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2004-01-13 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-11 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-13 11:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-26 03:39 pm (UTC)“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Cooper’s Christmas Party?” he asks, turning around, and smirking at Seth’s pajamas and tee shirt.
He’s missed the strange sounds Seth makes when he’s amused. “Dude, I’m all dressed. I was just sitting around waiting on you. I know how you New York people like to be fashionably late.”
He's back for five seconds and already Seth has slipped back into joking around him. I love it. Makes me imagine he never left.