Finding our place in this world

More drama and a heart break!?

[Ryan’s POV]

        After Ray left, I settled down on my couch and began cleaning all my weapons. Something was telling me that a war was about to break out between myself and the Fake AH Crew, and Ray was going to be right in the middle of it. He was going to have to choose a side, and I knew that. Did I want him to choose my side? Yes. Was I going to be hurt if he chose the AH Crew? Yes. But the choice was all Ray’s. Once I was done cleaning all my guns, I put them back in their respective places and picked up my knives. I needed to let out some anger, so I figured target practice would help.

            Once I was down stairs in my garage, I began throwing my knives one right after the other in succession, hitting the bull’s-eye almost every time. Pulling them free from the target, I did it once more, throwing, hitting, repeat. It was a natural rhythm for me, I was a mad man to Los Santos. Eventually I grew bored with it and went back upstairs, wiping the sweat off my forehead. I put the knives back in their respective places and grabbed something to eat. I stood next to the window and looked out over Los Santos. Some days I felt like I wanted a fresh start, others I felt fine.

            I had been minding my own business when I heard the knock on my door. I checked the time and raised a brow. Who was visiting me at 2 in the morning? I went and answered the door, and I was shocked to see Ray. He looked miserable and though he’d gotten into a bar fight on the way over here.

“Ray, what’s the matter?” I asked, concerned.

“Ryan, I can’t stay there right now, tensions between Geoff and I are high…” He said, shifting his weight.

            Something told me he wasn’t going to remember this conversation, but I let him in anyway. Once he was inside, he sat down on the couch and dropped his head to his hands. I stood in silence for a long moment before I sat down. I pulled him over to me and wrapped my arms around him. He settled his head on my shoulder and sat there until he started dozing off.

“Hey, Ray. C’mon.” I said. “Let’s move to the bedroom.” I added.

“Carry me?” He mumbled.

            Sighing and giving in, I picked him up and carried him towards the bedroom. Laying him on the bed, I coaxed him out of his clothes and dropped them into a pile on the floor. I laid back with him, making sure he was good and asleep before I stood up and washed his clothes. Folding them, I sat them on a chair I kept in my room and laid down to get even just a few hours’ sleep. Around 9 or 10 am, I got up and moved to the living room to let Ray get some sleep.

            Ray joined me in the living room around noon, sitting close to my side. He didn’t say anything during the whole time we were on the couch, he just stared at the TV. After a moment, Ray stood to get dressed and came back in just as I opened up the door to reveal the rest of the crew, Geoff at the front of them, looking angry. I stepped back and discreetly grabbed a knife to defend myself, in case they attacked. With a raised gun, Geoff stepped forward, staying silent for a moment before he narrowed his eyes.

“You listen to me Ryan Haywood. You so much as /ever/ set foot on 636 property, I’ll blow your brains out.” He said, looking to Ray.

            Glancing between Ray and Geoff, I kept my hands raised in the air. I knew Ray was about to have to make a choice. He stepped into the room quietly, hanging his head as he crossed to the side of the room that the crew was on. As I watched him cross to their side, I felt my heart break. The choice was made. I saw where Ray’s loyalties were, and they clearly weren’t with me. I watched Geoff lower his gun and everyone turned to leave. And just like that, I was left standing with a broken heart.

            When I finally found myself able to move again, I simply moved back to the couch and sat down, setting my hands over my face. Forcing myself to calm down, I finally stood up and went into the bathroom. Applying my normal coat of face paint, I grabbed a few guns, my mask, and a knife. I wasn’t just going to sit around and cry, I was going to go out and get myself arrested, to me that was better than sitting in the place where I had my heart broken by the only person that could put me back together.