When All Hell Breaks Loose

Week Five: Self Contract - Ryusei

So, yeah, throwing the party had been a bad idea. Which Ryusei might have known had he thought more than a half second about it. And failing that, he could have looked at the signs. Which included, first and foremost, a string of texts from Reo.

Dude?

What the hell???

Did you seriously think that I wouldn't find out you're throwing a party?

Okay.

Whatever.

Don't do more than a mil in damages.

Or I'll kill you.

For real.

Which told Ryusei a lot about how Reo saw him as well as how menial he himself was treating the friendship itself. During his great epiphany, he'd thought that he wanted to be wilder, break more rules, care less about everyone else and more about himself, and by some extension of himself, Sae, even if that was toxic, even if it would get him a harsh scolding look from Saichi, but in this action, as he was putting it into practice, he found that he felt bad. Reo had been letting him stay at his place rent free, and sure, he had the means to do so, but he hadn't had to. And Ryusei was thanking him by putting himself right back in the position of having to apologize for his chaotic existence and knowing that one of his closest friends was on the other side of the phone, shaking his little purple bun head, tolerating him more than he was liking him.

Which was something he hadn't minded when he was eighteen, hadn't thought to. At twenty four, well. Shit looked and felt different.

But it was too late and things had gone too far. Meguru, his other close friend, was on the exact opposite side of the spectrum, texting him a play by play of how he'd told everyone, sent blasts into every group chat he was a part of, which was a horrifying amount, social butterfly that he was, alongside every thought going through his mind, including how they were going to have an awesome night. So, whatever. He'd get through it.

And he didn't end up having any fun. Which, again, he could have predicted had he spent the slightest amount of brain power trying to do so, because from the time the first non-Meguru person showed up, Ryusei realized who he was waiting to walk through that door. Every new person, every pair of athletic pants or even the slightest flash of anything remotely pink, and he found himself looking for Sae, Sae, Sae. Who, of course, wasn't coming. He knew that, and yet he was forcibly reminded with every new disappointment. He didn't want anything to do with the party without Sae, and then he felt not only depressed, but stupid.

Saichi was right. He'd come down from his high, realized the mask had been heavy, and there was nothing underneath.

So, he snuck off. Nobody was all that interested in him, anyways. Not once the party was in full swing.

He trusted his friends. Enough, anyways. Not to go over a million in damages.

Ryusei went back to his wing of the house, the one he was currently doing some version of living in, the one with his things all thrown everywhere. Towels on the floor, because he could never remember to hang them up, so he used a new one every shower. Laundry on the floor, some of which had been kicked into a heap. The bed all unmade from when he'd rolled out of in late this morning. Not even Reo's house's magnificent architecture softened the blow of how depressing it all looked. He was getting tired of these realizations, a series of instances where he was reminded how terribly he was failing at life.

And then, the cherry on top, la piece de resistance, his journal sat on the nightside table. Mocking him.

"Okay!" he yelled at it. "I get it! You were right!"