thirteen years ☓ rilaya au [COMPLETED]

three ⇝ lucas friar

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lucas friar, 32

fourteen years ago, you didn't know what you wanted to be. and at seventeen, the end of junior year, you realized you just wanted to graduate.

it was the main question you were asked once a week, "what are your plans for when you get out of high school?"

you grew up in a small town, and moved to the big city, yet your brain was still stuck in that small town.

you didn't want to turn out like your dad, who looked between couches for quarters then lived off his parents inheritance, which wasn't much at all.

your parents divorced a year before you came to new york, your dad ran off leaving you and your little sister with your mom, who seemed to be falling apart as the sun moved across the sky.

(getting transferred was the best thing that ever happened to you.)

"i didn't go to collage. and i barely passed senior year, riley being gone made everything harder."

"how so?" tasha asked.

"she was hope. you can do anything through riley, and school was one thing i couldn't do without riley."

the people can't function without the sun. the sun gives us energy, and without it the world would cease to function.

"why was riley a hope symbol for you all?"

farkle, zay, and maya had gotten off of their stools and sat on a black couch instead. they took away the other three stools, placing them too the side and you nearly fainted when they said they would have individual interviews.

"because she talked about hope all the time, and she had so much of it. riley could basically do anything she wanted because she believed in herself. when your friends with her, the positive outlook she carries rubs off on you. that's what happened, for all of us."

"what was it like when she disappeared?"

"it was like this big light went out in my life. all the sudden, it was just- dark, cold, empty."

"how did you find out?" tasha asked.

"two days after she actually left, they went over the intercom and told the students. me farkle and zay were told that way."

"do you remember how it felt?"

"like dying. it was horrible. i couldn't breathe, and farkle cried, zay just- he had a blank look on his face."

"where was maya?"

you shook your head. "not sure. i imagine grieving."

maya gave a soft smile to you, and you noticed how beautiful she was. she was more angelic and breath taking now, her skin illuminating with a motherly glow.

she hasn't changed much, still a short pankcake... she grew in sophomore year, a little taller then riley. if you didn't know she was 32, you would think she was eighteen again.

her hair was long, touching the middle of her back in those dutch braids. eyes were bluer and bigger, it was all deja vu.

"how did you grieve, lucas?"

you sighed. "i bottled it up till i couldn't anymore. got in trouble, did things i shouldn't have, i went to jail a couple times, then my life changed."

"why did you get in trouble?"

"that's how i expressed myself, when i get angry i turn violent. and i was angry for a while."

"is that why you went to jail?"

"yes. they were all for fighting."

"did those charges impact your future?"

"like i said miss, i never went to collage. i worked at a gas station for a while, then met my wife lisette. we got tired of the city and moved out to the fields, we own a feed store there and run our own business. people don't really look at your record when you're the owner."

"is your business doing well?"

you nodded. "we live near the farms, so there's a lot of people that need animal food."

"good." tasha said, turning the page on her notebook.

"do you have kids?"

"yes. five."

you love them so much. your oldest, tate was seven. he reminded you of yourself at a young age, full of life and always showing up with something bleeding, yet smiling and saying "i'm fine dad!"

margaret was five, a little brunette sprite that took after her mother. she had you wrapped around her little tan finger, and you didn't mind a bit.

toby was a average three year old, eugene was six months and-

ryder.

the baby that changed your life.

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xoxo, Georgette