Chasing Butterflies- Ryden

✿ 21 ✿

--Ryan--

time skip to August, 7, 2017

"I'm meeting him!" I yell as she walks into my house.

"Ooh." She smirks at my excitement, "Where are you two meeting?"

"[insert restaurant name]." I answer as I walk to my bedroom with her following behind me.

"Isn't he on Broadway?" She asks, and I nod.

"No, he just got off yesterday. But he's making time for me! He's coming to L.A.!"

"Isn't [insert restaurant name] one of those fancy romantic Italian restaurants?"

"Yeah." I waggle my brows at her, receiving a laugh.

"What are you going to wear?" She asks, and I shrug.

"How about a white t-shirt with a black vest over it and black skinny jeans?" She suggests, "Not too simple, but not too flashy."

"Okay, and what are you going to wear?" I ask, and she looks at me in confusion, "I need you to come with me and see how it goes. Or maybe suggest things for me to say or do."

"Oh, okay!" She grins in delight, "I'll probably wear a dress and get my bassist to come with me. We'll just pretend to be on a date."

"Okay." I say, setting my clothes onto my bed, ready to change, "'Scuse me, could you please leave?"

--

I rush to the door when I hear the knocks. She stands in front of me, her bassist at her side. She's wearing a short- but not too short- red dress that matches her hair with black heels. Her hair is curled, and it isn't as choppy as it usually is. Her dark eyeshadow makes her amber eyes pop, and her lips are crimson.

Her bassist stands at her side, wearing a black leather jacket over his plain white shirt. His pants are like mine, and he's wearing black Converse. I wonder if the shoes he's wearing are actually hers.

I hold back a laugh as she dangles her car keys in her hand, "Ready?"

I nod and follow them to her car. Her bassist and I get into the back seat while she gets into the drivers.

"Didn't want to sit up there with her?" I ask quietly as she starts to drive, constantly switching the radio stations.

"No. I get nervous around her." He blushes.

"Oh, I see." I smile, looking from him to her, "You like her?"

"Yeah."

"So, what's your history? How'd she choose you to be her band's bassist?"

"Well, we met back in 6th grade. She had a crush on me back then, but her friends would say that she loved me. And her crush on me lasted for more than four months, meaning she did love me." He sighs, a small note of sadness in it.

"But I was a jerk then and I rejected her. She wrote me a love note at the end of the year, I read it, and I actually started to like her a little bit. I would catch myself staring at her or thinking about her, and I started to fall in love with her. In 8th grade, I told her, but she didn't believe me. She thought I was playing a trick on her, and ever since, I've been in love with her. And she's not. She's been going out with different people, and at one point, I thought she liked you!" He laughs.

"In 9th grade, she started a band with her two friends, both males. She was the guitarist and lead singer. In 11th grade, the bassist left, and she asked me to replace him, since I knew how to play. I agreed, and I've been in the band since." He says, and she stops.