Ryder Meyers is like a porcelain doll. Lifeless, and made of glass that could shatter with a snap of a finger. Sitting on the shelf, collecting dust, and waiting for someone to pick him up, and show him admiration, to brighten up his world of black...
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"If Cinderella's shoe fit perfectly, then why did it fall off?" -Unknown
A P R I L
I leaned my head back on the brick wall. I felt a little embarrassed that I sang in front of the schools' bad boy, but something about the calm demeanor and the smell of the spring air made me comfortable enough to let myself sing.
A silence drifted across the air between us, until one of us broke it, "Why are you so nice to me?" I heard Ryder ask.
I looked at him and raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?" I inquired.
Ryder looked at me, and our orbs crashed as we stared at each other, "You had the chance to leave me alone out here, you could've left me here in my sorrows. But you came back," he reasoned. "I even called you a bitch and you still came back."
I frowned at him before speaking up, "Well, there's nothing wrong with being nice once in a while."
He shook his head, "No, there's nothing wrong with being nice. But being nice to me. Why?"
As my thoughts raced for an answer, I found myself getting lost in his eyes. His gorgeous, golden eyes. I sighed, "Everybody deserves kindness in their life. Especially when the person has been through a traumatic or sad scene in their life." I explained calmly.
"But what if that person hasn't had any trauma happen in their life?" He asked me back.
"Now, when you go that deep, it all depends on their feelings towards them." I took in a breath, "And my opinion, even if the person isn't that good, I could always try to turn them good."
"This isn't some movie where you can expect everyone to turn good." He snapped at me.
"I know, but you can't blame someone for trying," I reasoned. I looked at Ryder and smiled.
He furrowed his brows and frowned, "What?"
"No, this is not a movie Ryder. This is reality," I sighed and looked away from him.
His gaze lingered on me as I changed the song. I smiled when I heard the beautiful voice of Bruno Mars.
"You listen to Bruno Mars?" He asked.
I looked at him, my eyes holding some embarrassment. "Yeah, I love him," I spoke with a dumb smile plastered on my face. I looked back at him and realized he looked at me weirdly. "What? Is there something wrong with Bruno Mars?" I asked in a defensive tone.
