Not Everything Goes According to Plan (Brallon/Ryden)

Chapter 29: Goodnight Socialite

Ryan's POV ayyyy shit's getting real
(Spot the brobecks quote!)

I look out through the small crack in the curtains that is blinding me. The rest of the room is dark, practically pitch black and it's been that way for days. I've barley slept and barley eaten. Most hours I've been sitting at the edge of my bed staring at the empty hotel room wall-thinking. Occasionally laughing. No matter what time of day it is I can't function, I'm a nervous wreck who just quit his second band that could've potentially gone somewhere. I don't care anymore. I don't care about anything. Nothing matters, not me, not Jon, not Spencer, not Brendon, not Dallon.

Dallon. Who the fuck does he think he is, rejecting me like that? He doesn't know what he wants, but I only know what he needs. He needs me. Yes me. All because of Brendon. The former love of my life. I guess he doesn't need me either, he's too good for me. He has someone better. I want that someone better. I need that someone better.

I look down at my long, bony fingers as they tap faster and faster as I go deeper into my thoughts. My leg begins to move up and down to the same rhythm.

*knock**knock*

Go the fuck away.

*knock**knock**knock*

I sigh and pull myself up off the edge of the cheap hotel room bed. The blankets are still neatly tucked in from when I got here days ago.

As I get up, I feel groggy and somewhat empty, like there's something I need to make my next move and clear my thought process.
I wrap my hands around the cold silver knob and lightly pull back.

"May I help you." I groan to the unexpected visitor.

"Are you Ryan Ross?" I nodded, pulling back my long strands of hair through the obvious answer.

"I was sent by a..." he looks down and snaps his fingers to think for a second, "Shane! That's his name!" I crack a smile.

He slipped a small bag my way, after looking around for witnesses. He was so young, probably not even 22, and already in the business. Damn.

I took the offer and pulled it into my back jean pocket, nodded and shut the door. No more needed interaction with the outside world.

I guess Shane was worried I was running low.

I walked to the small corner table and lay the contents of the plastic bag on whatever 'clean' flat surface is closest. I divide up the white powder and stretch myself out to finally wake up from this hell hole.

Hopefully this will clear my mind.

I take in the cocaine like my life depended on it. I feel the rush running through my veins and blood stream, hitting up my nerves and overpowering my thoughts. It's like I've been transformed in to a brand new person, a new Ryan. Sure it definitely wasn't my first experience with it but every time was different. More unique and more of a rush.

All that thinking I did over the last isolated hours, days, hell maybe even weeks, were clear. I knew what I had to do to get what I wanted. To get what I truly needed and deserved.

I snap my head back straightening my posture out and fumble through the drawers. I throw on my leather jacket and keys and head to the door.

Before I can leave my solitary state, I remember the most important thing! I skip back to the safe within the cheap hotel room closet and unlock it to find my 'problem solver'. I slip it into my jacket pocket, grazing my thumb over the cold aluminum handle and barrel. Before I leave the room, I pull it out and check if it's loaded. Sure enough, I'm prepared.

I walk out the room casually, blood rapidly running through my veins than they ever did before. I softly sing down the hall.
"If I can't have you...then no one can."