The Musical | Ricky Bowen × Reader

Walk away

"If she could put the hollow ache that haunts her into words, she would tell him 'I miss the father you never were.'"

- John Mark Green

...

"Musicals aren't my thing but that wasn't...bad," Ricky shrugs, eating what's left of the popcorn. We just finished watching high school musical 2, and I'm not sure how, but I managed to put up with Ricky's constant whining.

"Yeah, that's totally what I got from all of your complaints," I say, sarcastically.

"In all honesty, it was okay until Sharpay started singing Humuhumunuka...whatever that song was. Then they lost me. Like, what was the point? That number was just weird and unnecessary," he comments, stretching.

"I mean, yeah, I get that, but the plot is definitely better than the first one. Not to mention, the soundtrack is incredible too," I express.

"What plot? The whole film was just Troy being a jerk and losing Gabriella because of it," he says. I have a feeling he's not actually talking about the film.

"Okay, um, let's just agree to disagree," I say, putting an end to the conversation. Ricky looks embarrassed, clearly regretting the words that just left his lips. There's also something about his expression that leads me to believe he's sad. It makes me want to give him a hug, but I know he probably just needs some space to calm down.

"I'm gonna go get us some more popcorn. I'll be right back," I smile, attempting to brighten his mood, even if it's only slightly.

"Alright, thanks," he smiles back weakly, but it falters within seconds. I wish there was something I could do, but for now, I guess getting more popcorn will suffice.

-

I begin heading downstairs and as I do; I overhear a conversation between my parents.

"She needs to get her priorities straight," my father says, shaking his head. I walk down the rest of the stairs cautiously, making sure they don't hear me.

"Honey, you're being too hard on her. She's keeping her grades up. After all, that was the agreement," my mother says, defending me.

"Between you two! If it was up to me, I would have never let her participate in that ludicrous play—much less the arts! She's never going to make it with a career like that," he shouts, and my heart sinks. As if they can sense my presence, they both look up at me. A worried expression passes over my mother's face. My father remains unaffected.

"Is that really what you think of me?" I ask, tears pooling in my eyes.

-

Ricky's POV

I'm in the middle of texting Big Red when I hear shouts coming from downstairs. I carefully make my way down the staircase to try to avoid being heard.

"Is that really what you think of me?" Y/n asks—who I'm guessing is her dad. She looks like she's on the verge of tears, as does her mom. Her dad just looks frustrated.

"Why are you acting like this is a surprise? You know how I feel about the arts—they're unnecessary," he shrugs, and Y/n loses it.

"How would you know?! You've never been to any of my shows!" she yells, tears pouring down her face.

"Because it's pointless. You're not talented enough to make something out of this—out of yourself, so it'd be a waste of my time," he confesses, and Y/n's face floods with anger. Her mother looks like she's about to step in but decides against it.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'M SO DONE WITH YOU!" she screams.

"Honey, wait!" Her mom pleads, reaching out for her arm. She pulls away, and bolts out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

"Look what you've done! Do you have anything to say for yourself?!" Y/n's mom yells, with a livid expression.

I don't bother listening to his sorry excuse. Instead, I run after her, hoping she hasn't gone too far. When I get outside, she's sitting on her front porch, head in her hands. I take a seat next to her, my mind scrambling for what to say.

"Maybe it'd be good for you to get away from here for a little while. We can go to my house, and you can stay for as long as you want. I'm sure my dad won't mind," I suggest. At first, I don't think she hears me. She sits still, staring into oblivion. I'm not sure what to do. Do I say something? Should I try to comfort her? Or does she want silence? Eventually, I pull her close to me and let her lean on my shoulder. After a while, she pulls away.

"Does your offer still stand? I can't go back in there. It's too...toxic," she whispers, wiping her tears away.

"Of course it does. I just need to go back in and get my skateboard, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, of course," she sniffs.

"Okay, I'll be right back." I quickly open the door and grab my skateboard as well as my helmet.

"Alright, let's go," I say, and we start walking.

"I'm sorry you heard all of that," she apologizes, lifting her eyes up to mine. She looks exhausted.

"Why are you apologizing? If anything, I'm sorry. He's just, well, an asshole. And for the record, he doesn't know what he's talking about. You're beyond talented. He's just too ignorant and self-absorbed to see that," I say, and she gives me the smallest of smiles.

The rest of the walk is filled with silence, and we welcome it with open arms.

♪

**heyy wonderful peeps, i hope you're all doing okay! stay safe, my loves :)

p.s thank you for 250+ reads, and #11 in #hsmtmts ! i couldn't have done this without you guys (and my sis cal)! see you in the next one!

ella <3