The Concept |r. blaney|

four: complete truths

Soaking up to her neck in hot water and far too many bubbles, Cadence was indulging in a steaming mug of hot chocolate, warm chocolate wafer cookies, with a fresh smelling pair of candles flickering from the countertop adjacent to her serene setting. The book in her hand had pen underlining several passages or quotes the previous reader found intriguing, the pages yellowing and giving off a comforting aroma.

It was late, she wasn't sure what time, but she'd gotten off the couch, turned the TV off, and boredly wandered around her luxury sized kitchen and living room. That is, until she got a text that she knew was from Ryan. Julia had left after cooking dinner and desert, leaving the girl to Netflix and her thoughts once again.

Around two days had passed since she and Ryan parted ways once again. He'd left for work, texting her sporadically throughout the day. 

If she hadn't already met him in person, she would have thought he were a catfish. She asked for his Instagram, twitter- any form of social media, and he refused to tell her. SO, she asked in a later conversation what his surname was and he simply sent laughing faces and a shrug emoji.

She pulled out her phone, gazing down at the message Ryan had sent her. It was a photo of a pastel blue and gold record player with a stack of records beside it. On top of them all was Creedence and Clearwater, the one he'd bought with the promise of listening. She smiled softly, guilt washing over her as she looked down to the paper bag holding the book as well as a racecar diecast Ryan had bought her. 

He said that she had to put it on display.

She grumbled in annoyance-- although she wasn't really annoyed.

All weekend, he'd obviously been busy. His texts only ever came at night or early in the day... SO who's not to say she hadn't been busy as well?

Besides her friend, who knew she wasn't, of course.

She took the book and car out, placing the red, white, and gold diecast up on her glass shelf between a plant and a collection of books from school. She then had wandered into the bathroom with the novel.

That leads her to the present, a third of the way through the book and eagerly turning the pages even as the water grew cold. It wasn't the typical horror story or romance novel that she usually indulged in. It was, however, a thriller. She learned a lot. Things like the thrill being a race car driver, growing up in poverty, and becoming something of yourself. However, she knew all about that from personal experience.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles across the United States, Ryan was sitting with his ankles crossed atop his coffee table. His dog, Sturgill, was asleep beside him, his hand strewn over the dogs back and scratching between his ears as he slept. A beer was in hand, his shirt discarded with the rest on the floor of his bedroom that hadn't properly been cleaned since the start of the season.

He sighed contently in between the song changes, eyes moving down to his puppy. "What do you think?" He asked softly, the dog lifting his head and placing it in Ryan's lap. With sleepy eyes, he looked up to Ryan before shutting them once more with a content sigh. "Think this is ridiculous?" He hummed, sipping his beer before setting it on the side table beside him. "'Course it is. I look pretty ridiculous, huh, bud?" He chuckled, more so to himself than his companion. He lolled his head back on the couch, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he thought about her.

That girl, looking bored and sad sitting with friends in a bar. That girl, who'd grown more alive than ever when swept away from herself and spun in his arms. He pursed his lips, looking back to the record player. His mind brought him into an endless cycle of questions that he couldn't ever ask all at once without scaring her-- or any person for that matter-- away.

He didn't know much about her, but he was certainly more than excited to learn.

He just hoped she'd be willing to learn as well.

His hope skyrocketed with a single text. He was quick to grab ahold of his phone, skimming by all the notifications and texts that always bore him and straight to hers. A photo of the book on what appeared to be on a strikingly white marble countertop. Beside it were a nearly empty candle burning, her red fingernails vibrant against the novel. Beneath the photo, she wrote "it's OVALS all the live long day...... see, ive learned!"

He chuckle, glancing up at the record player before setting his phone down. He gently grabbed either side of Sturgill's sleeping face and smiled as the dog peeked up at Ryan. "Ridiculous or not, I like her. Wanna meet Cadence, buddy? Huh?" He cooed, the dog sitting up, stretching, before hopping off the couch and barking. Ryan laughed at the high-energy dog and pet him as he came back between his legs, tail wagging a million miles an hour. "Wanna meet her, bud? I know you do. I know,"

He cooed playfully before lifting his phone up. He pet Sturgill as he clicked her contact and pressed FaceTime.

Meanwhile, she, wrapped in a towel with a toothbrush between her lips, froze at the sight of his name dancing across the screen with an accept or decline screen. She dropped her toothbrush, hurrying to tug on a t-shirt and underwear. She grabbed the phone, her hair dripping wet and soaking her black t-shirt. 

She clicked accept at the very last second, waiting impatiently as it loaded in. When she saw his face, she beamed brilliantly. "Before you say I told you so," She raised a finger before sweeping back her wet hair. "I have found an appreciation for racing. I respect them but I don't think I'd ever enjoy watching it." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm not worried about it, Cadence, I was wondering..." He inhaled slowly, eyes moving from the dog she couldn't see, back up to her. She was smiling softly, head tilted to the side with water droplets falling down her neck. "--If you'd like to fly out with me to my work." She furrowed her brows. "Don't answer just yet. I know you can't exactly spontaneously bring this up on someone, but I know you write articles. Or something, and I was thinking, maybe... maybe you could write one up there. It could be fun, you wouldn't necessarily have to get a hotel room but I could get you one. Free, and free tickets and everything."

"Tickets?" She laughed. "What do you do for work?" He licked his bottom lip and glanced away from the phone.

"Blaney."

"Huh?"

"Look me up. Ryan Blaney. Try to decide by Wednesday so I can book your flights." Then he paused, biting down on his bottom lip. "Good night, Cadence."

"Well..." She laughed, squinting for a moment. "Good night, Ryan Blaney."

Then he disappeared from her phone screen. She furrowed her brow, crossing her legs and going to Instagram. She typed in his name, looking for one that seemed legitimate. Except, she only found fan pages besides the top one-- with a blue check mark. She clicked on it, eyes narrowing in on the feed. 

She clicked on the photo's and actually parted her lips in shock. She scrolled, seeing all these photos of Ryan, his family and friends, and race cars. Actual, real life race cars. He was a professional race car driver. She scoffed, shock evident on her face. She clicked follow regardless, closed out of instagram and went onto his twitter. 

She skimmed through a bunch of silly tweets, some being updates on the racing season. Some of his personal life and some him playfully bantering with his friends. 

Coincidentally, however, she came to a stop over one particular tweet. She felt her cheeks grow warm to the touch and actually looked away with a tight-lipped smile. 

Ryan Blaney
so this beautiful girl at the bar taught me how to dance while intoxicated so i went looking for rings the next day. u think i'm joking.