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nefarious247 · 6 years

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“Young Turks” - Chapter One

The prase “young turk” is simple slang to denote someone who is a little rebellious, pushing at boundaries, someone who’s out … seeking new things.

(You can read this story here under the “Read More” or on AO3 here.)

Jack hiked his backpack up onto his shoulders and readjusted the heavy box he was carrying. He did not feel prepared at all for move-in day. Truth be told, he was happy to be out of his mother’s house. She was drunk all the time, and Jack felt like he’d spent the entirety of his life being an adult in her place. He felt a little guilty at the thought of leaving her, but he was also glad he didn’t have any siblings to leave behind at the mercy of her. This was his life now - all the way across the country, no more dealing with mom and all her problems. He was going to live a life that someone his age should live, finally. Whatever happened to his mother, well, that just wasn’t his responsibility anymore.

He’d scoped out his dorms days ago to make sure he knew where he was going and what the best path to take there would be. As he lugged his few belongings up a set of narrow, dimly-lit stairs, he wondered what life would be like now. He’d have a roommate, of course, but he didn’t know what he’d be like. Jack shrugged the thought off and walked up the hallway on the fourth floor of the dormitory. He finally reached 492 and sighed in relief. He awkwardly turned the handle on the door and entered the room, only a little surprised to see that his roommate was already there.

Jack dropped his things on his bed and turned to say hello. His roommate hadn’t looked up from unpacking, so instead, Jack stayed quiet and simply looked around the room. His roommate, still a major unknown, was tall, fit, and handsome. He had wavy blond hair that fell just past his chin, and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing a plain tan shirt, loose jeans, and a battered red hat backwards. He was unpacking stack after stack of magazines and books and gently placing them on the bookshelf under his lofted bed. Jack saw that he’d already hung a few posters from what looked to be shooter films.

“Hey,” Jack introduced himself finally, “I’m Jack. I guess we’re roommates?” The other man looked up from his boxes and blushed, looking rather embarrassed for not saying hello earlier.

“Hah, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m Ryan. Nice to meet you.” He quickly thrust his hand out for Jack to shake, and they shared an uncomfortable moment.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jack mumbled and pushed his glasses up on his nose. He started to unpack his box, and he decided to try to strike up a conversation with Ryan.

“So uh, there’s a ‘welcome day’ party or something going on at the student union tonight, are you going?” he asked as he put sheets on his bed.

“Oh,” Ryan responded, disinterested, “uh, probably not? Why, are you going?”

“Eh, probably not,” Jack laughed.

“Not the partying type, eh?” Ryan chuckled back. Jack grinned.

“I guess you could say that. I’d honestly rather shower and go to bed,” Jack replied with a sigh.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Ryan agreed. He started to collapse his now-empty boxes as he continued to speak, “Didn’t bring much, huh?”

“Didn’t have much to bring,” Jack replied, his tone dropping slightly. He’d suddenly become self-conscious of his small collection of possessions: one set of twin sheets, about a week’s worth of clothes, a lamp, a few books, and his scant school supplies. He hadn’t had a chance to go out and buy a towel, or shampoo, and he realized his desire to shower would have to be put on hold.

“I uh, actually gotta go shopping tonight, so I definitely won’t be at the party,” Jack said, trying to cover his embarrassment.

“Hey,” Ryan said quickly, “I actually have to get some things too. Wanna come with me?”

Jack turned to look at Ryan with a grin, “You got a car?” Ryan nodded.

“Good, ‘cause I took the bus here,” he laughed, “yeah, sure, I’ll come with you.”

They pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot after a quick stop at the nearest McDonald’s and headed into the store. They both made a beeline for the towels - apparently Ryan had forgotten to pack his. Jack felt less embarrassed about his own lack of toiletries. Over the next hour, Ryan stocked up on all kinds of cheap foods, extra clothes, razors, and a few new books. Jack grabbed an inexpensive family-size bottle of shampoo, the cheapest towel he could find, and a few more t-shirts to add to his wardrobe. Ryan eyed Jack’s much smaller cart load and hummed to himself.

When they went to pay, Ryan whipped out cash before Jack could even get his wallet. Jack was horrified, and he begged Ryan not to pay for his things, but Ryan refused. The cashier was confused and a little afraid of how sternly Ryan had reprimanded Jack, but they were soon done and back in Ryan’s car. All the embarrassment had returned to Jack, and his entire face glowed red.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked, mostly confused but also a little angry.

“Look, my parents are paying every penny of my tuition. They paid for this car, the gas that’s in it, and they give me four hundred dollars a month for groceries. From now on, if you need anything, just tell me,” Ryan said sternly.

“I can’t ask you to buy everything for me, I’ve got money, and I barely know you! Plus it’s your parents’ money, wouldn’t they be mad if they found out you’re spending it on someone else?”Jack argued frantically.

“We’re gonna be roommates for at least a year, better get to know each other!” Ryan practically growled, “and no, my parents barely noticed that I left for college, they don’t care what I spend my beans on.” Ryan paused.

“Besides, that’s way too much money for me to spend on myself every month. I couldn’t go through that much if I tried! You’ve gotta help me with this burden, please,” he laughed, his entire aura softening. A weak smile tugged at Jack’s lips, and he scoffed and shoved Ryan.

“Agreed, then,” Ryan declared, “I’ll be Mr. Moneybags and you be my friend, tight?”

“You can’t buy friends, dude,” Jack laughed.

“Shut up!” Ryan exclaimed.

Jack opened the door to his and Ryan’s room and flopped down on his bed. He rubbed his hands over his face and through his thick red beard. He pulled his glasses off and abandoned them beside himself on the bed. He groaned and closed his eyes as he pressed his hands hard on them.

Ryan rolled over in his bed and stared at Jack for a little bit before asking, “Rough morning?” Jack only grunted.

“You don’t know how lucky you are that you don’t have eight-A-M’s,” Jack sighed.

“Oh, believe me, the way you act when you come back from yours is enough,” Ryan said solemnly.

“This class is gonna kill me,” Jack moaned as he rolled over to lie on his belly. He clutched his pillow tight to his face.

“I believe in you,” Ryan teased. Jack’s hand appeared from under his pillow, and he flipped Ryan off. Ryan only laughed and rolled back over in his bed.

They’d only been in school for a month, but a lot had happened in that time. Jack and Ryan had developed a mutual affinity for Ryan’s favorite shooter films - Licence to Kill, To Live and Die in LA, and Reservoir Dogs - as well as Jack’s favorite bands - The Smiths, Simon & Garfunkel, and The Replacements. Jack was helping Ryan with his civics class, and Ryan helped Jack with his computer science class. They mutually-struggled with their calculus and geology classes, and Jack helped Ryan memorize lines for his play while Ryan helped Jack with his numbers for his budgeting class. They typically avoided on-campus events, unless they were business- or theatre-related, which played to Jack’s and Ryan’s majors respectively.

Additionally, they’d optimised their time together to get shopping, homework, and extracurricular requirements done in time to watch movies on Ryan’s new VHS player they’d bought in their second week. When Jack saw it on sale at the store, he’d planted the seed of want in Ryan’s mind by pretending to offhandedly mention how cool it’d be to be able to watch Ryan’s favorite movies in their dorm. Ryan dedicated one-hundred and twenty of his dollars to the VHS, a small boxy TV, and five of his favorite titles. They’d wasted no time setting up the TV and VHS player in their dorm, and spent the weekend watching all of Ryan’s picks. They bought a few new tapes every week and had their own movie nights on the weekends. As Ryan had predicted, his parents didn’t bat an eye at how easily he went through his allowance every month.

Ryan rolled back over, having suddenly remembered something he urgently needed to tell Jack, “Hey, good news!” Jack looked up from his pillow expectantly.

“Kris, that cute brunette in my theatre class, y’know, the one who’s super into lighting? Yeah, she’s seen you hanging around in the theatre during rehearsal, and she told me that she thinks you’re ‘quite the looker’.”

Jack frowned slightly, “Eh, I’m not really interested. Sweet of her to say so, though. I thought this beard might be unsightly.”

Ryan frowned hard, upset that his foolproof plan to cheer Jack up had failed miserably. He huffed and turned back to face the wall. “You’re impossible.”

“What?” Jack scoffed, “because I don’t particularly care about that one girl in your theatre class?”

“No,” Ryan retorted, “because you’re so damn hard to cheer up.”

“I’m fine,” Jack laughed unconvincingly. Ryan knew he was lying, but he left it for now. He was exhausted, and Jack would be more willing to talk when he was done with his classes. For now, they could just relax and sleep. Nine twenty-five was too early to talk about real stress and difficult classes.

When Ryan’s alarm went off two hours later, Jack was already gone. Ryan got up and got dressed; he ran a comb through his hair and studied his face briefly in the mirror. He grabbed his backpack and strolled out of the dorm. He sauntered out into the brisk October air and hurried to class. He slept through his first class, lazily took notes that slowly deteriorated into doodles during his second, and he ended up skipping his third after having decided that he was too tired to attend. He stopped by the mailboxes on his way back to his dorm and picked up his mail. He stuffed a couple of envelopes and a subscription magazine into his bag and retrieved a second key from his lanyard. He walked up a few feet and unlocked the box labeled “Pattillo, Jack”. He’d stolen Jack’s key a few weeks earlier when Jack said he would never get mail. Ryan checked the box every time he checked his own, but thus far it had been empty. Today wasn’t any different.

Ryan was surprised that Jack never got any mail at all - not even letters from the college. He thought for sure Jack would get a letter prompting him to join on-campus clubs, just as he had, but his mailbox was empty even then. Ryan briefly wondered if someone was stealing Jack’s mail, but he remembered that he had the key and would have noticed if someone had taken it. He shrugged it off and made his way back to the dorm.

Jack was back, working on homework with his books and notebooks scattered all over his bed. Ryan climbed onto his bed and opened his letters. He chuckled a little at the first one, but frowned when he read the second. He took the four hundred dollar check out of the envelope and briefly skimmed the scrap of paper inside before crumpling it up and tossing it into the garbage. He pulled out his wallet and placed the check safely inside. He returned his attention to the first letter to read it again.

“You got two letters today?” Jack asked, having been distracted from his work by the sound of Ryan’s crumpling.

“Oh, yeah,” Ryan responded, still half-reading the letter, “from my brothers.”

“That’s them on the wall, right?” Jack pointed at a polaroid picture that showed two young boys with their arms wrapped around each others’ shoulders. Ryan looked up and grunted.

“It’s an old picture, but yeah,” he commented lazily, “apparently they joined AV Club and Astronomy Club this year.”

“How old are they?” Jack asked.

“Hmm… They’re fifteen,” Ryan said after a moment of thinking.

“That’s a lot for fourteen-year-olds to do on top of school,” Jack observed.

“Yeah, they do sports too. Cross Country in the fall and Track in the spring,” Ryan elaborated, “they’ve always been the busy type, y’know?”

“What about you?”

“Pshh,” Ryan scoffed, “I didn’t do anything in high school except get into trouble.”

“For real?” Jack was intrigued. Ryan didn’t really seem like the troublesome sort, at least not as far as Jack knew.

“Yeah, I was in detention almost every day,” Ryan chuckled, but his tone was sour, “I got in a lot of fights at school, and after school I’d go out and pick more.”

“Real ball buster, huh?”

“Hah, yeah,” Ryan muttered, “I guess you could say that.”

They stayed quiet for a moment. Jack suddenly felt awkward, realizing that something was bothering Ryan. Before he could say anything, Ryan piped up again.

“What about you? What’d you do in high school?”

“Oh, uh,” Jack thought for a minute, “Well, I was in Key Club and I was the Vice President of Student Council. Kept me busy enough.”

“You were a good kid, then?” Ryan asked as he shot Jack a sly grin.

“Eh, I guess,” Jack muttered, “I wanted to do well enough in school to be able to go to a far-away college, so I guess, yeah, I tended to be pretty good back then.”

“Back then? You telling me you’ve got some secret mischief now?” Ryan asked.

“I mean if you count watching movies all weekend instead of doing classwork, then yeah,” Jack laughed. He fell back onto his pillow, upsetting one of his textbooks.

“Why’d you want to go to college far away from home?” Ryan questioned.

“That’s,” Jack paused, “well, that’s kind of a lot. I guess the short answer is I didn’t have a great home life.”

“Sorry,” Ryan said awkwardly, “I, uh, I get that.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Jack replied sincerely.

“You leave any siblings back there?”

“Nope,” Jack said, “mom knew better than to have more than one kid, and I can be grateful for that I guess. You ever worry about yours?”

“Eh, a little,” Ryan admitted, “but I think they’ll do better than I did. They don’t go looking for trouble.”

They fell silent again. Jack shuffled uncomfortably in his bed, and Ryan sighed quietly. They rarely talked about their home lives, and now they understood why. Life before college was messy and complicated, even if they were barely saying anything.

Ryan got off of his bed and turned the TV on. “You up for The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” he asked. Jack nodded. Ryan took the tape out of the case and put it in the little slot in the front of the TV. He pressed buttons on the front as he was prompted to and the movie started.

Jack had only caught glimpses of the movie on TV at home, but he’d never sat down and watched the whole thing. As far as he was aware, it was a racy movie, but Ryan claimed it was better than Reservoir Dogs. Jack declared he’d be the judge of that - he couldn’t see how a movie made almost twenty years before Reservoir Dogs could even hold a candle to it. Ryan swore he’d love it.

Jack didn’t take his eyes off the screen once. Ryan was secretly very pleased with himself for choosing such a hit. There was a point about halfway into the film when Jack looked like he very much wanted to ask a question, but he stayed quiet and focused on the movie. Ryan noted this observation and made a point to return to it when the film was over. For the time being, however, he let Jack watch in peace.

Nearly two hours later, when the film was over, Ryan broke the noise of the credit music to inquire what Jack thought of the movie.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Jack said, a mystified glaze over his eyes as he watched the credits roll by, “that was incredible!”

“Told you so,” Ryan grinned. Before he could ask Jack anything else, Jack posed a question of his own.

“So was the main character…”

“Gay?” Ryan interjected.

“No,” Jack shook his head, “I guess I don’t know what I’m asking. What… God, that sounds horrible… Okay, whatever, what is he? Or she? I don’t really know.”

“Jack, are you telling me you don’t know what a transvestite is?” Ryan laughed.

“Yeah,” Jack grumbled, “I guess so.”

Ryan laughed at Jack’s expense before he explained, “This is probably not the best explanation in the world, but a transvestite is basically someone who dresses like the opposite gender and, like, lives their life that way.”

“Oh, okay,” Jack said, still not totally understanding.

“Is there anything else you don’t know about?” Ryan teased.

“Shut up,” Jack laughed, “Transvestites weren’t exactly a big thing in my hometown!”

“I’m not really sure they’re a big thing in anyone’s town,” Ryan wheezed between laughs.

“You’re an asshole!” Jack threw a friendly punch Ryan’s way, and a lot of things happened all at once.

Ryan’s right palm met Jack’s fist and twisted his arm sharply. Jack cried out in surprise and Ryan dropped his arm in an instant. Ryan leapt to his feet, his face glowing red. Jack shot him a quizzical look.

“Sorry,” Ryan mumbled, terribly embarrassed, “I just thought…”

“It’s fine, dude,” Jack said, shaking out his arm as if to prove that it still worked. Ryan smiled weakly and went to eject the tape from the TV.

As Ryan was putting the tape away, Jack braved another question, “So like, are Transvestites women who used to be men?”

“No,” Ryan said as he returned the movie to the shelf with the others, “that’s a Transgender person. I’m not really that well-versed on the subject, but I guess the big difference is how they present themselves to other people? Like, okay, do you know what a Drag Queen is?” Jack shook his head no, “Um, okay, well they’re men that dress like women and perform. Not really like strippers, but, you get it? I would say that Drag Queens are Transvestites. And, um, Transgender people are like, actually that gender. Like… oh! Candy Darling!”

Jack stared blankly at Ryan in utter confusion. Ryan sighed.

“Andy Warhol? The artist? Candy Darling was one of his main models,” Ryan explained, “actually, come to think of it, a lot of Transgender women modelled for him.”

“I know who Andy Warhol is, but that doesn’t really explain anything,” Jack admitted. Ryan just shrugged and returned to his bed.

“It’s not that important,” Ryan sighed, facedown in his pillow, “I’m going to sleep, I’m exhausted.”

“G’night, Ryan,” Jack yawned as he pushed his books off his bed and burrowed into his blankets.

Halloween came quickly. Jack and Ryan spent most of October running around like chickens with their heads cut off, working on projects and papers, and studying for exams. Ryan’s play was the first weekend of November, Jack had a mock federal budget due, and they both had lab journals to turn in. They spent more time than ever holed up on the fifth floor of the library, where they could spread out over the entire floor. They created a studying bolthole, and they were there working away every spare moment.

When everything was finally finished - save for Ryan’s play - and classes were finished, Ryan and Jack addressed the issue of Halloween. There were likely hundreds of parties going on, and they’d been invited to a few by their friends and Ryan’s castmates. They simply weren’t sure what to do. They could always spend the night in watching the small collection of Spielberg films they’d accrued, or they could go nab some half-priced candy at Wal-Mart. Of course, they also felt obliged to go to their friends’ parties. In the end, they decided to dress up and go out.

Ryan drove to a pop-up Halloween store that had been set up in an abandoned department store. Surprisingly, even on Halloween in a college town, they still had loads of costumes. Ryan had a bit of an issue finding a costume tall enough for him, but they eventually found good ones and headed for the checkout line.

Ryan found a grim reaper costume, complete with a tattered black robe, a horrifying skull mask, and an enormous scythe. He was ecstatic to look so terrifying, and Jack was already on edge imagining someone of Ryan’s stature cloaked in that monstrosity. Jack had found a Rocky Horror Picture Show costume, a Frank N. Furter one to be exact, and it came with a matching wig.

“Do you think I should shave my beard?” Jack asked.

Ryan considered it for a moment before responding, “Absolutely.”

An hour later, Jack was clean-shaven and they were dressed to the nines. Not an inch of Ryan’s skin was visible, and he looked like a real wraith had stepped out of the astral plane to haunt the streets. Jack had a sharp but curved jawline hidden under his beard, and in the full costume, he looked a lot like Tim Curry in his glory days. Ryan painted his face and used some of the stage makeup to finish off the look, and together they looked incredible.

They made their way to Ryan’s friend Kris’s party, which was off-campus at her house. Ryan drove to the party, and they were able to park in her driveway. She’d offered a spot in the garage even, to keep Ryan’s car safe from drunk people, but he figured it would be fine so long as it was off the road. Kris was dressed as Marilyn Monroe, and she definitely looked the part.

“Jack? Is that you?” she asked, ogling over Jack’s costume, “you look incredible!”

“Thanks!” Jack smiled, not at all playing the part.

Ryan and Jack followed Kris through a small crowd of people, mostly other Theatre majors, to the back yard, where there was music, drinks, and all kinds of games. Ryan saw a bunch of his castmates and tech students he knew, and Jack recognized a couple of the student directors. They struck up conversation and danced under the strings of orange and purple lights Kris had hung from tree to tree.

When someone came around handing out drinks, Jack took one to taste, but Ryan refused. Jack shot him a funny look and he just shrugged. Jack rolled his eyes and tasted the beer. It wasn’t great, but it would do. He wouldn’t have more than just the one, but he would enjoy the one he allowed himself to have. Soon, he and Ryan were just dancing in a tightly-packed group of people.

The sun slowly set, and the party got less and less sober. The crowd got closer, and everyone was sweating, even in the chilly evening air. At some point, Ryan and Jack got separated. Jack didn’t mind terribly, he just slowly made his way out of the center of the yard to the back where people were bobbing for apples - or, rather, trying to, but they were too drunk to actually get any.

One of the people attempting to bob for apples - a man in a Fresh Prince-era Will Smith outfit - stumbled over to Jack and swung a red solo cup sloshing with beer his way.

“Didn’t know dressin’ up as a faggot was an option!” he laughed.

Jack rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the guy. He was, however, keeping a weather eye out for Ryan, almost desperately waiting for him to return from wherever he’d gotten off to. The man wasn’t letting up though.

“Seriously - hic - you look like - hic - a dimestore tranny!” the man said between drunken hiccups.

“This is a real costume,” Jack said smoothly, “I’m dressed up like a character from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

“Yeah, the fag movie!” the guy laughed, spilling some of his beer on Jack.

“It’s - you know what, I don’t care,” Jack scoffed as he shoved the man away and turned to leave the yard. The guy grabbed Jack by the shoulder and stopped him. He sloppily sloshed more beer onto Jack, and he looked angry now.

“Where you goin’, fag?” he spat.

“Get off of me!” Jack exclaimed and shoved him away again.

“Fag on the loose!” the guy cried as Jack hurried away along the fence.

Jack could feel his face getting hot. He was glad he had the face paint on to hide how red he probably was underneath it. He climbed the stairs to the back porch and ran into one of Ryan’s friends who was also avoiding the beer. He struck up a conversation with the guy, Stuart, and recounted what had just happened with an air of inconvenience.

“God,” Stuart groaned, “Derrick’s the worst, especially when he’s drunk.”

So his name was Derrick. Jack made a note to avoid him in the future. Jack and Stuart moved away from the unsavory conversation and discussed school of all things, while drunk college kids milled about around them.

Earlier, when Ryan and Jack got separated, Ryan retreated into the house to use the bathroom. When he returned to the kitchen, he found Kris being harassed by friends of someone she’d invited. He stormed into the kitchen looking like Death himself and told the guys off.

“Knock it off,” Ryan said.

“Or what, you’re gonna reap our souls?” the first guy, a redhead wearing a shoddy He-Man costume, retorted, feigning intimidation.

Ryan pulled his hood down and his mask off to reveal the murderous expression on his face and growled, “get out.” At the sight of his face, the guys lost all the desire to argue and practically bolted out of the kitchen.

Ryan put his mask back on and turned to Kris, “Some people, I swear.”

“Thanks, Ryan,” she said awkwardly, “I know, it’s like, I threw this party, the least you could do is respect me!”

Ryan and Kris left the kitchen and started up a conversation in Kris’s living room, where a group of people were watching The Shining and drinking more than they should. Kris grabbed another beer and offered Ryan some, but he declined again. She shrugged and continued the conversation. More people were crowding into the room, some there to actually watch the movie and some there only because they wanted to sit. Eventually, Kris and Ryan ended up crammed into one recliner. The Shining had ended by that time, and someone had gotten up and changed the movie to Friday the 13th. Kris scowled and turned away from the TV. She was now entirely in Ryan’s lap, mostly facing him. He had to awkwardly wrap his left arm around her to keep her from falling out of the chair.

“Sorry,” she groaned, “I just hate this movie so much!”

“Why do you own it?” Ryan chuckled.

“I don’t! It’s one of my roommates’,” she said. She leaned against Ryan’s chest and tried to block out the sounds of the TV.

Ryan’s arm tightened around Kris instinctively, and she snuggled into his embrace. Her hand had settled gently on his shoulder. Ryan kept talking through all this, although he was now hyper-focused on her every move. He was telling her about how he’d seen this movie a lot as a kid and it didn’t really freak him out anymore. Her ear was right over his heart, and she let the steady beat of his heart and the hum of his voice distract her from the screams emanating from the other side of the room.

“We don’t have to sit in here if you don’t want to watch this movie,” he said suddenly, having broken from his monologue.

The next thing he knew, he and Kris were locked in her room, and he was trailing kisses down her jaw. His cape and mask were abandoned on the floor, along with Kris’s blonde wig. Kris pushed him onto her bed and fell with him, and he rolled over so that she was underneath him. He sat up and pulled off his gray undershirt before laying back down to resume kissing her.

They moved together, the sound of the movie and the music permeating the room and creating an energetic ambiance. The entire room was dark, except for the spray of light that came in through the window from the backyard. Their bodies were hot; Ryan, despite his size and strength, was gentle with Kris. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, emotionally or physically.

When Ryan rolled off of Kris, breathing heavily and dripping in sweat, he held her close and placed a soft kiss on her hair. She leaned into his embrace and hummed softly. His arms wrapped tighter around her, and he intertwined his legs with hers.

“So, uh,” Ryan whispered, “you still have that crush on Jack, or…”

“I was kinda thinking you and I have more in common, so…” Kris laughed softly, “besides, between me and you, you’re cuter.”

Ryan kissed her again and nuzzled her with his chin, his short beard tugging at her hair. She closed her eyes and sighed happily.

“Shit,” Ryan groaned, “I forgot about Jack.”

“We should go find him, probably,” Kris agreed, realizing what Ryan meant.

Ryan crawled out of Kris’s bed and pulled his jeans on. She slipped back into her dress and picked her wig up off the floor. Once they looked presentable, they sneaked down the stairs past a couple drunk kids and left the house. Ryan scanned the crowd in the yard, trying to pick out Jack. Kris nudged him and pointed to her right, where Jack and Stuart were sat having a heated discussion about the differences between Macbeth and Banquo. Ryan rolled his eyes and smiled.

“I guess he’s fine,” he groaned. Kris laughed.

#Young Turks #YT #neffywrites #Achievement Hunter gta v au #achievement hunter fanfiction

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