Jim's pov
"How long has he been in there?" Dwight asks.
"Dunno, bout ten minutes?" I sigh twirling the sports drink in my hand.
I'm a bit conflicted if I'm honest with myself.
On the one hand I'm a bit annoyed by Ryan's attitude today,
on the other I feel bad for him.
I know how hard he worked on this presentation, like really worked.
Being creative is important to him and I think a bit freeing.
I've always suspected he had anxiety but seeing him today,
how on edge and out of control he seemed just... I don't
know it was harder to ignore. And I mean I tried to help
in my own clumsy way but really I was reeling I don't
like seeing him like that, looking at me with those big eyes,
like he's hanging on my every word expecting me to save him.
And the thing is, I want too, I want him to be okay.
He's young and bright and still trying to find his way
and he has so much potential I'd hate to see it wasted.
My phone vibrates in my hand and I see his name across the screen.
He's not coming.
I feel like throwing my phone against the wall.
Absently I note the direct apology he gives and that it's me he's decided to text and not Dwight.
"What?" Dwight asks pacing.
"Ryan bailed."
"What!?"
"You heard me."
"Okay, okay." He says shakily, still pacing and running a frantic
hand through his hair.
"You have to do it Jim."
"No way."
"Come on Jim!"
We go several rounds and somehow I find myself giving the presentation in the end.
It's a hit. Ryan's idea's, his words, all of it.
I'm proud but contrite that it's me getting the applause and not him.
I duck out just as soon as I'm able and head to his place.
I knock on his door for several minutes.
"Might as well open up Ryan, I'm not going anywhere!"
I hear the latch scraping across the door a second later.
He slowly pulls the door open and stands there silent and eyes downcast.
"Hey." I offer shifting my weight from foot to foot glancing around the hall.
"Mind if I come in?"
He shrugs but steps aside.
"So,-" I start but he cuts me off.
"Jim, I'm sorry!" He bursts out, hands shaking.
"I know you are." I say softly.
"I...I just.."
"I know man."
"NO! NO YOU DON"T KNOW!" He screams, eyes glassy and breath hitching.
"Hey, come on..." I feel completely out of my depth here but I don't want to let him down again.
He turns away from me sharply, his breath laboured.
Hesitantly I approach him. Reaching out I squeeze his shoulders.
"Just breathe." I murmur.
"I'm trying!" He chokes.
I turn him to me and it's that one tear hanging off his dark lashes that is my undoing.
"Oh, sweetie." I say and this time it comes out sincerely.
I pull him to me. "It's okay."
My heart clenches at his muffled cries in my chest.
I think about the little boy he used to be, how he was so twisted up in anxiety he couldn't even enjoy a day at Disneyworld, about how timid he was when he first showed up at the office, nervous, eyes always darting around unsure, I think about how he tried to use drugs to "fix" himself.
And it's not fair I think, it's not fair that someone so smart should have to struggle so hard to prove himself.
We stand there for a long time in silence before he slowly backs away, wiping his face.
"Sorry." He mutters, voice husky.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of." I say brushing his cheek.
He won't meet my eyes.
"I mean it Ryan. It's okay to need help or to step back and take a breather when you need to."
He continues the staring contest with his shoes.
"Look, I know we've never been exceptionally close but you can talk to me, okay?"
He nods, finally glancing up at me.
I give his shoulder another squeeze.
I stay awhile longer, sharing a drink on his couch, making sure he's actually alright now before heading out.
"Hey, Jim?" He calls as I'm reaching for the door.
"Yeah?" I say turning, eyebrows raised.
"Um...thanks." He stutters out.
"Anytime