Chapter One: Losing Myself
THIS IS NOT RYDON! I know that sounds weird coming from me, but it's not. It's my perception of Ryan Ross's life. So, here's the deal. Ryan is 16 and his mother is still alive. That's really all you have to know. So please enjoy, chapter one, 'Losing Myself.'
Naked, in a steam-filled bathroom. My wavy, brown locks hanging over my shoulders. The head spewing out water and throwing it against the walls and tub and curtain of my shower. I stared at myself in the foggy, medicine chest mirror, observing how the settled water droplets contoured my face and collar-bone and hair. It seemed to me, that this was how I was seen to the world. A shadow in the background of a larger life. Weathered by the rain and blurred from the constant cloud that swarmed around me. At the time, my home life was pretty good. My mother and father still deeply in love and living in the busy city of Las Vegas, Nevada. I got straight A's, but I never intended on going to college. Maybe for a year or two, but that's about it. I didn't really have friends and I thought I didn't really need them. Thought they'd slow me down and just make my life stressful. I'm not saying that I didn't talk or anything, I just never made an effort to make friends. I'm not sure whether it's because I was shy or I just didn't have the time.
The shower was cold by the time I stepped behind the curtain, but it didn't matter to me. It was Saturday, so I wasn't in much of a rush. It was also my birthday. My sixteenth birthday. The sixteenth August 30th of my life. I wasn't having a party. And I told my parents, "No gifts," but I knew they went and bought something for me anyway. They were great then. I pushed my soaked hair out of my face, wetting my eyelids, letting water slip down my cheeks like a tiny water park slide. In the shower I often thought about what it would be like to be poor. Or to have to practice Buddhism every day. Just stupid things like that caught my train of thought in the shower. The most relaxing place in the world is the shower. A place where you can just be alone and think.
When I walked downstairs, I was greeted with a barrage of balloons and confetti.
"Surprise! Happy Birthday, Ryan!" I smiled and shook my head. My mother hugged me tightly and kissed my forehead.
"Sixteen years old! My baby's already sixteen!" She said and held me arms-length away, looking me up and down. Her large, brown eyes filling with tears.
"Mom, don't make a big deal of it, okay? I don't want to be bombarded with 'Happy Birthday' when we go out tonight," I replied, handing her a tissue from the end table. "And no singing waiters."
We always went out on my birthday, for as long as I can remember. Every year would be a different restaurant and no two years would be the same. This year, I wanted to go to Olive Garden, even though it was two hours away, but my parents didn't care. They were actually kind of happy because Olive Garden had really good imported wines. Which I know to be true now.
My dad handed me their gift. "Open it!" my mom said.
"I said no gifts…" I complained.
"Just shut your mouth and open it," My dad chimed in. I rolled my eyes and carefully peeled the tape away. It was a notebook and a pen set. I smiled again, and I'm sure I broke my lips.
"W-Wow," I stuttered. "This is beautiful, thank you." My mom hugged me again.
"We knew you would! Now go change so we can leave!"
"B-but… I just-"
"Don't argue with me," I could hear the parental sternness in her tone. So I left with a 'yes ma'am' to change.