Disclaimer: I don't own the O.C. or its characters.
A/N: One shot. Ryan reflects. The title is from the song, "Lose Yourself" by Eminem.
Lose yourself in the musicThe moment you own it you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
Eminem, "Lose Yourself"
Ryan tries to keep a conversation going with Theresa as they drive down the Coastal Highway.
Are you sure you're okay?No, Theresa, Ryan isn't okay. He's throwing his life away. Everything he's worked for in the past year, it doesn't mean jack. Ryan is right back where he started from.
A year ago, he couldn't imagine living in a world full of glamour and deception.
A year later, he can't imagine leaving.
Was he making the biggest mistake of his life? Ryan Atwood didn't know, but he was pretty sure the answer was yes.
The Cohens gave him a place to call home. He remembers driving up to the sprawling mansion in his lawyer's Beemer, rusty bicycle crammed in the trunk. Their community was gated and professionally landscaped. And the house…wow. Their sheets of Egyptian cotton probably cost more than all the furniture in his old house.
He remembers his lawyer, Sandy, and his wife, Kirsten, fighting over him.
He can't stay here, Sandy. This isn't a puppy you bring home from the pound and it's cute and Seth walks it occasionally. This is a boy—a seventeen-year-old delinquent from Chino. Do you know how that will reflect on our family?
The way she'd said Chino really got to Ryan. Like it was some rat-infested place not fit for a princess such as herself. It wasn't all that bad, at least some parts of it.
Ryan remembers sitting in the poolhouse later that night, watching the sunset. He'd been planning to grab his bike and go, as soon as night fell. Where, he didn't know. But anywhere was better than here; he didn't belong and most certainly wasn't wanted.
He remembers Seth rapping lightly on the glass doors to the poolhouse, although they weren't locked. Then he remembers. He stayed because, suddenly, Newport was kind of okay.
Ready to get your ass kicked in Playstation? We don't have to play Grand Theft Auto. I mean, if you want to we can. I know you're good at it…I mean, not like that. Okay, you know what? I'm going to stop, now. Do you wanna play?
Ryan laughs, and Theresa gives him a strange look. He shrugs it off. She doesn't need to know what's going through his head. The thoughts are private; emotions he's never shared with anyone and doesn't plan to start sharing now.
Seth was always a rambler, from the moment Ryan met him. And he always knew the wrong thing to say. The way he filled the awkward silences with awkward lingo was just…comforting, in a way. Ryan can't explain it. He's going to miss Seth, more than anyone. Well…almost everyone.
Enter Marissa. Theresa takes Ryan's hand and squeezes it. Ryan tries his best to enjoy the warmth radiating from Theresa's tan skin, but he can't. All he can focus on is how he never gave a proper goodbye to the first girl he might be in love with. Marissa.
I understand why you have to do this. I love you.
He didn't say it back. That very first time she told him, Marissa received a thank you in return. And the very first time he told her, Ryan received a thank you in return. Had they ever both said it, agreed on it, even? Ryan can't remember. But he knows that he's made a huge mistake. Because he loves Marissa Cooper.
And when he's singing the baby to sleep, or changing its diaper, he'll be thinking of Marissa. When he and Theresa take the baby for a stroll, and passerby stop to admire the baby, he'll be thinking of the future he never had with Marissa.
What is he doing, then?
Ryan's got this syndrome. It's a terrible disease, really. He's got a fixation on the whole White-Knight saves Damsel-In-Distress thing. And Theresa just happens to be the damsel-in-distress of the moment.
Besides, this baby could be his. Ryan knows, that in the off chance it's his, he wants to be there for its birth. What if he stayed in Newport, and found out months later that he, Ryan Atwood, was a father?
He could never forgive himself.
But then again, he can't forgive himself for leaving the house the Cohens made a home, either.
Ryan opens his leather wallet. Inside, there's the Christmukkah photo of him and the Cohens. His family. They are a family, that's right.
Families stick together. But Theresa and the baby growing inside her are also his family, he thinks. Does he want them to be? Ryan's not sure. But it's easier to tell himself that he wants to be the patriarch of the family, because, quite frankly, there's no other way to justify his leaving the Cohens. His other family.
There's the picture of him and Seth, with matching surfboards and goofy grins.
Marissa's Cotillion picture, the one she gave him when they first started dating. It's become a bit wrinkled at the edges. Ryan thinks he'll get it laminated. After all, it's the kind of picture he expects to keep forever.
And his favorite picture; the one of him and Marissa. They're dancing, looking deeply into each other's eyes. It was taken by the budding photographer, Summer. Okay, so she wants to be a fashion designer, but that's beside the point. It's a great picture; it really captures the duo's feeling for one another.
A feeling that is piercing Ryan's heart and burning his insides. What if he just walked out on his future?
Ryan's eyes rest on the single greatest object he owns. Seriously. Yes, the card that reads:
Sandy Cohen
Attorney at Law
888-1029
The corner is missing, and the C in Cohen is partially faded.
Ryan remembers Sandy handing him the card.
Just in case you ever need anything.
Ryan never thought he'd actually use the card. And look how it came in handy. That's the card he owes it all to. Without it, he'd be living on the streets, or worse, in juvy.
Theresa turns on the radio, and Ryan turns up the volume. He needs to lose himself in the music…there's nowhere else to turn to. The exit for Chino comes up and Theresa puts on her turn signal.
Ryan's right back where he started from. And he thinks it was a mistake to ever look back.