Hi everybody!
So let me make a formal introduction of myself. I'm TheLostHalcyon. I'm a college student and I love to write, much like everyone else here in FF. Anyway, this is pretty much my first ever fic for Glee. I'm honestly very nervous about how this'll turn out, especially since I'm writing about an underrated pairing like Anderlynn (Blaine and Ryder); Blyder, if you will.
Anyway, the setting of this fic is rather a mix of an AU and canon. In this fic, Kurt and Blaine never got back together after the season 4 Thanksgiving episode but they're still friends (sorry, Klaine shippers), Glee club is still disbanded (sorry, everyone) and Rachel still got her shot in LA. Probably a few more story twists here and there, but yeah. You guys will be able to distinguish them yourselves. Haha.
Okay, here we go. Chapter One of my very first Glee fic. Enjoy, you guys! :D
The Outside
Ryder POV
The sun was shining brighter than usual here in New York City, specifically here in Manhattan as I walked out into the streets without any sunglasses on. Boy, that was a huge mistake. I could feel my corneas disintegrating by the second the longer my eyes weren't protected, so I immediately dug through my brown-and –orange messenger bag to find my sunglasses. After digging through all the documents, my first semester timetable, my laptop and my drawing tablet, I finally found them: my half-frame, clubmaster black sunglasses. After putting on the eyewear, I decided to walk over to my comfort place: the Coffee Bean at Bleecker Street.
Oh yeah. Why am I, Ryder Lynn, the socially-awkward football jock who was one of the last members of the disbanded McKinley High Glee Club from Lima, Ohio, doing in New York? Why am I not in one of those colleges that offer those football scholarships? Why do I have a drawing tablet, even?
I didn't know what I would find
When I went looking for a reason, I know
I didn't read between the lines
And, baby, I've got nowhere to go
Well, after Glee Club was disbanded, I was pretty bored with my life after. Sure, I still had friends in Kitty, Marley, Jake and Unique, but even our usual Friday night hangouts got boring because we were together a little too much. So we decided to try doing other things with our lives. Jake decided to go back to the McKinley varsity (still headed by Coach Beiste to this very day) where he scored the winning touchdown and got his scholarship to UCLA. Marley continued songwriting and covering music on YouTube to the point that she had a growing fanbase already. A few more years and she can be even more famous than Sam Tsui or Cimorelli and work alongside Mercedes Jones and Santana Lopez. Unique started her own blog on fashion, transgender rights, and music. Her fanbase for her blog was also growing at an exponential rate. Kitty decided to follow Quinn Fabray's foosteps and decided to take acting classes. What with how manipulative she can be, perhaps she can manipulate the audience into loving ever character she can portray.
As for me, I decided to try doing art. Yes, art. Well, how I got into it was quite a story, really.
I tried to take the road less traveled by
But nothing seems to work the first few times
Am I right?
FLASHBACK
"Okay, thanks for the ride, Son of Frankenteen." Kitty unbuckled her seatbelt, reached for her Cheerios messenger bag in the back and opened the car door. After stepping out and shutting the door, I decided to look for an open parking spot because I needed to pee first. Well, after a long day and a little too much Coke from McDonalds before driving Kitty to acting class, I really couldn't hold it in.
I stepped out of my black SUV and locked the door with the car remote before heading inside the white, three-story building known as the Lima Recreation Center. Since the disbandment of Glee Club and since Principal Sylvester tried to minimize the number of clubs dedicated to the arts, some of us sought refuge here at the Rec Center, which I wonder if Principal Sylvester even knew existed. If she did, she probably didn't give a single fuck about it. Okay, back to the story.
After asking this female African-American guard who was manning the entrance to the Rec Center where the restroom was, I was able to enter through the building's glass doors and into the pristine, white corridors of the venue. My eyes darted left and right for the restroom. The guard did tell me there was one on the ground floor. A few glances later, I spotted an open door which let out the sound of what I could assume was the voice of an elderly man. Out of curiosity, I decided to take a peek at what was going on inside the room. The closer I got to that door, the more audible that deep voice was.
Finally, I got to take a look at the room and to my surprise, I saw (yes, I was correct) a chubby old man with gray hair, thick gray eyebrows and a gray beard to match wearing a blue cardigan and a white dress shirt, khaki pants and black leather shoes. He was walking around a classroom holding a variety of people as they were painting a nude woman with chestnut-colored, pixie-cut hair, blue eyes, fair skin and a slender body with only a sheet to cover her. The old man, who I can safely assume is the class instructor, was taking to some of the students, giving advice with terms I couldn't understand.
But what caught my attention was this preteen African-American girl who was near the door. She was, like everyone else, painting the nude woman, but the little girl was amazing. Her painting was flawless. She captured every little detain of the woman in her artwork. The old man passed by and smiled at the little girl's work.
"You're doing very well, Amanda." The instructor patted Amanda's head and smiled.
Amanda stopped painting for a while to smile at her instructor. "Thank you, Mr. O'Connor." She flashed her teeth and resumed painting.
Mr. O'Connor looked at the door to find me looking at the class interestedly. "Is there something I can help you, Sir?"
My mind immediately processed that the instructor, Mr. O'Connor was asking me that question, to which I replied. "Uhm, nothing." With that, Mr. O'Connor nodded and focused on his students again. I began to turn away to find the restroom again but then, the craziest idea lit up in my head like a lightbulb. "Actually…"
"Yes?" Mr. O'Connor turned his attention towards me again.
I exhaled and asked, "How do I apply for this class?"
The old man smiled and responded, "Ohh! Well, pamphlets and application forms for classes here at the Rec Center are available at the front desk."
I made a toothy smile and thanked the old man and headed towards the front desk to acquire the documents needed for the class and exited the building. I headed back to my car and got in. Before I started the car, I remembered something.
I still haven't used the restroom. Shit.
END FLASHBACK
After picking up my usual large cup of brewed coffee from Coffee Bean, I decided to head back to my apartment in Waverly Place. Yes, I was fortunate enough to get a place near my school. Plus, it's walking distance, so that means I get to save the money that could have been used for commuting into art supplies for school. Oh, where do I study now, you ask? I'm taking up a degree in communications design at Parsons The New School for Design. Yes. THE Parsons. As incredibly difficult it is to get in, I'm glad I did, and I'm happier that my parents decided to let me go.
So how can I ever try to be better?
Nobody ever lets me in
I can still see you, this ain't the best view
On the outside looking in
I've been a lot of lonely places
I've never been on the outside
FLASHBACK
"Parsons?" my dad, a man of 54 with a shaven face from whom I got his looks, asked me over at dinner one night. "Why would you want to go to Parsons, Ryder?"
"Well," I set down my spoon into my bowl of seafood chowder and tried to explain as calmly as I could and considering how my dad as a PhD in economics, I'm pretty sure convincing him will be rather difficult. "You and mom raised me to be the kind of guy that would chase after his dreams. You letting me go to art school would help me become a great artist. I want to make it big out there one day through art." At first, I was able to hold my cool, but as I kept speaking, I couldn't help hold in my enthusiasm towards what could happen for me in the future. "And nowadays, art can take anybody anywhere. Pixar, McCann—hell, with this particular program I'm looking at in Parsons, I can even go into film. The possible career options for me are endless. Plus, it will be me doing something that I love because it's art. It's how I want to share a piece of myself with the world."
My mother, five years younger than my dad, with short, wavy, auburn hair, fair skin and brown eyes, nodded, implying that she understood what I was saying. "Well, son. I'd love for you to go there to Parsons. After all, it's one of the best art schools in the country, yes?"
I nodded as I took in another spoonful of chowder.
"Well, as long as you can take care of yourself, I'll say yes." My mother smiled. I smiled at my mother for her approval, when in reality, I wanted to punch the air with so much joy, but we both knew that my dad had to approve as well. After all, this was an all-or-nothing case.
My dad took a few minutes to think. As seconds passed, tension was growing inside the dining area. The quietness of the dining room was deafening. My heart was racing faster and faster until… "Okay, son. You have my blessing to go." I looked at my dad, who was now smiling at me. My eyes looked towards my mom, who was now smiling at my dad.
I couldn't help but stand up and hug my dad. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much, dad!" With that, I kissed my dad on the scalp and ran towards my room to celebrate by jumping on the bed.
As soon as the door to my room slammed shut, I was screaming at the top of my lungs because I could finally apply to my dream school. I knew that getting in will be hard, but I had to have faith. Besides, the moment you have a dream that's worth fighting for, you fight your way till you make it happen, right?
END FLASHBACK
You saw me there, but never knew
I would give it all up to be
A part of this, a part of you
And now it's all too late so you see
You could've helped if you had wanted to
But no one notices until it's too
Late to do anything
I sighed and smiled as I looked at the view of the city from my apartment window. I finished the last of my coffee before disposing of the paper cup into the trash can near my refrigerator. I looked at my apartment and smiled. The apartment had beige walls with white crown moldings, white wainscoting and white-framed dormer windows. There were three doors in this place; two for the bedrooms and one for the bathroom. As much as I do want a roommate, sometimes, living alone is an advantage. At least the only person I have to clean up after is me, right?
A year has passed since my first year and I still can't believe that I'm in New York, living my dream, thanks to art school.
*thud thud thud*
I heard a banging on the door that went on and on combined with the voice of a girl yelling, "Hey, Son of Frankenteen! Open up! I know you're inside!"
Wait. Son of Frankenteen. Did that noisy girl outside just call me Son of Fankenteen? Wait, is that… no way. It can't be. I walked over to the peephole and looked through it to see her. I knew it was her. Only she would call me that.
Through the peephole, I could see a girl with fair skin, blond hair let down and was dressed in a black-and-red checkered plaid shirt, denim shorts and black Chuck Taylors. She looked at the peephole with a deadpan expression and said, "Any nanosecond now, Ryder."
I turned the gold knob of my door and exclaimed, "No way! Kitty! I can't believe you're here!" I opened my arms to give her a hug, which she was able to block by pushing a box of crap towards my stomach, which I was able to hold onto before the box fell. I looked in the box to find some books, a lamp, a post-it dispenser and other stuff. Kitty bent over to the floor to pick up another box of the same size and pull the handle of her red luggage into my apartment. I was able to process, which extreme shock if I may add, what was happening before my eyes. "Woah, woah, woah. Wait a second. What's with all these boxes? Are you moving into my apartment?"
Still with that deadpan expression on her face and monotonous sarcasm in her speech, she replied, "No, I'm escaping from the law and using your place as a hideout." She set down the box next to my glass coffee table and ordered, "Help me with the other boxes outside."
I walked over to the coffee table to put down the box I had in my hands before going outside to get another box. "So why did you think of moving in here, anyway?"
"Well, it's slightly closer to school. Plus, your parents told my parents about this place and I immediately said yes. I thought it would be better for me to stay here at your place compared to living with some stranger who'd probably be amputated by my hand the moment they touch any of my stuff or eat my leftover dinner." Kitty smiled a little, showing me the nice side of her that I haven't seen much of since our dinner at Breadstix in my second year. Was she really that lonely here in New York, even if we did get to hang out often last year? "Besides, every dyslexic loser needs a mean, hot bitch like me as a sort of BFF here in NYC, especially since everyone else is in Los Angeles now." And now she's back to her usual self.
I rolled my eyes and smiled, "Well, I'm glad you're here to be my roommate."
"Yeah, you should be." She let out a cocky smile as she tied her hair into a ponytail. "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom. I'm assuming it's through the door in the middle?" After fixing her ponytail, she pointed at the brown door in the middle of the two others that led to the bedrooms. Without ny response, she walked towards the bathroom and let herself in.
As soon as the door shut, I let out an audible sigh full of mixed feelings: happy that Kitty's rooming with me; sad that my life inside my number one comfort zone has been invaded, especially by Kitty, of all people; and upset as to why my parents didn't even mention Kitty rooming in with me.
I heard the toilet flush as Kitty exited the bathroom. "Nice centerfold, by the way." She flatly uttered while handing to me a folded poster, which I immediately grabbed from her hands. My face was turning red by the second, embarrased by the fact that I left a centerfold in the bathroom, which would not have happened if my parents told me about Kitty coming. Ugh.
Well, better than having a total stranger room as my roommate.
So how can I ever try to be better?
Nobody ever lets me in
I can still see you, this ain't the best view
On the outside looking in
I've been a lot of lonely places
I've never been on the outside
Okay, yayyy! Chapter one is done.
The song used here is "The Outside" from Taylor Swift's debut album.
Soooooo, what do you think so far, guys? Let me know by reviewing. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
