July 23, 2004 12:24am
Real Folk Blues
Heartbreak Hotel
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Ryo's POV...
The first thing I noticed when Dee and I walked inside the club was the smoke that stung your eyes, the overly loud music that pounded at your temples, and the crescendo of chatter from the people inhabiting the various tables, barstools, and dance floor. I knew I looked like a prude, standing there with a pinched expression of distaste evident on my face, but it simply wasn't my type of scene. I glance over at Dee out of habit, then look away quickly and seat myself in one of the chairs. I knew I was being selfish, but...why did Randy have to work here? Even better question- why did Theo and Ryan insist on visiting him here while we were supposed to be on stakeout?
Dee himself was quite at home here, swinging his lanky frame easily onto a chair and lighting up a cigarette. "Where'd Theo and Ryan go?" There it was, that undertone of awkward politeness that we used whenever we had to speak to one another. I avoided his eyes and shrugged. "I'm not sure. I thought I saw them at the bar." Simple words, short sentences. . .it was how we communicated, should anything more lead to us having to analyze our 'problem'. I didn't want to analyze it- I just wanted it to go away. I wanted to stop loving him.
"Ryo! Dee! There you are!" Randy was at the bar, waving cheerily at us. I wasn't much in the mood to talk, but I plastered a smile on my face and went over anyways. Dee followed suit, settling himself on a barstool. I tried to ignore him, and turned to Randy.
"Hi there. Have you seen Ryan and Theo?" Randy, who was wearing some ridiculous little thing that served as an apron, waved vaguely at a customer. "I'll be there in a second!- That's right, you two are on a stakeout for them, aren't you?" Dee answered that one for me.
"Yeah. We're just here to booze a little and scan the place for any potential Mafia. . ." His voice wavered in and out of my head, and I decided it would be best to just tune him out completely. His voice still buzzed faintly in the background as I turned my attention to the dance floor. It was packed with sweaty bodies that pulsed and jerked to the pounding, sensuous music. The dancers moved with wild abandon, flailing limbs about and dancing with anyone and everyone with no gender discrimination whatsoever.
I found it faintly interesting, watching them, a species apart from myself. Then, some loud hollering and whooping came from a corner of the crowd, and I turned my attention there. Some kind of circle had formed around two dancers in particular, and I had to crane my neck to see who they were. When I did, I had to suppress a snicker of disbelief.
Randy had wandered over again, ignoring the impatient animals demanding booze. He nodded at the crowd, a dopey grin sliding onto his face. "Ryan and Theo are quite popular with the locals at this club. Good dancers, too."
"Well, look at that." A voice wafted into my ear, and I jumped slightly. Dee shook his head at me and went on. "'Friends', huh? Pretty friendly, aren't they?" I glared at him, surprised that the comment would sting so deep. Dee and I had been 'friendly' like that once, a million years ago. Apparently, once he was done with you, he was done, memories and all. I slid off the stool, feeling the beginnings of a nervous breakdown coming on. I start to sweat a little, breathe harder, and my heart pounds rapidly. Not a pretty sight, let me tell you.
"I'm going to go dance." I mumbled, not caring if anyone heard me properly, and made a mad dash for the dance floor. The music was suddenly enticing, the crowd inviting- why hadn't I noticed it before? Pushing my way through the pulsating, screaming crowd, I finally made it to a place where I could see properly.
Ryan and Theo were in the thick of it, to be sure, and their dancing together was a little more then what friendship would require. In fact, they were blatantly dancing in a style so popular among clubbers these days, known as 'freaking'. However, I couldn't quite condemn them, because something made me stop and watch them, made the scolding expression I knew I had on my face disappear and my slight tutting catch in my throat. The expressions on their faces, the sinewy movements of their bodies, just the pure joy in moving together to the rhythmic beating of the song. . .it made me feel a bit peculiar, like I was intruding on something.
After a bit, I couldn't look at them anymore. My chest felt tight, like it would explode any second and splatter my heart all over the floor. So, I slunk back to the barstools and perched on them, trying to act casual once more. Dee and Randy were talking now, murmurs floating towards me that I didn't catch. They sounded so many miles away, or like they were underwater. Dee glanced towards me, said something, and turned back to Randy. I didn't much care anymore. The music still thumped, but it was the beating of butterfly wings. The clubbers still chattered on, but it was only the whispering of the wind. All I could hear, feel, see, and taste even, was memories. Memories of Dee and myself- our first kiss, that time he came over to keep me company on Christmas, when we went out to dinner, when he held me...it all blurred together after a while.
It suddenly became so clear, so brilliantly and acutely clear to me. The motions of his body, the way his hair fell and his hands moved when he talked, the expressions that took over his face as he lit another cigarette... Dee was so real, so defined, and so lovely it hurt. I didn't want to love him anymore, I told myself, turning away to glance at the other surroundings. No need for him to be in my life anymore. Barely conscious of my own motions, I picked up my coat and stumbled towards the door.
"Ryo, where the hell are you headed?" There was Dee at my arm, eyebrow quirked upwards as he took notice of the fact that I was headed towards the door.
"I'm leaving, Dee. Do the stakeout yourself. I'm tired, and I'll see you in the morning at the precinct. Don't forget the reports." It was so unlike me to snap at anyone, and even more so to leave in the middle of an assignment. I guessed that Dee agreed, from his surprised look. I turned away and shoved open the door, stumbled out into the slushy New York rain, hailed a taxi.
Who cared about Dee? I asked myself as I climbed in and told the taxi driver where to go. He was just another object in my past now, nothing to me.
At least, he shouldn't be. Even though he still was.
The taxi driver was probably curious as to why the man in the backseat was quietly sobbing to himself, but he said nothing and drove on in silence. After all, it wasn't anything new to wonder at. In New York relationships, they all cried. It was nothing but sorrow and heartbreak- simply a Heartbreak Hotel sort of thing.
I stopped crying when I got out of the taxi and shoved a crumpled wad of bills at the driver. I was all cried out, and I was still in love- it made no difference. He grunted his thanks and sped off, the smog blowing back in my face. It smelled faintly of rotten meat, or maybe eggs. The rain started to fall on me, pattering into the gutters and onto the sidewalks. I let it.
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Dee: You had better have liked it. Me and Ryo suffered some serious emotional damage in this one. Thanks a whole freaking bunch, Storm.
Ryo:....I cried? Since when do I cry?
Storm: Since it helped the angst value of the chapter. Read and review, people? Or I'll sick Bikky and Carol on you! -Frantic waving-