Thanks for the reviews. About Ryan's reaction at the end of chapter 3, more will be revealed in later chapters. This story will have about fifteen chapters.

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Seth POV

I heard a knock. I didn't need X-ray vision to figure out who was standing at the other side of the door. In addition to the email he sent me, both of my parents made it a point to tell me that Ryan was going to be in town for a few days. Since he became part of my family, the most we'd spent not talking to one another was about a week. Even during college, during finals, living on different coasts, we always made sure we kept in touch and knew what the other was doing. So, the past three months had been very strange. There were times that something happened or someone said something that I wished I could call him up and just speak to him, but I just couldn't get my head around what he'd done to me. Summer claimed that I loved feeling hurt far more than I was hurt but I decided that was just her new California holistic lifestyle talking.

The knock sounded again. I would have ignored it if I could have, but I was sure my parents had told him where I was. "Come in," I bellowed. I knew I'd have to see him sooner or later, so what difference would it make?

"Hi," he said, pushing the door and stepping in. He looked pretty good – his skin looked healthy, he'd recently had a haircut and his face looked a little more angular. In all the time I'd known him, he'd always worked out and I could swear that he'd neither lost nor gained more than a pound in the last five years. I wasn't an expert at gauging people's weights but I was sure he'd lost at least ten pounds. Plus he just didn't seem quite as content as he normally did. Unless the extra pressure that came from his new gig as Executive Producer/Manager was kicking his ass, something was definitely up. But, other than a fleeting moment of worry, I couldn't have cared less.

"So how does it feel to be back here?" he asked, looking around my room. I hadn't fully unpacked since I returned home and my open suitcase was lying next to my bed.

"It feels fine."

"My band's here. We've got a few radio interviews lined up and we're most likely going to the E! show on Wednesday. Leno put us--"

"I know, you're on the waiting list yada yada yada yada," I interrupted, "it was in your email. You don't have to tell me all about it again." I winced at my own rudeness but what the hell? I had every right to be rude to him and treat him any way I felt because he was the one in the wrong. If we really were as close as we pretended to be, he should just have known better. He was living his life in New York, being in love and becoming a big shot music producer and I was back in California, living with my parents and working at a dead-end job. Hell yeah, I had every freaking right to say whatever I wanted to him.

"That's good," he commented, remaining stoic. "The boys are downstairs and they'd love to say hello," he informed me as he turned around and walked out of my room.

----

"Hey," a chorus welcomed me as I walked into the kitchen.

"Cali looks good on you," Walter the guitarist said, standing up and patting me on my arm.

"You know? Even the weather is kind to his hair," Jake, the lead singer joked, raising his glass at me from the other side of the table.

"What are you boys doing here?" I asked, sitting on a stool. "You guys should go to the living room," I encouraged, pointing it out to them.

"That's where we were till we remembered we were hungry." Jake chuckled and patted his stomach.

"And Ryan didn't want us messing your lovely furniture," a guy I didn't know contributed. Just before I relocated, Mike, their drummer, had left and I guessed I was staring at his replacement.

"I've been on a bus with you boys, remember?" Ryan said, glancing at me.

I picked up a carton of orange juice and poured it into the glass sitting in front of me.

After a few minutes of listening to the guys talk about groupies and life on the road, Jonah, the keyboardist, piped up. "Hey, Seth, whatever happened to that girl you were dating?"

It enraged me that Ryan didn't even have the decency to move a muscle. Couldn't he see how humiliated I was? Even strangers were going to get the chance to laugh at me. "Which girl?" I replied, playing dumb.

"What do you mean, 'which girl?' We only met you like four times and each time she was with you. Blonde, thin, pretty…" Jake piped in.

"Oh, that girl."

"Yes, that one," they laughed.

"Well, I wouldn't know anything about her. Why don't you ask Ryan? I bet he could tell you many interesting and very intimate details about her."

Shocked, they all stared at me in silence. Jake squinted as if he'd suddenly understood something then slowly, they all turned to look at Ryan who was doing everything in his power to avoid their eyes.

Satisfied, I got off the chair. "I guess I'll be going. Tell my mother I won't be having any dinner – I've lost my appetite anyway."

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"Seth, what the hell are you doing here?" Summer asked as I followed her into her living room.

"Nothing. Got anything to eat?"

She plopped on her couch and told me to look inside her fridge. Unfortunately, the only things I found were carrots and green leafy vegetables of all varieties.

"Got any real food? I'm starving!"

"Check the oven," she called back.

I peered in and found a platter of fried chicken with some potato wedgies. Smiling, I piled my plate and joined her in front of the television.

"What happened to your healthy lifestyle?" I asked through a full mouth.

"I got hungry. Now shut up – I have to concentrate."

"It's by Marc Jacobs," a voice from the television said. Summer was watching an awards show red carpet thing a little too intently. I never realized that fashion designers cared so much about their colleagues that they wasted valuable hours of their day watching lame shows to see new designers or why ever the hell she was doing it.

I was back in the kitchen getting some more chicken when I heard a scream. I ran back, in the process, dropping a very precious drumstick on the floor.

"What? What happened?"

"That bitch!" she fumed. "That skinny, I-look-like-a-man-with-boobs cow! GOD I'M GOING TO KILL HER! By the time I'm done with her she's going to regret the day we ever met!"

"What, what are you talking about?" It looked to me that screaming at a television screen was particularly healthy.

"That bitch! She made me do eight, I said, EIGHT different fittings, each time requesting new things. The dress I drew and the one I finally made aren't even related. 'Make this longer, cut this deeper,'" she mimicked, "my God, she worked me like a little monkey and in the end, didn't even wear the fucking dress. Skank!"

"Summer, calm down."

I was standing behind the couch so she had to turn her head around to look at me. "The bitch came into my showroom asking for a dress to wear to the SAG awards. See, I have this policy where I don't give my dresses away. I mean, these actresses make millions of dollars, there's no reason they shouldn't pay for their own dresses."

"Okay?"

"So like every good designer, I show her my collection. She tells me that she's presenting an award so my dress will definitely be on stage, which is great, so she thought that it was only fair that she get the dress for free. I tell her to pick out a dress and then I'll think about it. I figured that if she chose a cheap dress, I'll let her have it. She goes through all my clothes with a fine toothed comb and tells me she wants me to design an original for her. Of course this annoyed me; she was telling me that she didn't like any of my designs."

"I see."

"Exactly! So I asked her where she heard of me – I planned to kill whoever referred the Zoloft queen to me! She tells me she saw an article in Entertainment Weekly and fell in love with the dress I'd made for some actress. An actress who paid full price, no less, but I didn't say anything. Anyway, we finally agree that if I design a dress specifically for her, she could only borrow it. And guess what, with all those hours and money I put into it, she didn't even wear it!" She picked up her phone and furiously punched in some numbers.

"Who are you calling?"

"Who do you think? My lawyer! She didn't live up to her end of the deal so she's going to have to pay for that dress in cash. With all the time and energy I put into it, I'm sure it's around $10,000!"

"Isn't it a little late to call?" My tummy had started rumbling again and I needed to get back to my fried foods.

She looked at her watch. "Well, it's not exactly late, but it's Saturday so I'll wait till Monday – the poor man shouldn't have to suffer because this woman thinks she can outsmart me."

----

A few hours later, we were watching a movie and eating some popcorn when she softly asked, "Seth, what's going on?"

"The guy just told her that her mother had killed his father when they were both kids," I replied, explaining the scene to her.

"Not that, dummy! I'm talking about at home," she explained, sitting up.

"Nothing." I didn't want to look at her and give anything away. I thought her ability to read me had died with our relationship but apparently, I couldn't have been more wrong. Even when I tried to mask my feelings with a joke, she could cut through all the bullshit.

"Of course there's something. You wouldn't have just shown up like this if there wasn't."

I dropped my bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and looked at her in the dim light. "Oh, are you saying that I need to get an appointment before I come over?"

"Listen, Cohen, stop trying to get into a fight with me. Just tell me what happened. Did your parents piss you off?"

I moved my butt, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the couch, then turned my face to the screen just in time to catch the movie's heroine jump off a moving boat. "Not really. Ryan came over with his band."

"His band? The one that's being referred to as 2013's 'Hootie & the blowfish'? That one?" I nodded. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have loved to meet them. Did you meet the lead singer? He's so cute," she cooed, staring dreamily at the ceiling.

"God, not you too," I grunted. "You can't be a groupie – you meet famous people all the time."

"D-list actors don't quality… But, wait, are they assholes? Is that why you left?" she asked sounding like she hoped they weren't.

"No, they're cool. They aren't the problem…"

It dawned on her after a few moments. "Gosh, not that again!" She hit the back of the couch in frustration. "At some point, you're going to have to get over this. She didn't love you, it's that simple. I'm sure she tried but she couldn't. It's part of life -nothing to keep being so angry about."

"No. It's not that simple. She left me for my best friend -my roommate. We were like brothers. When we agreed to share everything, I didn't know that also included my girlfriend. Ryan is, was… I just never thought he'd be that guy."

"And he's not. That's exactly why you should know that it was something he couldn't help. Even if Ryan wasn't around, it never would have worked. You and Anna were never meant to be."

"You're right. It would never have worked. With me, it never ever works. I must be doomed to be alone or something."

"Quit the whining," she hissed. "You know that's just bullshit."

"Of course it's not. It's never worked with anyone I thought I loved. Not Anna, not Caroline, not even you… Is there really a point? Should I even bother dating? Because it looks like no girl I want wants me back."

"I'm sure Anna loves you… just not the way you want."

"You're right. She loves him that way."

"And it's no reason for you to give up and everything. Speaking of your exes…" she said, her voice trailing off.

"What?" My ears perked up. I never minded a little juicy gossip every now and then.

"I thought we had a good relationship."

Oh. "Till you got tired of me."

"Tired of you?"

"Yeah, you always seemed so bored whenever I called – like there was someplace else you'd have preferred to be." I was really surprised about how our relationship ended because in high school I honestly didn't think I could date any other woman. But as life had taught me, I was wrong about way too many things.

"Is that honestly what you thought?" she asked.

"What? You're trying to say you didn't feel that way?"

"Seth, we lived on different time zones and we were both busy with school. I wasn't ever bored with you – I was shocked when you broke it off. I just think we never figured out how to make the long distance thing work. It had nothing to do with finding you boring or whatever ridiculous thing you thought or think or whatever. My God, you can be so daft sometimes!" she scolded, throwing a chair pillow at me.

I threw one right back at her, and soon after, we were so engrossed in pounding each other with our pillows that we forgot all about the movie.