Ryan remained on the bench, his eyes motionlessly fixed on the two broad backs disappearing down the hallway.
And then it all came running down, the tears he'd been fighting back. The frustration, the exhaustion, the shame, the hopelessness, all flowed freely. He couldn't tell if those tears were because of everything he's been through or because of Adrian's.
He just let them fall anyway, along with the weight of it all.
And by the time he finally forced himself to stand, his legs were stiff and weak from sitting for too long. He walked to the basketball court where Ethan was waiting, sensing Ryan followed Adrian inside and choosing to stay behind.
Ethan's gaze immediately caught the red on Ryan's brown eyes. he said nothing as he knew better than to press. Still, the clear expression on Ethan's face told Ryan that he failed at hiding those tears from his friend.
Ryan's throat tightened, but he didn't say a word about it.
"Fine," Ryan said quietly, slumping into the bench next to Ethan. "Here's what happened…" He began recounting the incident that transpired at the locker room, Adrian's harsh words, and Mike's suggestion to wait a little before trying again. And deliberately skipping the part about the tears.
There's no way he is spelling that out.
"So… what now?" Ethan asked, worried about his friend.
"Mike said I should wait for him to cool off, but… I think I should let it end here since he just…" He trailed off, the word heavy on his tongue.
Ethan blinked sharply. "You will give up? Are you even being serious? Like, that's not even an option. Please, the Ryan I know doesn't yield without a fight. Dude, at this stage, there is basically no option for giving up."
Ryan knew Ethan was right, and giving up shouldn't be on the table. But after facing the reality of Adrian's arrogance and the extent of the gap between them, the thought had almost slipped out.
He closed his eyes briefly. "Okay… fine. I'll try just one last time. If he says no, I'll have to figure out something else."
Ethan leaned back, still shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "But, it's quite unbelievable that Adrian could act like that. I mean, the way he spoke to you… It's really not okay."
Ryan exhaled, frustration pressing down on him. "I know, but he's not wrong. I can barely manage to get my life together, let alone all the knowledge he's worked for. I can't think like him, and I don't have what he has. But…" His jaw tightened as he acknowledge tat fact. "…I still need him. If I don't get his help, I'm finished this semester."
Ethan nodded with determination. "Alright! Let's get this properly. Where does Adrian usually hang out with his friends?" He answered himself, "Mostly his usual spots he posts on IG. But I think I've heard about a clubhouse somewhere. They say it's only for the elite. Adrian and his crew sometimes go there..."
Ryan nodded on and on as he attentively listened to Ethan, a spark of resolve building despite the earlier failure. He had one last shot, but if he failed, it wouldn't be because he didn't try. It just meant looking for other options, even though currently it felt like there were none.
_____________________
The night air was cold. The dark two-story clubhouse stood out at the end of the courtyard, with its unreal windows, soft golden lights, and a vibe that whispered money.
Ryan and Ethan made their way towards the entrance like they belonged there. There were two bouncers with black suits on both sides of the door. They walked up confidently while attempting to mask their intimidation.
One of the bouncers came forward, blocking their way. "Permit ID?" he asked flatly.
Ethan's eyes widened, and he froze. "Uh… permit?" he said, pretending to search himself.
The man did not change his expression. "Members of this club only. You do not have a permit; you do not have an entrance here."
When two girls walked past them into the club without being stopped, it dawned on them that their cover wasn't doing anything.
Ryan turned to Ethan, whose fake confidence had melted away in an instant. But, before either of them could come up with something or an excuse, a voice behind cut into their conversation.
"What's with the holdup, man?"
They turned.
Dylan. A tall guy dressed stylishly in a light denim jacket over a loose-fitting white tee, baggy pants, and a hint of a smirk on the corner of his mouth, which came off as cheeky behind the glasses.
He looked at them both in amusement and at the bouncer as well. "These champs are with me," he said nonchalantly. "These are just new recruits for the media team. Breezy asked to get them upstairs."
The bouncer hesitated momentarily before nodding and stepping aside.
Ryan's eyes fell open in disbelief. Ethan muttered, "Holy shit…" under his breath.
When they were sure they'd successfully passed, they turned to thank Dylan. He grinned, tilted his head slightly, flicking a finger salute at them and making a tsk sound before walking off. That gesture was a mischievous, unmistakable I got you.
For a fleeting second, Ethan thought it was aimed directly at him but he brushed it off almost immediately. They had a mission that required his full attention.
Under the dim lights, colorful lasers cut through the dark, and low chatters of different voices filled every corner of the room. Beneath all those were a mix of jazz and soft hip-hop, blending into the swirl of dancing bodies, while the strong scent of alcohol and expensive cologne lingered in the air.
Ryan's eyes scanned the room, and then he stopped, his eyes on the target.
Dylan had joined his friends at a corner booth: Liam, Mike, and Adrian.
Adrian sat with a half-empty glass of beer in front of him, head a bit tilted down as he turned the drink slowly. His posture was relaxed, yet seemed to vibe strangely to the rhythm of the songs. He wore a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. The first two buttons were undone, just enough to expose the sharp line of his collarbone and his dark hair, slightly tousled.
The aura around him definitely felt different, heavier and colder. Even though he looked calm, distant, and collected in school. Here, Adrian had an expression and atmosphere that just couldn't be placed. Like someone you only dare approach if you aren't of sound mind. Off-limits.
Ryan swallowed hard.
He and Ethan found a small table not too far from Adrian's, not close enough to see everything but definitely far enough to go unnoticed. Ethan ordered two sodas to blend in, and they began waiting.
The minutes dragged on, stretching into what felt like long hours. Dylan and Mike were the loudest, laughing and teasing, every movement showing how drunk they were. Liam was quieter, but occasionally chipped in with a smirk or inaudible remark. Adrian barely spoke. His eyes stayed mostly on the amber liquid in his glass with unreadable expressions
Ryan's heart pounded every time his gaze drifted toward Adrian. He rehearsed what he would say again and again, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.
Finally, Dylan pushed away from the table with a grin. "Let's hit the dance floor," he said, his words slightly slurred. Liam and Mike followed, unsteady but laughing.
Adrian sighed, drained the last of his drink, and leaned back in his chair. He looked faintly tipsy, eyes hooded, expression softer but still distant.
Ethan nudged Ryan under the table. "Now. That's your chance."
Ryan's palms were damp. "Now?"
"Yes. Now. Before he disappears again."
Ryan stood, legs stiff, heart hammering against his ribs. He straightened his shirt, drew a shaky breath, and stepped forward.
Before he made it halfway across the room, Adrian stood. He pushed his chair back slowly, slid his hands into his pockets, and walked toward the back corridor alone.
Ryan froze mid-step.
"Go!" Ethan hissed behind him. "Don't just stand there."
Ryan shook off his fear, and with clenched fists, he hurriedly went after him.
He was almost out of breath by the time he caught up to Adrian at the garage. He grabbed Adrian's hands, panting, and fingers tightening from the effort. Adrian looked down at him, towering over Ryan, and built like a wall. But unlike the locker room encounter, he didn't pull away or speak. He simply waited, patient and scrutinizing the man before him.
Ryan felt both nervous and strangely grateful. He steadied his breathing, wiping the sweat from his forehead before speaking.
"Sorry for stopping you," Ryan said, his voice uneven. "Can you give me a minute? Please, can you listen to what I'm about to say? And if you still reject me, I promise I won't pester you again."
His gaze lifted to Adrian's. Those deep, dark eyes, usually unreadable and nearly emotionless, held something different that night. A trace of amusement and curiosity
Ryan swallowed. "I've thought about it, and I know my request sounds absurd. But I can't give up. I really need you. I know, you said my pennies aren't worth it, but I don't know… is there anything else I can do? Something I can offer to make your time worth it? Maybe I can be useful in other ways…"
He paused and stared up at Adrian, tugging at a faint hope.
For a long moment, Adrian said nothing. Then a faint smirk curled at his lips. "Follow me."
Before Ryan could react, Adrian pulled him toward a sleek black car parked under the garage lights. He pushed Ryan into the passenger seat and slid into the driver's side, the leather creaking under his weight. He was tipsy, the faint flush in his cheeks telling, but sober enough to handle the car. He adjusted the rearview mirror, glanced briefly at Ryan with that same faint smirk, and started the engine, the low vibration of it filling the space between them.
Ryan exhaled shakily, fingers gripping the edge of his seat, telling him that whatever came next, this was his chance.