Chapter Text
Ryland turned around, internally sighing as he got ready to tell this new person that “No, I’m not Colt, I’m his twin brother, blah, blah, blah…” until he turned around.
Wait.
Wait.
Ryland stared at the stranger’s face, squinting through his glasses. This tall, blond, sunglasses-wearing guy - it was an observation, okay?! - guy looked really familiar. Jean-Claude seemed to know him, considering the dog looked more excited seeing him than anyone else on set, even if he was still content to continue receiving scratches.
The man, in question, had his sunglasses balanced over his head as he stared back at Ryland. Suddenly, he tilted his head in confusion. “Wait- nuh uh. No way. You’re not Colt. The fuck?”
Ryland stood up, picking at the sleeve of his cardigan. “Language.” He blurted out, wincing after he opened his mouth. “Sorry. Habit.” Pushing up his glasses, Ryland tried for a smile, though he figured it came off as a grimace. “Um, I’m Ryland. Grace. I’m Colt’s twin brother.”
“You are?”
The man made a face, slightly offended, before it turned into puzzlement. “Seriously?” He questioned. “You don’t recognize me? Tom Ryder? The guy that’s running the whole show?”
Oh, fudge crackers.
Ryland’s face dropped, his eyes slightly widening. Dang it. Oh, really shooting himself in the foot right now. No wonder the man looked familiar, it was Tom fricking Ryder!
Before Ryland could open his mouth to say anything, probably apologize, Tom beat him to the chase. “You said you were Colt’s twin?” Tom emphasized, sceptical now. “He never mentioned a twin. Or even a brother, actually.”
Ryland shrugged, messing with a loose thread. “A lot of people don’t know about me.” Tom made a small noise, not saying anything in return. Ryland hovered around for a second, before awkwardly crouching down to continue stroking Jean-Claude’s fur. It would’ve been weird to sit back down on the chair while Tom was standing right in front of him.
“I, uh…he’s your dog, isn’t he? He’s sweet. Kinda hard to communicate though, with the French and all.” The dog licked Ryland’s hands, tail wagging furiously. Ryland laughed softly, petting Jean-Claude’s head.
Tom made a small, non-committal noise in his throat, before clearing it loudly. “Yeah! Yeah, I got him like that.” Ryland glanced up at him, who in turn, stared back with what seemed like a serious expression.
“So. Ryland. Can I call you ‘Ry’?” Tom smirked, the confidence returning in his posture. “‘Ry’ suits you. I’ll call you ‘Ry.’”
Ryland raised his eyebrows, awkwardly laughing as he stood up again. “As long as you’re okay with ‘Tom’…?”
More silence. Tom was back to staring.
“Or maybe not!” Ryland backtracked. “‘Cause that’s just your name…! So that’s not really a nickname…” Tom waved a hand, stumbling over his words all of a sudden. “Nah, most people actually just call me Ryder. Some people call me Tom. Mostly Gail.” He paused, before he spoke a little quicker. “But! That’s Gail…she’s, y’know?” Ryland just nodded, unsure of how to reply.
“Can I have your number?” Tom asked bluntly, causing Ryland’s eyes to dart back to him. “I mean, now that I’ve actually seen you…you do look different from Colt. It’s probably your vibe or something…” Ryland widely stared up at the actor, before patting his pockets for his phone, holding it out for him to take. “Right, yeah, here you go!” Words were failing him right now, fudge. Instead of saying anything else, Ryland just vaguely gestured towards the device.
Tom took it from him with a lazy movement, typing his number into the contact, handing it back with a quiet huff of laughter.
Ryland took his phone back with shaky hands - why were his hands shaking? Get a grip, Grace, you’ve gone head-to-head with famous scientists and researchers! He scrambled his brain for an excuse to quickly leave, phone still tightly clutched in his hand.
“I should- I should probably go.” Ryland stammered, jabbing a thumb over his back. “Don’t want Jody or anyone else - definitely not Colt - to start looking all over for me.” Tom opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he quickly became distracted by Jean-Claude pawing at his leg. Reaching down to pet the canine, he called after Ryland. “Hey! Text me later! Tell Seavers he should’ve introduced us sooner!”
Ryland’s hand twitched in a movement that somewhat passed for a wave, before he whirled around, back to the tent he saw Jody last. He plopped down on another chair in the corner, huffing out a breath of air. Holy, was he tired. Unlocking at his phone, he stared at the new contact.
It read: “Tom”.
Even had the winking emoji next to it.
Ryland turned off his phone with a quiet chuckle, pushing his glasses up his nose. They were lopsided. Were they falling off the whole time? He buried his face in his hands, groaning. He probably looked like a doofus.
What a day.
———————————
Tom just wanted to know why Seavers was hanging around by his dog. He swears that the stuntman was with the director, like, five minutes ago.
So, looking down at the lookalike was an…experience. How the hell did he mistake this…angel? Angel. How did he mistake this Angel for Seavers? Sure, they’re identical, but still.
Tom didn’t even realize that he’d already started talking, his words falling over one another in his disbelief. “-the fuck?”
Calling him out for the language? Ha, cute. Ryland Grace. Different last name? Knew it. Colt Seavers had to be a stage name. Though Colt Grace doesn’t ring right either.
“-you are?”
Tom blinked, the thoughts bouncing around his head obliterating themselves as he stared at Ryland. Usually, he’d be confused, but right now he’s mostly just…sad? Offended? Definitely a little offended. Who wouldn’t recognize Tom Ryder?
Clearly, Mr. Pretty boy didn’t. Not until he introduced himself. He’ll admit, it was funny to see the shock in Ryland’s eyes. Still, it was odd that Colt never mentioned the fact that he had a twin.
Whatever Ryland said in response to Tom’s statement was completely ignored, considering the actor was too busy admiring his eyes.
Blue was the main factor. A lot of blue, a little bit of grey, green…whatever, Tom wasn’t an artist.
He blinked back into awareness when those eyes moved downwards. How to get the prettier, more handsome version of Seavers to stop staring at Jean-Claude. That was a little problem.
Hm…Ryland was a mouthful…can’t call him Grace, that’s the last name…Seavers probably has a nickname for him, doesn’t he? Think, Ryder, think. What could be a nickname you could steal from your stuntman for his attractive brother?
“-I’ll call you ‘Ry.’”
Perfect.
Tom paused when Ryland replied, having to process the words he’d just said. He stared as the taller man rambled, fidgeting around. He had no right saying his name like that. It was very different when other people called him Tom.
Gail sounded tired. Or annoyed. Most other people really emphasized his name for some reason, or if it was one of their current exes, really dragged it out.
Ryland - Ry - made his name sound really lighthearted. “Holy Shakespeare,Tom, you should start writing poetry.”
“Can I have your number?” Tom really needed that phone number. Typically, he’d mainly be doing this just to mess with Colt but right now? Seavers was probably the last thing on his mind right now.
The guy would be pretty pissed though, wouldn’t he? Tom silently laughed to himself as he entered his contact name and number. Seeing Ryland start to move, Tom tried to stall him for a second, until Jean-Claude started pawing at his leg.
That usually meant treats, or else the canine would start barking. Loud barking meant complaints. Complaints meant Gail coming over. Last thing Tom needed right now, considering he was in such a good mood right now.
“Hey! Text me later!” He remembered to call out, waving back at Ryland with a wide grin. “Tell Seavers he should’ve introduced us sooner!” His grin widened when the man waved back, watching him turn back around and walk away.
What a day.