Chapter Text
The writing team is starting to get real sick of Ryland’s crap.
He knows.
They’re not being subtle about it.
But, well. It's not his fault Jody wanted scientific accuracy for her android werewolf gothic style horror romance movie, and if that accuracy ruins some of their writing then, well. Maybe they should try harder to be a little more realistic with their ideas about biology before they start writing stuff. Or maybe they should come talk to Ryland and ask for his input because, you know, it’s not like it’s the entire reason he’s even here or anything.
It’s fine.
It’s fine.
Really.
Ryland’s not annoyed with the writing team.
Well.
Okay.
Maybe a little, but it’s more like in the way he gets annoyed with his sixth graders–irritated when they’re being loud and rambunctious and not entirely following along with the lesson, but ultimately forgiving of it all, because Ryland knows they’re trying their best. They’re not dedicated research scientists. They didn’t waste years of their lives and thousands of dollars to get a doctorate in microbiology with a specialization in extremophiles and speculative xenobiology like Ryland did. Jody’s writing team is working with what they have, and what they have is a wonderful imagination that Ryland is, frankly, a little jealous of, and a tired and overworked middle school science teacher who really would just like to go home and sleep in his own bed for a night or two, please and thank you.
The writing team leaves Jody’s trailer in a huff and with a few well placed stinkeyes.
Ryland just smiles and waves them out.
They do act remarkably like his sixth graders sometimes.
It makes him a bit nostalgic.
“Sure we can't convince you to stay?” Jody asks once the door closes with a final and well timed smack.
Trailer doors, Ryland has learned over the past few weeks, don’t really slam shut.
Ryland shakes his head. “As much as I'd love to help you guys pick out flower arrangements, I've really gotta get going on school stuff.” He grabs his bag from the little coffee table, slinging it over his shoulder. Then, after a moment, he swipes the keys for Colt’s jeep. There’s a little souvenir keychain on them. From Seoul. Courtland got them matching keychains a year or so ago, mostly as a joke after Colt complained that their older brother never brought them back anything fun from his trips. They’re dumb. They’re dumb little keychains, and Ryland keeps his on his school lanyard. “I’ve procrastinated enough that I’ve run out of procrastination time.”
“Oh, that's alright.” Jody says easily. “I'll just get your help when you come back.”
Ryland huffs out a laugh.
“You all packed?” Colt pushes open the trailer door, waving Ryland and Jody out first before following after them.
Ryland nods.
He’d packed this morning, jamming everything into Colt’s jeep in a wild approximation of a rushed game of tetris before he even got to set. It was a long drive back to San Francisco, and Ryland doesn’t want to waste time or daylight. He hates driving enough as it is, and he’d like to leave out as much night driving as he could possibly manage–although with the way the sun was quietly and quickly working its way down the horizon, Ryland wasn’t confident it would be much. Despite the early start to the day, things had still run over. They usually run late, Jody had said right around when Ryland started obsessively checking the time on his phone, looking entirely apologetic as she did.
“Alright–text us when you get there, yeah?” Colt throws an arm around Ryland’s shoulder as they start towards the parking lot.
Ryland scoffs. “Don't I always?”
Colt snorts. “Fuck no. You forget half the time.”
Ryland sticks his tongue out at him.
Colt responds in kind.
“Boys,” Jody chides gently.
Colt knocks it off before Jody finishes saying that single word, but Ryland still blows one last raspberry at his brother before he reigns it in.
“Seriously though–” Colt stops them just on the edge of the parking lot, yanking Ryland back before he can put his foot onto the asphalt. Colt’s jeep is in the first row, just a few steps away, the rubber ducks he has piled up on the dashboard all staring in unison at Ryland. “--text me when you get home.”
“I will.” Ryland glances over his shoulder at Colt. “I promise.”
Colt stares at him for a moment, obviously not believing him.
Then he pulls out his phone.
“...what are you doing?” Ryland asks.
“Telling Simon to remind you to text me.” Colt answers.
Ryland presses his tongue to his teeth. “Oh, for Pete's sake–”
Colt getting Simon’s phone number is a recent development.
Ryland’s not sure if Colt wrangled it out of Simon the last time he visited, if Colt just got it off of Ryland’s phone himself (their phone passwords are, oddly enough and entirely unplanned, exactly the same. Neither of them ever cared enough to change it), or if he puppy dog eyed his way into getting Courtland to give it to him. Ryland is under no disillusion that Courtland doesn’t have access to things like that. His oldest brother knows things he shouldn’t, and Ryland has stopped being concerned about it a while ago.
He’s far too stressed about far too many other things to add his oldest brother’s seemingly infinite ability to collect a stranger’s personal information to that list.
Ryland had asked Simon if it bothered him, that if he didn’t want Colt to have his number Ryland would be more than happy to get it off his phone, but Simon had only shook his head and smiled.
It’s fine, I don’t mind, he’d said. Honestly, it’s probably a good thing. I have someone to call in case something happens to you.
And that had made Rylands heart do some…rather concerning things.
So, he humors Colt.
Ryland crosses his arms and watches with a frown as Colt taps away at his phone with his tongue sticking out in mock concentration. He’s making exaggerated movements, mouthing out the words he’s typing, and Ryland kind of wants to smack him.
Jody watches on in fond amusement, a soft and sugar sweet smile curling around her lips.
And then, rather inexplicably, her smile falls.
“Hey, there you are!”
Ryland sucks in a sharp breath.
“I was worried you’d left already.” Ryder neatly slots himself beside Ryland, all smiles and boyish charm. His breathing is a little labored, like he’d hurried to get over here.
“I was just about to.” Ryland says. He jingles the car keys for emphasis. The keychain knocks against metal bits of the keys, making an oddly pleasant sound. “It's a pretty long drive, so...” Ryland gestures to the jeep and the row of rubber ducks watching them like it’s a spectator sport. “...you know.”
Ryder hums absentmindedly. “You sure you wanna make that drive on your own?”
“I'll be fine.” Ryland says a little more firmly than he'd meant to. He takes a step back, putting a bit of distance between them. “It's not the first time I've made it.”
“I'd hate for something to happen to you,” Ryder continues like he hadn't even heard Ryland.
“I think we all would.” Colt butts in.
Ryder looks back at him, annoyed.
Colt looks just as annoyed and shoves his phone back in his pocket with far more force than necessary.
Ryland clears his throat. “Right, well, I'm gonna–”
“Hugs first!” Colt demands, cutting Ryland off.
Ryland sighs, but throws his arms open and braces himself.
He grunts as Colt throws himself at him, but manages to stay standing. When they were younger Colt would launch his entire body weight at Ryland when they hugged for no other reason than that he could. They’d usually go toppling to the ground. Ryland never had the body strength to catch him, and Colt didn’t have the sense of balance he did now to keep them from falling over. Courtland would chastise them every time, but he would smile every time too, not really upset more so that he was just making sure neither of them were hurt.
Colt hasn’t really stopped doing that, but Ryland can at least hold his ground now.
Colt hugs him like Ryland is going to be gone for weeks instead of just the weekend, and for a brief moment Ryland considers staying.
He doesn’t really get to see Colt anymore.
Colt is always so busy these days, hopping from movie set to movie set, leaving the country and coming back to it at a rate that almost matches Courtland. This is the first time in a while that Ryland has gotten to spend time with his twin, that he’s been able to actually sit down with him and properly catch up. There’d been a surprising amount of time for it in between filming takes, and it’s been…it’s been really, really nice.
Ryland is loath to give that up, even if only for a weekend.
“Okay–” Colt pulls back, clapping his hands onto Ryland’s shoulders. “Go set up your classroom. Don’t crash my car, but if you are gonna crash it make it look cool. And remember to brace yourself and press your whole body back into the seat or else you’ll get insane whiplash.”
Ryland gives him a thumbs up.
Colt smiles.
It’s soft.
Just a little vulnerable.
“Love you, Ry,” he says.
“Love you too, Coltie,” Ryland echoes, and he doesn’t miss the way Jody’s face lights up at that nickname.
He pulls away from Colt and slips into another hug with Jody. It’s not quite as tight and overbearing as Colt’s had been, but it’s a loving one all the same.
“Drive safe, yeah?” Jody says.
“I will, I promise.”
“And text me when you get home.” Colt repeats. He points at Ryland in a vaguely threatening way as he steps back from Jody. “If I don’t hear from you in the next seven hours I’m calling Court.”
It’s very much so a threat.
“I will text you. I swear.” Ryland readjusts the bag on his shoulder and takes a step back onto the asphalt of the parking lot.
He should probably set an alarm on his phone as a reminder.
He really doesn’t want Colt to call Courtland.
“Bye, Ryland.” Ryder says with a wave.
Ryland smiles.
It feels tight.
“Bye, Tom.” Still, he can be polite. “See you guys on Monday.”
Ryder lights up, and Ryland is quick to spin on his heel and even quicker to get in the car.