Chapter Text
Ryland had his back facing the class when he heard a commotion going on behind him. It was normal for them to get a bit rowdy, but this one seemed worth acknowledging.
“Woah! C’mon, guys, what’s got you all worked up?” He caught one of them turn their head to their seatmate. “I won’t hesitate to confiscate something if I catch you passing papers.”
The kids kept talking over each other. He couldn’t make it out until one of the more outspoken kids, Gio, pointed out, “Mr. Grace, someone is peeking at the window!”
Ryland followed to where he was pointing at, and sure enough, he could see a man in a baseball cap and large orange sunglasses peering into the room like some kind of creep.
Michael was the first person that popped into his head. Probably because Michael was the only guy in the teaching staff who kept believing the AI videos with the talking fruits. Ryland must have been feeling irritated about it all day that the man was starting to haunt his subconscious.
But Michael wasn’t that tall, nor did he have that particular curly blond hair that seemed to tickle his brain a certain way.
Those sunglasses too… Michael wasn’t a “glasses indoors” wearing type, even if he was an adjacent type of douche.
Uh-oh. His stomach dropped.
Crap, he knew exactly who that is, and he did not like where this was going. He hoped his guess was wrong.
He faced his students and raised his index finger. “Uh, give me one moment.”
Sprint was the most appropriate word to describe how quickly he made it to the door, almost ripping it off the hinges to confirm his suspicions.
Tom flipping Ryder tilted his sunglasses down just enough to wink at him.
Ryland’s breath caught, momentarily forgetting to close the door behind him.
The students were all gossips. There was no need to make their jobs easier by having them eavesdrop on this very private conversation, thank you very much.
“Wha—” Ryland choked, then he cleared his throat, puffing his chest up to appear more confident. His voice was a mix of shout and whisper. “What are you doing here? As a matter of fact, how did you get in here? You didn’t bribe anyone to let you in, did you?”
Tom! In a school! That doesn't make sense!
Tom raised his hand to stop his rambling. “Babe, it’s fine. One of the guards just wanted an autograph and then I just started walking until I found somewhere sunny with lots of windows and greenery and just stuff I know you like, Ry, and there you were,” he finished with a flourish, his head tilted as he gazed at Ryland with a fond smile—damn if that didn’t make his insides flip.
He shook his head vigorously. Ryland Grace was not a pushover. “Tom,” he said, voice dropping a tad lower. “Why are you here—”
“I just told you,” Tom whined. “Don’t you listen to me?”
“—in this school?” Ryland stressed. “How are you here right now? Does Gail know where you are? Are you filming a promo here or something? Colt didn’t tell me anything about this!”
Tom threw his head back in exasperation, blowing a raspberry and making Ryland grimace. “C’mon, Ry. Your brother’s not my handler. Frankly, I’m insulted by that idea.”
“Gail literally has him running around after you,” Ryland retorted. “And Colt tells me everything.”
That got him an eye roll from Tom. “Snitching ass bitch,” he muttered under his breath.
Ryland glared at him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Talking to Tom always took years off his life.
Tom, surprisingly, dropped some of his bravado and sighed. “Fine. A bunch of journalists wanted interviews for Metalstorm in San Fran—’course I was gonna take it. I just had my lunch break so I went here to get a glimpse of your pretty little face.”
Tom reached up to caress his chin with his finger. Ryland turned his head away and swatted the hand when it chased after him.
“Aren’t you happy? Because I’m happy. I miss you, babe,” Tom said, without shame.
Heat surged up his cheeks. Hiding how Tom’s words affected him only seemed to make it even more obvious to Tom whose ego was certainly going through the roof at his reaction.
He grits out, “I don't miss you.”
“No?” Tom sucked his bottom lip and swiped his tongue over it. “Not even a little bit? How long have we last seen each other?"
“Look. Can you just go? I have a class to teach.” He was about to reach for the doorknob and remembered to say one last thing. “And please, for the love of God, don’t you ever wear anything like that again in a school if you don’t wanna get arrested. You’re gonna scare the kids.”
He expected Tom to quip back only for silence to meet him. He looked curiously at Tom who was staring at him like a lovesick puppy.
“Hot,” Tom breathed. “You saying ‘the kids,’ you know. Like we have kids together and I’m the husband irritating the wife—and by wife, meaning you, of course. I’m kinda into that. You want that, Ry? I mean, I don’t even know why I’m asking. Your face is telling me all about what you think about that—”
Ryland slammed the door on his face. If he heard any more, he was going to self-combust.
A loud clap sounded over the classroom. “Okay! So! Sorry about that! That was, uhm—that was, uh…” Shoot, how was he losing his speech already?!
“You’re turning red,” Olivia’s concerned observation floated through his distracted mind.
Ryland lets out a nervous laugh, cupping a hand over his cheeks. “It’s just, uh. Hot. It’s kinda hot in here, don't you think?” He gulped at the clueless looks he received. “That was someone’s parent looking for their child’s classroom. Yeah…” He drifted off, lost in thought.
Screw Ryder for bringing up all that stuff about husband and wife and kids.
“Uhm, Mr. Grace? He’s still there.” He heard Rekha say.
Ryland snapped out of it. He whirled around to see Tom still outside the window.
Realizing he finally had his attention, Tom knocked on the glass, and with a slightly muffled voice but still loud enough for the whole class to hear, he yelled, “See you later, babe! Take care of the kids, alright?!”
Oh, Ryland was so screwed.
One thing you should never ever do as a teacher was give your students even a hint about your private life because they will take that tiny little piece and run with it like their life depended on it.
The teasing ‘Oooohs’ were already starting. A jumbled mess of ‘Who was that?’ ‘You have a boyfriend?!’ ‘My mom will be so disappointed to hear this,’ and ‘Tell us!’
Soon, they were chanting, “Tell us, tell us, tell us,” their fists thumping on the table.
He raised both hands. “Guys, guys! C’mon! It’s not that interesting!” The protests got louder. He looked at his watch. “Woah, look at the time! Class is over!”
“That's cheating!” one of them yelled. “You always go overtime!”
“Can't do anything about that. Sorry,” he shrugged, though his lip twitched in a cheeky grin.
He started ushering them out of his room, ignoring their many grumbles.
There were some last-minute queries about the lesson and some about his mystery man—which, first of all, was not ‘his’ anything, and second of all, was not related to the surprise quiz he had decided right then and there that he was going to give them tomorrow.
As soon as the last student was out of the room, he shut the door and leaned against it. He took a deep breath and rubbed his face, lifting the glasses from his nose.
When Colt started working as a stunt double for Tom, Ryland wasn’t working at Grover Cleveland yet. He hadn't even been to San Francisco at the time.
Instead, he had hauled his miserable self to LA after that trainwreck of a conference ruined his career, rooming with Colt who kept coming home with a rant about this actor he was doubling for.
But Colt didn’t seem to have a problem with the guy when they were watching the test screening for No Soul Left. Despite Colt’s many criticisms, one thing he couldn’t disparage was Tom’s acting prowess. He’d force out through gritted teeth, “God, he’s so good,” like it physically pained him to admit.
But even with all the insider knowledge from Ryder’s number one stuntman, Ryland couldn’t help but be starstruck when the man himself showed up at the test screening.
You certainly don’t meet actors every day, even if your brother works in Hollywood. Being a teacher was already exhausting; he didn’t have time to join Colt’s wrap parties.
Still, the universe somehow found a way for Ryland and Tom to meet again.
As his hand fell away from his face, he found himself staring straight at the empty ceiling in the middle of the room.
He needed a new model of the solar system. This was not the time to be thinking about Tom Ryder.
⸻
The news of his supposed boyfriend spread quickly.
By the time his next class rolled around, the kids had already scrutinized his relationships with the other teachers like little detectives. Surely, his love life couldn't be that interesting!
“No, I am not dating Morris, though I’ll be sure to tell him you said that,” he said.
For some reason, the kids were comfortable enough to tell him their grievances about other teachers, forgetting that he, too, was a teacher. He never told on them, though.
Horrified, the kids cried, “What! No!”
“You called him Morris!” Another pointed out, seizing the chance to have their own Gotcha! moment.
Ryland threw his hands up. “We’re co-workers—I’m not calling him mister!”
The questions only stopped after he threatened them with another quiz.
After that class, he retreated to the teachers’ lounge like a turtle hiding its head in its shell.
Some teasing comments came and went as his co-workers passed by to make some coffee in the kitchen. Every jab made the memory of Ryder’s words resurface in his head. The effect of it was clear on his face, which invited even more unwanted theories.
He decided to seclude himself away from the door to avoid giving people any reminders, choosing to focus on his work instead. As an hour passed, the lounge was finally deserted, save for a few occupants.
Christina was scrolling on her phone, sipping absent-mindedly at her iced coffee. Lorren came in for a power nap but was unwillingly awake the whole time, staring listlessly at the ceiling.
Ryland could relate. His eyelids were starting to droop. He was fighting for his life to finish the last section of his lesson plans.
“Another one?” Christina muttered to herself. “Who would believe that?”
His fingers moved sluggishly across the keyboard. “I know. ‘S the new policy, isn't it?” Ryland guessed. “I saw that earlier.”
Christina furrowed her brows. “No. Tom Ryder has a new fling.”
Ryland blinked into consciousness. He sat up a little straighter “Iggy Starr?”
Christina finally looked up from her phone, surprise written on her face. “I didn't know you were interested in celebs.”
“I’m not.” If he wasn't awake before, he was now. Thinking up creative hands-on activities about biodiversity suddenly seemed so invigorating.
Lorren turned around from her lying position on the couch to face them. “I thought he was still with Iggy?” Her voice was a bit sluggish from the lack of sleep.
Ryland's mouth moved before his brain could. “It’s not Iggy? Who’s the new fling?” God, he really needed to shut up.
Christina winced. “Sorry, I’ve already scrolled past the post. You can look it up yourselves, though. If you ask me, I never believed it.”
Lorren gasped. “What? Iggy and Tom? Are you serious? They were the couple of the year!”
“Yes. On the red carpet. On interviews. We’ve never seen them together once outside of work-related things,” she said. “It’s PR, but that’s just my take on it.”
“Plenty of celebrity couples are private!”
“Maybe,” Christina replied.
Lorren continued her defense of Iggy Star and Tom Ryder's relationship, spanning from when they first announced their relationship up to the filming of Metalstorm.
Christina listened for a while until her gaze fell on Ryland who seemed lost in thought.
Christina’s brows furrowed. “Grace, you okay? You look a bit out of it. I think there’s still some aspirin in the medicine box.”
“Hm?” Ryland turned to her, but his eyes were still pinned on somewhere else. He had no idea where.
He was just… thinking. A lot.
He denied ever looking up that article that night.
Besides the ‘new fling’ who turned out to be a blurry photo of Tom’s assistant, Alma, it was all just sensationalist crap—nothing he didn’t already know.
As far as the world knew, Tom Ryder was still in a relationship with Iggy Star. Ryland heaved a huge sigh and got ready for bed.