Chapter Text
Ryland Grace was not a person who belonged on a movie set.
And yet, he found himself there, watching his brother perform stunts, with a white-knuckled grip on his empty coffee cup. His stomach would drop every time Colt did, and Grace would really rather be anywhere but here. Even watching on a screen made Grace's heart stutter an uncomfortable tempo knowing that his baby brother was the one being tossed around like laundry in the dryer.
It wasn't that he wanted his brother to quit his job - Colt loved what he did, and Grace wouldn't take that away from him!
It was just that he would prefer to not have to be around when Colt had to jump from buildings or roll in a car or get punched in the face.
Grace wiped his sweaty palms on his cardigan. Colt was leaning outside of the car he was about to roll in, speaking to someone. A director? Producer? Grace wasn't exactly sure what title they had, but they were gesturing with their hands, and Colt nodded along.
Grace sighed and slumped back in Colt's chair. At least he could try to get some work done to distract himself from what was coming.
He pulled a stack of papers from his backpack and clipped them to his clipboard. The kids were just starting their science projects for the year, and he tried to make sure they had suitably different projects. He learned his lesson one year when 5 students did the exact same volcano.
“Hey, sweetheart!”
Now he was dealing with 3 students who all wanted to do the same potato lightbulb.
“Hello?”
It was a shame. He really liked the humble spudbulb. But it would be unfair to let one student keep the experiment and make the other two change.
“Is he deaf?”
It was about the chemical reaction causing electricity, so maybe —
There was suddenly a body leaning over his shoulder. Grace jumped in his seat, nearly falling right out of it when the stranger clapped a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“What's so interesting that you're ignoring me?” The stranger leaned further over into Grace's personal space to peer at the papers in his lap.
He had curly hair with bleached tips and big sunglasses that he was now glancing over. Was he wearing eyeliner or were his eyes just… like that?
“Oh, sorry.” Grace clutched at his student's worksheets. “You were talking to me?”
“Mhm.” The man shifted his attention to Grace's face. “Man. You really do look like Colt.” He plucked Grace's glasses off of his face with the hand not currently pinning Grace to his chair. “Totally different energies, though.”
“Excuse me.” Grace shook himself free from the stranger's grip and snatched his glasses back. “Has anyone told you about personal space?”
The man laughed. “You sure are something, sweetheart.”
Grace's nose crinkled in undisguised disgust. Who was this guy?
“What the heck is your problem?”
“His problem is that he's a creep.” Oh thank goodness Colt was back.
Grace glanced towards his brother, and the stranger took the moment to swing his arm back around Grace's shoulders, ignoring his flinch.
“Fall guy! I was just meeting your lovely brother here. You've been hiding him, haven't you, you sly dog!” The man shook Grace by the shoulders.
“I haven't been hiding him you buffoon. You just don't notice anything beyond your mirror.” Colt pulled Grace free and stepped in front of his brother.
“Who even is this?” Grace whispered, though evidently not softly enough, because both Colt's and the stranger's head whipped to stare at him.
The man's incredulousness turned to a grin, and he waggled a finger with a chuckle. “Now Colt, that is a good one, but telling your brother to act like he doesn't know who I am is very childish.”
Colt laughed too. “Ry, seriously? You've seen my movies.”
“What? What do you mean?” Sure, he usually watched Colt's movies through his fingers and closed his eyes at any impacts, but what did that have to do with anything? A vague sense of dread washed over him
“Actually, they're more my movies. But I get it. Acting like you don't know the biggest celebrity on the planet is, like, super funny, but you can stop now.” The man (a celebrity?) was now on the verge of scowling. Gosh, was his ego that big?
Colt was grinning in a way that, frankly, looked painful. When he met Grace's eye, he shrugged in that infuriating way that meant Grace was on his own.
“Look, sir, I am very sorry but I don't really follow movies or anything like that. So I really don't know who you are.”
The stranger looked from Colt to Grace, and Colt simply gave him the same shrug he gave Grace. “I'm Tom Ryder, man!”
“Oh.” Now that he was really looking at him, Ryder was wearing the same outfit Colt was. “Um. Sorry. I don't really…” Grace averted his eyes and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I'm bad with faces.”
Colt burst out laughing, leaning over to brace himself on his knees. Ryder's lips were a thin line. “So, um, the bathroom is this way, yeah?” Grace picked a random direction away from the set and he did not run, thank you very much. He just walked as quickly as he possibly could away from the radioactive fallout of his blunder.
He tucked his head down and attempted to make sense of what just happened.
He had just snubbed national sensation Tom mother-fudging Ryder. He had heard enough horror stories from Colt to know that that man held a grudge. Tom Ryder was a rich movie star, and Grace was a middle school teacher just scraping by. He was so fudging fudged. “Oh gosh, oh gosh.” Grace mumbled under his breath.
He should have paid more attention. It was so obvious, they were literally wearing the same clothes. Grace had seen him in movies! He moved to run his fingers through his hair, but was stopped by the papers he was still clutching. It interrupted his tailspin.
He was a nobody.
Correction: he was Colt Seavers’ brother. And Ryder already hated Colt, so there was no real danger of anything changing there.
Ryland Grace was a nobody, and that meant Tom Ryder had no reason to remember his face other than the fact it matched Colt Seavers’.
Grace took a deep breath in and out. He should go find somewhere private to wait for Colt and work on his potato problem.
Tom Ryder had probably already forgotten him.