Chapter Text
The thing was, Ryland had never really stopped thinking about Simon after that one glorious summer. They'd hung out every day for three months, and then Ryland's family had to move to a whole different state for his dad's work, and he'd never been able to go back.
It was pathetic, the way a kid he met at the park when he was thirteen was maybe the only friend he'd ever actually had. Hell, it wasn't until he met Rocky—who didn't really count as a friend given he was so much more—in his senior year of undergrad that he had anything close to another. He just… wasn't made for people. That was even clearer now.
He tapped his fingers on his phone absently, thinking about reinstalling all the social media apps to see if his outburst had blown over already. To see what people were saying about him. Colt would be so mad if he did. But what would the harm be? It had been over a month; surely people were bored of him by now.
People were not bored of him by now. They were making TikTok edits instead of letting it the fuck go.
Court would be so disappointed in him if he could see him now. Ryland pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes hard, trying to convince himself that he wasn't going to start crying again. It was humiliating to be this upset over his entire life blowing up when it had been his own fault it happened. It was one thing when he could point at someone and say you, you are the reason my life is gone and I hate you. It was different when the only person he had to point to was himself.
There was a knock at his apartment door, which he ignored in favor of pressing a pillow over his face until he could barely breathe. It felt good in a fucked up way. He wondered if you could pay someone to kill yourself, or if it had to be someone else. Suicide by assassin sounded like a great idea.
The knock came again, louder, loud enough he could hear it through the pillow. Ryland groaned into it. Whoever it was would give up soon. Everyone did. He just needed to wait out the noise and then he could go back to endlessly scrolling through people hating him. People finding him pathetic. People being glad he was being exiled from academia.
"Ry, I know you're fucking in there," Colt called through the door. "Answer the door. I forgot my key."
Ryland did not have the energy to deal with Colt today. Colt would want him to shower, to eat real food, to be a person again. And Ryland just did. Not. Have. The. Energy. He wanted to scroll his social media feeds and wallow in how everyone had discovered what a horrible person he was underneath it all. He'd never suffered from impostor syndrome, but he was starting to think maybe it would have done him some good.
"Come on, Ry," Colt said, wheedling. "I brought you a surprise. I'm gonna break the door down if you don't answer. You know I can."
Ryland sighed. Colt's surprises could be anything from takeout he picked up on the way over to a whole stray dog that followed him all the way to Ryland's apartment. This had better not be another dog situation.
"You better not have brought me another dog," he called out, letting the pillow drop to the floor and sitting up in his bed.
His apartment was a mess, but Colt wouldn't care. Not about the dishes that had been growing mold in the sink for a month or the empty ramen cups littering every flat surface. Or his dirty clothes on the floor and the destroyed laptop he hadn't bothered to get fixed. Not any of it.
"Better than a dog," Colt said, sounding way too smug for any situation that was occurring.
"That wouldn't be hard," Ryland muttered as he picked his way across the apartment and to the front door, pausing to grab a shirt off the floor and pull it on.
It was one of his science pun shirts, with a ball at the bottom of a ramp and the text, "I had Potential." It was an apt shirt to be wearing. He forewent a hoodie since it was just Colt out there. He sighed, standing in front of the door, let his forehead thunk against it. One last try to get rid of Colt.
"Can you just go? I can't do this today."
"Nope," Colt chirped sunnily and Ryland hated him, just a little bit. "Open the door."
He opened the door.