Love Me, That's All I Ask of You (2/?)
Hannibal
Ryan stood in front of the giant stage, in front of the packed theater, singing his heart out. It was the finale of the night’s play Hannibal, and he had to leave the crowd speechless with this last piece. He was pretty confidant of his abilities. After all, he had a magnificent teacher, but he needed to wow the crowd. Have them eating out of the palm of his hand. The reactions that Ryan had received after his audition earlier that day had renewed his self-esteem. His singing had brought everyone in the room to tears; it had been a unanimous decision to cast Ryan as the lead in Hannibal. Ryan wasn’t about to let anyone down, so he had vowed to do his best on stage from the moment the dark-red curtain rose to the last second before it fell down. All that hard work and determination was what led to the thunderous applause outside the heavy velvet partition.
Ryan was breathing hard, almost panting, but he was smiling. Everything had gone perfect, and he had seen Jon staring right at him from the second story balcony. All the other actors and dancers were already walking off the stage, getting ready to go home, but Ryan was still loitering around the dark stage. He had done it. He was now, officially, a superstar. He’d accomplished his dream. Nothing else mattered. Ryan was still wandering the stage like an apparition when Jon sauntered next to him.
“Your mother once spoke of an angel; it was to be your angel. I wonder if I have one, and if that one is you,” Jon whispered silkily into Ryan’s ear.
“Jon?”
“Oh, it is you, Ryan. It’s been so long since we saw each other last.” Ryan turned to examine Jon, surprised by how much he’d aged and how he really hadn’t aged at all. His sandy, wood-colored hair was much longer now, and it cascaded down to his shoulders, curling at the ends. His jaw was now more defined, though he was still clean-shaven, and he was more muscular than he had been before. The only thing that hadn’t changed was his eyes. They were still the same color; that gorgeous chestnut color, and, to Ryan’s surprise, the mischievous glint was still there after all these years. Ryan doubted that it would ever leave.
“I believe that the last time we saw each other I was sixteen and you were nineteen and ready to see the world.” Ryan couldn’t help how the bitter edge that tinted the words, making them sound angry; he was still hurt over Jon choosing to travel abroad instead of staying with him.
“That was over three years ago Ryan. I thought you wanted me to be happy.” Ryan refused to fall into the guilt trap. It had worked when he was sixteen, but that was the last time it had. Now, three years older, a confident nineteen, it wouldn’t work.
“I’m not falling for that anymore Jon, I honestly thought that you had changed, but I guess I was wrong.” If Jon wanted to pull his cards out, then Ryan was going to pull out his deck too. He was ready for war, and he’d come out victorious this time.
“I have changed Ryan, that’s why I want another chance. I missed you, and I want to spend more time with you. Can you please meet me outside, near the crystal fountain, in fifteen minutes?” Ryan was torn, some part of him wanted to say yes, the part that had been in love, however fleetingly, with Jon, but another part knew that Jon wasn’t very stable. Sure he was rich, but very flighty. He was always after a new toy, whether it be a new boy or girl, a new horse and carriage or a new theater. That part of Ryan, the hurt, angry, bitter, and disillusioned Ryan, didn’t want to end up hurt again. Sadly, the pros (Jon was now a huge contributor to the opera, and being on his good side was a plus) outweighed the cons, (He would definitely leave again, and it would be worse this time), and Ryan, albeit a bit cautiously, agreed to be outside in twenty minutes. So, Ryan headed to his small, dressing room. Little did Ryan know, he was watching. His harsh scowl an obvious sign that he wasn’t very happy about Ryan meeting Jon outside. If only Ryan had known that he had other plans.
“Father once spoke of an angel
I used to dream he'd appear
Now as I sing, I can sense him
And I know he's here
Here in this room he calls me softly
Somewhere inside hiding
Somehow I know he's always with me
He, the unseen genius
Angel of Music
Guide and guardian
Grant to me your glory”
“Angel of Music”