fic: LSF
Title: LSF
Rating: Pg13ish
A/N: again, this was something I started a long time ago and I just found yesterday. I liked it back then and I'm still fond of it now, so I've decided to post it. Hopefully this won't end up as long as my experimental weirdness.
A/N 2: this is so very AU, and I hope it's not overly confusing. I know I ramble sometimes and things make sense to me, but not other people.
A/N 3: I have totally and completely rediscovered Kasabian and I'm in absolute love with them again thanks to this fic. I was inspired by and titled it after their song (LSF, short for Lost Souls Forever).
Enjoy
“So have you thought any more about UC Los Angeles?”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably, making eye contact with the wall instead of his counselor.
He shrugged, and the woman sighed, reminding him once more that his stay at Barstow Community College would be ending soon. He shrugged again. It’s not like he didn’t know he had to make a decision soon, but what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t afford a four year college.
Was he supposed to go to Trey and say hey, can you give me some more money? You know, the money you work every day for, sweating over cars while I sit in air conditioned classrooms?
Trey thought school and college was stupid and he knew Trey wanted him to stay in the shop and work with him.
Trey loved him.
Trey wanted him to stay in Chino.
So how was his supposed to tell his big brother that he wanted to up and leave for Los Angeles?
…
He made his way to his car, smiling at the beaten up ’69 Chevelle.
It had taken Trey and ‘Turo months to get the thing in working condition. It was the first thing that had ever been his.
Not his, Trey’s, and mom’s.
Not his and Trey’s.
Just his.
The cracked leather seats, the worn steering wheel, the chipped dark blue paint. There was a satisfying creak as he got in, the sound familiar and comforting. More comforting than the box of shit sitting in the passenger’s seat, but he didn’t want to think about that right now.
The engine roared to life, startling a few students with its loud rumble, and he backed out of the space. Music blared from the stereo system - which didn’t exactly match with the car, but ‘Turo had insisted on updating it - and he let himself get lost in the beats and the rolling scenery as he drove the familiar way.
Except he didn’t go home.
He didn’t go home, and he didn’t go to ‘Turo’s garage. Instead he drove all the way to her place, parking outside the broken down apartment building. There was no doorman, no one to stop him from going right up, and he rode the elevator in silence, staring pointedly at the doors and not at the box at his feet.
There was a chime, and the doors slid open - with minimal groaning - and he stepped out into the familiar hall. He’d spent a lot of time here, with her, and the walk to her door was automatic. But he didn’t knock, he didn’t go in. Instead he dropped the box - filled with clothes, books, CDs, a shoe - in front of her door.
Three years and this was how it ended?
…
Caffeine.
He needed it. Badly. The barista was particularly joyful today; a complete contrast to his own mood.
Three years and that was how it ended? With a box dropped off in front of her door and nothing else?
“Black coffee!” the girl chirped, and he grabbed his cup and hurried out of line. It was his normal: black coffee that he got whenever he came to visit her here in the city.
But he usually went to ‘Turo’s shop right after school, not here, so he’d probably have to explain the nearly two hour gap.
He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, mostly because Trey had warned him for years that she was an annoying whore. He didn’t feel like hearing the I told you so’s start. At least not today.
“Hi.”
He froze in his path to the door, mainly because a girl was standing in front of him with a bright smile.
“Hi.” Ok, so it wasn’t the best greeting ever, but it worked, because her smile got wider.
“Hi, I’m Taylor,” she didn’t extend her hand, instead clutching her drink - some type of iced coffee that probably had too much sugar in it. “I’ve seen you around here before.” He opened his mouth to say something - which probably would have been lame anyway - but she spoke first, looking horrified. “Not that I’ve been watching you or anything, I just noticed that you came here a lot. Because I do, too.” She held up one hand, looking panicked, “not that I’m stalking you, or anything. I don’t come here a lot because you come here a lot, I just come here a lot because I like the coffee, and I’ve noticed you around. I swear I’m not, like, stalking you or anything.” The girl let out an aggravated huff of air before pressing her lips together.
“Yeah,” he watched her pick at the lid of her cup nervously. She was hot and he’d be interested if he hadn’t just dropped off a box of his ex-girlfriend’s shit on her doorstep ten minutes ago. “It was nice meeting you.”
He stepped around her and started for the door again.
“Wait,” she took a half step toward him, frown forming. “Don’t I get a name or something?”
“Where’s the challenge in stalking me if you have a name?” he asked as he walked out the door, leaving her standing - open mouthed - behind him.
…
It was a long way from her apartment to home, and Trey always called him a bitch for driving it.
But she’d moved to Los Angeles last summer to model and he still lived in Chino, and god help him, he loved her, so he drove the forty minutes to get there.
He’d put a shitload of mileage on his car, but that was over, now.
She’d been fucking her agent while he was sitting in class, bettering his future so he could support her.
But she didn’t care that he was in community college for her, she just cared about being a model, and her future acting career. She hadn’t ranted about it this much in high school, but ever since they’d graduated, it had grown into a full blown obsession. Then she moved to LA without him and now she was fucking her agent.
At least he wouldn’t have to drive this much anymore. His engine could use the break.
…
Ryan sighed, leaning against the counter and trying not to die of heatstroke. He lifted the glass of tepid water to his lips, which did almost nothing to cool him off, and watched as Arturo opened the hood of a beat up Chevy.
Trey leaned next to ‘Turo against the car’s bumper, laughing about something, and the larger man grinned, leaning down to prod at the engine.
“What’s wrong Atwood?” Eddie called loudly, walking out of the back room and toward the other two men, who looked up at him. “College boy’s too good to hang around cars now?” They all laughed, and Ryan smiled and shook his head, not moving from his spot behind the counter.
It was a recurring joke and it never seemed to occur to them that it was dead and buried after nearly two years.
“Nah,” he called back, “it’s too hot to work on cars today.”
Especially now that his life didn’t depend on it, his treacherous mind whispered.
After his little stint in Juvie almost four years ago, jacking that car with Trey, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t get in trouble anymore. Well, that hadn’t exactly worked out - he was an Atwood, trouble was in his blood - but he’d kept out of major trouble.
And now here he was, going to the local community college, where his advisor told him - with a smile - that he could very likely get into any four year college he wanted, with his grades.
Not that he was planning on going too far, just in case Trey might need him. But the thought of college was thrilling. He was thinking UCLA, and his college advisor - that wonderful woman, he wanted to hug her - had pointed out slyly that they had a nice architecture program. That part thrilled him too. He’d worked construction for about five years now - mostly during the summer, because after his arrest, he’d thrown himself into school.
But he didn’t want to tell Trey any of this, at least not yet.
He wasn’t sure his brother - or his other friends - would understand. They wouldn’t understand why he wanted to go to college and get a degree instead of working at the auto repair shop with them. They wouldn’t understand that he wanted more out of life than working every day in this place, on this desert highway that got just enough business to stay afloat.
They already made fun of him enough, and this was just community college.
Although maybe Trey would understand.
Trey had gotten two years in jail for grand theft auto and possession of a concealed weapon. Ryan had gotten a fine and probation and the equally terrible fate of being sent home to his mother, who decided to bolt a month later, after AJ left her.
The Diaz’s had taken him in - Arturo looking out for him out of respect for Trey. He’d lived with them for the next two years until Trey got out. When he came home, they moved back into their old house. Trey was over eighteen and the day he got out, he petitioned to be Ryan’s legal guardian.
He still wasn’t sure how Trey managed that one, what with being an ex-con, but whatever.
Trey always looked out for him. He’d turned his life around after jail, saying that he had to make sure Ryan kept on the straight and narrow.
And Trey had bought him a car for graduation. Ok, maybe not bought. More like found on the side of the road with a ‘for free’ sign, and he, ‘Turo, and Eddie fixed it up for him, because he was the first one of them to graduate high school. Trey had been so proud. And even now, Ryan could tell Trey was proud of him, he just didn’t show it well in front of the others, because it wasn’t ‘cool’.
A loud burst of laughter erupted from the three gathered around the car, and he smiled, shaking his head at them. He really should get back to his homework.
He did this everyday - got out of school and drove here, doing his homework while they worked on cars. It was a little far, on I-15, but he liked having somewhere to go, to feel like he belonged.
Plus, you got to meet some pretty interesting people at a repair shop on the interstate.
“Hey man,” Trey walked up to the counter, going behind it and hitting random keys on the register absentmindedly. “How was school?”
Ok, so his brother wasn’t the most subtle guy ever, but Ryan suppressed his smile.
“It was fine.”
Trey glanced up at him, looking bland.
“Fine? I’m paying good money for fine?”
Ryan sighed, leaning against the counter. “Well, if you want, I could go into detail…” He tried to duck as his brother’s hand made contact with the side of his head.
“Don’t be a smartass. What’s all this?” He picked up the folder of information - college information - and opened it. Ryan snatched it back, closing it and shoving it back into his bag.
“Nothing. Just math stuff.”
Trey hated math.
Actually, Trey hated school, so Ryan knew he was safe. Sure enough, his brother shrugged and went back to working on the Chevy - whose owner was sitting on one of the chairs tapping his foot impatiently.
…
“Mac and cheese?” Trey frowned as Ryan dropped the bowl in front of him.
“It was either that or Spaghettios, and we had that last night,” Ryan reminded him, sitting on the couch.
Trey worked until six every day, so Ryan usually made dinner for them both, which would then be eaten in front of the TV.
“So where were you today?” Trey asked through a mouthful of noodles, eyes glued to Wheel of Fortune.
They didn’t get cable.
“What?” Ryan asked, feigning innocence, even though he knew exactly what Trey was talking about.
“You were like, an hour and a half later than normal. Your classes get out at noon.”
He’d forgotten how much attention Trey paid to his schedule.
Pre-jail Trey hadn’t given a fuck where he was, what he was doing, or who he was with.
Post-jail Trey monitored him like a hawk, making sure his little brother didn’t end up in jail like he had.
“I went to LA,” Ryan said, hoping Trey would drop it.
“Fuck it, LB,” Trey grunted, dropping his fork into his bowl and putting it on the coffee table. “You caught her fucking some other guy, why the hell are you still seeing her?”
“I’m not still seeing her,” Ryan said. “I went to drop off her stuff. I told you, I’m done with her.”
“Good,” Trey nodded. “That bitch had you by the balls, man.”
Ryan hoped that was as much I told you so as Trey would give him.
“It’s Mount Rushmore, dick,” Trey yelled at the TV, rolling his eyes.
Looked like he was over it, so Ryan dropped it, too.