ryden + text posts
ryden + text posts
Summary: Ryan, a french introvert, has been chosen to study at the Institute of Litterature Studies in New York.
- Chapter 1 (PG-13) -
“Fais bien attention à toi mon chéri, d’accord?”
“Oui, maman.” I mumble as my mom kisses my forehead just like she always do when she knows she’s not going to see me for a while. I hug her briefly before boarding, I turn around to look at her one more time and see her waving at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. I feel bad for leaving her, I could have chosen to go to any school here in France, but no I decided to go study on the other side of the world. I sigh as I sit down next to what looks like a business man, he looks at me from head to toe then shakes his head, in disbelief or disapproval I’m not sure. I’m not wearing a thousand dollars worth suit like him but it’s not a reason to look at me that way, he’s not even trying to be subtle in any sort of way. I feel like this flight is going to be longer than I thought. I should have booked a night flight, nine hours is not that long when you’re sleeping, but of course the only affordable flight was a daytime one. I get my notebook out, switching my position so that I can rest my notebook on my thighs comfortably and write without breaking my spine, it earns another disapproval look from the man besides me, a tut to go with it this time. I try my best to ignore him and start to write a few sentences that may or may not be ending in a poem later. I’m going to study litterature in a country that’s not mine, I must be suicidal or masochist, but a few other french students will be studying there too, and I’ve been selected among a hundred or so students. Everything is going to be fine. Mr. Disapproval turns the page of his newspaper abruptly and hits my arm causing me to drop my notebook in the alley.
“Merde.” I mutter bending over to pick up my notebook, only to face feet and no notebook, I look up and see a guy around my age handing it to me. “Merci.” I tell him as I take my notebook from his hands, he nods and sits down next to me. He’s a bit taller than me, definitely not as skinny as me, but who is anyway? His hair is almost the same color as mine except a bit lighter, he has beautiful blue eyes accentuating the softness of his gaze. I shove my notebook back in my bag and take my laptop out instead, Mr. Disapproval shakes his head slowly, I sigh, he looks like those dogs some people have at the back of their cars, head constantly moving at anything. An hostess passes by and stops to remind me internet connexions aren’t allowed for the smooth progress of the flight, I nod and explain I only want to watch a movie and she leaves, a fake yet professional smile on her face. I put my headphones on when I feel a hand on my shoulder, oh God, can’t I just do one thing without being bothered in the process, I turn to see the hand’s owner and see blue eyed boy looking at me.
“Oui?” I ask and he smiles softly before speaking, turns out he only wanted to know what I was about to watch, I hand him one of the earbuds and we watch Moulin Rouge together, I’ve seen it at least a dozen of times but it’s the only movie I have in my computer. I hum a few of the songs and hear a tut coming from my left, I ignore it and keep watching the movie quietly.
“Au fait, je m’appelle Ryan.” I tell blue-eyed-boy trying to act as casual as I can with a complete stranger, which is, on a scale from 0 to 10, approximatively at 4. After watching Moulin Rouge, we listened to a few albums I had in my computer, apparently it’s surprising that someone my age listen to Bob Dylan, but he’s a legend, everyone should listen to his music.
“Spencer.” blue-eyed-boy says back as we head out of the airport to take a cab to the Worldwide Institute of Litterature Studies. The ride to the Institute pass in a complete silence apart from the few moments where the driver asks us things about France, showing off his skills in our ‘beautiful language’ like he said. However, like most americans he only knows the basic words, but I don’t point it out to him since he seems proud of himself, everytime he says a word, so I let him be. We soon arrive in front of the biggest building I’ve ever seen, people don’t lie when they say America does everything bigger and better than us. Spencer seems excited to be here, unlike me, I shove my hands in my pockets trying to hide I’m shaking. We decide to go get our timetables and other informations at the school office, the woman behind the desk smiles at us, a warm smile, I have the feeling she’s going to lose this warmth after a few days spent working. Everyone is always happy on first days at school, even teachers, you think they’re the sweetest teachers you’ve ever had, but then a week or two pass and their moods change. Same goes for students, the very first day, nobody has acquaintances, so everyone is polite and nice, then time passes by a bit and you realize they’re far from being as nice as they seemed to be at first. Mrs. Thompson gives a pile of papers to each of us, welcoming us in the school and the country, speaking slowly as if we are too stupid to understand if she would speak properly. There aren’t much students in the corridors, we must be early, taking the daytime flight was maybe not as bad of an idea as I thought it was.
“On devrait monter voir où sont nos chambres.” Spencer says, our rooms, sure, we all have to sleep at school, not that us, non-americans have any sort of choices when it comes to this. I nod and we try to find the stairs for about ten minutes before realizing we were standing right besides them when we got out of the school office. Spencer’s room is the number 89, I drop him there and head for my own telling him which room I got, in case we wouldn’t find each other in the building once everyone has arrived. My room is on the other end of the corridor, room 108, the door is ajar, so I assume my roomate has already arrived. I push the door open and wow, the room is much spacious than I thought it would be, my entire apartment would fit in this room, well maybe not the entirety of it but the most. My roomate is sitting by his desk, back turned to me, he doesn’t notice me and I’m quite thankful for it, I’ve talked too much to strangers today, more than I did in the last month and the day is not even done yet. I drop my bag by the bed and look around taking in my new room, the room is perfectly symmetrical, a bed against the wall on the right of the door, same on the left, a nightstand next to each bed, a desk is facing the right wall, the other one facing the left wall, a closet on each side of the door. I jump when I hear someone clearing their throat, I turn around and see my roomate sitting by his desk, looking at me, his lips curved into a small yet warm smile. His hair is darker than mine, his chocolate brown eyes intensifies his gaze but don’t harden it either, his lips are plump and a light shade of pink, he has broad shoulders and a narrow waist, he’s stunning. He clears his throat again tearing me out of my thoughts, oh God, I was staring wasn’t I? Merde.
“I guess you are the french student I have to take care of.” he says standing up and holding his hand out to me, the student he has to what? “I’m Brendon.” he adds, his smile growing bigger.
“Ryan.” I tell him, shaking his hand, warm and soft skin against mine. “What do you mean by ‘take care of’?” I ask a bit confused.
“Oh, you didn’t read the papers we gave you yet?” I shake my head slowly. “Each room is attributed to an american student and a french student, like this it makes it easier to mix people, and each american student has to keep an eye on their french roomate. The documentation is clearer than me don’t worry, you’ll understand more after you’ll read all of these.” I nod slowly glancing at the papers I put down on my desk a few seconds prior, I sit down and starts to read, I don’t want to feel out of it any longer. “You don’t talk much huh?” I hear Brendon say behind me, “I promise, I won’t bite you, not too hard.” he adds with a wink when I turn around to look at him, I turn my attention back to my papers, feeling my cheeks slightly heating up. The documentation is not much clearer than Brendon and it bothers me, from what I understood, Brendon is supposed to show the school, we’ll always have to work together on the homeworks we’ll be assigned, we basically need to be glued to each other. I’m supposed to be glued to this hottie, je suis dans une merde noire.
“So, please tell me we can leave this room now.” I glance behind me and see Brendon standing arms crossed, still smiling, doesn’t it hurt to smile all the time? But it’s the first day so of course he’s being nice and charming, too charming.
“Sure, where would you like to go?” I ask him, trying my best not to sound as nervous as I am inside ever since I woke up this morning. We’re out of the room, walking down the stairs and I still don’t have an answer, he gives high fives to a few students in the corridors, doing that little nod thing, cool guys do. After what seems like an eternity we stop by a room filled with half of the students, some are playing table football, some are sprawled on the couch, a few others are standing in a corner talking and laughing.
“This is what we call the rest room, you come here to chill between classes or when you have a free period. It’s pretty much the only room you need to know for the moment, you have time to see class rooms on Monday when classes start.” Brendon explains as we start walking toward the guys talking in the corner of the room, I notice Spencer is with them, talking animatedly to the dark haired guy I’ve seen when I dropped him by his room earlier. At least one of us is at ease when it comes to talk to complete strangers.
“Guys, this is my roomate Ryan the quiet,” I glance at Brendon not really pleased by the little nickname he found me already, but it’s not a lie so I can’t complain. “Ryan, here’s my crew, Gabe, Josh and Jon, and of course their own roomates.” I wave awkwardly at the guys and they all smile at me, Spencer smiling wider than all the other reunited.
“So, what do you think of our beautiful country so far?” Gabe, I think, asks me.
“Well, I’ve seen the airport, a cab and a part of the Institute, so far.”
“Right,” he chuckles and adds, “and people, we are known to be welcoming and charming.”
“Besides people thinking they know how to speak french and those talking at a slow pace to make sure the little french student understands everything, people are nice.”
“So it’s true what they say.”
“What?” I raise an eyebrow.
“That frenchies are grumpy.” Gabe laughs, Josh, Jon and Brendon joining him.
“Not all of us!” Spencer retorts, “but we are grumpy when we’re suffering from jetlag and lack of sleep.”
“Once I went in Germany with my family for my grandma’s birthday and I have to admit jetlag is not the most pleasurable thing ever.” Josh says, nodding while he speaks, reminding me of Mr. Disapproval from the flight. After that, they all start talking about traveling, and I soon feel out of place, the only time I’ve been in a plane was today, and the only time I left France was also today. Gabe’s roomate talks just as much as the others but he doesn’t seem much at ease, at least he tries to fit in unlike me, I just stand there, nodding here and there to show I’m listening and I pray not to be asked about anything involving traveling. It’s 11pm when we finally go back into our room, Brendon claimed to be first to shower so I let him go and decide to lay on my bed, it’s quite comfortable but it’s not home and the sheets have a weird smell. After awhile, I unpack my belongings, which is not much, mostly clothes, a laptop, a picture of me and my mom and my notebook. On the other hand, Brendon has a lot of belongings, posters on the wall, a guitar, a little TV, a laptop, a bunch of books, well he didn’t have to pay to bring those things unlike me and I still had to pay a supplement of 80 euros because my laptop made my bag too heavy. Brendon gets out of the bathroom half an hour later, towel wrapped low on his hips, pale skin shinning where he didn’t dry himself correctly.
“Shower’s all yours.” he tells me gesturing toward the door still opened behind him, I nod and get in the bathroom faster than I meant to. Once I locked the door, I lean against it sighing, couldn’t they make someone else my roomate or chaperon or whatever it is instead? God, of course I had to be the one getting the hottest guy of the Institute as a roomate. Frenchies are grumpy I hear Gabe say in my head, no I’m not grumpy, I push my thoughts away and get in the shower. So what Brendon is absolutely gorgeous, it’s not the first time I meet someone gorgeous, I can manage, I know I can, well it’s not like I have any choices anyway but it’s better to do it with confidence right? Oh God and here we go again, I’m rambling as always. Shut up Ryan.
I wake up the next morning hearing Brendon playing the guitar, I open an eye and see him sitting cross-legged on the bed, writing down every few moments. I look at him silently, his lower lip tucked between his teeth a slight frown on his face, he strums another chord and sigh, rubbing his forehead with his palm. I glance at the clock: 2:35am, I should be the one awake, it’s 8am at home, Brendon should be sleeping peacefully by now, I turn around to face the wall, closing my eyes again waiting for sleep to hit me again. The last thing I hear is Brendon sighing before I doze off.
When I wake up again, a few hours later, Brendon is nowhere to be seen, as I turn to see what time it is, I see a post-it on my nightstand. “Stuff to do, be back for breakfast don’t worry.” I sigh and get up. I take a shower and walk around in my boxers for a while, I could do that all the time at home but now I have a roomate, I could still do it but it would be weird. Someone knocks on the door, tearing me out of my thoughts, I put some clothes on and open the door to see Spencer, hair sticking out a bit everywhere on his head.
“Pourquoi on est obligés de se lever si tôt hein?” he tells me voice raspy from sleep. A student passes by and reminds us that no french is allowed, we look at each other then nod slowly.
“Come in.” I tell him, closing the door right after he entered the room.
“So, huh.” he frowns not knowing what to say or how to say it, it’s too fucking early in the morning to speak english.
“Do you know où, uhm, where, we’re supposed to have our breakfast?” does it makes any sense? Well, Spencer’s worse than me in English so it doesn’t matter.
“Uhm, cafeteria? Probably, maybe, surely, uhm.” I sit on my bed and sigh, for a change, he sighs too almost right after and we sit in silence until Brendon chimes in, beaming and full of energy, I can see in Spencer’s gaze that he wonders how the hell Brendon does that, and I wonder too.
“Come on guys, allons-y? That’s how you say it right?” Brendon tells us cheerfully. We nod and follow him to the cafeteria, Spencer was right, we sit down at the table with Brendon’s team and their roomates. I stay silent for most of the time, bon sang it’s 8am, and we’re Sunday, we’re supposed to stay in bed until noon then directly lunch and chilling all the afternoon. I think Jon said, somewhere in the middle of a conversation, that we’re supposed to help the school’s staff for printing and classifying all the papers they will give us tomorrow. We’re maybe 500 students, there are usually around 10 annoying papers on the first day, I’m not good in maths but this is a whole lot of papers to take care of. Merde.
Turns out it’s a bit less tiring than I thought, time passes by pretty fast, Spencer’s cracking a joke in french every ten minutes and all the americans students just stare at us, not understanding a single thing we’re saying. Brendon pulls on a show every time he moves a box, I would like it if he would stop doing it, showing off his ass in his tight jeans, I wonder how he manages to put them on. Why did no one tell me it would be this hard for a gay guy to be here?
“L’hippocampe mais on ne sait jamais dans quel camping.” Spencer says and we all start to laugh even if his joke wasn’t that funny. Gabe stares at Spencer a while then go back to what he was doing. Spencer bends towards me and says “Une femme dit à son mari qui rentre du bar: J’espère que tu as bu avec modération et le mari, bourré, répond: Non, il est pas venu.” I try my best not to laugh, I bet Spencer has one of those books full of jokes somewhere at home or here in his belongings.
“So,” Brendon says, “how’s Paris?”
“Great.” Alex, Josh’s roomate, replies.
“Why do you assume we’re from Paris?” I ask.
“Well, you’re french.”
“What exactly do you think there is outside Paris? A giant desert?”
“Provincials are touchy.” Alex says and I glare at him.
“We’re actually from center east, right next to Switzerland.” Spencer adds.
“Don’t be so butt hurt the Quiet.”
“Va te faire foutre!”
“Wow stop, don’t fight for this, dudes you’re roomates, you have to get along.” Spencer tries to calm me down. Thanks for taking a side Spencer, I appreciate. I leave the copy room and goes directly in my room, fuck them all. Well, okay, maybe I overreacted.. not maybe, I did overreact but I’m tired and at thousands of miles away from home so I’m touchy, but not because I’m a provincial, fucking Alex, he’s so rich I bet he shits gold. It’s not until hours after that Brendon shows up in our room, I expect him to do his own thing but instead, he leans against the door, arms crossed against his chest. I try to avoid his gaze, staring at the book I no longer read instead.
“What’s your problem the quiet?” he asks no longer cheerful.
“I don’t have any problem, I’m tired and homesick already and it makes me touchy, that’s it.”
“Homesick? You’ve been here for less than a day.” he scoffs.
“Je t’emmerde.” I wince at my use of french, it’s almost an instinct, it’s funny how you always come to your first language in moments where you’re nervous or angry, well not much funny, more embarrassing when you suddenly speaks another language.
“It’s not because you say it in french that I don’t understand, we’re all studying each others language here so don’t bullshit me.”
“It came out that way, and if you understand it shouldn’t bother you this much then.” I retort a bit too coldly.
“Okay listen, you don’t like me, that’s fine, really but we have to spend at least a year together so if you could manage to be bearable it would be much appreciated.”
“Me? Managing to be bearable? I’m not the one playing the guitar at two in the morning when normal people want to sleep!” Go on, spill it Ross, nice move.
“Wait, how do you know that?”
“We’re in the same room what did you expect?”
“I didn’t hear you.” he says, his eyes narrowing.
“Excuse me but when I wake up I usually don’t feel the need to announce I’m awake.”
“No need to announce anything, pretending not to be awake is a whole different thing!” he snaps.
“I didn’t pretend anything, I woke up, I saw you, I turned around and fell back asleep, that’s it. Enfin merde Brendon c’est bon.” I snap back.
“Stop fucking speaking in french!”
“Sorry.” I say way more quietly than I planned to.
“I’ll hang out with the guys,” he doesn’t even look at me before walking to the door, “see you tonight, crapaud.” he mutters before leaving the room. Toad? Did he just call me a toad? What the hell is this insult or whatever it was meant to be? Anyway, second day in here and I already managed to make an enemy out of my roomate, good job Ross.
Author’s note: This is my first time writing a Ryden fanfic and I’m excited and nervous about posting it. I hope you’ll like it. The reason why I started writing this is because agetwellcard wanted a fic where Ryan is french. I am, myself, french so I decided to write it, I hope I won’t disappoint you. My beautiful and amazing friend Hope (spencest) did the beta-ing and I thank them for it.
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