Chapter II

                                    

                                          
Ryan awoke the next day surprisingly rested. For once he couldn't remember any nightmares having plagued him in the night, and when he glanced at the window he could see it was almost sunset. He stifled a yawn and crawled out of bed, deciding he felt like having poptarts for breakfast. 
                          
After starting the toaster to heat them up, he ran up the stairs to the street and snagged a newspaper from the vending machine by his building. It had been broken for a while now, so if you jiggled it just right, it would open without you having to pay for it. He folded it under his arm and went back inside just as the toaster popped. He pulled them out, feeling the hot pastry burn his finger tips before he could drop it on the counter. He put his index finger in his mouth to extinguish the burn as he spread the newspaper out with his other hand. 
                          
It was a rather small newspaper for New York standards, probably low budget since they rarely printed photographs. The headline was some pun about the homeless rates spiking, which Ryan sneered at before turning the page. He briefly skimmed the article about the concert he was going to, not taking in much more than the knowledge that one of the headlining bands had been seen fighting with each other in a Denny's. It said they would still be performing, so he didn't really care. 
                          
He flipped to the back and started in on the crossword puzzle. He hadn't done one in a while because he always got frustrated with the amount of clues there were about the bible. He had read the thing because so many literary works referenced it, and he wanted to get all of the allusions, but he hardly cared enough to remember who was the son of whom, or what the punishment for adultery was meant to be. He struggled through a few clues that ended up contradicting each other, not knowing which ones were wrong, before giving up and throwing it in the trash. 
                          
Ryan figured the special occasion warranted a shower, so he quickly did that before throwing on some old clothes he didn't care about, and running out the door. 
                          
He had calculated that he would have just enough left over from the price of admission to stop at the thrift store and get a new outfit. He walked into the building a couple blocks down from his place, having to stop himself from wandering over to the book section. Even at two dollars a book, he knew he couldn't justify another indulgent purchase. He sighed to himself and started scanning the rack of jeans. It was easy for him to pick out the few pairs that stood a chance at being long enough, so he gathered those in his arms and moved onto the shirts. The pickings were slim, but one shirt stood out from the rest as being intentionally worn looking. While all the others seemed to have been bought in the 80s and lived in the backs of closets until their owners died or finally donated them, this one was clearly a new shirt made to look vintage. He squinted at the band logo emblazoned on it, as he felt a vague recognition that it was one of the bands that was playing tonight. He figured that was too great a coincidence to pass up, and hefted it on top of the arm full of jeans he was starting to struggle under the weight of. Considering the most physical exertion he got in a day was going up the nine stairs in his apartment, he felt like his muscles were on fire holding the pants. 
                          
He waited for a few seconds at the dressing rooms, looking for an employee to let him into one, but when a door opened and the person who had been using the stall left, he quickly took that one and closed the door behind himself. He dropped all of the clothes in a heap on the floor, and pulled the tshirt on with a random pair of jeans. They were an alright length, but not nearly tight enough for his liking. All the pairs he already owned hung off his hips, since he definitely had not been eating enough. He really wanted to take this opportunity to find a pair that would stick to him like a second skin. This intention was in no way related to the fact that he hadn't had sex in multiple months. No, that was purely coincidence.
                          
On the third pair he tried, he managed to get them most of the way up his thighs before the struggle began, and he had to hop back and forth between his feet to pull them up. By the time he was sucking in to do up the zipper, he knew they were the ones. He slipped his feet back into his shoes, regretting that he couldn't replace them too, and grabbed his old clothes off of the hook. He paid at the front counter, getting a weird look from the cashier for all the crumpled up bills he pulled out of his wallet. She looked like she was holding back a laugh, and Ryan's face blushed as he realised what she was thinking he did to make the money. He mumbled a thank you to her, and threw his old clothes in the garbage on his way out, probably not helping her opinion about his job. 
                          
Ryan started walking in the direction of the venue, and made it a few blocks before deciding to ask someone for the time. There were two guys standing outside of an expensive hotel building, sharing a cigarette between them. "Hey, sorry to bother you, but do you have the time?"
                          
The shorter man smiled at him before passing the cigarette back and checking his watch. "It's quarter to nine." His eyes seemed to glisten in the streetlights, and Ryan was inexplicably reminded of the man he'd met the previous night. He didn't realise he'd been staring until the taller guy cleared his throat and wrapped his arm around the guy's waist, pulling him up against his side. He glared at Ryan in a clearly aggressive way. "Did you want a smoke?" The shorter man addressed him again, still smiling even though his partner was being defensive. The guy with his arm around him made a displeased grunting noise.
                          
"Actually that would be great. Thank you." Ryan accepted the cigarette and put it between his lips, only hesitating for a few moments when he realised the aggressive one was going to light it for him. He cupped his hand around the flame, careful not to actually touch the guy's hand and make him more angry. He took a long drag, making sure it had fully ignited before thanking them again, and continuing to walk towards the concert.
                          
He couldn't help himself from glancing back at the couple once before he turned the corner. The taller man was still frowning at the other, but when they kissed, his face softened the smallest amount. Ryan caught himself grinning at the odd pair. 
                          
The line outside of the venue made him stop in his tracks. Not only did it wrap around the whole building, it seemed to be made up almost exclusively of teenagers. There were a few people that looked closer to his age, and a couple parents accompanying their children and looking less than pleased about it. Ryan watched his hopes of getting laid die before his eyes, and made his way to the back of the line with a slight pout on his face. 
                          
The three girls that he was standing behind were talking excitedly about one of the bands. "Which guy's your favourite?" One of the girls asked the other. The third was standing a few feet away vaping and barely following the conversation.
                          
"I think the drummer. He's just so cute." The girl who asked the question got a really condescending look on her face that made Ryan immediately hate her.
                          
"You mean Spencer? Oh my god, do you not know their names?" She laughed at the girl, who just turned a deep shade of red and stared at her feet. Ryan had scoffed loudly before he even realised he was doing it. The girl whirled on him, looking ready to attack. She noted his shirt, took a look at his face, and immediately her expression turned to what you would call bedroom eyes. "Now, I bet you know all about them. You're probably a true fan like me." She placed her hand on his arm and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Who's your favourite member of The Flying Rabbits?" 
                          
Ryan tried to look down at his shirt as inconspicuously as possible, checking that he was indeed wearing the merch for that band. What a stupid name. He had a brief internal debate of whether to just say the drummer's name, since it was now the only one he knew, but he felt a need to stand up for the girl who had been called out for not knowing. "Knowing about the members is irrelevant to the music." He said coldly and he pulled his arm out of her grasp. The other girl smiled at him gratefully. He winked at her, immediately feeling mortified that he'd felt cool enough to do that. The girl who had grabbed his arm made a whimpering noise and stalked over to where the third girl was smoking.
                          
The girl he'd stuck up for stepped closer. "Thank you for that." She whispered, eyeing her friends to make sure they weren't listening. 
                          
"Truth be told, I don't know any of the bands that are playing. I got this shirt at a thrift store twenty minutes ago." He whispered back. She burst into a fit of giggles, and the other girls glared at her. Just then, the line started moving, and Ryan gratefully stopped paying attention to the girls and shuffled with the rest of the line into the building.