#ryan seaman multi chapter story

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Thirteen

Warnings: angst, anxiety, harassment, violence, alcohol

Word Count: 3 340

A/N: Please don’t kill me (yet) (wait until the Octorber 26th, 8pm GMT)

The last concert of tour was about to kick off.

The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement and happiness, and Ryan even smiled at you a couple of times, giving you hope that everything might just turn out fine in the end. Unluckily you did not get the chance to speak to either Ryan or Lars one on one, so by the time the show started, you still had no proof for your theory that it had been Lars who had told Ryan to stay away from you.

The “Three Beats” were playing louder, and harder, and better, and with more force and energy than ever before. While usually the opening bands always had problems igniting excitement in the crowd, tonight it raged through the audience like a wildfire.

The enthusiasm was addicting, and you felt your heart vibrate not only in beat to the drums but also in sync to the band’s heart.

You were high on endorphins, and felt like you could take on the world.

When the band had finished playing, you ran to the merch stand, and sold merch to the excited fans. This night, the hype did not fade during the break; instead it got amplified with every passing minute, making it feel like the air was alive, and the venue vibrating in harmony with the universe.

The “Three Beats” had created an atmosphere you had never experienced before, simply by their relief and happiness to have their singer back, and if you were not mistaken, iDKHOW would only top this.

When they got on stage, the venue was shaking from the shouts and cheers of the crowd. Dallon was unable to keep his cool mask on, and instead beamed like the sun itself when he walked up.

But, unnoticed by most people, because they were solemnly focused on Dallon, Ryan was outshining the bassist by miles. His eyes were all squeezed together, so hard was he smiling, and even though it seemed impossible, it only increased when he spotted you by the side of the stage, snapping picture after picture of him.

You hurried to get the ones done which Lucas had requested, knowing that by now you had taken so many of Dallon, that for this last night it was acceptable to focus on Ryan. It felt like you had taken thousands of pictures of Ryan, his smile never faltering, his goofiness on stage worse than ever, and you felt like you were in trance, simply capturing the beauty of this man, doing what he loved, with so much passion that you felt like your heart would tear in two, just by watching him.

His eyes met yours again, and he let out a laugh, so free did he feel in that moment. You smiled at him, no, beamed, and you knew that he could tell, from your eyes alone, how much you had missed this interaction, this energy, this connection while he was playing, how much you loved this. And for the first time in two weeks it felt like he was playing only for you.

But when he looked up again, his eyes wandering over the crowd, his smile suddenly died down, and he almost forgot to drum for a second. None of the members of the audience seemed to notice his almost slip up, but you did, after having seen him play so many shows.

Why had he stopped smiling?

When he looked back towards you, he looked sad. You wanted him to smile again, wanted to see his face scrunching up because of how happy he was, but instead he looked away, and started head banging. You furrowed your brows, and felt your heart sink, before you turned to see what he had looked at before he had stopped smiling. The lighting console, where Lars was clicking around on his laptop.

Rage bubbled up in your chest, and the world around you stepped into the background as you fought yourself through the dancing fans, towards where the technician was working. Not hesitating for a second you climbed over the fence, around the rostrum, and poked your ex-boyfriend in the shoulder.

“Hey,” you shouted over the music.

He turned to you, a smug grin on his face.

“Hello there,” he winked, his hands already moving to your hips as if to pull you close.

“You!” Angrily you stabbed your finger against this chest, not caring that the impact with his sternum hurt like hell. “What the fuck did you tell Ryan?”

The grin on his face faltered when he picked up on your rage.

“The truth, that we are getting back together,” he shouted.

“The fuck? Didn’t I make it fucking clear that never, ever, ever, not even if we were the last to fucking people alive in this universe, I’d get back together with you?”

Slowly Lars got angry too.

“I’m fighting for you, isn’t that what women want?”

“No, it’s fucking not! Not if they told you they don’t want anything from you, and especially not when it involves telling lies, and trying to force the woman into something she explicitly said she doesn’t want!”

“You don’t know what you want,” Lars hollered, blood rising to his face, making him look like a tomato with a sunburn, “you should consider yourself lucky to have ever gotten a chance with me! I’m a thousand times better than you, and you show absolutely no gratitude for me wasting my time on a whore like you!”

“If you ever, ever think you know what I want, ever again, I suggest keeping it to your fucking self and letting me live my life the way I want! I’m done with your bullshit manipulations and you guilt tripping me! You’ve been an asshole for as long as I know you, and you’ll always be one, don’t think for a second I don’t know that by now! My only fault was not realizing this while we were still in college!”

“What did you call me?”

Lars took a threatening step towards you, but instead of intimidating you, it only made you angrier. You were done with this shit; you were done with him making you feel small. So instead of backing away, you stood up tall, feet planted hip wide on the ground, shoulders straightened, chin raised, and looking him directly into the eyes, never looking away or blinking. That he was still several inches taller than you did not matter.

“I called you an asshole, a fucking asshole, because that’s what you are. Now back down!”

For a few seconds he stared at you, and you could feel how he tried to win dominance over you, the way he had done back in college when you had been in an argument. But you were not scared of him, not anymore; you were pissed, and you would not let him get the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

To your relief he eventually averted his gaze, and for a second you thought it was over, but then he turned around, and pushed you forcefully into the rostrum, slamming down both hands at your sides.

Now you got scared.

But you were still too pissed to let it show, and before you even had time to react, Lars was grabbed by the back of his shirt, and got yanked backwards. Surprised you saw that a young man, more a boy than a man, had reached over the barriers, and pulled Lars away.

“Leave the lady alone, you hear me,” he shouted.

The moment he realized he had just attacked a grown man, was comically obvious, and for a split second fear flickered in his eyes, but he pushed it aside, staring at Lars the way you had mere seconds ago.

Quickly you climbed over the barrier, next to the boy, who was barely older than sixteen.

Lars was about to say something, but when he saw your challenging stare, he huffed and turned away.

“Are you alright,” the boy checked in on you, making you smile.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you nodded, “That was very brave of you, thank you.”

“Oh,” he blushed, “I didn’t even think about it.”

“I could tell,” you laughed, “thank you so much.”

You saw two girls next to the boy, who wore the same hand-made shirt as him, making you assume they were on the concert together.

“Take care of each other,” you told them, pointing between the lanky young man next to you and the girls, “okay?”

The girls smiled and nodded, one of them answering “We do!” causing the boy to blush even harder.

“Have fun,” you laughed, and turned back to the stage, now knowing what you had to do.

~*~

The energy kept vibrating through the venue even half an hour after Dallon and Ryan had left the stage. You had sold almost all of the merch, leaving only very few shirts in the boxes.

After the last people had bid their good byes, you helped packing up. Lars did not even dare looking at you, and you could not have cared less. Instead you laughed and joked around with Jay and Luis, while you rolled together miles and miles of cables, and stored them in the boxes, which they were transported in.

Ryan had not talked to you yet, and after the interruption after the photoshoot you had a feeling he would not be the first one to make the move anymore. But that was okay, you knew what had happened, why he acted the way he did. And if you could not catch him on his own, you would tell him in front of the others, that Lars had lied to him, that you were not interested in Lars, and that you would never be again.

When finally the venue was cleared and everything neatly stacked into the vans, Dallon and Ryan said good bye to the few dedicated fans, who had been waiting outside, before everyone climbed into the vans.

Lucas had announced that in order to celebrate the end of tour, you would go out to a bar, and everyone, still hyped up by the fantastic show, had cheered happily. After the vans had been parked at the hotel, and the luggage carried into the rooms, Lucas led the way to the bar he had chosen.

You were reminded of the beginning of tour, when everyone had gone out for dinner together. It felt like with this walk the whole journey came to a close.

Everyone was talking and laughing all the way, except for Ryan and you. The whole time you were searching for a good moment to pull him aside, but it was impossible, which only caused your nervousness to skyrocket. Suddenly the realization kicked in that in less than twenty-four hours you would be apart from him, and that if you had not managed to talk to him by then, everything was over. It made you anxious and scared, and made the fear of his reaction even worse.

By the time you reached the bar, you felt sick. None of the others seemed to notice. They were too engulfed by their happiness, which you envied them for.

The bar had a small list of dishes that could still be ordered, and you decided on a cheese sandwich with salad. You were sitting at a small table, the nine of you cramped together, knees bumping against knees, and feet kicking against shins underneath the table, but nobody cared, and laughed instead.

Slowly the relief the others were experiencing, seeped back into you mind, and you started to relax by the time the food arrived.

The sandwich had been fried, and was hot and crispy, the cheese a creamy, stick consistence, and the most delicious you had ever eaten. The others’ laughing infected you, and soon you were wiping away tears of laughter, momentarily having forgotten about the situation with Ryan, who sat two seats away from you, staring into his mobile.

You had just finished your salad, when Dallon, who sat between Ryan and you, tapped you knee. Curious you looked at him, and he nodded downwards, underneath the table. Following his eyes, you saw he had his phone in his hand, the screen displaying a post on the band’s Instagram page. He pushed the mobile into your hands, signalling to keep it low-key, before he continued his conversation with Luis.

Dallon’s phone as warm in your hands, which were cold from your nerves going all haywire. It took you a moment to recognize the first picture of the post Dallon had pulled up to show you. It was a picture of you, standing in a park, from what you remembered several weeks ago, pointing at a swan in the lake in front of you.

Confused you swiped to the second picture, and found that it was another one of you. It was a selfie Ryan and you had taken spontaneously about three weeks back, during a tour through the city. The next picture was you, having fallen asleep on your laptop, head placed on the table next to it, hair falling into your face. More pictures followed, some of which you had not even been aware that they had been taken, but if you were not mistaken, all of them had been shot by Ryan. Finally you noticed the description to the pictures.

“To the invisible ones, the ones behind the camera, whose face never gets captured. To our amazing photographer, (y/n) – RS”

The post had been made just a couple of minutes ago.

Wide eyed you looked over to Ryan, who seemed not to have noticed you, but Dallon did, and took his phone back.

“Everybody, I’d like to make an announcement,” Charlie suddenly spoke, gently hitting his fork against his glass. “I know that barely anybody knew about Luis and me being together,” from the corner of your eyes you saw Dallon staring at the two men wide eyed, then a smile broke out on his face, “and we wanted to keep it private, but we’re done with this now. I asked him to marry me, just after the show tonight, and well, I guess we’re engaged now.”

He grinned widely, but his voice was almost timid, as if he was scared of the team members’ judgement.

“He even had a fucking ring,” Luis cheered, holding out his hand to show of a ring you recognized from the display on the market, where you and Lisa had met Charlie.

You had already thought that the kiss the two had shared after Jay had been arrested did not look like a first kiss, and seeing the happiness in your two friends’ faces made your heart explode.

“Congratulations,” you cheered, and reached over the table to hug both of them the best you could.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bill jumped in, “Charlie, YOU proposed? I always thought it would be Luis.”

“Of course it would be Charlie,” Jay disagreed, “you really don’t know your baby bro, do you?”

Jay and Bill seemed the only ones who had really known about the relationship.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Dallon got up as well hugging the two musicians, and Ryan followed him, “I wish both of you all the very best. You deserve it so much!”

“Yes, 100 percent agreeing with that,” Ryan nodded and patted Charlie’s back, “All the best!”

Even Lars stood up, and shook their hands in congratulation. Lucas was the only one who did not get up.

“I really didn’t see that coming,” he mumbled, “please tell me you’re not planning on marrying on tour; that would be so much paper work.”

Everyone laughed at his comment, and he smiled.

“Seriously guys, I’m happy you found someone to take care of you,” he grinned, “Let’s make a toast. Waiter, please bring us ten, no, nine glasses of champagne!”

“Eight, and one orange juice,” Luis corrected, and winked at Lucas, “still Muslim, still not drinking.”

When the champagne was served, the long, fragile glasses making you scared you would break them simply by looking at them, Lucas congratulated the happy couple again, speaking a toast to their happiness and health.

A tingling sensation at the side of your face made you turn your head, and your eyes met Ryan’s, who had been staring at you the whole time, but quickly looked away now.

After everything had calmed down again, Dallon got up.

“I need some fresh air, Ryan would you like to join me?”

The both men left the table, and stepped outside the door. Through the window you could see them standing on the side walk, and talking for a while.

You engaged back in the conversation, Jay telling how annoying it had been, having to rehearse with the other two, while they were flirting, but not having the courage to ask each other out.

“Oh I can think of two others like that,” Lucas laughed, and by the look of ice Lars was sending over the table, you guessed Lucas was referring to you and Ryan.

In that moment a hand got placed on your shoulder, and you spun around. Standing behind you was Dallon, bending down to talk into your ear.

“He’s waiting for me outside, go and talk some sense into him, I beg you,” he whispered, then he sat back down casually.

You were not certain if you had understood correctly, but when Dallon nodded towards the window encouragingly, through which you could see Ryan facing away from the bar, you got together the courage you had been building up all evening long, and got up.

The air outside was cool. By now it was end of September, and the weather started to turn from summer into autumn.

“That was quick,” Ryan giggled, a sound you missed so desperately, and turned to you, immediately stopping when he noticed that it wasn’t Dallon. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Can we talk?”

You pushed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, hoping to cover up how hard they were shaking.

Ryan looked over his shoulder into the restaurant, and shook his head.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” he mumbled, and was about to walk back inside, but you stepped into his way.

“He was, is, lying, you know, Lars,” you said, looking directly into Ryan’s face, but he avoided your eyes. “He told you I was just using you to win him back, didn’t he? He told you that I don’t like you, don’t- have any interest in you, didn’t he?”

Slowly Ryan tore his gaze away from the pavement, and looked at you for a second, trying to make sense of what you were saying. But then he shook his head slightly, more to himself than in reaction to what you had said, as if he knew what you were about to say, but did not want to believe it. Pressing his lips together firmly, he looked away again, making your heart break even more, but you decided that you had to continue talking anyway.

“I found out just that afternoon, but you wouldn’t talk to me,” you explained.

“So what are you saying,” Ryan asked, his voice almost a little shaky, and full of pain.

“I’m saying that I don’t like him, not anymore, haven’t in a long time,” you told him, “he’s a selfish prick-“ Ryan laughed at that quietly, “and even if he wasn’t, even if he’d be a perfect gentleman, he’d never even get close to how – to you.”

You wanted Ryan to look up at you, wanted him to tell you that he believed you, that he liked you too, that he had never doubted your affection for him, that he had always known that Lars had lied.

But he did not.

Instead he turned away from you, and ran his hands over his face. For a moment you thought he would turn back to you. Instead he started walking away, not even attempting to look over his shoulder.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman angst #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter story #multi chapter #fanfic #fanfiction #angst

[chorusfm]

IDKHOW Announce New Album

IDKHOW will release Razzmatazz on October 16th via Fearless Records. Today they’ve shared the new song “Leave Me Alone.” I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (iDKHOW) the new project led by multi-instrumentalist, and creative mastermind Dallon Weekes has confirmed the release of his debut album Razzmatazz out Oct 16 via Fearless Records. The band has already achieved surprising success racking up over 100 million Spotify streams, a #1 record at SiriusXM’s Alt Nation, the #1 spot on Billboard’s Heatseekers chart for the 1981 Extended Play EP and 32k plays at Alternative radio reaching an audience of over 64 million. Today, they drop the brand new single “Leave Me Alone” accompanied by a stunning visual. On the track a bold bass line fit for Let’s Dance-era Bowie holds down the syncopated riff accompanied by the shimmering beats of drummer Ryan Seaman, providing the perfect backdrop for Dallon’s spirited vocals. The song’s refrain is a slippery send-off, “Now I want you to leave me alone.” Dallon explains the inspiration behind the song, “when you’re in a toxic situation, the phrase ‘Leave Me Alone’ is the last civil thing you say before things get uncivil.” STREAM/BUY "LEAVE ME ALONE" HERE Razzmatazz is the next chapter in iDKHOW’s unfurling curated storyline, in the multi-faceted world Dallon has constructed, iDKHOW was initially believed to have been a band from 30 plus years ago that never got their big break. But in 2017, an anonymous source began to release recovered video footage of iDKHOW. The videos that span the years 1964 to 1983 have been released out of sequence and display a mysterious genesis that has yet to be understood. Dallon Weekes made waves in Panic! At The Disco from 2009-2018, touring around the world and picking up Gold and Platinum plaques as a key songwriter on the chart-topping Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die! and more. In 2016, he introduced iDKHOW at a small show in Los Angeles before denying its existence for months to follow. The project formally revealed itself prior to hitting the road and performing on the mainstage at UK’s Reading and Leeds Festivals as well as sharing stages with the likes of Twenty One Pilots, The 1975, Billie Eilish, The Killers, The National and Blink 182, just to name a few. --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/news/idkhow-announce-new-album/

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Fourteen

Warnings: ANGST, anxiety Word Count: 5 332 A/N: Even if you’re scared, please read to the end

You wanted Ryan to look up at you, wanted him to tell you that he believed you, that he liked you too, that he had never doubted your affection for him, that he had always known that Lars had lied.

But he did not.

Instead he turned away from you, and ran his hands over his face. For a moment you thought he would turn back to you. Instead he started walking away, not even attempting to look over his shoulder.

It felt like your heart had stopped beating. All blood seemed to rush into your legs, making you dizzy, and for a moment you wondered if Ryan would come running back if your knees would give out, and you would fall to the ground, but you were too frozen in place to even break down. What had happened? Why was he not even talking to you? If he did not like you back, why not say it? Did he not believe you? Did he really think you would play with his emotions like that?

It took you a good ten seconds until breathing was possible again, and your brain started working. You had sworn to yourself you would say these words that had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks, tell him you were in love with him. And you wanted a proper rejection. Not just some turning away and walking into the night like some dramatic rom-com hero. You needed him to say that he did not want anything to do with you.

So you did the only thing you were able to think of. You ran after him.

“Ryan, hey!”

He had been walking faster than you had thought, and with his long legs he had already made it pretty far down the street, speeding up when he heard you following him. Just when you were about to reach him, he spun around.

“What?”

His voice was harsh, a sound that made you flinch, and you realized that while Lars had not been able to scare you in the venue earlier, it was far too easy for Ryan to do so now. Maybe because Ryan meant everything to you, and Lars nothing.

His face was half hidden in the shadows, making it impossible to tell if the expression he was wearing was one of anger or pain, and your heart clutched in your chest.

“Talk to me,” you begged, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging in your eyes.

Who cared if you cried now? It only would prove your point of how much he meant to you. And while you obviously could not be sure about it, you had a feeling that the situation you found yourselves in was not due to a lack of feelings for you from his side.

But now he only stared at you, stared at you like he wished he did not know who you were.

“Please, Ryan,” the words in your mind started tumbling over each other, and your tongue and jaw felt heavy, making speaking hard, “I-“

The look in his eyes made you shut up. Never in your life had you though you could see his beautiful brown eyes filled with so much anger and pain.

It did not matter. You had sworn yourself to say it, to ask him for a rejection, if that was all he had to offer, and even if it would tear your heart in two, more so than the past two weeks, then so be it.

“I love you, Ryan, I love you and I have been in love with you for weeks, and if you don’t feel the same, I want you to say it into my face, and you won’t ever have to see me again.” Your voice was steadier than you had believed to be possible, considering all the emotions flooding through your system. “But if you feel the same, then I don’t want some jealous asshole to destroy what we could have together. Because I think that’s the real problem here. Otherwise, what would these photos on Instagram have been about?”

Ryan just stared at you for a long while, making it impossible to guess what was going on inside of his head.

“I can’t trust you,” he eventually muttered, his voice sounding nothing like the angry bark from before. It sounded broken.

“Can’t you, or don’t you want to? Be honest, this is about what Lars said, that I would only use you?”

Even though he did not answer, you knew you were right; his eyes gave him away this time.

Now it was your turn to get angry.

“Are you really going to believe him more than me? Haven’t you seen first-hand what he does, how he tried to force me back to him? Remember that time on the bus when Dallon and you had to get him off of me? Do you really think someone like that would not lie about whatever pleases him, about whatever might be of some sort of use for him? Do you really want to trust some asshole like that more than me? Have I ever made given you any reason to doubt my affection, Ryan?”

You were almost shouting at him, but he did not flinch. Instead his shoulders grew so much tenser, and when you had to take a breath, he immediately shouted back.

“Have you ever thought about that maybe I don’t need anyone to tell me what to believe and what not? It’s not about him! It’s not about you! It’s about me! He doesn’t need to tell me that I’m not good enough for you, ‘cause I already know that myself! I don’t need anyone to tell me who I love and who I don’t love. I know that I can’t ever love someone like you enough, because someone like me is just never going to be able to feel that much all at once. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t kill me, alright? And I just can’t have you, or him, or Dallon, or anyone else chase me around all the time, telling me what you feel for me, or what I feel for you, because at this point-“

Expectantly you were staring at him, lips quivering and tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Somehow it was relieving to have him shout at you. It was better than the silence, even though his words ripped hole after hole into your chest. It was a hot kind of pain, not the slow, icy pain from the past two weeks. It burned hot and red, and you wished it would burn just all of the emotions right out of you.

Ryan never finished his sentence.

He just stared at you for a while, watching you break down in front of him, still standing and challenging him with your eyes to continue what he had started. But instead of giving you the final blow, he turned around, and started walking away. Again.

No matter how hurt and sad and disappointed you were, you were angry as well. Some part of you felt guilty for assuming to know how Ryan felt, some part of you felt desperate to prove him wrong about the way he felt about himself, wanted to show him that he was so much better than he thought he was. But all you could think about was how he had not properly said that he did not like you.

He had walked almost five meters, when you spoke up.

“Feelings, yes or no,” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear.

What if he said yes, you wondered. You would need to give him time. But there would be hope, and it didn’t matter how long it would take him to come around, as long as there was hope.

Ryan stopped in his tracks, and for a moment you almost expected him to turn back around, to shout at you again to finally leave him alone.

Slowly he shook his head.

“No, I don’t want them.”

You just watched as he walked away, down the street, and disappeared in the shadows.

~*~

It felt like the air had been deprived of all oxygen. Black and white spots were dancing in his vison. He felt light headed. Maybe he would faint. Maybe if he fainted, he did not have to think about what had happened. Where was he even going? Did not matter. Had he really said he did not like, did not love her? Had he really turned her efforts to figure out the truth, to make them both happy, against her? Had he really said all these words that still echoed in his mind?

He had wanted to protect her. Never had he wanted to protect anyone as much as her. Never had he felt like anyone needed protection from the mess he sometimes turned into. Until now. And he had pushed her away. So far away. He had hurt her, and he had made sure there was no going back.

But all he wanted now was to go back. All he wanted now was to run back to her, wrap her in his arms, kiss her, tell her the truth, tell her that he loved her.

He stopped. A part of his mind screamed that he needed to be rational, that he would drag her down with him if he went back now, but his heart finally won control over his body, and he turned around, running back to where he had left her.

Out of breath, more falling than walking, Ryan rounded the last corner, only to find you were gone.

For a while he stood under the lamppost, wondering what to do. Eventually, unable to think of something better, he walked back to the bar.

The crew was still sitting around the tables, chatting and laughing. But you weren’t there.

Dallon immediately saw his friend entering, and when he noticed the lack of your presence, and the expression on Ryan’s face, he jumped up, the smile from seconds ago wiped off his face. He did not care for the chair that fell over, he just stormed over to Ryan, and grabbed him by the arm, dragging the drummer outside again. Ryan did not even struggle, and willingly told Dallon what had happened.

~*~

You had said he would never have to see you again, so that’s what you would make sure off. Instead of going back to the bar, you had taken the direct way back to the hotel. Not only did you not want to face the others, you also were desperate never to see Ryan again, just like promised. But if you would stay, you would see each other tomorrow, and you knew you could not bear that. So you ran up the stairs to the hotel room, grabbed your bag with the pyjama and your equipment, and threw the key on Jay’s bed, before pulling the door closed behind you.

The receptionist did not dare asking what was wrong when you asked how far it was to the train station, and then for the number of a cab company. He was curious, obviously, why the young woman who had been so cheerful earlier, now was close to tears, asking how to leave the city the quickest, but he had a feeling you would not tell him anyway, so he just ordered a cab, and wished you a good night as you left the hotel to wait for the cab outside.

It was the end of September, the nights were getting colder, and out here on the platform of the train station the wind was like ice. You had sat down on a bench, your knees pulled up to your chest, the bag next to you, with one of the straps looped around your ankle. You were shaking, from crying, from the cold, the pain of having lost Ryan, and from knowing that he had never even been yours to begin with.

Little did you know that after Ryan’s and Dallon’s talk, Dallon had stormed back into the bar, telling everyone they had to find you. He did not feel sorry for Luis and Charlie to interrupt this important evening for them, and it did not even occur to them that others might have been upset about their engagement dinner being interrupted. Both of the men had, just like Dallon, felt the attraction between you and Ryan, and even though they had not known about Lars’ involvement, they were desperate to help. Lukas, Jay and Bill were just as anxious for Ryan and you, when Dallon told the group how Ryan had messed up, and needed to find you. Only Lars enjoyed the chaos.

The group, minus Lars, left the bar as quickly as possible, deciding that obviously you had gone back to the hotel. Ryan was shaking the whole time, trying not to think about would happen if he would not find you. When Jay came back from the room he was supposed to be sharing with you, saying your stuff was gone, Ryan ran to check the vans, but to no avail.

He should have known that you would stick to your word, that he would never see you again if he rejected you. He should have known that you would disappear off the face of this earth.

Lukas had tried calling you many times already, and was just speaking onto your voice mail, when Ryan came back into the lobby, where Bill had finally remembered that there was a hopefully very simple way to find you. Leaning over the counter, he was talking to the receptionist, and when he saw Ryan entering, he turned to him.

“Train station.”

Ryan did not mind that it was a twenty minute walk. A cab would take at least ten minutes to the hotel, and then another ten to the station. Running was faster. Ryan did not care about the shouts of his friends, asking him to wait, either. He just ran. The adrenaline was already pumping through his system anyway. Waiting for a cab would have killed him.

Were there even any trains leaving in the middle of the night, at least any that would be of use to you? Where would you try to go? Somehow make your way back to Salt Lake City?

But you knew about none of that. You were still sitting on the bench, curled together tightly, waiting for the ticket booth to open in a few hours. Your phone, which had been ringing continuously in your bag had finally, after a long day, run out of battery, and was quiet now.

Sitting in the cold, you remembered that there were still pictures of shows you needed to edit. Maybe you would give them to your friend Collin, back at the photography agency you technically still worked at. He surely would do you the favour to look through the pictures of the last concert, and edit the good ones before sending everything to the label. You would not be able to look at even just a blurry picture of Ryan, not after what had happened, after what he had said.

The more you thought about it, the worse it got. Not only the things he had said about himself, how he thought he could never love you as much as you deserved. What had he even meant by “someone like me” and “someone like you”? You also felt guilty. Your insistence for an answer must have felt like you were harassing him, and never had you intended to do that, or make him feel like he was cornered. A small cry left your lips, and you wrapped your arms tighter around your knees, pulling them closer to your chest, trying to keep yourself from falling apart.

Suddenly someone was by your side. You had not even heard them approach you, and without warning warm arms engulfed you, and before you could panic, a familiar and oh so calming scent flooded your nose. Another tiny cry escaped your lips before you unwrapped yourself, and flung your arms around Ryan.

Immediately he pulled you into his lap, his arms around your body while you gripped tightly into the leather jacket he was wearing, your face buried in the side of his neck, your other hand searching for some form of contact with his skin until your weaved your fingers into his hair. You did not know what was happening, only that you cried harder than you had ever done before. Your fingers hurt from holding onto him so tightly, and his skin was hot and sweaty, as if he had been running. Uneven breaths fanned over your neck as he nuzzled his nose against the side of your head. His hands were gripping and letting go of the thin jacket you were wearing, as if he always searched for a better way to hold you tightly to him, so you would not slip away again. He would never let you slip away again.

After what felt like hours, your tears had finally dried, and Ryan’s heavy breathing, be it from running or crying himself, had calmed down too. Every single muscle in your body was exhausted, and slowly you lost your hold on his jacket and hair, but you were happy as long as you were allowed to hide your face against his neck.

Whenever you opened your eyes, a strand of his blue hair dangled into your sight, and with every breath you inhaled the mixture of deodorant and whatever it was that Ryan smelled like. He just smelled like Ryan, like safety, like love. Thinking about how you had almost lost that, made you shiver under his hands, and quickly you tightened your hold on him again, causing him to wrap his arms even harder around you again.

Time had long lost its meaning as you were sitting on the bench together, but eventually you started getting cold. With a shaky sigh, you pulled away from him, your one hand still holding onto his jacket. His eyes flickered open to look at you. Even in the orange glow of the lantern that lit up the platform you could see that his eyes were red, and a wave of guilt rushed over you, realising that they were red because of you.

Before you even had time to give it another thought, Ryan leant up, just enough to capture your lips with his. Admittedly, you had not even thought about kissing him, had not even considered it a possibility anymore, and now feeling his lips against yours surprised you, but you leant in, suddenly feeling too worn out to resist the temptation any longer.

His kiss was urgent, pleading, as he stretched up to reach you, and when you leant in, he wrapped one of his hands into your hair, pulling you closer to him. You let him take control of the kiss, not caring about anything anymore, as long as it only meant that the distance between him and you would not increase. Your heart was hammering in your throat, and you thought Ryan had to feel your heartbeat against his lips, but if he did, he did not care. Instead he pressed his lips against you, hot, and full of determination, like a promise to never let you go again.

A shiver went through his body, and your best guess was that it had been a thought similar to the one you had had earlier, because his hands tightened their grip around you. You needed him to know that you were there, by his side, not ever intending to leave again, and with that thought you wrapped both your arms around his neck, and pulled yourself closer to him, kissing him harder, hard enough to knock all breath out of both of you, until neither of you was able to do anything but to pull away panting.

A breathless giggle of relief escaped you, and even though you had your eyes closed, you could feel Ryan’s glare on your face, before he shut you up, by quickly pressing his lips against yours, but only for a moment. When you opened your eyes finally, you found that he was already staring at you, his forehead pressed against yours, his lips red from kissing, his cheeks crimson from the excitement and the cold air. His dark eyes were glowing, even in the dim light, with happiness and love.

You were about to kiss him again, so overwhelmed by having him so close to you, when he closed his eyes, and mumbled a few words, which you did not understand. When he looked at you again, his eyes almost carried something like fear in them. Curious you looked at him, wordlessly asking him to repeat what he had been saying, and he did.

“I can’t go another minute without saying this, (y/n),” he whispered, his lips only a few millimetres away from yours, “and I should have said it weeks ago; then none of this would have happened. But I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo-“

And even though you still had not caught your breath properly, you kissed him again, with no regard for your lungs screaming for oxygen, or your heart begging for a break.

~*~

On the way to the hotel, walking slowly, hand in hand, Ryan’s jacket over your shoulders, your bag over his, he explained what had happened, why he had said what he had said, and listened to your side of the story as well. Much to your relief he was not mad at you for wanting a clear and once and for all answer; nor were you mad about what he had said. The only thing that really concerned you was what he had said about not being able to love you as he thought you deserved. When you asked him about it, he shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I don’t even know why I said that. It’s just… sometimes it feels impossible to love you as much as I do, and you are so wonderful, and I respect you so much, and I only want the very best for you, and somehow I’m having a hard time believing that that could really be me.”

You nodded, thinking about his words for a while.

“Let me tell you something, Mr. Seaman,” he grinned as you called him by his last name, “I, for one, am very certain that you are the absolutely very best thing that could happen to me, not to mention the kindest and sweetest person I could ever dream of.” You bit your tongue before adding, that you did not feel like deserving him either, but you knew he would only be upset about it. Eventually you probably would have to address this topic again, but not tonight. “And even if none of this was true, I wouldn’t want anybody else but you. And that’s the part that matters.”

Ryan smiled down on you lovingly, and bent over to kiss your hair.

“I’m just worrying already, what about next tour, you know. You deserve someone who is around, who you can spend time with, someone who isn’t half-way across the country, who you won’t see for-“

He suddenly stopped in his steps, making you turn to him in confusion. His eyes were widened, and a smile spread across his face as if he had just remembered something wonderful.

“What’s going on,” you laughed, stepping in front of him, taking his hands in yours.

“The label… actually, a couple of weeks ago, Lukas said they asked if you would like to work for them, with us, as our touring photographer, he just wanted to wait with telling you until after the tour was over.” When you only stared at him wide eyed, he added, “You know, as iDKHOW’s official photographer. Every tour, every concert, you could always be there. We could go on tour together.”

His voice faded out as if he had suddenly started to worry that you did not feel as enthusiastic about the offer as he did.

Truth be told, you were totally overwhelmed. And just like the past couple of minutes, whenever you felt overwhelmed by positive emotions, you just lent forwards, and kissed him again, hard.

You felt him smile into the kiss, and when he pulled away to look into your face, you were smiling brightly as well.

“Is that a yes,” he asked hopefully and you nodded happily, making him wrap you in a hug, before you continued your way to the hotel.

Much to your surprise, and honestly embarrassment, your friends were waiting in the lobby for you. The clock on the wall showed that it was only quarter past two in the morning, which surprised you; you had assumed it would be much later.

Luis and Charlie had squeezed into an armchair together, their heads leaning against each other sleepily. Bill was clicking around on his phone, while Lukas, Dallon and Jay were quietly talking. When Ryan and you entered, everyone perked up, and jumped to their feet, immediately engulfing both of you in hugs.

“Whoa, guys, it’s not like we died, or anything,” you joked, as Charlie pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

“You should have seen Ryan,” Dallon disagreed, “he sure looked like he was about to die.”

For that comment he earned a playful shove from Ryan, which he answered with blowing him a kiss.

“I thought you are the one who’s always dying,” you grinned over Charlie’s shoulder, who was still squeezing you tightly, “Or what are all these “lol, I’m dead” pics about?”

Dallon only poked his tongue out at you.

“Seriously, we were worried,” Charlie confessed, finally letting go of you, “We thought we might never see you again. Not to mention that we were all seriously rooting for you guys.”

“All, except for Lars,” Bill joked, causing Dallon to make gaging sounds.

“Ugh, don’t say his name,” Ryan rolled his eyes, making everyone laugh.

“Is it mean that we all hate him now,” Jay asked, but he sounded indifferent. After Ryan had left to get you back from the train station, Dallon had told them what exactly had happened, and neither of the five men found it in themselves to make up excuses for Lars’s behaviour.

“No, he fucking hurt our friends,” Luis answered, “We’re allowed to hate him.”

You had barely noticed, but while your friends were talking you had automatically gravitated back to Ryan, who had already wrapped his arm around your shoulder again. Smiling you looked at the men bickering in the lobby, and suddenly you felt very glad to have gotten the chance to get to know all of them.

“We should go to sleep,” Lukas eventually proposed, “we still have to drive home tomorrow.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Jay and Dallon decided they would not mind sharing a room tonight, so Ryan and you had some more time for yourselves.

“Hey, Ryan,” you had almost reached your door, when Lukas’s voice made both of you turn around again, “did you ask her about the job?”

Ryan glanced over to you and grinned.

“Yes.”

“So-?”

Expectantly Lukas looked between the two of you, and Dallon, Bill, and the Three Beats, curiously waited for your answer as well.

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” you shrugged, and once again you were engulfed by the group of men, Ryan and Lukas watching laughing from the side lines.

~*~

When you reached the house in Salt Lake City, in which the instruments got stored, the next evening, you suddenly felt very exhausted. The streets looked familiar, but felt more foreign than some of the cities you had been seeing. The air was wet with falling dew, and the light of the setting sun got dimmed by brooding clouds, but you helped put away the equipment anyway.

Lucas slammed the door of the van shut, once everything was unloaded and put back in its place, and took a look at the eight people in front of him. Lars was standing to the side, hands buried in his pockets; Charlie and Luis were arm in arm, standing next to Bill. Jay was leaning casually against the wall of the building, and Dallon fumbled around with the strap of his backpack. Ryan and you stood next to Dallon, fingers loosely intertwined, hands hanging between the two of you.

“So everybody,” Lucas spoke taking a deep breath, “that’s it, tour’s over.”

“Woohoo,” Jay cheered, making everyone cheer along with him.

“Thank you for the great work you did, we’ve had some rough times, but in general I think it was a really successful tour.” Everybody nodded in agreement. “Luis, Charlie, Jay, I’ll see you around I hope, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.” The three smiled at him happily. “Lars told me this morning that he requested at the label to tour with another band, so I’m sad not to have him with us in the future.” Lucas’ words said one thing, but the way he said it, made it clear he was glad not to have him around anymore. “And Bill, Dallon, (y/n), Ryan: to a good next tour, I guess.”

“Cheers to that,” Bill laughed and lifted an imaginary glass; toasting into the round, making everyone do the same gesture back at him.

“And now go home; I want to go to sleep!”

With these words Lucas disbanded the group, and started hugging one after the other, while Lars stole himself away, knowing that after the stunts he had pulled, everybody was fed up with him.

You also hugged the “Three Cheers” good bye, making them promise to call you, if they wanted pictures taken of a local gig.

Bill engulfed you in a bear hug, lifting you up, and making you laugh, and Dallon wrapped you in his arms as well, wishing you a good night.

You watched how Lucas walked up to a petite woman of his age, who was waiting next to an old car down the road. She had greyish hair pulled into a lazy tail, and was wearing a soft, green dress. He pecked her on the mouth before wrapping her in a long hug.

Charlie, Luis and Bill got picked up by the brothers’ younger brothers, the twins, and Jay’s sister picked up Jay, and offered Dallon a ride home, which he gladly accepted.

So in the end, only you and Ryan were left.

“I don’t want to go home,” Ryan mumbled, taking both of your hands in his, and leaning his forehead against yours.

“Me neither,” you confessed, looking up into the magnificent brown eyes you adored so much.

“Don’t you want to go home, or don’t you want to go home alone,” he asked, brushing his nose against yours.

“Don’t wanna go home without you,” you admitted, making him smile.

“Then let’s go to my place together, would that be an idea?”

You smiled as well, lifting your head so you could give him a quick kiss. But Ryan, being Ryan, did not let you get away so easily, and pulled you in instead, deepening the kiss, stealing your breath away.

“I’d love that,” you smiled when you eventually found the willpower to pull away.

“Sounds awesome,” Ryan grinned, his eyes scanning your face lovingly, and he brushed a single hair out of your face, “It’s this way.”

Taking each other’s hands, the suitcases in the other, you started making your way down the street.

Above you, the clouds broke and released a shower of icy rain, but for once neither Ryan nor you minded getting wet, because as you crossed the next street, both of you remembered the way you had met the first time, in the streaming rain.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman angst #ryan seaman mood board #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #his smile will keep you safe #final chapter #you can kill me now

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Eleven

Warnings: angst; mention of drugs, depression, and panic attacks; implied police brutality, racism

Word Count: 3 636

Naturally you were not the only one who had noticed that things were off. In fact everybody had noticed the changed dynamic between Ryan and you, but most of the guys had enough on their hands to do, so they did not really care. After all, you were adults who had to figure out their own problems.

The only one who really seriously started to worry, not only about the suddenly strange behaviour of Ryan, but also because of his rapidly declining mood, was Dallon. It was difficult for the bassist not to be affected by Ryan’s mood. After all, they not only shared a stage, but also a room most of the time.

And the room was filled with a brooding dark cloud as soon as Ryan stepped into it. Dallon had never really considered himself the Agony Aunt kind of guy, but it was obvious that his friend had trouble, and needed help, even if he probably did not want it. But then again, Dallon had never really cared much about what other people though either, so after the show on Friday, five days into Ryan’s changed act, he decided it was about time he had a serious talk with him.

As Dallon had expected, Ryan was not incredibly willing to open up, but once he did, in the privacy of their hotel room, and a shared bottle of wine later, it was like a wave broke free. And so Ryan shared everything that had happened. From how he had started to like you more and more, to how he knew for certain that you had stolen his heart away, how you had spent the night in the hotel lobby after the bus had been stolen, the night on the bridge, and how you had fallen asleep, curled into his side after the show that had been so sparsely visited.

And then he told Dallon about Lars. He told him what he knew about your past with the electrician, about the conversation he had had with him, and about the doubts, the insecurities and abysses, which had been awoken inside of him.

“You need to talk to her,” Dallon exclaimed.

He was overwhelmed by the story Ryan had told him. Of course he had known that the drummer and the photographer had slowly started to reach out for each other, but he could not believe a single word Lars seemed to have told Ryan. Never would you do something like that, not you. It was obvious that your affection towards Ryan was pure and honest, and non-existent towards Lars. That the other man’s words caused his friend to feel so broken and worthless, enraged Dallon beyond words, but that would all be fine if Ryan only would talk to you, so you would clear up the situation.

“I can’t, I can’t, Dallon,” Ryan cried, “I couldn’t stand the look in her eyes if she only confirmed everythi-“

“But she won’t! Do you really believe that she could do this to you? You haven’t seen the way she looks at you the way I do. She wants to be with you, she wants you to be happy, Ryan! And she couldn’t care any less for this bars- Lars! I’d go as far as saying that at the moment you’re her entire world, but you’re gambling with this, if you don’t go and talk to her; or at least share any interaction with her!

“No, no, no, Dallon, no. This way I at least have the glimmer of a hope that none of what he said is true, but if I talk to her then it becomes reality-“

“You’d rather miss out on the amazing time, the care and love of such a sweet girl than to face the pain of rejection,” Dallon’s eyes were wide, and he wanted to shake some sense into his friend, who had buried his face in his hands.

“I can’t take it, knowing she just used me,” Ryan whispered.

These words shut Dallon up for a while. He could not remember the last time he had felt this way about somebody. He was lucky enough to be married to the girl of his dreams, to have two beautiful, healthy children. It had been way more than a decade ago that he had faced this problem.

In a last attempt to console his friend, Dallon reached out his hand to pat Ryan’s shoulder, but he only flinched away, making Dallon realise that there was nothing more to do for him. He watched sadly as Ryan pulled his legs up to his chest and fell backwards on the bed, where he turned to the side, away from Dallon and curled into a small ball, closing his eyes.

~*~

It had been more than a week since Ryan had stopped talking to you, and to make things even worse, tour was almost over. After tonight, there were only two shows left, and the thought, to part ways with Ryan like this, after you had had so much fun together, was beyond painful to you. Having given up on trying understanding his changed behaviour, you had retreated into spending time mostly on your own. Charlie, Dallon and occasionally Lisa were the only ones who you had regular conversations with.

It seemed as if everyone had slowly but surely used up all their energy, and desperately needed the end of the tour to come as quickly as possible, to recharge. On stage the bands were still along the best ones you had ever heard, but between shows their power was obviously drained. The chatter and excited banter from the beginning of tour had died down, especially during the past days, and it felt like everyone was running on auto-mode, hoping to get home as soon as possible.

The only time things still felt the same was during the shows, when the music made everyone’s body and soul vibrate, and the enthusiasm of the fans fuelled the musicians throughout the evening. Even though you did not want to admit it to yourself, you felt the exhaustion too. Luckily you had successfully fought off your depression most of the time, but that in itself was energy draining. It was the same kind of draining as if you had a bad cold, and tried to function properly, but at least you did.

But without Ryan’s cheerful personality around, his smiles lighting up the room like rays of sunshine to catch during the days, the days blended into grey goo, one as bleak as the other. And even the shows lost their colour and magic, starting to feel more like a duty to you, than fun.

It was early afternoon, and you were sitting under a tree close to the venue. Since everybody was busy, you had gotten lunch on your own, now munching half-heartedly on some fries.

Lucas and Bill were busy with some last minute problems the venue had had with the electricity, Lisa and Lars had gone out to a restaurant, the “Three Beats” were sitting backstage, writing music, and Dallon was sitting on the bus together with Ryan, who did not talk to you.

Over chewing an especially limp fry, you punched a short message to your mother into your phone, and pressed sent. You did not want her to know that you were feeling really down right now, but you really missed your parents. After all, nobody else was around to console you.

Without a warning the door to the bus flew open far more violently than should be allowed, and made a huge bang, crashing into the side of the bus. Looking up, you saw Ryan almost falling out. Quickly he turned his head in both directions, and when he spotted you, he started sprinting over. Confused you furrowed your brows, and put your phone away, waiting for whatever Ryan seemed desperate to share with you, after one and a half weeks of not talking to you.

“You need to see this,” he almost shouted, coming to a halt in front of you. He looked irritated, and almost scared, which immediately rang some alarm bells in your mind.

Not daring to ask what had happened to shake him up like this, you jumped up from your place on the ground, and followed Ryan, who had immediately turned around, and ran back to the bus.

Inside the bus your eyes needed a second to adjust to the dimmer light. Ryan was standing right in front of the couch table, accusingly pointing towards one of the sofas. Dallon was standing next to it, a pair of scissors in hand, the other hand pressed into his side.

Stepping out from behind Ryan, you finally were able to see what they were staring at. The fabric that covered the seats of the couch had been torn, or rather cut, open, revealing something that did not look like the ordinary sofa cushion you would have expected.

Instead, peeking out from underneath a thrown back cushion foil, were things that looked like white bricks. From just one glance you could tell that each seat’s upholstery on the sofa had been replaced by at least fifteen of these white, milk-tetra-pack-sized objects.

Carefully you took a step closer, and then it hit you.

The white, in plastic foil covered bricks, were drugs. They looked different from what you had seen in movies, where they usually were wrapped with a brown tape, but there was no doubt that what Dallon and Ryan were showing to you was a heap of drugs.

“What-“ confused you turned to Ryan, who was still staring at their discovery.

“We were fooling around and accidently tore the fabric. That’s when we saw that it looked strange,” Dallon explained in a monotonous voice.

“We need to call the police,” you stuttered, already reaching for the phone in your pocket.

“I’ll do that,” Ryan decided, “You need to take pictures, so they know how it looks, in case this gets changed somehow.”

As in trance, you nodded, and quickly pushed past the two men towards the back, where you grabbed your camera off your bed. Turning on the rarely used flash, you started shooting pictures out of different angles, careful not to accidently move or touch anything. Ryan was talking on the phone, trying to explain the situation, but his voice faded into the background. Pedantically you captured everything you saw, then you took out the SD-card, and slipped it into your wallet.

“What are you doing,” Dallon asked, who had watched you.

“Taking pictures on the internal storage, just to be sure,” you explained, before you snapped a couple more pictures, then you plucked the SD-card back in.

No ten minutes later a police patrol had arrived. When Dallon and Ryan showed them the scene, they immediately called backup.

What followed were endless questions by different police officers, who took Dallon’s and Ryan’s fingerprints to rule them out, and confiscated the drugs. It turned out that underneath the top layer of each seat, another three layers had been hidden. In total there were almost 200 kilograms of drugs.

Of course the rest of the crew had noticed that something was going on, and everybody got questioned all over again. You were reminded of the night when the bus had been stolen, except that Ryan was a lot more distant now.

“Were there any suspects when the bus got stolen,” the police officer asked after most of the questioning was done.

Lucas shook his head.

“Not while we were around, and they didn’t tell us anything so far,” he explained.

The officer nodded and turned to one of his colleagues.

“Contact Minneapolis, ask if they got any lead on that,” turning back to Lucas he explained, “My best guess would be that while the bus was stolen, the drugs were hidden in there.”

“And the bus was returned so we would act as the carrier,” Bill completed the thought.

The policeman nodded.

“But how did they know where we’re going? And how did they think they would get the drugs back,” Luis asked wide eyed.

“The must’ve had an insider,” the man answered.

The whole time you had the strange feeling that he was always looking into Jay’s direction.

Of course the entire bus was confiscated by the police, searching for evidence and more drugs. This, once again, posed the problem of the lack of transportation.

In a desperate number of phone calls, ten minutes before the show started, Lucas manged to rent two vans that would hopefully be big enough to drive the team plus instruments across the county.

The atmosphere that night was strange. Obviously nobody was allowed to tell anyone, especially the fans, about the discovery from the afternoon, but the whole crew was tense and nervous. The idea to have been sitting hours and hours on several kilos of drugs made you feel sick, and you wondered if there really was a connection between the bus being stolen, and the drugs being hidden on board. But it was too crazy to be a mere coincidence.

As soon as “Three Beats” was done playing, and the stage had been set for Dallon and Ryan, Lucas and Bill headed to the car rental to get the vans. The whole situation made you feel sick. Everything was too stressful and too much to handle right now, and Ryan was back to not even talking to you, which made everything ten times worse.

You felt like you were suffocating in the hot air and the mass of bodies, moving to the familiar beat of a Brobecks song. Slowly you knees started feeling weak, and your breath got faster and faster.

This time you recognized the panic attack before it reached its high, and remembering Lucas’ offer to draw back when you needed time for yourself, you quickly left the venue.

The air outside was cool and refreshing. Thankful, you took a few deep breaths, managing to steady you breathing, and then slowly but surely your heartrate as well. Deciding to wait a few minutes before going back in, you walked up the street towards the backstage entrance, where Charlie, Luis and Jay were standing, quietly talking amongst themselves.

When they saw you, they waved you over, and Jay handed you a bottle of soda, which you took a few sips from. The sweet liquid was helping your dizzy mind to clear up quickly, and shortly after, you were listening attentively to the conversation.

“Look, I think they found something,” Luis suddenly pointed out, nodding into the direction of the officers that directly headed towards you.

“Let’s hope it’s good news,” Charlie whispered, and squeezed Luis’ hand tightly.

“Jay Campbell,” one of the officers asked.

“Yes, Sir?”

Jay peeked up at hearing his name, but his expression changed once he saw the aggression in the policemen’s faces.

“You’re under arrest for smuggling illegal substances,” the same man spoke, placing his hand on Jay’s shoulder, and turning him around forcefully so his back was facing the policemen.

With a quick motion he had cuffed Jay’s hands behind his back before anyone could even register what exactly was happening.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to-“

The rest of the Miranda warning drowned in the rushing of blood in your ears. You could feel your cheeks heat up with hot anger, while your heart started hammering in your chest. But your blood felt like it had been replaced with ice crystals.

How dare they? How dare they accuse Jay of being a drug trafficker? He was one of the gentlest people you had ever met, never in a billion years would he do something like smuggle drugs, especially not after what he had told you about the town he had grown up in.

It did not surprise you that the first one to protest was Luis. With red head and babbling too many words at once to understand a single one of them, he stepped towards the police men who had cuffed his friend, shouting at them to let Jay go.

Charlie and you both noticed the small movements of the policemen, who placed their palms at their sides, where they had their guns. News articles mentioning yet another man shot by police flashed in your mind, and Charlie and you both synchronically reached out to pull Luis back, before anyone had the idea to do something very stupid.

Luis was still shouting, and struggled against you, while Jay was being led to the car, too surprised to do anything. The last thing you saw of the singer were his dreadlocks, held together by a band in the colours of his parents’ country of birth, Jamaica, disappearing behind the tinted windows of the closing car door.

Luis was still shouting when the car was long gone. Charlie and you had let go of the outraged man, who now was violently throwing his fists into the air, while kicking everything in his way, and screaming obscenities. You did not even notice that tears were running down your cheeks until Charlie handed you a tissue. Sniffing you took it, and watched how he carefully approached his friend. It took him a few minutes, but eventually Luis allowed the bassist to hug him, and snuggled into the embrace.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Charlie promised, and placed a soft kiss on Luis’ lips.

Admittedly slightly surprised, but not as surprised as you would have imagined to be, you decided to give the two some privacy.

You headed back towards the main entrance, where Bill and Lucas just arrived in the newly rented vans.

Lucas jumped out, proudly pointing towards the vehicles.

“Look at these beauties! We should have no problem to get everything inside! They have so much space! Now we have everything back in order,” he grinned, but stopped immediately when he saw your expression. “What’s wrong?”

Bill had jumped out as well, curiously walking over, and speeding up when he saw you were crying. Protectively he wrapped his arms around you, something he had never done before.

“They arrested Jay,” you whispered, letting out a shaky breath.

Lucas stayed calmer than you had imagined. Secretly you had thought he would throw a tantrum worse than Luis’s, but instead he pulled out his phone, and immediately started calling people. Then he climbed back into the van, and drove off, most likely towards the police station to find Jay.

When the others were finished with their jobs, and learned about what had happened, they reacted pretty much exactly as you had predicted. The men looked unbelieving, but too exhausted and done with the world to get really angry, and Lisa started crying.

Originally it had been planned to drive over night, so you would reach Cincinnati, the second last stop on tour, in the morning, so you could spend the last free day in the city, and did not have to worry about being late.

Now Bill organized a room in a small hostel instead. While Lisa, Luis, Charlie and Bill drove to the hostel, Ryan, Dallon, Lars and you started packing together. Bill later returned to pick up the equipment, and took you all back to where you would spend the night. He had even managed to organize a garage, after, according to Charlie, he had almost started crying in the attempt to explain why they could not risk getting the vehicle stolen.

The room you had been booked into was a dorm with ten beds, a sink, a long table in the middle, and a few armchairs scattered around the room.

Everyone was eerily quiet while settling in. Lisa was lying stretched out on the bed she had chosen, and only looked up as Lars sat down next to her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. You had a feeling that they had ended up getting quiet close lately, and even though you were disappointed Lisa had not listened to your advice, you did not find it in you to care about her life choices. And it was not your business anyway.

That night nobody dared going to sleep. You sat on the table, staring into the distance, while everybody else was following their thoughts individually. Again and again your mind circled around the image of Jay being taken away in handcuffs; and how the policemen’s hands had immediately moved towards their guns when Luis had stepped forward. You did not want to believe what your brain was telling you, that they probably would not have reached for their guns if it had been Charlie, Bill, Lucas, Lars, Dallon, or Ryan who stepped towards them. But Luis, with his black hair and black eyes, and the slightly Arabian features… and then what about Jay?

Lucas had called shortly after you had reached the hostel, saying that they had no evidence against Jay, but wanted to hold him. If they had no evidence, then why had they arrested him in the first place? Again and again a word swam to the surface of your conciseness, but you could not believe it. There was no way that this was happening to one of your friends.

“We’re all thinking about Jay, aren’t we,” Dallon eventually mumbled.

It was about four am, but nobody was lying on their beds. Not knowing what the others were doing, you nodded your head quietly.

“And we’re all thinking the same thing, I guess,” he added, and you knew he had his head hanging low.

It was Charlie who eventually answered after a long break.

“Fucking racism.”

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #depression #depressed!reader #racisim #drugs #tw drugs #trigger warning #his smile will keep you safe

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Eight

Word Count: 4 117

Within minutes all the crew members had met up in the lobby. Ryan and you had jumped up in disbelieve, and run outside to see if the bus really was missing, and it was. All the others did the same, and by the time the police arrived, the lobby was filled with different emotions, all displayed rather openly.

Luis and Bill were fuming with anger, their heads bright red. Lucas was already on the phone with the label, trying to stay calm. Charlie and you were both rather lost, occasionally shooting each other helpless glances, before focusing on your friends again. Lisa was crying, Jay was angrily rambling, and Dallon and Ryan were standing together in a corner of the room, despair and anger written into their faces.

Slowly you made your way over to them.

“All our stuff is on the bus, all of it,” Ryan exclaimed, “All the instruments, and the speakers and technology; even the laptop with the lightshow and the pre-show music!”

“All we have is the stuff we took in your night bags,” Dallon added.

“And my cam,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you were the only one who still had their equipment.

“What do we do if we don’t get our bus back,” Ryan asked, and you noticed his eyes glimmering with held back tears, “What do we do without our stuff? We can’t afford to just buy everything again!”

“We’re totally screwed, like – beyond imagination screwed,” Dallon shook his head, and a shiver ran down his spine, making him shift uncomfortably.

“But the tour-,” you stuttered, “They won’t stop the tour, will they?”

“We don’t have any of our equipment, how are we supposed to play,” Ryan asked.

He sounded angry, so angry in fact that you subconsciously took a step back, which immediately caused him to look sorry. After all he was not mad at you, he was mad at whoever had taken the bus.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching out his hand for yours, casting his eyes on the floor, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just so…”

“Worked up,” you suggested, and he nodded.

Giving him a small smile, you reached for his hand, which was still outstretched towards you, and linked your fingers with his.

Before anyone had time to add anything to the conversation, the door flung open, and a couple of police officers entered the lobby.

Lucas stepped forward and quickly explained what had happened, making the officers nod. He had already given a description and the number plate of the vehicle while he had been on the phone with the police station, and the police men promised that the bus was already being searched for.

One after the other they read out your names, asking you to separate from the group so they could question all of you.

“Charles Bellete, and William?” The police woman who read out the names looked up from her note pad, “Are you related?”

“Brothers, actually,” Bill explained, and got up from the sofa where he had been sitting.

“You don’t look very much alike,” this came from the officer, who motioned Charlie to follow him.

“What we don’t look alike, our younger twin brothers got double in looking-alikeness,” he joked bitterly, and followed the officer into a back room.

When it was your turn, it was already past two am. You were incredibly tired, and yet shaking anxiously. At first you thought it was the idea to get questioned by the police, but then you realized that it was the possibility of this being the end of your adventure, which upset you beyond words.

The room, in which you were questioned, was a small office without windows. On all sides of the room shelves, filled to the brim with folders, rose up to the ceiling. In the middle stood a small table on which two middle-aged men were waiting for you to sit down.

After you had given your name and date of birth, they started questioning you about your evening, and patiently you explained to them that after you had climbed off the bus, you had gotten your room keys, carried your bag upstairs, and then met with Ryan in the lobby until Lucas came bursting in to tell you the bus had been stolen.

“And did either of you two leave at some point, to use the bathroom for example,” one man asked.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Neither of us left.”

You thought back to how close you had been sitting, how Ryan had practically pulled you into his chest while watching you click through the pictures. If either of you had wanted to get up, it would have meant to interrupt this comfortable moment, and you definitely would have remembered that.

Looking at you for a moment, the police man noted something down, then looked back up at you.

“Are you sure you remember that correctly,” he asked.

You furrowed your brows. “Yes, I am,” you told him, sounding almost salty, “We sat very close the whole time. If either of us had gotten up, I definitely would remember.”

He nodded, seeming to believe you.

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary,” the other man asked.

“You mean, apart from the fans who try to get a glance into the bus at the venue,” you wondered, and gave it a good thought, “I don’t think I saw anything, no.”

“Anyone who behaved differently, anyone who disappeared without a notice?”

You shook your head.

“No, I… I don’t think so, everything was as always,” you shrugged, but then hesitated, “Lisa, who I’m sharing a room with, was not in the room when I dropped my stuff off, but I think she was just hanging out with the others…”

The men nodded, noted something down once more, and stood up.

“Thank you for answering these questions, Miss,” they spoke, “It would be appreciated if you could stay in the hotel, in case we have any other questions.”

“Of course, thank you for your help,” you replied, and stood up as well, shaking their hands, before one of them opened the door for you, and lead you back to the lobby.

You had been one of the last people who had been questioned, and the last one was Lisa. But on your way to the elevator, you noticed Ryan lying stretched out on one of the sofas facing the aquarium.

Hesitating in your steps, you shot him another glance, then you turned on your heels, and walked over to where he was sitting. Lifting his feet up, you sat down, and placed his feet in your lap. Quietly he looked at you. It was easy to tell that he was deep in thought, and yet glad that you were here with him.

For a while you sat in silence, your eyes fixed on the colourful fish that swam around in their perfect, little underwater world. You imagined it had to be quite relaxing, being a fish, since your brain would be so small that there would probably be little space for other thoughts than “Food? Food? Food!”.

These contemplations were interrupted by Ryan pulling his feet out of your lap, and sitting up. He placed his elbows on his knees, and covered his face with his hands, his chin resting against his palm. Worried you looked over at the drummer, who always seemed to be so happy and cheerful. But now his energy was drained, and he looked as lost and helpless as you felt.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he whispered from between his fingers.

You wanted to reach out to him, tell him everything would be alright, hug him, kiss him, and curl yourself into his side to reassure him that the situation was not as bad as it seemed, but you could not. For once, you lacked the confidence to initiate the physical contact, never mind that he maybe did not want it, but also you were just as clueless and worried as him.

So instead of being able to comfort him in anyway, you just sat there in silence. Now, after the first shock had settled, after the disbelieve of what had happened slowly faded, and got replaced by the realization that yes, in fact the bus with all the equipment had really been stolen, you felt like crying. Your chest was all tight, breathing was hard, as if a belt had been wrapped around your middle too tightly, preventing you from taking deep breaths.

In the back of your throat and nose a burning sensation warned you of the tears that flooded your eyes seconds later, and spilled over, yet you made no sound. Instead you sat on the sofa, staring at the aquarium, but not really. For you, the aquarium was not even there, you just stared into the distance.

Having no clue for how long you had been sitting like that, you barely noticed when Ryan started moving again. Only when something warm and heavy fell into your lap, you got startled. Looking down, you were met with Ryan’s warm brown eyes that tiredly stared up at you from where he had laid his head on your thigh.

His blue hair spread out over your trousers, and his skin glimmered in the blue and green light that was shed by the aquarium. His eyes seemed to suck you in, his gaze flickering over your face ceaselessly, as if the answer as how to continue was hidden in your features.

He looked sad and tired, his eyes with every blink staying closed for a little longer than was normal. Not even realizing what you did, you reached a hand into his hair, carefully brushing through the soft strands. You let them glide through your fingers, admiring the smoothness of his colourful hair. Like silk the strands were flowing over your hands, and you could not get enough of watching locks of his hair getting wrapped around your fingers when you gently massaged his sculp.

It felt so right, sitting here with him, so close and peaceful, while the world around you had settled momentarily before breaking into chaos once more as soon as the sun would rise.

You had never believed in fate or destiny, but in these moments, minutes, hours, of holding Ryan, you felt like you were in harmony with the universe, a feeling which was new and foreign to you, nothing you had ever felt with anyone else. And it made you happy, happier than you were able to put into words.

Ryan had been watching your face intently the whole time. He adored the way your eyes fluttered from your hands in his hair, to his eyes, and back, and he was in complete awe of how beautiful you were. Not just now, but always. You had a grace and elegance about you, not obvious maybe, and not always displayed on the outside, but in your character.

The gentle and calm way you combed your fingers through his hair was addicting, the little tucks when you encountered a small knot, the warmth of your hand radiating onto his skin. And even though he wanted to stay awake so desperately, wanted to be able to remember every second of this intimate moment between the two of you, wanted to look at you the whole night, he eventually fell asleep.

~*~

In the morning Ryan and you had been woken by a maid who was vacuuming the lobby. She shot you an apologetic look when you had jumped awake by the sudden noise, and quickly continued doing her job.

The sun had not yet risen outside, the sky had been of a dark purple, but most birds were already singing when Ryan had woken up too, and together you had started walking around the hotel aimlessly, until breakfast.

Afterwards, Lucas had hurried all of the band and crew members to get to the police station, where further statements were collected, and collectively you tried to remember anything out of the ordinary, even if it might have nothing to do with the bus having been stolen.

The peace from the night on the sofa with Ryan was only a faded memory, now that people were running around everywhere, loud talking filled the room, and a tension almost too big to stand hung in the air.

You were nervous, your heart beating hard against your ribs, as if a state of panic would help anyone resolve your situation any sooner. Lucas was constantly on the phone with the label, police officers constantly entered and left the conference room in which they had set you up, and as if the stress was not big enough already, you felt aggression rising between the members of “Three Beats”, as if any of them were to blame for the disappearance of the bus.

You were beyond glad to be able to leave the room in the evening. The still warm, but fresh air helped you to clear your thoughts, and even Jay and Luis who had been close to getting into a physical fight seemed to calm down. Everyone was exhausted from the day, trying to remember every single detail of the evening before, of the constant answering of questions, and especially the uncertainty.

If the bus would not turn up tomorrow, you would be screwed. The day after tomorrow you had to be in the fourteen-hour-drive distant Manchester, and if you did not make it, then tour was as good as over. Lucas had tried to get the label to improvise something, but it was a small label, and they had no equipment they could just send out into the world like that, not to mention the budget to quickly buy instruments for two bands plus the lighting.

After a half-hearted dinner, puzzled together from a quick stop by a supermarket close by, everyone went back to the hotel. Unlike the night before, Ryan and you bid goodbye in the lobby and retreated back to your rooms.

With a sigh you sat down on your bed, and looked around the room. The curtains in front of the window were of thick, green fabric, and through a small gap in them you saw the street lanterns turn on, spreading orange light into the darkness.

Lisa entered the room too, head hanging low, and eyes cast to the floor. Almost instinctively you wanted to ask what was going on, but you stopped yourself. Were you really interested in other people’s problems? Did you not have enough problems of your own? But then again she was a crew member, and having a good relationship with the rest of the team was important to you. And even if she could be annoying sometimes, you cared about her.

“Hey, everything okay,” you asked softly, watching as the blonde girl sunk down on her bed, shaking her head. “Whoa, don’t cry!”

Seeing the glimmering of tears in her eyes, you quickly jumped up and sat down next to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. “What happened?”

“I just- I just don’t know what to do,” she whispered, leaning her head against yours. She smelled of sweet flowers.

Patiently you waited for her to calm down a little, then she started talking. “Jay and I went out a couple of times,” she told you, reminding you of how much in love she had been with him all the time, and how dreamy she had looked whenever she looked at him, “but- I don’t know- it… it was nothing like I imagined, and- I really thought this would be so perfect, but- we just don’t have the chemistry, and he noticed that too- and… and then the bus got stolen, and he said he doesn’t think we’ll work out-“

Her rambling got interrupted by a sob; and your heart broke a little for her. Yes, she had annoyed you sometimes with all the talk about Jay, and then Lars, and men in general. But she did not deserve to be heartbroken like this. She was a kind, young woman with a big heart, and although oblivious and naïve sometimes, she was sweet and caring. She deserved to be happy.

You tightened your embrace, and rubbed little circles into the thin, crème coloured cardigan she wore, trying to calm her down. Of course you could not hug away her sadness, but you could try, and you should be damned if you didn’t.

For a long while you sat on her bed, hugging, and her telling you about the dates she had been on with Jay, and how, even though she had told him she was not interested, Lars continued trying to flirt with her.

During this conversation you started feeling guilty always having escaped the other times she wanted to talk about this. She really felt bad about being in love with Jay but also being fascinated by Lars.

You knew what she meant, how Lars was able to draw people in just by looking at them. That was how you had fallen in love with him back at college, but now, after everything he had done to you back then, the spell on you was broken. Of course Lisa did not know about all the things that had happened to you, so when she started admitting that she was thinking about drowning her sorrows in Lars’s arms, you had to interfere.

“Listen, I know it’s tempting to do that, but please don’t,” you begged her, offering her the bag of crisps you had gotten in the supermarket, and pulled out of your bag several minutes ago. “Hardly anybody on tour knows this, but Lars and I knew each other before we met because of Lucas.”

Lisa, who had by now sat back up straight again, looked at you with wide eyes, pulling out some crisps as if she was watching a thrilling movie.

“We were in college together, were a couple, and he did the exact same thing with me back then, getting my attention, pretending not to notice me, then starting to give me these looks that just… enchant you, you know? They draw you in and let you forget anything else, any risk and argument against being with him.

And when I got together with him, it was heaven, at first. But then he started sucking the life out of me, and he started to use me for what he wanted. In the beginning I though, Hey, this is a relationship, giving and taking, right?

But it wasn’t like that, he wasn’t like that. He just took and took and took, and never gave anything back. He made a thousand mistakes along the way, but just the smallest mistake from my side, and it was the end of the world.

And then he started cheating, and did not see the mistake at his side, just searched excuses why I had made him cheat. And he tore me down, and once I finally broke up with him, it took me ages to recover from all the damage he had done to me, not physical, but mental. And even though I wished he changed, I don’t think he really has.

Remember when he kinda attacked me?” Lisa nodded, still listening with wide eyes, “that sort of behaviour just tells me he still is the same egoistic a- person as he was back then.

And just using him to get over Jay won’t work, because in the end he’ll just make you feel even worse about yourself. I wish it was different, and I won’t tell you not to do whatever you feel like doing, but I advise against it.”

Lisa nodded quietly, crunching on the crisps you were holding out for her.

“I see,” she mumbled, “thank you for being so honest with me.”

For a while you sat in silence, munching on the salty snacks you were holding, before you eventually decided to brush your teeth, and go to bed. When you left the bathroom, Lisa had fallen asleep curled into a tight ball on top of her pillow. Without making a single noise, you tip-toed over to your own bed, crawled underneath the soft blanket, and within seconds you were tight asleep as well.

~*~

After a delicious breakfast, you went to take a cold shower, mentally preparing for the news Lucas would give you undoubtedly this afternoon. Tour was over, without the bus, without the equipment there was no show, and therefore no tour. You would have to go home, all of you, and this exciting adventure into the big, wide world, even it if was “only” the US, would be over far earlier than you had expected.

While cold water ran over your shoulder and back, you realized just how angry and sad it made you. Without a doubt you had learned a lot in the last weeks, how to stand up for yourself against people, specifically Lars, who once had hurt you, how it was possible to make such a huge thing work with complete strangers, and how to fall in love without being constantly scared.

Because you were in love, of course you were in love, and now the only thing that scared you was being separated from Ryan before you had found the confidence to admit it to him. And it was too early for that, you felt like you were not even sure of your own feelings yet, and you needed to be sure before you told anyone, most of all Ryan, about this.

Maybe you could exchange numbers, so you could stay in contact? From what you understood, he was living in Salt Lake City too, so it probably was within the reach of possibility that he might like to meet up with you again.

You thought back to the night in the lobby, the way he had looked at you, and your heart jumped a little in your chest, realizing that maybe, maybe there really was a chance that this was not too impossible.

After you had finished packing your things, you shouldered your bag, and made your way down the stairs towards the lobby. Deep in thoughts you did not notice the tumult that was going on downstairs until the door to the stairwell flew open right in front of you, and Bill almost bumped into you.

Confused you stared up at the man, who seemed to be buzzing with excitement. Before you even had the chance to ask what was going on, he wrapped you in a quick, but strong hug.

“The bus is back,” he cheered, pulling away and taking your face between his hands, “the bus is back!”

And with that he drew away, and ran up the stairs.

The bus was back?

Even more confused, you entered the lobby, where Lucas was once again on his phone, Jay and Luis were excitedly discussing something, and Charlie stood at the window, looking outside, smiling brightly.

Joining the bassist, you glanced out of the window as well, and a wave of disbelief hit you as you realized that yes, in fact the bus was back. The silver-grey vehicle stood outside, parked at the side of the street as if had been standing there since the dawn of time.

“It’s all there,” Charlie mumbled fascinated, not being able to take his eyes off of the returned bus. “Lucas and Bill checked. All the instruments and devices, and all the equipment are still there, even our personal belongings.”

He looked at you wide eyed, and grinned.

“I’m tempted to believe in a higher force,” he giggled.

Relieved you let out a breath. Even though the question why the bus, without anything missing, had been returned to you without an explanation, settled into the back of your mind, you were swept of your feet by the euphoria it caused you, and when Ryan entered the lobby a few minutes later, you ran over to him, excitedly hugging the drummer, who returned the hug without hesitation, burying his nose in your neck.

After the police had searched the bus for fingerprints and DNA, finding neither, and after questioning everybody once again, it was almost five pm before you were allowed back on the bus. They police promised to continue their investigation, but finally gave green light for the crew to continue their journey, and after two and a half days of devastation and fear that this beautiful experience might be over, the wheels of the bus finally started moving again, carrying the crew towards Manchester, so the next show could be prepared just in time.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman angst #fanfiction #fanfic #mulit chapter #ryan seaman multi chapter story #his smile will keep you safe

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Epilogue

Word Count: 469

The rolls of your suitcase rattled over the pavement as you hurried down the street.

“Come on, hurry up,” you encouraged the man behind you, “we’re late already!”

“I’m literally one half of the band, sweetie, they’ll not take off without us,” Ryan assured, catching up with you, and taking your free hand in his.

“I wish I had your confidence, you know how Lucas is. I’d not be surprised, if they took off, and asked us to take the train, or something,” you shook your head.

Ryan giggled.

“See, they’re still there,” he pointed to the bus that got into sight as you rounded the last corner.

“There you are,” Bill pocked his head out of the still open door. “Lucas was about to have you take the train!”

“Told you so,” you laughed, and handed Bill your suitcase, which he helped lifting into the bus.

“Okay, I admit it, next time we should be more on time,” Ryan laughed, allowing you to help you with his suit case as well.

“They’re here,” Bill shouted to the front, where Lucas was sitting behind the wheel already.

“About time,” he growled, and started driving, not waiting for Ryan or you to settle down.

“We? You were the one who pushed snooze like- ten times,” you laughed, gently pretending to punch Ryan’s arm.

“You weren’t complaining about the additional cuddles though,” he defended.

“Okay, so in other news, let’s not push that snooze button anymore, and let’s find better times for snuggles than the morning of take-off for the new tour,” you summarized, making Ryan nod.

“Is the couple already fighting,” Dallon asked, poking his head out from behind the curtains to the bunk bed area. “The new opening band and the two new crew members won’t even know what’s happening!”

“You wish we were fighting,” Ryan laughed, poking his tongue out at his friend who frowned.

“Ew, rather not, the last time you weren’t taking to her felt, it like you were causing the apocalypse simply because of your mood!”

Giggly, Dallon disappeared behind the curtain again, just in time to escape the pullover you had taken off in the meantime, and had thrown at him.

“So, what now, settling in,” you asked, pretending the pullover incident had never happened.

“How about a ‘welcome to tour as our forever-photograph’-kiss first?”

“Dunno, do I also get like… a certificate?”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“No, certificates are only given to exceptionally good kiss receivers, but you might actually have a chance with that category,” he joked.

You squeezed your eyes at him, making him laugh.

“Whatever,” you decided, and pulled him in for a kiss, which took him by surprise, but he quickly responded by wrapping you in his arms, the way he knew you loved so much. “Welcome to tour.”

A/N: Now you may kill me

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #his smile will keep you safe #epilogue

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Twelve

Warnings: racism, drugs, angst, anxiety, extensive swearing, mention of depression

Word Count: 3 706

The show in Cincinnati was not featuring the „Three Beats“. After Jay’s arrest, both Charlie and Luis were too shaken up, and without their guitarist and lead singer they were helpless anyway.

At the end of the free day, which Lucas had spent entirely at the police station, the crew heavy heartedly climbed onto the rented vans, and drove to Cincinnati. Leaving Jay behind felt wrong, but there was nothing any of you could have done for him.

Luis and Charlie asked for your help to film a short video, in which they announced that they would not be able to play the remaining two shows, because “Jay’s had an incident in the family”. It was not difficult to tell that they both were suffering from the accusations against their friend, the whole team suffered, but nobody knew how to help.

Lucas had offered them to go back home, but they had insisted that they wanted to finish the tour properly, and since there were only two days left, nobody complained. Honestly, you had the feeling that neither of the two of them wanted to be left alone with their emotions right now, and this way you had some company during the times when Dallon and Ryan were out giving interviews.

You reached Indianapolis around noon, after you had spent the night in Cincinnati. When the tour had started, you had imagined that everyone would be happy and cheerful on the last day, celebrating that the tour was successfully over, but with how things were, there was nothing to celebrate, and everybody felt far from cheerful.

You had trouble getting up that morning again, but you kept it to yourself. It was the last day, and you did not want to worry anybody with your problems. There still were no news of Jay, and by now you had given up hope on receiving any. The venue in Indianapolis was bigger than any others before, and featured an impressively big stage.

As soon as you had arrived, you searched for a corner with a power outlet, and plugged your computer in, starting to edit the pictures that still were left. This managed to draw your attention away from the dark thoughts circling your mind. At least until the first picture of Ryan appeared on your screen. Completely dumbfounded you stared at the shot, admiring the way his hair was flying around his head while he was drumming, and the dreamy expression on his face.

You assumed he was able to escape reality for a while when he was playing, and even though last night had features far too few smiles from him, it probably had been a nice distraction. But then you remembered that he still was not talking to you. Again, like so many times during the past two weeks, you felt your heart shatter at the thought that he probably did not want anything to do with you. The cause was still a mystery to you, but you had accepted it.

But that still did not change the way you felt about him. It had occurred to you several weeks ago that you were falling in love with him, but by now you almost would go as far as saying that you loved him. And no matter what he thought about you, you wanted him to know.

Still staring at the photograph of Ryan, you made a decision. Since tonight was the last night of tour, you would tell him. You would tell him how you felt, because if he did not like it, did not feel the same, behaved weirdly, or things turned out badly in any other way, you never had to see him again. And in the unlikely case of him not turning you down, you could figure out what to do.

The flow of your bubbling emotions was interrupted by Bill, who suddenly stood in front of you.

“Do you have time,” he asked, looking down to you sitting on the floor.

“Sure, what’s up,” you nodded, thinking it was about unloading equipment.

“We got a call from the label, and they want you to take some last pictures of Ryan and Dallon, like a small shooting. Some of them together, and then them individually. Could you do that?”

Closing your laptop, you nodded, and got up from the floor, picking everything up along the way.

“I’ll just get my camera.”

Dallon was waiting in a room backstage, which, much to your surprise and joy, actually featured three different lamps for creating the perfect lighting to take pictures. Since Ryan was not there yet, you started with a couple of pictures of Dallon.

The room had a broad sofa in front of a wall, plastered with multiple posters, all supposedly from the most famous bands that had played this venue. A small table next to the sofa with some little knickknacks added detail to the scene, and so did the shelf, which was hung over the table, filled with books and a plant that had their branches reaching downwards.

It was interesting to use the light sources you had the chance to use, trying out the different effects it had on the mood of the pictures. Of course you had done this in college, and you had taken Lisa’s portraits some time back, but these lights offered new possibilities.

Most of the time, you were working in silence. You were focused on how to stage the scene, and Dallon seemed to be in deep thought.

Since Ryan had told him what had happened, he could not quite stop thinking about it. It pained him to know his friend was heartbroken, and it was not hard to guess that you were too. But Ryan had made him swear that he would not mention anything to you, and he was a man of his word, at least until tonight. If things should not have magically cleared up by then, he would not hesitate to tell you everything Ryan had told him, and convince you to talk to the drummer. Hell, if he had to, he would drag Ryan to you, explain everything and then lock you two in a room together until you had made up, or out, whichever would happen first.

By the time Ryan finally found you, you had taken tons of pictures of Dallon already, but also figured out your favourite lighting. You thought, having the pictures for the label all taken in the same scene would be the most coherent, so after you had finished the ones of Dallon, you quickly took a couple of shots of the two of them together.

After you had taken a couple of snaps from different positions, you announced that Dallon was done, and you only needed to photograph Ryan now. For some reason you had expected Dallon to stay, and even if only so the atmosphere would not get to weird between Ryan and you, but he got up, and almost immediately left the room.

Biting you lip, and ignoring the hammering heart in your chest, you looked over at Ryan, who was watching you closely.

“I’ll be quick,” you promised, and started kneeling down on the carpet in front of the sofa, already having a good idea of what you wanted the pictures to look like.

Ryan was staring at you, trying to soak in every second you were in his company. Damn, you were perfect; the shade of your hair, such smooth skin, and the shirt that was the perfect middle between tight and loose on your body.

Part of him still refused to believe that Lars had told him the truth, refused to believe that you had only been playing him, that he was letting you slip through his fingers. But he was so scared, so scared that what Lars had told him was true. And as he had told Dallon, he did not know if he could handle knowing for sure that all of the affection you had shown him had been faked.

So instead he watched you, the way your fingers skilfully moved over the filigree mechanics of the camera, how strands of your hair shifted on your head when you moved, and the small glances you took to look between the camera screen and him. He could have sat here forever, imagining all your attention was focused on him, and him alone.

How much he wanted to be the only thing you could think about! Of course he knew that in reality you were working on getting a picture done, and he just happened to be in the picture by accident, but the little fantasy was too sweet to let go like that.

Ryan seemed zoned out while you were working. It was hard focusing on getting the perfect angle, one that looked artistic, but not too weird, when all you really wanted to do was to capture every single detail, each little imperfection of his face, every tiny dent in his lips.

If he still refused to talk to you, if you really had to part with him after tonight, you wanted to have pictures to remember him by, and you wanted them to be as detailed as possible, so you could study his face in the photographs the way you would have done in real life, until the pain was over. But you resisted the urge to take close ups, feeling it would not only be really creepy, but also overstepping your boundaries.

“We’re done,” you eventually decided, getting up from the floor where you had been kneeling in the end.

Ryan flinched, as if he had gotten jump scared by your voice, but shot you a small smile.

“Thanks,” he whispered, getting up from that sofa.

This was already more interaction than you had expected, so trying your luck, just in case, you tried to start a conversation.

“Looking forward to going home?”

He shrugged.

“I really like touring,” he answered, while his mind added, and I really love touring with you, but he did not say it out loud, “and honestly I just want this nightmare to be over. First the bus, then the drugs, and the thing with Jay…”

“Me too,” you agreed, turning off your camera and putting the cap in front of the lens.

“Any plans for when you get home?”

Does lying in bed and cry about you count as a plan, you wondered in your mind.

“Not really, maybe visiting my family,” you replied instead, “I miss them.”

“How’ve you been, mentally wise, I mean?”

Ryan’s sudden interest irritated you, but you were definitely not going to complain.

“I don’t know, not so great since Jay,” you admitted.

You could feel Ryan’s eyes on your face as you looked down to the floor, feeling ashamed for how your mind affected you, even though there was no reason to be ashamed for it. To your surprise you saw his feet shuffling into your vision, and suddenly his warm hands brushed against yours, which were still holding the camera that was dangling from your neck.

“It’s gonna be alright, I promise,” Ryan whispered into your ear. He had bent down so his head was right next to yours, his nose almost brushing your hair, and his breath fanning over your skin.

You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him in that second, to burry your face in his shoulders, and let his shirt soak up the hot tears that were stinging in your eyes. You wanted to feel him close, to hold him like your life depended on it, and if he rejected that, then so be it, and you could close the chapter.

Having the feeling that maybe he would not back away, you pulled your hands out from under his and were about to wrap them around him, his arms already moving to reach for your waist to pull you closer, when just in that moment the door jumped open, and Lars walked in.

“(Y/n), Lucas needs you,” he announced, shooting Ryan a strange look, which you could not help but notice.

Hesitantly you stepped away from Ryan, wondering if this had been the last chance you would ever get with him, and walked out of the room, your hand brushing against Ryan’s a last time, suddenly picking up on an unfamiliar tension which seemed to build up between the two males who were staring at each other in an almost challenging manner.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you left. You had made it already half-way over the dance floor towards the bar where Lucas was waiting, when suddenly, without any reason or cause something clicked together. It felt like two puzzle pieces getting connected, and everything made sense.

Ryan had not suddenly grown distant because of something you had said or done, or because he had decided out of the blue that he did not want anything to do with you. He had distanced himself because of Lars. There was no doubt in your mind that Lars had said something to Ryan, which had caused him to behave this weirdly.

What had he told him? That he should keep his hands away from you? Had he made up some lie about you not liking Ryan? From how you knew Lars, it was not even out of the range of possibilities that he had said you just wanted to make Lars jealous to get him back by pretending to like Ryan.

That asshole! He had caused you two weeks of misery just because he was not able to accept that you had moved on from him? Of course this was just a theory, but it fit perfectly, it explained everything. And you needed to confirm or deny this immediately; no matter if it was with Ryan or Lars, you needed to know.

You had stopped in the middle of the room, and Lucas was already waving you over, but you turned around on your heels, and ran back to where you had come from, rather inelegant, but effectively quick.

Rage was bubbling in your chest as you stormed back to the room where you had taken the pictures. You did not even know what exactly you were going to say, but you knew it would not be pretty. Except that when you pushed open the door, the room was empty. The lamps had been turned off, and with the little light that fell in from the corridor, you saw that both men had left the room.

Standing there for a moment, you considered what to do, but eventually decided to go back to Lucas, and talk to either of them later.

Lucas had just finished explaining what kind of pictures he had in mind for the night, something which he had rarely done before, when the door to the venue opened, and a hand full of people entered.

The three men and two women were wearing what looked like button-up shirts and suit trousers, but on top they wore bulletproof vests, with the three yellow letters, spelling out DEA.

Lucas and you, along with Bill, Charlie and Luis, who also had hung out in the bar, immediately straightened. If the Drug Enforcement Administration was here, this was definitely about what Ryan and Dallon had found on the bus. Before anyone managed to open their mouth to ask about Jay, the man in the front started talking.

“We’re looking for Kathrin Lewis,” he spoke, making everyone share confused looks.

“Who?”

The man pulled out a photo, and handed it to Lucas, who was standing closest.

“We were told she’s one of your tour members,” the DEA officer explained.

Getting on your tiptoes, you spied over Lucas’ shoulder to see what the picture was showing. It was obviously a mugshot, like the ones you saw in movies, in front of a wall with height markings. The person in the picture was pale, purple circles under the eyes, and un-brushed, tousled hair. But you recognized the face anyway. Familiar brown eyes stared up at you, except for that in this picture they were filled with hatred, not girlish cheerfulness.

“Do you know her?”

The brothers and Luis also stepped closer to take a look.

“Yeah, yeah of course, but her name isn’t Kathrin Lewis,” Lucas muttered, handing the picture to Charlie, who took a sharp breath as he recognized the girl, “It’s Lisa Roberts.”

“We already assumed she’d be using a different name, where can we find her,” the officer asked.

You barely heard the conversation going on. Blood was rushing in your ears, and you started to feel dizzy. Were they accusing Lisa of having placed the drugs on the bus? Why did they have a mugshot of her? This had to be a mistake!

Bill offered to lead four of the officers to the van, where he had last seen Lisa. With shaking knees you sat down. The officer who had stayed behind with the rest of the team in the bar, shot you a concerned glance, but you ignored it.

This was crazy. First they accused Jay and arrested him, then the stuff with Ryan, and Lars’s most likely involvement, and now they were after Lisa? You never had believed for a second that Jay was responsible, but somehow you were not quite as certain about this when you thought about Lisa. And they had a mugshot of her, which proofed that she had been in trouble with the law before.

Half a minute later, voices grew loud outside. The officer turned towards the door, everyone’s eyes following him, before Charlie walked over to peek outside. Luis and Lucas followed him, and so did the officer, so you got up as well to see what the turmoil was all about.

The scene outside was shocking, but not because it was very brutal, but because it was against anything you had ever expected to see Lisa like.

Two of the DEA officers had grabbed her by the upper arms, her hands cuffed behind her back, while she struggled and screamed, trying to wriggle out of the strong grasps of their hands. Most of the time her feet were not even touching the ground, and the girl you had always experienced as sweet and a little childish, and cute and caring, all of a sudden had turned into what people in the middle ages would probably have described as demonic possession.

She screamed obscenities, half of which you did not even know what they meant, while her eyes were shooting flashes of mad rage. All of a sudden the girl in front of you resembled the girl in the picture, which you had been shown, a lot more than the image of her in your mind.

When the officers lead her past the door, she managed to get them to halt shortly.

“You’re a fucking fool, you ass-eating motherfucker,” she hollered, and spit directly into Lucas’ face.

“And you!” All of a sudden she turned to look at you, while the men continued dragging her towards their van, “Your fucking ex is the worst piece of shit on this fucking planet, and you deserve each other! I’ve never been more disgusted by a human being than by him, and that just because you are a fucking-“

The rest of her screams were muffled by the doors of the DEA’s van slamming shut, leaving all of you star struck. Looking down the street you could see Dallon and Ryan, who had witnessed the scene as well, and Lars and Bill were standing next to the bus.

“Well, that was ugly,” the officer, who was still standing by you, sighed, handing Lucas a tissue with which he wiped of the spit, “I guess you would like to know what happened.”

The officer was so nice to stay and explain why they had taken Lisa.

As it turned out, her real name was Kathrin Lewis. She had been arrested for the dealing and smuggling of drugs several times, but never been prosecuted, because of lack of evidence. But when the police who had confiscated the bus, had handed the case over to the DEA, the DEA’s laboratory had found tons and tons of Lisa’s fingerprints all over the drug packages, as well as on the inside of the plastic in the seats.

Later she confessed that it had also been her, who had helped in stealing the bus. She had stolen Lucas’ keys, copied them, slipped them back to Lucas, and handed the copies to the men who had helped her. These men had stolen the bus, and then later, together with her help, hidden the drugs. After that, the bus had gotten returned so they could smuggle the drugs from one state into the next.

Ryan and Dallon had probably only discovered the hiding place, because the fabric had not been sewn shut very probably and the seams had ripped when they had been play fighting.

After everyone had taken in the news, the officer ended with a good message though.

“The city police will drop of your colleague, who I believe has been wrongfully accused and arrested,” he told the team before he left.

And sure enough, five minutes later, Jay walked in. He looked tired, but he beamed with happiness when he saw his friends, and immediately the whole crew stormed over to him, wrapping him in hugs and pats on the shoulder. There was laughter and too many questions to understand a single one of them, but now he was back and this was how it was supposed to be. Slowly the world balanced itself again, and the only remaining problem was the situation with Ryan.

But that had to wait, since now the crew was missing someone for selling the merch. So while Jay, Luis and Charlie did a quick announcement that they would in fact play this last show on tour, you helped Lucas and Bill make signs that announced merch would only be sold before and after each band, which would be your job, so you could take pictures during the time they were playing.

And so the last concert of tour kicked off.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman angst #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #fanfiction #fanfic #his smile will keep you safe #angst

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His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Ten

Word Count: 3 051

After the disastrous concert followed a total of four days without any shows or interviews, meaning there was loads of time for everyone to relax a little.

Dallon had taken the first flight in the morning, going home to see his family. While Lisa and you decided to accompany Bill and Lucas to the next destination, Baldwinsville, everybody else took off into different directions, visiting friends or family.

It was strange, being only four people on the bus, and you caught yourself thinking that you already missed Ryan, who took the free time to visit a distant relative, and a couple of friends in the area. But you pushed the thought aside as soon as you had climbed out of the bus in front of the new hotel.

Lisa and you were sharing a room again, as so many times before, and you decided to use the time to bond a little more. After all, you were the only two women on the crew, meaning you had to stick together, even though tour would soon be over.

The first days you spent wandering around the city, exploring whatever there was to see. You took long walks in little forests, and talked about anything that came to mind. Retrospectively you almost felt ashamed for having thought Lisa to be a little shallow sometimes, because the better you got to know her, the more she revealed of the complex personality she had. It fascinated you, listening to the stories she told you of her childhood, and you enjoyed discussing philosophical problems with her.

While she spent most of the time on your trips looking at things closely, you did the same through the lens of your camera. It was fun to try out photographing in nature again, which you had not done since college, and when Lisa randomly mentioned over dinner that she had worked as a model during high school, you had an amazing idea.

The next day was spent searching places all over town, in front of which you took pictures of the young girl. Of course these were not the usual “look everybody, I am a tourist”-photographs. Far more they were delicately chosen angles that allowed you to play with the natural light, the stream of the soft wind as well as fore- and background.

Lisa was wearing a flowing white dress with small pink flowers scattered all over the fabric, her long blonde hair effortlessly falling over her shoulders in gentle waves, and tiny freckles added an interesting factor. It had been years since you had taken portraits, but you found that you remembered surprisingly much from college. In the evening you got cheap fairy lights in a dollar store, and once the daylight had faded, you continued playing around with the camera back at the hotel.

One of your favourite shots of that day was Lisa, sitting on her bed, the windows in the background looking out over the city. She held the lights in the palm of her hand so that the small light sources themselves were invisible to the camera, but soft, orange light spread from her hands over her face, making her brown eyes glow warmly, and her delicate skin glimmer mysteriously.

After the extensive photo session, both of you decided to settle in a park close to the hotel the next day, where you edited the pictures together. Since without Lisa these pictures would not have been possible, you asked her for opinions concerning the colours and contrast for every picture, slowly but surely creating the perfect mixture between your two styles.

In the afternoon you walked over a small market of craftwork, where you bumped into Charlie, who was looking at some jewellery.

“Isn’t that Charlie over there,” Lisa asked excitedly, tucking your arm.

You turned to see who she was pointing at, but she had already started dragging you towards the man, who indeed turned out to be the bassist.

“Charlie, hey,” Lisa cheered, and Charlie grinned, giving both of you quick hugs.

“Hey guys, what are you doing out here,” he asked.

“Just looking around, and you,” you replied, your eyes scanning over the display of rings he was standing in front of.

“Oh! Are you buying a ring for your girlfriend,” Lisa asked excited, already eyeing the rings curiously as if she could find out what kind of girl he was dating by looking at the jewellery.

“No, I- I don’t have a girlfriend,” Charlie laughed.

Your eyes flickered over the display again, and suddenly you noticed the musician fidgeting around with his hands. Was he nervous? The rings he was standing in front of were not for women, but judging by the thickness and designs, made for men. Actually they reminded you more of Luis’s style than of Charlie’s. Was he embarrassed that you had caught him buying a ring for himself?

Whatever it was, he did not seem very comfortable in his own skin, so you decided to do him a favour and distract Lisa, who seemed not to have heard the last sentence since she was already gushing over a small ring with a rose crystal that she insisted would look very nice on his girlfriend, whoever she was.

In the end you caught Lisa’s attention by suggesting going for a coffee, and almost immediately she had forgotten Charlie’s inexistent girlfriend, and together the two of you went to search for the nearest café, leaving Charlie with a thankful smile, before he turned back to the display of rings.

~*~

While Lisa and you were still out Ryan and Dallon had arrived at the hotel almost at the same time. Lucas had accompanied them to their room, where they had discussed the details for the next two weeks. Lucas was just about to leave the room, when Ryan took the courage and decided he needed to ask for something which he had been thinking about for the past weeks, but especially these last four days.

“Hey, one more thing,” he stopped the tour manager from leaving, “I was wondering… what does the label think about (y/n)’s work?”

Both Lucas and Dallon turned to Ryan, surprised by his question. Lucas let go of the door handle he had already been holding, and gave Dallon a short look before answering.

“They’re very happy with her work, why do you ask?”

Ryan felt nervous, as he uttered the next words, but he knew that it was important, that he had to at least try, no matter what the others thought of him.

“I mean… I guess we all really get along with her, don’t we? And she takes the most incredible pictures, obviously, so I was thinking, maybe, if the label is okay, we could ask her to be- you know- our regular tour photographer, so she can always go on tour with us?”

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest but he did not care. Instead he looked over to Lucas carefully who had furrowed his eyebrows in a considering manner.

“I think it’s really funny that you suggest that,” he eventually spoke up, “It was supposed to be a surprise for you, and I wanted to ask her first, but the label already suggested the exact same thing.”

To say that Ryan’s chin dropped would have been a very accurate description of his reaction. He felt like a barrel of fireworks had erupted in his stomach, and he grinned widely.

“Did she say yes,” he asked immediately, having a hard time containing the excitement.

“I haven’t asked her yet, I’d like to wait with that until tour is over,” Lucas explained, “But if you like, why don’t you suggest it to her, after the last show?”

Ryan nodded happily, already starting to make up sentences with which he might be able to tell her the great news. Dallon had witnessed the exchange with a sly smile on his lips. Ryan really had fallen head over heels for the young photographer, and Dallon loved watching the two of you slowly but surely realising the romantic feelings you were harbouring for each other.

~*~

Buffalo was rather cool and rainy this time of year, but nobody in the crew seemed to care. It was about six pm, still two hours until the show would start, and you had settled down comfortably on one of the sofas in the changing room of the bands. Ryan was sitting closely next to you.

After having been apart for four days, it seemed your bond had only grown stronger, and almost nothing was able to separate you. He had flung his arm across the back rest, therefore almost wrapping it around your shoulders, and you were sitting turned towards him, gesticulating wildly as you told him about the time that the bus, which was supposed to get you and your class to a trip, had crashed only fifteen miles outside of Salt Lake City.

Ryan tried to listen to your story as good as possible but found himself distracted again and again by the way you smiled and talked with such enthusiasm. In the flickering light of the bare light bulb that dangled from the ceiling, your eyes glowed with passion, and he smiled, merely thinking about potentially getting to go on so many more tours with you.

Your passionate rant was interrupted by the door flying open. Lars came walking in the room, and shot the two of you a glance before he spoke.

“Lucas needs you, (y/n),” he declared.

The happy smile faded from your face, and your lips pulled into an apologetic one.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, and quickly got up, but not without gently running your fingers over Ryan’s shoulder before you left the room.

Ryan sight quietly. As soon as you were away from his side the world seemed boring and dull to him. Stretching his arms over his head, he leant back into the cushions of the sofa, and took a deep breath before letting his arms fall back to his side. Looking up, he found Lars was still standing in the room, staring at him.

“You know she’s only using you, right,” Lars asked, making Ryan furrow his brows.

“Who?”

“(y/n), obviously. She’s using you.”

A chuckle escaped Ryan’s lips, and he shook his head in amusement.

“Nah, I don’t think so mate. I’ve seen girls who tried to use me, she isn’t one of them.”

“Not to get famous or anything,” Lars disagreed, “She’s trying to make me jealous.”

Ryan’s smile slightly faltered, but he tried not to admit it.

“Come on, think about it, man,” Lars tried to explain, and walked a few steps closer, “We’ve been together before. It’s fate that we ended up on the same tour. And she still is into me, I can tell. She’s only spending time with you to make me jealous, to pretend like she moved on from me.”

“And you’re getting her hopes up,” Ryan challenged.

He did not want to believe the other man’s words, but something inside of him started clinging to the idea that he should have known everything was too good to be true.

“Of course I’ll take her back, don’t worry,” Lars chuckled, as if this was what Ryan wanted to hear, “But it was her who dumped me back then, and now I want her to suffer a little before I relief her of her struggles.”

Ryan just stared at Lars. He could not possibly be telling the truth, could he?

“Just think about it man,” Lars insisted, walking towards the door, “She’s not really into you, it’s just a game for her. She’s not the cute innocent girl you want her to be. She’s just fooling you.”

And with these words he walked out of the room, leaving Ryan spiralling down into a circle of worries.

Of course it made sense that you wanted to get back with Lars. He was attractive, tall, clever, and you two shared a past, a past and memories Ryan had not with you. Lars had a self-confidence about him, which probably made him even more attractive, a kind of indifference, that made it hard to tell if he cared about someone or not. And you probably loved to challenge that.

And even if you were not intending to get back together with Lars, how had Ryan even so stupid to believe for one moment that you could have some genuine interest in him?

He was not exceptional in any way. He had blue hair, great, so he was thirsting for attention. He played drums, always hiding behind his set, he had ordinary brown eyes, was neither very intelligent, nor funny, nor attractive, and to make everything even worse, he was a nerd who played in a band which’s name was the quote of one of his favourite geeky movies. Not childish at all. Oh, and he was completely obsessed with not only multiple different movies and tv-series, including the Back to the Future movies, but also with bands, like Green Day, and the Beatles. Not to mention that this was one cluster-fuck of a strange mix, it made him feel like a twelve year old boy again.

He almost felt ashamed for the things he liked, but only almost. He liked these things for a reason, and they had all been a big part of the person he had become. But the person he had become was not somebody that someone as perfect and funny, and talented, as you could ever fall in love with.

And knowing that he had honestly though that you had, that was what he felt ashamed about, so ashamed in fact, that he had to forcefully wipe away the tears of anger and disappointment, when Dallon entered the room a couple of minutes later, searching for his backpack.

~*~

It was around noon of the next day when you eventually noticed that Ryan behaved strangely around you. After packing up after the show the previous day, everyone had gone to bed quickly, and after a quick breakfast at the hotel, you had climbed on the bus without exchanging many pleasantries with anyone.

But during the drive to South Burlington, you found that Ryan avoided looking at you, not to mention that he had not even spoken a single word with you so far. Sitting on one of the benches by the table in the tiny kitchen, you watched him sitting on the sofa. He was staring into the distance, not paying any attention towards the game of cards that the others had started around him.

Concerned you noticed how tired he looked. Deep dark circles were under his eyes, his skin looked exceptionally pale, and the fragile rim of skin around his eyes was pink, as if his eyes were watering all the time.

He seemed to have noticed your inquisitive look, because he looked up but as soon as his eyes meet yours, he turned away, looking out of the window. Perhaps he had just had a bad night, was tired, and did not feel up to any socializing, you thought to yourself, so you decided not disturb him, in order for him to be able to relax.

But his behaviour had not changed the next day either. The past times he had often sat next to you, watching you editing countless pictures, but not today. You felt hurt, but told yourself that you could expect of nobody to sit and watch you work for hours on end.

But even during lunch break and before the show he avoided you. Things even went as far that he left the changing room every time as soon as you entered.

And that was when you really started to worry.

By now it was not just an accident anymore, or a coincidence. Not even the different excuses you had made up in your mind did stand any of his behaviour, and by the end of the day you had to admit to yourself, that Ryan was in fact going to great lengths to avoid you.

This obviously posed the question of the why. Had it been something you had said, or done? Had he felt like after the night in the hotel, cuddled together, that you were not what he wanted in his life after all? Had that night made him feel uncomfortable? But the days after, even after the short break, he had seemed absolutely fine; he had even sought out your company actively!

So what had happened since Sunday that had turned his behaviour around by 180 degrees? What confused you even further was that he made no move to try to clear things up with you. During the past weeks he had always seemed like he was a person who rather solved a problem, even if it was uncomfortable, then to leave it eating away at him, at everybody. Had you given off the impression that you were not open to an honest, even if criticizing, conversation?

All of these questions piled up in your head, which caused you to come to the obvious conclusion that if he refused to talk to you, you had to talk to him.

Which turned out to be a lot more difficult than it sounded. For two days straight he managed to always either slip away as soon as you seemed to have him cornered, or he found somebody to distract you with, some convenient “Lucas needs me”-s, and quickly started conversations with anybody else. Which taught you one thing for certain: he avoided talking to you at all cost, and there was nothing you could do against it.

So, with heavy, broken heart you decided to lay low for a while. If you stopped chasing him, maybe he would stop running, and eventually try to explain what the hell was going on.

Of course you had not the faintest idea that Lars, who was watching both of you very closely, was secretly having a blast. If he did not get to have you, then so should neither anybody else. And who knew, maybe your heartbreak would eventually drive you back into his arms.

But that somebody could be this malicious would not have occurred to you in your wildest dreams.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter story #multi chapter #fanfiction #fanfic #his smile will keep you safe

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His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Seven

Warnings: graphic description of symptoms of depression and panic attacks

Word Count: 5 260

The next day started out slow. To prepare the show, you had to be at the venue around noon, so using the time in the morning, everyone slept in, had a late breakfast, and took some time for themselves.

Technically you still had to edit the pictures of the past two days, but you decided that if you did this now, there would be nothing to do while the others were working in the venue. Usually you loved spending some time alone, but after having been constantly surrounded by people for the past weeks, being alone suddenly made you feel nervous.

Charlie and Luis had gone out for breakfast, probably in a small café, and other than them, nobody had shared your room. So, searching for some company, you stepped out into the corridor. At the end of it, by a small window, Lucas was on the phone with somebody, discussing details for an upcoming radio interview that Dallon and Ryan would have to do.

Turning the other way, you strode past closed doors, trying to remember Lisa’s room number, when suddenly the fragments of a melody made you stop in your tracks. You listened more closely to what sounded like an electric guitar, or bass, being played without the amps, making the song sound flat and quiet. Turning to see the room number, you recalled that this was the room Dallon and Ryan shared.

The door was open a little, so you knocked, expecting Dallon to answer, but instead it was Ryan. Pushing the door open further, you found the drummer sitting on a stool by the table, Dallon’s white bass in his lap, the black strap hanging over his shoulders.

When he saw you, he smiled brightly, and got up.

“(y/n), hey,” he greeted, “what’s up?”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, I thought it was Dallon playing,” you apologized.

“No, he’s out with Bill, checking out the music store down the street,” he explained.

“So… you’re practicing,” you asked, and immediately wanted to punch yourself. Of course he was practicing.

“Yeah, just wanted to get back into it a little,” Ryan shrugged, “has been ages since I last played the bass properly.”

You nodded, thinking that he probably wanted to be left alone, but just when you were about to announce that you would leave, he spoke up again.

“If you like, I can show you some things,” he offered, suddenly seeming a little shy.

“Ahm, sure, if that’s okay for you,” you answered.

Hesitantly you stepped into the room, and closed the door. Ryan stood up from the stool, and motioned for you to sit down.

“Have you ever played the bass?”

You shook your head no.

“I had some piano lessons when I was in school, but that’s about as much musical understanding as I have,” you admitted, making Ryan giggle.

“That’s fine, don’t worry.”

He took off the bass, and handed it to you, so the headstock was pointing left. Carefully he helped you put on the strap; then he knelt down in front of you, gesturing you to sit down.

“So, as you can probably guess, these are the stings,” he explained.

“Oh really,” you asked wide eyed, the sarcasm in your voice causing Ryan to laugh.

“Yes, really,” he answered, trying to stay serious, “E-string, A-string, D-string, and G-string.” One after the other he plucked the strings from the furthest one up, to the one in the bottom, which sounded the highest, “and these are called frets.”

He pointed to the small silver lines on the neck of the bass.

“This is the first fret, second fret,” he placed his fingers on the fret closest to the head, then let it wander down to the second, “third, and so on. The further down you place your finger, the short the string gets,” he pushed his finger down on the G-string on the second fret and plugged the string, “and as you probably know, the shorter the string, the higher the sound. Same goes for the piano too.”

You nodded, this much you remembered.

“Okay, cool. So let’s try to play something. Any suggestions?”

For a moment you searched your brain for any song that you would like to play, but it felt as if all of the music you had ever know had suddenly disappeared from your brain, and all you could really think about was the way Ryan was sitting on the floor in front of you, his beautiful brown eyes staring up at you expectantly.

“Can we play something from you guys,” you asked, finally managing to remember that Ryan was, in fact, playing in a band, and they had songs featuring the bass.

“Yeah, sure, let me think,” Ryan furrowed his brows, the nodded, “how about Bleed Magic? It’s pretty simple.”

“Okay, so what do I do?”

Ryan stood up, and walked around you. You could feel him standing close to your back before he leant down, his head next to yours. With his left hand, he took yours, and led it to the neck of the instrument.

“Push down on the D-string, on the third fret,” he instructed.

You moved your hand down the neck to the third fret, but your fingers hovered in the air uncertainly.

“Which one was the D-string again,” you asked timidly.

From the corner of your eyes you could see Ryan smile.

“The second from the bottom,” he repeated patiently. Carefully he moved his hand so his fingers were on top of yours. “And you’ll want to use your middle finger for this, because later we’ll play the first and the fifth fret, and then you don’t have to move your hand so much.”

You nodded, and pressed down on the D-string with your middle finger, Ryan’s finger still gently on top of yours.

“Now pluck the string, but only the D-String, or it’ll sound terrible,” he laughed.

Carefully you did as he said, but the sound that you drew from the instrument was horrible.

“Ew, what’s wrong,” you wondered, turning your head to Ryan.

He smiled, “That’s because you’re not pressing down hard enough. You really have to nail the string to the neck with your finger, really, really hard.” He observed as you followed his instructions. “And now plug it again.”

The sound was quiet, but definitely there.

“And feel free to plug a little harder than that,” he advised, and when you did, you finally drew a proper sound from the bass.

It felt strange, feeling the string vibrate under the finger which pressed it down, but you liked it.

“Great, now pluck it again, and then move to the first fret of the A-string.”

Again you did as he had told you to, and you felt him reach his right arm around you, so he was able to plug the strings too. Far too distracted by the close proximity of your bodies, you did not notice how he told you what to do next. Only when he called your name, you snapped back into the moment, and quickly placed your finger on the third fret of the D-String again.

Ryan’s chest was pressing to your back, his arms wrapped around you, the side of his head so close to yours that they were almost touching. You felt your fingers shaking underneath Ryan’s, but his hand steadied them.

Plucking the string repeatedly, he quietly hummed along the beginning of the chorus. Moving his fingers, he guided you to press down on the A-string again, and he continued humming the melody. Then he moved your ring finger to press down on the fifth fret, and quietly he continued singing the chorus, while guiding you to play along.

His voice was raspy and deeper than Dallon’s, making a shiver run down your spine when you noticed how his breath fanned over the side of your face. Gently he continued guiding your fingers over the strings, halting the singing until you had found the right fret, and this way played the entire song with you.

When the song was over, you expected him to pull away, but instead the fingers of his left hand closed around those of yours a little tighter, and you felt him turning his head to look at you.

“Anything else you want to play, I think Modern Day Caine is quite easy too,” he suggested.

You were pretty shaky already, your heart beating so hard that you feared continuing this would probably not be very healthy, but you would be dammed if you allowed this to end sooner than it had to.

Just when you had opened your mouth to agree, there was a knock on the door, and it was opened. Bill was standing in the frame, and Ryan let go of you as quickly as if he had burned himself on your skin.

“We’re heading to the venue in ten, get ready guys,” Bill announced, and disappeared again.

For a moment there was silence between the two of you, while you progressed what had just happened.

It was you who spoke up first.

“Thanks for showing me,” you smiled, “Maybe you can show me a little more some other time.”

Ryan nodded eagerly, and helped you take the bass off, placing it in its box.

~*~

The next morning, the obnoxious blaring of some cheesy 80s song woke you up rather ruthlessly. You heard Luis move around to turn it off, before feet hit the carpeted floor and started moving around the room.

Your body felt heavy, and breathing felt difficult, as if a weight had been placed on your chest. A premonition started growing in your chest, and you tried sitting up, but your body would not react. It was as if the connection between your brain and your limbs had been cut.

This was not the first time you experienced this paralysis. Some people knew this feeling from sleep paralysis, but for you it was different. For you it meant that your mental health was declining, and not being able to move in the morning was one of the sign.

You felt tears well up in your still closed eyes. Why did this have to happen now? Had you not been spending some amazing weeks with great people? Had you not made a bunch of friends, had not Ryan started stealing your heart in the sweetest and most beautiful way? Why did this have to happen now? Why did the depression always try to ruin everything that was good?

You allowed a couple of hot tears to roll down the side of your face and into your hair. It was still really early. Today you had to make a trip of five hours from Chicago to Sankt Louis, so everyone had to get up at five in the morning to be ready to leave at seven, to make it to the next venue around noon.

Luis had taken a quick shower, and Charlie also started getting up. The sounds of the two men rummaging through their belongings, their naked feet patting over the floor, the occasional sound of a car passing by outside, made you calm down from the initial anger you had experienced.

Of course you were worried that you might be unable to do your job properly, should you really be falling into a depressive episode, but everyone on the team was so kind and caring, that, even though Ryan and Lars were the only ones knowing about your struggles so far, you were sure the rest of the crew would support you, and be understanding.

Clinging to that thought, and the image of Ryan sitting at the breakfast table, waiting for you to join him, motivated you, and you focused on moving again. You knew that if you would think something like “Just move your hand”, your body, or rather a messed up part of your brain, would block it, so instead you decided to reach for your mobile to look at your pictures of the show a couple of days ago, which Lucas had posted to iDKHOW’s Instagram page.

And miraculously it worked. You allowed yourself to soak up the colour and energy of some of the pictures, then having broken the initial blockade, you sat up and placed your feet on the floor. Outside, the sky started turning grey from the sun that had not yet peeked over the horizon.

Luis shot you a small smile when he saw you were awake. Like the two men you shared the room with, you started packing your things after you had refreshed yourself in the small en-suit bathroom.

Not feeling in the mood for make-up, you allowed yourself to leave the room without having put any on. Adding to not feeling in the mood for it, was the hope of getting to sleep on the bus, and the fear that if you were to burst into tears, you would turn into a little panda.

Wearing a pair of shorts, and a soft hoodie over an ancient band shirt, you left the room, backpack over your shoulder, side by side with Charlie and Luis, to join the others for breakfast.

The image of Ryan which had gotten you out of bed eventually was laid out in front of you almost exactly as you had imagined it. When he noticed the door to the breakfast room opening, he turned his head, and when he spotted you, his brow eyes started glowing with adoration, a big smile spreading over his face.

Immediately he scooted to the side so you were able to sit down on the bench next to him, and before you had even muttered a “hello”, he already had poured you a cup of tea.

“Tired,” he asked gently.

Your stomach turned at the thought that if you would continue feeling this down you eventually would have to tell somebody, and that Ryan would worry and be concerned for you. But not now. Maybe you just had a bad dream, which you could not remember, and this was the aftermath.

“A little,” you answered his question, and thanked him when he handed you the plate with fruits.

~*~

That it had not been the aftermath of a bad dream, but really the beginning of a few bad days, or maybe even more, got clear the next day. If Monday, the prior day, had been unpleasant, then Tuesday, today, was hell incarnated.

You barely got up in the morning, constantly felt like you were taking very shallow breaths, that left your lungs aching for air, and your body felt heavier than lead. But you tried to do your work as if nothing was going on.

Clicking through pictures half-heartedly, getting bored of editing them as soon as you had opened the program, and staring at the screen for ten minutes without doing anything, felt like torture.

But in the evening it got worse.

The music the bands were playing seemed too loud for your ears, and even the songs you loved the most got on your nerves. You had never before gotten so easily annoyed by the slightest inconvenience.

Rage bubbled up inside of you when someone accidently bumped into you, and you felt like throwing your camera through the room when one of the photos had turned out blurry.

And what made it worse was that you were aware of everything. It was as if your feelings were operated by remote control by someone else, while you were helplessly watching as rage and impatience filled up your entire body.

The show ended no second too early, and as soon as the last note had faded in the cheers of the crowd, you stormed out of the venue, throwing the heavy fire door open with as much force as you could muster.

The night was warm, and not really helping you to cool down your nerves. Finally being able to work off your anger, you stormed down the street, and turned left, almost running now. Your lungs were burning, and your legs felt week, but you kept going until you reached the next crossing, turning left again.

Your body seemed strangely disconnected from your mind, but at least you managed to remember that walking in circles would probably be a clever idea, considering you did not know the city.

When finally the bright red ball of rage in your chest had faded, you slowed down. Your breathing was quick, and your sides hurt from breathing so irregularly. Your feet hurt, and only now you realized you were crying silently. You reached the next corner, the last before you would turn back into the street of the venue; you halted your steps, and leant against the grey wall of the building.

Through your tears the orange street lights blurred into huge, flickering lights of comfort. The wall was rigid and warm, and giving into your shaking knees, you sunk to the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest, and hugging them tightly, burying your face between them to hide your tears. You heard people pass you by, their chatter growing quiet when they walked past you, and picking back up as soon as they had brought a few feet between you and themselves.

Some of the people were singing songs that faintly reminded you of somebody, but right now you could not find it in you to care. You were wailing in self-pity, and you knew that it was okay to do so, for now. But then you would have to pick yourself up again, and get back to work.

Randomly you remembered that the songs the people in the distance were singing were songs by Dallon and Ryan; they had most likely been at the concert.

All of a sudden you felt very lost. You were far away from home, in a city, in a state you had never been to before. Your parents were far away, your friends were far away, and all the people on the tour bus with you had either been strangers until three weeks ago, or they were your ex-boyfriend.

For the first time on this trip the feeling of being lost in a world made for giants overwhelmed you. It made your heart ache; knowing that nobody was around who, without asking any questions, would just take you in their arms. You longed for familiarity, safety, warmth of another human being, and you had nobody to go to. These thoughts made you cry harder, until eventually you were all out of tears, and your breathing calmed down from sobs to heavy breaths and occasional sighs.

Slowly the world around you seemed to be able to get through the small bubble you had been caged in. Sometimes a car was driving by, and in the distance there were still people talking. Someone walked past you, and then another person. Even though you longed for the feeling of a familiar person caring for you, it gave you comfort that strangers did not give you a second thought.

Another person walked up to you, their steps heavy, and the pattern slightly familiar. The person stopped in front of you, and then, without saying a single word, sat down close next to you. You caught a breeze of coffee and some men’s deodorant, which you did not recognize, so not Ryan then. A big, warm hand landed on your shoulder, and patted you gently, and when you did not reject, he pulled you into him.

“It’s gonna be alright,” a deep voice mumbled, and finally you realized that it was Lucas, who had found you.

He was soft, his shirt a little sweaty, and you could feel his beard against your hair. Somehow he reminded you of your father, even though the two looked nothing alike. Just like your father, Lucas seemed to have the ability to understand you without words, and calm you down when you were upset.

Even though you had no real idea why, your father had always been better at this than your mother. Maybe it was because he, and Lucas too, gave you time, allowed you to be the first one to speak. Both men were able to radiate calmness, and sitting here next to Lucas, you felt like a four year old again, when you had been in a fight with your best friend, and your father had found you crying in the park under a tree.

“I think I might be getting another depressive episode,” you eventually mumbled, feeling the need to share this with somebody.

Lucas said nothing; he just rubbed your back a little. Your head was resting on his shoulder, your eyes closed, as you continued talking.

“I’ve had depression before, and I’m taking my meds and all, but since yesterday, everything is so bad, and I just want to cry-“

You felt your voice being suffocated by yet another wave of tears, so you stopped.

Lucas allowed you to cry for a while, gently rubbing your back every now and then, before he finally spoke up.

“That’s okay. It’s not your fault. Everyone gets sick sometimes. Some people get a cold, others the flue, and you got depression. That’s not the end of the world.”

It was as if he had spoken a spell, which made you realize, that maybe it really was not that bad. What you had been worried about most of the time so far had been that he would sent you home once he found out you were struggling, but maybe he would not? And yes, that still left you with this black hole in your stomach, that swallowed all the light and happiness inside of you, but at least you were still allowed to see the world, to spend time with Ryan.

Lifting your head up, you looked at Lucas questioningly.

“Are you going to send me home,” you asked, because that was what had bothered you the most, and you needed a definite answer to this question.

“Do you want to go home?”

His eyes were sincere, and once more you were reminded of your father. He would be glad if he knew that somebody else was taking care of you, while he was so far away.

“No, I-“

“Then no, I won’t send you home.”

His answer was clear, left no room for debate, and it felt as if a chain fell off your heart.

“But if you want to go home, then you are free to do so anytime, okay? And if you need an evening off, then just tell me. You have taken so many photos already, we can just use a few of these, and say these were some of our favourite shots so far, or whatever. You don’t need to go into the crowd every night, especially not if this is the result,” he gestured to the two of you sitting on the floor.

You nodded, allowing his words to seep into your mind until you had memorized them. Then you took a deep breath and sighed.

“Shall we go back to the bus,” you asked, getting ready to stand up.

“If you’re up to it,” Lucas agreed, and together you stood up, dusted your trousers off, and headed back to the others, who were already waiting for you.

~*~

The next evening you actually made use of Lucas’ offer and took the night off, sitting on the bus instead, and listening to music. Halfway through the evening the thought, that this was the first concert on this tour you were missing, popped into your head, and fuelled by sudden thirst for adventure, you grabbed your camera and backstage pass, and joined the concert, taking a few pictures of Ryan drumming his soul out, but mainly enjoying the music. Lucas just shot you an understanding smile when he spotted you.

The next stop was Minneapolis. The evening, you had taken off, had showed you that even when you decided to take some personal time, you missed not seeing the shows, not seeing Ryan drum, so you took a nap in the afternoon after you had edited the few pictures you had left to do, to be ready for the show.

Even though you felt tired, yet restless, the music managed to get some energy back into your body, and the crowd, mixed with the upbeat music and the magic of Ryan’s smile, even got you in a really good mood.

The few times you saw Lucas during the evening, he always shot you a smile, and it was obvious he was glad that you were having a great time. But even though you appreciated the attention he directed to you, Ryan’s glances into your direction, and the following smiles, still meant so much more to you, getting your heart beating faster each time, and your cheeks heating up.

Once the concert was over, and everything packed into the bus, Lucas drove everyone back to the hotel where you would stay the next two nights. It was a very nice hotel, one with a big lobby with several sofas and gentle music playing in the background, and a huge aquarium was placed opposite the reception against the wall.

The green and blue room gave you a feeling of having travelled to a mysterious underwater world, especially since it was long dark outside, and the world beyond the windows seemed to have molten away the moment you set foot onto the dark carpet of the lobby.

Lucas, as always checked you in, and handed keys to everyone.

“Hey, would you like to do something before going to bed?”

You had not noticed that Ryan had approached you from behind, so at first you did not understand that he had been talking to you. Ignoring the almost painful beating of your heart in your throat, you shrugged.

“Sure, any suggestions,” you asked.

“Maybe you could show me the pictures you took tonight,” he proposed, nervously rubbing his neck, “and we could get a drink at the bar.”

Your eyes flickered to the room next doors where you spotted a counter with liquors stored in a shelf behind it, and a barkeeper casually crossing his arms while talking to someone you did not see from your spot.

Agreeing, you nodded, causing Ryan to grin brightly.

“Maybe we should get our stuff to our rooms, and then meet back up here,” he suggested, and together you walked to the elevator that took you to the floor where your rooms were situated.

Lisa, who once again you were sharing the room with, was nowhere in sight, so you guessed she was over in Jay’s and Bill’s room, trying to accomplish some progress in making Jay interested in her. Carelessly you threw your night bag onto the bed that was not yet occupied by Lisa’s handbag, grabbed your camera from it, and hurried back down to the lobby.

Ryan was already sitting on one of the soft sofas, his eyes flickering to the elevator when he heard the doors open. A smile lit up his face, and he immediately straightened his posture when he saw you. Scooting aside a little to make space for you to sit down, he looked up at you expectantly.

Suddenly you found yourself worrying where to sit, or rather, how close to sit to him. Maybe he did not want you to sit close to him, but he surely wanted to see the pictures. But if you sat too close, he would definitely feel like his personal space got invaded, and you did not want to make him feel uncomfortable. After a short moment of hesitation you ended up sitting down, a couple of inches between your legs and his.

“So, how have you been,” Ryan asked after a moment of silence.

You sighed quietly, debating how honest you should be with him. In the end, as always, you decided on brutal honesty.

“Honestly, I’ve been really bad these past few days,” you admitted.

Ryan nodded understandingly.

“I noticed that you were quieter than usually,” he mentioned. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You thought about his question for a moment, then you answered quietly.

“Sometimes just sitting with you and having a conversation, or really just sitting without doing anything makes me feel a lot better,” you told him, earning a soft smile.

“Then let’s do that more often,” he offered, causing you to smile in return.

“Thank you.”

For a moment you were looking into each other’s eyes, and your heart grew all tight from sudden nervousness as Ryan’s eyes shortly flickered to your lips, causing them to tickle strangely.

“Shall we look at the pictures?”

His question interrupted the moment, and you were not certain if you were disappointed or happy about it.

Quickly you pulled the camera into your lap, and turned it on, pressing the button to switch to the gallery. Scrolling back to the first picture that as still saved on the SD-card, you turned on full screen, and tilted the device so Ryan could have a better look.

It felt natural, and yet your heart sped up again, when he scooted closer to you, his leg now pressing against the side of yours, and to get closer, he placed his arm on the backrest behind your shoulders, leaning in so close that his head was almost touching yours. Trying to ignore the distraction of his, by now, familiar scent, the soft tickling of his hair, and the heat that radiated off his body, you started to talk about the pictures you had shot. Carefully you explained why you had taken these specific pictures, what you liked about them, and what you did not like.

Occasionally Ryan let out an agreeing hum, or exclaimed how much he loved certain pictures, his praise sounding real, and he could not manage to hide how impressed he was with your skills.

Halfway through the pictures Lucas passed through the lobby behind your backs. While you shifted a little, worried he might not approve of what he might misunderstand as a romantic get together between Ryan and you, Ryan only wrapped his arm around your shoulder protectively, and complimented the picture you were showing him.

But he had to admit to himself that most of the time he was not even focusing on the pictures. He was far too distracted by the young photographer at his side. He loved the way the dim green and blue light in the lobby painted your profile so mysteriously into the dark room, and how the white light of the display highlighted your features. If he was honest with himself, he would have had to admit that he could get lost in your face the whole day long. Again and again he had to suppress the urge to lift his hand, and gently run the tips of his fingers over your soft looking cheek, or to nuzzle his nose into your neck.

His daydreams were rudely interrupted by the door to the parking lot flying open and crashing into the wall. Both Ryan and you, as well as the hotel employee, turned around alarmed, and watched as Lucas came running into the lobby. The employee had an almost horrified expression on his face as Lucas, today again wearing the two space buns, and beet red in his face, ran over to the counter.

“Call nine eleven,” he demanded, close to hyperventilating. “Call nine elven, our bus has been stolen.”

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #his smile will keep you safe #fanfiction #fanfic #mulit chapter #ryan seaman multi chapter story #trigger warning #depression #panic attack

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Five

Warnings: consumption of alcohol

Word Count: 4 568

You woke up to hair in your face, tickling you. Warm, musky scent filled your nose, and you smiled slightly, nuzzling closer into the body that had wrapped around you. It took you a few moments to remember yesterday’s events, and sure enough, when you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of a peacefully asleep Ryan. Carefully you looked over his features. He was relaxed; his eyes closed lightly, lashes brushing against the skin under his eyes. His lips were slightly parted, and you could hear his even breath. He looked vulnerable like this, and all of a sudden you felt as if you had to protect him from the world, even though yesterday evening it had been him who had saved you, him and Dallon.

Not daring to move, you closed your eyes again. Laying so close to him made you feel safe, and since the bus had already begun heating up in the young day’s sun, it soon got very warm. With as little movement as possible, you freed your legs from the blanket, yet refused to move away from Ryan. Outside your bunk, people started getting up. You heard Lucas’ specifically heavy steps sound through the bus before he climbed outside.

If you were not mistaken you were in Rochester, New York. At least that was supposed to be where tonight’s show would take place. People started talking in the kitchen, most likely Jay and Charlie, judging by the distorted voices. Soon a third person with a higher voice, Lisa undoubtedly, joined in.

You remembered how she had told you about her feeling for Jay, and you realized that during the past week you had been so busy avoiding Lars that you had not even considered asking her how things were going.

A strange feeling of peace had settled in your chest, after Dallon had explained that the whole crew would look out for you. You knew Lars would not dare to approach you now. Because if anything happened to you, he would be the one everyone would look at first. If he did anything you explicitly asked him not to do, you could tell anyone, and he would be in big trouble. No doubt he would stick to the rules now.

Slowly Ryan next to you started to move. Blinking open his eyes, he stretched his arms before he turned his head, and smiled at you.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice raspy, “how are you feeling?”

“Better,” you grinned, making him smile even brighter.

“Did I snore,” he wondered, sitting up in the bunk bed.

“Not that I noticed,” you giggled, cuddling further into the blanket, and looking up at the drummer.

His blue hair was dishevelled, and his face a little puffy from sleeping, but he looked adorable, far more adorable than should be allowed.

Little did you know that Ryan had basically the same thoughts about you, while you were hiding underneath the blanket, blinking up at him with your beautiful eyes that were finally not red from crying anymore. Your hair lay spread out around your head, a little bit like a halo, and if your relationship had been a closer one, he definitely would not have hesitated to lean down to kiss you.

But you had been through enough this past week, not to mention that you barely knew each other for more than fourteen days, and he had no clue whether you felt about him the same way he did about you; had since he had helped you up on the street.

After the two of you had sat in silence for a while, allowing yourselves to wake up, you climbed out of the bunk bed and joined the others in the small kitchen for a bowl of cereal. Dallon was laying spread out over the couch, loudly contemplating the different options there were for going out.

Questioningly you looked over to Lisa who quickly explained that Bill had suggested a night out for the whole crew. After a while, everyone agreed that the pub around the corner of the hotel you were staying in for the night would probably be the best option.

By now Lars had joined the group too, but he was scrupulously avoiding looking into your direction. Even though he had mentioned he would join too, you could not find it in you to care about it. Ryan would be with you, and it felt as if nothing in the world could harm you with him around.

Since there would be two shows in Rochester, it was the first hotel night in a while. You found yourself looking forward to the proper bed and solid ground under your feet.

It was around noon that Lucas parked the bus in the parking lot of the small hotel, and everyone got assigned rooms. You were sharing one with Jay, Luis and Charlie this time. Almost you would have asked if you could change so Ryan and you were in the same room, but you decided not to, not wanting to be too clingy, even though at the moment you were not sure who of the two of you was clingier since Ryan always seemed less than an arm’s length away from you.

Soon after everybody had moved into their rooms, Lucas called you back to the bus, so you could drive to the venue. There the usual routine started back up. Bill and Lucas were setting up the stage, Lisa was preparing the merch, and Lars was fumbling around with the lighting console.

You had taken the usual seat at the bar, the editing program opened on your laptop. But today you had other than Lisa a few meters away, more company. Ryan and Dallon, who usually stayed on the bus, or hung around backstage, had taken seats at your side, and watched curiously how you scrolled through the pictures, or skilfully selected the editing tools you needed at light’s speed.

It made you a little nervous, having somebody watch your every move, but then again you knew that out of the three of you, you were the professional one. Sometimes Ryan’s knee bumped against yours slightly. The soft touch and the warmth that sept through your trousers made you smile, and occasionally you took a glance at the man by your side, finding that more often than not he was watching your face rather than the screen of your computer.

Every time you caught him, he would quickly avert his eyes, and you could have sworn that there was the faintest blush on his cheeks.

Far too soon the quiet hours were over, and the musicians were called backstage. Even though Charlie had invited you to join them, you stayed outside together with Lisa, helping her with selling merch as the first people approached the tables.

As every night, you started taking pictures of the “Three Beats” once they started playing, and as every night you got more and more excited for Ryan to finally settle behind his drum set. You loved the way he made a show out of it, and yet it seemed like the most natural thing on earth for him.

Quickly you snapped a few pictures of him before Dallon walked on stage, and the cheering in the room increased even more. By now you knew how Dallon moved around, when the lights would be especially nice to take good pictures, and during which songs Ryan was drumming extra passionately. Knowing the set made it easier to find the right moments for good snaps. Sometimes you wanted a clear picture of a musician, for example a good time for these were when Dallon was talking. Usually he stood still, and only moved around little while talking to the audience. Other times you wanted to capture the dynamic of the music, aiming for a little blur caused by fast movements. In this case you waited for the instrumental parts of the songs where Dallon was not confined to the microphone, and moved around more.

The same worked with Ryan too. During some songs he was drumming out his soul, head banging to the music, which made great, dynamic pictures, blurring his hair in the background while, when you were lucky, his face was crystal clear. Sometimes on the other hand, he was sitting still, only his foot beating a rhythm into the bass drum. You took these moments to sneak up on him, quickly taking pictures of him smiling into the crowd, or making faces at Dallon’s words.

They had reached the part of the show where Dallon was thanking Ryan for his participation. He always did at this point in the show, so knowing the routine you made your way to the side of the stage to document Ryan’s reaction.

For one and a half weeks now you had noticed how he burst into smiles so proudly every time the crowd cheered for him, and so far you had not gotten any pictures that satisfied your perfectionism.

You were standing at the corner of the stage, the drum set blurry in the foreground of the shot, and your lens focused on Ryan. Sure enough he started smiling as Dallon mentioned his name, and you pressed the shutter release repeatedly. His smile only grew and grew as the crowd continued cheering him on, and you found yourself giggling at how crinkly his face got, filled with so much joy, while at the same time your heart felt like it would burst into pieces, so happy were you for him.

Taking as many pictures of the drummer as your camera allowed, you barely would have noticed him turning to you. You were so occupied by pressing the shutter release time after time again, that it took a few seconds to realize the brown eyes that were watching you, as if he was asking “they’re cheering for me, can you hear them? Crazy, I just do something I love, and they like it so much that they cheer for me!”.

The moment he noticed he had your attention he lifted his hands up, and folded them under his chin, as if he was posing for a cute photo. Quickly you took a few snaps, your heart racing at his gesture while your eyes never lost contact with his. His were so happy and joyful, and you were enchanted by them, unable to tear your gaze away.

Until Dallon started the next song; and Ryan had to turn back to his drums.

Suddenly the spell was broken, and the cheers and screams of excited fans suddenly became a lot louder than before. It was as if the volume had been turned down while Ryan had been looking at you. Standing at the stage, it took you a moment to collect your thoughts.

Just like the very first concert of theirs, a feeling of confusion washed over you. Again it had seemed as if Ryan had only played for you, as if all he was doing up there on stage was to make you look at him. And you capturing his performance, tiny snippets of time fixed in a few data bits that would turn into a photograph, were only here to have his head twisted by your presence.

You shooed the thought away, not wanting to admit to the realization that had started growing inside of you for almost a week now.

You liked Ryan.

At first it was inexplicable to you, why you were so much against this. Was it because you were working with him, and you did not want to seem unprofessional? That was probably an aspect, but then again, he spend most of his life doing music, going on tours, and you spent most of your life photographing bands. So when would you ever get the chance to meet somebody outside of work? Definitely not while going out, because that was not something you did, usually. And tonight would be an exception.

You were pretty sure Bill had come up with the idea of going out to distract everybody from yesterday’s events. It was obvious how shaken up everybody was, and it seemed like Bill hoped to get your spirits up again. You could not really blame him.

Walking through the crowd you finally forced yourself to face the painful truth. After Lars you had never dated anybody. It had been years, and often you just told yourself that you had no time for dating, for going out, for making scheduled appointments with a person you probably did not even like as much as you pretended.

But you liked Ryan. It had only been a week, but you were falling for him, for his charms, his smiles, the confidence and safety he radiated. He made you feel welcome, as if there were nobody he would rather be spending time with. And you wanted to know everything about him, wanted to make him feel comfortable, wanted him to laugh and smile, and shake his head while doing so, like he always did.

There was no doubt that you liked him. So what was stopping you?

Passing a group of girls, drinks in hands, dancing out of rhythm, you analysed what you had avoided doing for years. What held you back was fear. By now you knew Lars was a prick at the best of times, but you had not always thought like this. So maybe you were wrong thinking Ryan was different. Oh god, you hoped so much he was.

But just as little kids get scared of stoves after they burned their fingers, even when the stove is cool, you got scared of being vulnerable to somebody. An echo of the pain that Lars had caused you, was still lingering in your heart. It felt different from what it had felt back then, when you had broken up. It was the memory of a pain. The same way people knew how much it hurt to stub their little toes, even without just having done that, even when they had only stubbed their toe once in their life, years back, they still remembered how much it hurt. And the pain Lars had caused you had been exponentially bigger.

You stopped your way through the crowd, and turned to the stage. Ryan was drumming and, as always, smiling while doing so. If you allowed yourself to do this, if you allowed yourself to feel something for him, if you allowed him to continue to treat you with such care and admiration as he already did, you would put both your hearts on the line. Was it worth this?

He was a grown up, he knew what he was doing, probably better than you. If he was even half as empathetic as you believed him to be, he already knew that you liked him, and he seemed to be in at least as deep as you.

So, what he was doing was his decision, none of your concern.

But was he worth the possibility of getting your heart ripped out like it had already happened once before? Would the pain he would be able to cause you, should you allow your feelings to take over, be worth it?

You still stared at Ryan, invisible in the crowd while he was blinded by the spotlights. He was beautiful, playing like this. His passion, the love for what he did seemed to fill the room, and even if you were the only one who felt it, it was breath-taking. Damned hell, of course he was worth it.

~*~

The pub, which the crew had decided on, was not far away from the hotel. It had taken some time after the show had finished, until everybody had gotten ready. Everyone had come to the conclusion that it would be best to go back to the hotel first, and get a shower to rinse of sweat and dust from the day, before getting ready to go out. With amusement you learned that it took each one of the “Three Beat” members more than twice as long in the bathroom than you.

It felt nice, having some cold water flow over your body, and you even made the effort of shaving again, even though the last time had not been that long ago. The weather had been very hot the past days, and even though you spent most of the time inside of big buildings, the heat had gotten to you. Now you had finally cooled down, your still wet strands of hair were brushed to the side to show of the shaved part of your head.

You wore an oversized band shirt matched with short jeans, and a pair of thin, black tights. Leaving the bathroom to the men, so they could finish, you had grabbed your toothbrush, and –paste, and brushed your teeth quickly, before applying a little bit of make-up.

Looking yourself over in the mirror, for the first time in a long while, you felt truly confident in your looks. Jay’s and Charlie’s wide eyed stare made you giggle in embarrassment, even though they quickly apologized and remembered their manners, paying you several sweet compliments, instead of staring at you with their mouths hanging open.

When you reached the lobby of the hotel, where everyone should meet up, you noticed that your room was not the last one to arrive. Lucas, Bill, Dallon and Ryan were still not around. As it had become a habit, you leant against a door frame, and watched what the others were doing.

Lisa and Lars were sitting side by side on the window still, talking quietly, and the opening band was standing pretty much in the middle of the room, also chatting.

Just when you were about to let out a deep sigh, Dallon and Ryan entered the room. Dallon looked, in your eyes at least, as always. But Ryan did not. Instead of the tight leathery trousers he had worn before, he was now wearing black ripped jeans, and while you wondered how he was not hot, you realized that the rips were probably big enough to cool him down a little. The flower shirt had given way to a red and black band shirt, and over his arms, he was carrying a leather jacket.

You caught yourself almost staring at the man, admiring this whole new him, which he seemed even more comfortable with than before. He shot you a wide grin and gave thumbs up before joining you.

“How did you enjoy the show,” he asked.

He had never asked you this before, so you were a little surprised, but also flattered that he asked for your opinion.

“I loved it, as always,” you smiled at him, making him laugh.

The things you had been thinking about while taking the pictures of him, and walking through the crowd, you did not share.

You had only been talking for a few minutes with the drummer, when finally Lucas and Bill also entered the lobby, and the group started their way to the pub that had been chosen.

The pub turned out to be an all-round mixture between bar, pub and club. Entering, the guests immediately faced a huge bar with at least twenty bar stools and a wide shelf with countless different alcoholic drinks. From rum over whisky to absinth and vermouth, everything was present.

Two men in their mid-forties stood behind the bar, skilfully mixing drinks that were ordered or pouring bourbon into glasses.

A room to the right side was filled with tables and chairs, and judging by the delicious smell of Shepard’s Pie that filled it, you guessed it was the pub-part of the facility. To the right, smaller tables were presented along the windows, and where the bar stopped, the room opened further into the back of the house, offering a dance floor, where people were dancing cheerfully to the rock’ n’ roll music that was playing from the speakers.

Lucas suggested getting some of the tables by the windows, and everyone agreed. Since due to the hot weather, nobody was really hungry, Bill ordered a few different snacks before a waitress handed you cards that listed the drinks. Feeling not very much in the mood to go exploring the wide range of possible cocktails right now, you decided on a simple whisky.

Ryan, who had settled down next to you, raised an eyebrow as you answered his question what you had in mind to order, but when you raised your eyebrows back at him, he just giggled.

“Interesting choice,” he commented with a smile, and you shrugged, “I think I’m taking a Caipirinha.”

Jay had pushed two tables together, and now the ten of you sat crowded, shoulder to shoulder, around them. Being squeezed between Charlie and Ryan was almost comfortable by now, and as if you had not been the only person thinking about how close everyone had gotten already (except maybe for yesterday’s incident with Lars), Lisa spoke up.

“It’s great how we all get along so well,” she cheered, and Charlie shot you a wide smile, much to Ryan’s annoyance, because he had done the same, but you were looking the other way.

As if to demonstrate that Lars completely agreed with Lisa’s statement, he put his arm around her shoulder, since they were sitting next to each other. Two weeks ago this might have bothered you, you realized, but by now you honestly could not care less.

Soon the waitress picked up your orders, and the table fell into quiet conversation over how tour had been great so far, and how everyone was looking forward to the upcoming stops. You could not help but getting pulled into the excited chatter.

During the past days you had seen more of your home country than ever before, and hearing all the stories the other crew members recalled from other tours they had done, excited you.

It was close to one am when your drinks got served, and Lucas spoke a toast to the whole crew, and of course the bands, earning applause from everyone before people clicked their glasses together.

You loved the smooth and smoky taste of whisky on your tongue, while the fresh smell of Ryan’s cocktail also hung in the air. Over the course of the following minutes, the music seemed to get louder, and so did the hysteric laughter of Lisa, who apparently had a slightly oversensitive reaction to the alcohol in her drink.

Ryan shot you a side glance, which you answered with yet another shrug, as Lars leant in particularly close to Lisa, to push a strand of hair out of her eyes. You knew what he was doing. Flirting openly with another girl to make you jealous had always been his response to when he was upset with you. The only trouble this time was that you could not care less. Your suspicion got confirmed, when he pulled Lisa up for a dance, and threw a look over his shoulder to check your reaction. You just held eye contact for a second, and took a sip of your drink.

One after the other, the other crew members also got up to dance. You loved watching Charlie and Luis fool around, and the way Lucas was totally engulfed in his own world, his eyes closed, while he was slightly swaying to the music. In the two weeks, which you had spent so close to each other, you had never seen him this relaxed. Constantly he seemed under pressure to get everyone everywhere on time, and tonight he had the rare chance to let loose.

All of a sudden a very familiar melody started playing over the speakers, and excitedly you turned to Ryan, the only other person left on the table, as the first notes of “Mambo No 5” sounded through the bar.

Seeing the expression in your face, Ryan rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face before getting up, and offering you his hand. Smiling widely you took it, and got up too, the warm, rough skin of his hands so new, yet strangely familiar against yours.

Leading you to the dance floor he twirled you in rhythm to the beat of the jive, before pulling you into his chest. The way your hand landed on his shoulder, the way his free hand softly rested on your hip, felt so natural as if you had done nothing but dancing together all your life.

He guided you into a quick step, even though you had not the faintest clue what you were doing, but he was great at leading, and soon you had gotten used to the quick movements. Once he had the feeling that you knew what to do, aka keeping the rhythm, he spun you out, so you were dancing side by side, the hand he had first offered you still holding yours. Spinning you back in, you almost lost your balance, and stumbled into him, but he caught you skilfully, a deep chuckle coming from his chest as he spun you around once, quickly catching you back into his arms.

Soon you were out of breath and dizzy, both from all the spinning and the alcohol in your blood, but luckily the song was over, and Ryan held you in place, softly swing you from side to side as a slow song came on.

“You’re a good dancer,” he complimented, and you could tell that he was being serious.

“I’ve never danced like this before in my entire life,” you confessed, wondering if the spinning in your head would stop soon.

Ryan really had outdone himself with the five spins in the end.

“Well, you just danced jive, and you did a good job,” he smiled down on you, his brown eyes so sincere and warm.

Embarrassedly you turned your gaze away, not trusting your slightly intoxicated mind. Maybe you would say or do something, something that might be too early to know already. So instead you adjusted your hand on Ryan’s arm, and allowed yourself to get lost in the gentle warmth that seeped through your shirt where his hand was resting on your back. A strand of his hair tickled the side of your face, but you did not mind. It was soft and comfortable, and it was Ryan, and right now that was all that mattered.

The evening, or rather night, came to an abrupt end, when Lisa got sick, and ran to the bathroom. Apparently the “Zombie”-cocktail and the dancing had been too much on an otherwise empty stomach. You followed her, being the only other woman in the group, and eventually decided that it was time to go home.

You would have died to continue dancing with Ryan, sometimes wildly, sometimes slowly, but always close together, looking at his beautiful face, his intoxicating eyes, his bright smile. But seeing someone throw up really did kind of ruin the mood for the night.

And who knows, you told yourself, maybe there would be a nice hotel lobby somewhere along the tour where they had some good music running in the background, and Ryan might ask you to dance again. This at least were your last thoughts that night before you fell asleep in a bed next to Jay, who was already snoring loudly.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman multi chapter story #Ryan Seaman #fanfiction #fanfic #his smile will keep you safe #fluff #cute #multi chapter #multi chapter story

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Six

Warnings: mentions of depression and alcohol

Word Count: 5 703

The following days were rather dull compared to the night out. Everything went back to the routine of touring, and while you did not mind, you felt like you were missing the whole group hanging out together. The only thing that changed, much to your relief, was Lars’s behaviour. Over the next days, he continued flirting with Lisa, who seemed to enjoy the attention, but in return he left you alone.

Or rather, he actually made an effort of being nice, as if he had finally understood that it had been wrong of him to pester you the way he had.

Every morning he greeted you with a smile, which had almost scared you to death the first two times, and during the day, when it was his turn to get food, coffee, cake or snacks, he always made sure that he got your favourite for you. And unlike you had feared in the beginning, he never tried flirting, or anything more than platonic chatter.

It was five days after the night out, and you had reached the city of New York. In the beginning you had not been extraordinarily excited, but now you had to admit that seeing this city, at least just for half a day, was very tempting.

Unluckily you were in New York only for a day, but since you were the photographer, and had no duty during the day, you used the time to escape the dark venue, and take a train to Manhattan.

You knew it was pretentious in a way, but you really wanted to take in the city’s energy, and from what you imagined, the best place to do it, was in the very centre it.

Dallon had decided to accompany you, while all the others were too tired from the late nights, and the travels.

Dallon had been to New York before, and even though he did not know the streets the way a local would, he managed to get you successfully to Times Square.

A strange feeling of pride overwhelmed you when you looked up at the buildings around you. Houses reached into the sky, their walls flashing with colourful advertisements, a screen showed the news, and everywhere people were walking around. Some were staring at their phones, as if they did not even notice the gigantic media spectacle around them, others had their cameras pulled out, and took pictures, of the buildings, their friends and themselves. Tourist groups with matching base caps hurried over the place, and a couple of old women slowly walked along the side of the street, focused on a conversation.

You took a couple of pictures of your surroundings, before focusing on Dallon. Since you were more used to photographing people, it only felt natural to document his visit. It took him a while before he noticed that your attention had shifted, and he started making silly faces, making you laugh. Before you continued walking down a street into a random direction, he insisted on taking a picture together.

His genius idea had been for you to stand in front of him so he could easily look over your head, with the Times Square in the background. You shook your head laughing after the picture was done, and showed it to Dallon, who looked really proud of himself to have made you look like a ten year old next to him.

Sadly your trip to the centre of the city was only short, but you had known that before, and you were glad that you had gone anyway. On the way back to the train station, you bought ice cream for both Dallon and you, as a thank you for him guiding you through the maze of houses during his spare time.

The cold treat melted quickly in the hot sun, and soon your hands were sticky with drops of ice cream that had escaped out of the cone before you had been able to catch them with your tongue. In the back of your mind, you noticed that Dallon had pulled out his phone, and snapped a few pictures of your fight against the melting ice cream, but you just giggled, and forgot about it.

As it turned out, you were back at the venue just in time for the doors to open. Dallon snuck in through a back door, while you slipped in through the front, shortly before the fans were allowed in.

Lisa was sitting on a chair behind the merch tables, as always, and Lucas hurried around, searching for the person in charge of the bar. In the main hall of the venue, you found Lars, who was playing around with the lights. When he noticed you, he waved, and following an instinct, you walked over.

“How was your trip,” he asked curiously, pulling down all the switches, and thereby turned off the lights on the stage.

“It was great,” you grinned, thinking back to the huge amount of houses and people you had seen. “I could have never imagined a city to be this big, and I only saw a tiny bit of it.”

Lars nodded and leant against his console.

“A couple of months back, I was touring, and we had a whole week in New York,” he remembered, “we went to see all the famous sights, and even to some of the museums. It’s crazy to realize how much culture and history there is, and it’s all in this comparatively tiny spot on the earth.”

You nodded in agreement.

“I’d love to do this someday,” you admitted.

“Yeah, I can imagine. You’ll love the city even more once you get to know it better, I’m sure,” he smiled, and you could tell that at this moment he was thinking back to the time when the two of you had been a happy couple.

A strange feeling of nostalgia overcame you, and you remembered that there had been many reasons why you had fallen in love with him; you almost wished yourself back to that time, before he had cheated on you the first time, before you had gotten ill, but if none of that would have happened, you would probably never have met Ryan.

“I’m sorry I was such an ass to you,” Lars suddenly apologized, “I was angry because you seemed so happy, even without me, and the whole break up, even though it was years ago, just came back to me, and really bumped me out. We were good together, you know?”

For a moment you almost would have said yes, admitted how much you had missed him in the past years, especially at night, when the bed was cold, and you were all on your own.

But you did not.

Instead you remembered why you had stopped being good, how the care for each other had shrunk, how both of you had gotten selfish in your own ways, and how he had been too much of a coward to break up with you before starting an affair, which he knew you would eventually find out about.

“For a while,” you reminded him, “We were good together for a while. And then we stopped being good together. And that’s okay, you know. People change, we changed, that’s the way things happen.”

Lars nodded thoughtfully.

“I just hope we can be friends, or at least not hate each other. And even if it’s just for the duration of the tour,” he looked at you pleadingly, and you could see how much it meant to him.

“I’d like that,” you agreed, making him smile.

“No hard feelings?”

“No hard feelings.”

He grinned at you, and once more it reminded you of why you had loved him. He was charming at times, his smile, when genuine, was addicting, and he got protective over the people he liked. But he had this darkness inside of him, and when he was unhappy, or even not explicitly happy, he got mean. Sometimes he behaved like a little child, like a little child with too much power.

And you immediately thought of Ryan, whose smile was brighter than the sun, who always tried to keep his bad mood (if he was even able to be in a bad mood) to himself, and who never would have turned to such mean and below-the-belt techniques as Lars. Ryan had nothing of this questionable behaviour Lars more often than not, exposed.

The doors opened, and you shot Lars a last smile before quickly going backstage, where the bands were already sitting around. You joined Jay and Dallon on one of the sofas, all of you talking happily until the “Three Beats” were told it was time for them to go on stage. As every other evening before, you followed them, and hid yourself in the crowd of people, starting to take the pictures for the night.

After the show, Lucas drove everyone to the small hotel where you would stay for the night before taking off to Philadelphia in the morning. Quickly it was agreed, that you would share a room with Lisa, Bill and Lucas.

Lisa seemed to be especially tired today, so she hurried off to the shared room, as soon as Lucas had handed her a key. Since early during the show you had noticed that you were incredibly hungry, having eaten nothing but two scoops of ice cream since breakfast, you hesitated a little, considering going to get something to eat. When Ryan noticed your indecisive looks between door and the stairs that lead to the rooms, he walked over.

“Everything okay?”

It had been a few days since Ryan and you had talked properly. Since the night out in the pub, you felt so insecure around him. Had the dancing and laughing and getting closer during that evening been too much at once, maybe it had had more importance to you than to him? Was he annoyed by how you two always ended up together? Maybe he had realized that he did not like you as much as he had thought?

You were fully aware that you were overthinking everything, but that did not stop the racing thoughts. So instead you had made sure not hang around him all the time, and focused more on actively spending some time with Lisa, Charlie and Luis. That did not mean you had not missed the little talks Ryan and you had shared, and him approaching you now was a good sign that he had missed you too.

“I’m just hungry,” you explained with a shrug.

“I saw a diner down the street,” Ryan immediately answered, “Would you like to get something together?”

The smile on your face was wider than you wanted to admit, but you nodded quickly. If he had been annoyed by you, he surely would not ask you to go out for food together.

“Should we ask the others if they want to come too,” you asked, adjusting the backpack you were wearing.

Ryan shook his head no.

“If they wanted something to eat, they can go themselves,” he shrugged, “Also I’d just like some time alone with you.”

He said it as if it meant nothing, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, but his words made your head spin, and your heart beat against your chest violently.

~*~

The diner was small, and glowing, blinking letters in the windows announced that it was open 24 hours. The booths inside were almost tiny, the tables grey and the benches hard, but the delicious smell of coffee, burgers, and pancakes hung in the air, and made up for the lack of comfort and style.

Ryan and you settled down opposite each other in a booth by the windows. The lights inside the diner made it almost impossible to see outside; and instead the room got reflected in the glass.

For a while there was an awkward silence between the two of you. Finally you caught each other sneaking glances; and you could not help but laughed. Ryan grinned too, and it once again reminded you how bright each and every one of his smiles was.

“I missed talking to you this last week,” Ryan suddenly admitted, “It felt like we barely knew each other.”

For a moment you considered lying, but in the end decided against it. This was Ryan, he was always so kind and gentle, and he deserved the truth.

“I was scared I was getting on your nerves,” you admitted, “especially after the night out last week. I thought you might be annoyed by me.”

Ryan’s eyes widened at your confession, and he reached over the table, taking your hand in his.

“You could never annoy me,” he stammered out, obviously shocked by how little you thought of yourself, “you are amazing company, I love spending time with you! Why would you think that?”

You looked down on where Ryan’s fingers had closed around yours. His hand was warm, the skin a little rough, but not dry. Again you considered, whether telling the truth was appropriate. But you wanted to be honest; you wanted to be honest with Ryan. Especially if whatever there was between the two of you could ever turn into more, you needed him to know even the bad things about you.

“My self-esteem isn’t the greatest,” you mumbled, your eyes still fixed on your hands, so you did not have to look up into his.

You assumed he would be happy with this short answer, but the pause that followed proved otherwise.

“I – I have been struggling with my mental health for ages, and even if everything else works pretty good at the moment, sometimes there are still these negative thoughts, that make me believe no one would ever want to be close to me, in any way. Or that the people who are around me deserve better, especially when they’re as amazing as you.”

You added the last part more as a whisper to yourself, but Ryan’s fingers tightened around yours reassuringly, and you felt the smile tucking at the corner of your lips. When you looked up, he was still looking at you, a gentle expression in his eyes, and you almost felt like crying, because he cared so much, and did not make fun of you, or question anything.

“I feel really honoured that you shared that with me,” he finally spoke, “and if you ever need, or want, help, with anything, really, just come and talk to me, okay? I want you to know that I’m here when you need me, and I don’t deserve any better than you.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the stinging in your nose that gave away the tears that would spill any moment. Quickly you took your free hand and whipped over your eyes, not wanting to cry now.

Ryan shot you a lopsided smile, and handed you one of the menus that had been lying on the table the whole time. In the end you decided on a burger; and Ryan on pancakes. After you had ordered, you started talking.

You talked about how strange it was that after only three weeks of knowing each other you sat here, in the middle of the night, in a diner, talking. You talked about how touring was the best thing in the world, even though it was stressful, and how dogs and cats were equally good pets.

You had almost finished eating when another silence fell between you, but this time you felt as if it was because Ryan thought about something. Not wanting to disturb him, you finished your fries, having left the crunchiest for the end. Suddenly he spoke up again.

“It’s probably not my place to ask this, but… what’s the story with Lars and you?”

You blinked a few times, not having expected him to ask about this, but then you answered.

“We were a couple, back in college,” you explained, but from Ryan’s expression you could tell that he hoped for more. And so you told him what had happened, how you had gotten together, how your depression had started getting worse, how he had cheated and how you had forgiven him. When you told Ryan this part, he gently shook his head.

“You’re too good for this world,” he mumbled under his breath, but you pretended not to have heard him, and continued telling your story, that while you had been away at a hospital stay, he had cheated again, and that you had broken up with him as soon as you had found out, fuelled by a strange burst of energy.

“Good for you,” Ryan encouraged, taking a sip from his milkshake, which he had ordered somewhere in between. “If he cheated once, it’s only likely he’d cheat again.”

You nodded in agreement.

“Took me long enough to find that out myself. But in the end I still think I did the right thing. If I would have ended it after the first time, I’d’ve only felt guilty about it, because maybe he really would have changed.”

Ryan took another sip.

“And how are things now?”

“Are you asking me if I still like him,” you asked with a knowing smirk, which got answered with a shrug and watchful eyes.

“Just curious,” Ryan defended.

You shooed the thoughts away that said Ryan only asked because he wanted to know if he had a chance, and instead focused on answering.

“We made peace tonight before the show, but nothing in this world, or the next, can ever get me back to dating this guy,” you answered.

Maybe it was just you, but you could have sworn that Ryan relaxed a little.

“That’s good,” he said, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him jokingly. When he saw, he quickly added “that you made peace, I mean.”

You nodded.

“It feels better now, knowing that he’ll behave and won’t try to read everything with a subtext.”

For a while you sat in silence, Ryan occasionally taking a sip of his milkshake, but this time it was not the awkward kind of silence.

“So, what about you,” you eventually decided to ask.

You had wondered since the beginning if his interest in you was genuine or if he simply needed some distraction on tour, while at home someone was waiting for him.

“What about me,” he wondered, looking up at you with his beautiful doe eyes.

“Do you have anyone?”

“Ha ha, funny,” he faked laughed, “but no, I don’t. Honestly I don’t seem to be the kind of guy who attracts the ladies very much.”

You raised your eyebrows at him again, and almost were about to say something like ‘I’d like to differ’, but swallowed the words in the last second.

“No, but for real, I can’t even remember the last time I was together with someone,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Do you miss it,” you asked, following an impulse.

“Sometimes,” he answered, looking at you, and you had a feeling he was thinking back to the night he had spent in your bunk bed next to you, “especially waking up next to someone I like, where I feel save.”

His words seemed to create a bubble around the two of you, separating you from the world around you. You were looking into each other’s eyes, and you thought back to that morning, when you had woken up, and Ryan had been by your side. How vulnerable he had been, how calm and relaxed. How safe you had felt next to him, but also as if you were protecting him as much as he was protecting you. And the way he looked at you, made you feel as if he was thinking the exactly same thing.

The moment was interrupted by the waitress who took away your empty plates, and asked if you wanted anything else.

“I think we’re fine,” Ryan replied.

“No, wait, for me a strawberry milkshake please,” you ordered with a smile, and the lady nodded before walking back to the kitchen.

“I can tell you, the strawberry milkshake is delicious, good choice,” Ryan grinned.

“I’ve smelt yours the entire time, and couldn’t resist anymore,” you laughed.

For a while both of you looked around the diner, until your milkshake arrived.

“What day is it even,” you wondered out loud.

While you knew you were in New York, you had completely lost track of time.

“Friday, the sixteenth,” Ryan answered after having taken a quick glance at his mobile.

“The sixteenth of August?”

“Yeah, seems like it,” he laughed, holding out his phone with the calendar and clock pulled up for you to check.

And indeed, it was shortly past one am, Friday the sixteenth.

“Oh,” you mumbled.

“Why, is something wrong,” Ryan asked in concern, putting his phone away again.

“No, it’s just… it’s my birthday. I completely forgot.”

Ryan stared at you wide eyed.

“Well, happy birthday then! We should celebrate this evening!”

“No, please don’t tell the others,” you rejected his enthusiastic offer, “I think it would be nicer to just spend the day as usual, you know, doing the stuff I love.”

Ryan nodded thoughtfully.

“But then at least let me pay for dinner later.”

Eventually it took him some convincing, but he managed to get you to agree with his little present.

It was long past three am when you made it back to the hotel. You were so tired that you felt a little dizzy as you walked up the stairs in front of Ryan. The day had been exciting after all, but the best part had been spending time alone with Ryan.

When you had reached your room, you stopped and took out your keys.

“I really enjoyed this,” you smiled shyly, making Ryan grin.

“Me too, I had a great time.”

For a moment he stood in front of you awkwardly, then he bend down, and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over the shell of your ear, while the skin, where his lips had touched yours, felt as if it was burning up. “Sweet dreams.”

And with that he turned and walked down the corridor towards his own room, leaving you behind, star struck and not sure if you had just dreamt everything.

~*~

Needless to say that in that night you barely got any sleep. Your mind played the conversation you had had with Ryan over and over again, as if it was searching for mistakes you had made. But instead of finding countless things you could have expressed better, you felt more and more the butterflies that rose in your stomach. The mere thought of the drummer sent your mind spiralling and a stupid smile to your face. Next to you in the bed, Lisa was mumbling incoherent things in her sleep, and the sun was already on the rise when you also finally were able to close your eyes, and fall asleep.

~*~

You barely had slept for two hours, when Lucas woke all of you up mercilessly, announcing you would get a quick breakfast before you would have to go on the road again.

In the breakfast room, you met up with the others. Ryan seemed to have gotten barely more sleep than you, but his tired eyes lit up joyfully anyway when he spotted you.

During the ride to Philadelphia you fell asleep on the sofa on the bus, and only woke up in the afternoon, long after you had arrived at the venue. Apparently the others had decided to let you sleep, which you were incredibly thankful for.

Not feeling like joining the crew just yet, you pulled out your laptop, and started transferring the pictures of the prior day onto it. You clicked through the photographs you had taken in the New York City, the ones with Dallon on Time Square, and the few of high rising buildings on both sides of the streets you had walked down together.

After you had edited about half of the pictures that had turned out good enough, the door to the bus opened, and Ryan climbed in. When he saw you sitting on your computer, he walked over, and flopped down next to you, craning his head to see onto your screen.

“Did you sleep enough,” he asked, before giving up trying to see what you were working on, and instead leaned his head against the back rest.

“I guess so,” you chuckled, “Did you?”

“Debatable,” he grinned, “I mean, I definitely do not regret yesterday night, but Lucas really could have let us sleep for a couple of hours more, we were at the venue far too early anyway.”

For a moment you sat in silence, only the clicking of your mouse sounding through the bus as you continued toggling the contrast for a picture from the show last night. Then Ryan spoke up again.

“We ordered pizza, it should be arriving any minute. Do you want some?”

At the prospect of pizza you suddenly realized that, once again, you felt really hungry, so you nodded quickly, and the two of you climbed out of the bus, crossed the street, which was almost melting in the hot sun of the summer day, and escaped into the cool venue. Ryan had not been lying about the crew having ordered pizza, but he had not told the entire truth either.

The bar, which this time was in the same room as the stage, was decorated with pennants and balloons, and on top of the counter, next to a heap of pizza cartons, a big cake with white sugar letters spelling “Happy Birthday, (Y/N)” waited for you.

Everyone started cheering when you entered, and you helplessly stared at them. Nobody ever had made the effort to throw a surprise party for you, and even though this one was pretty low effort, you would never have expected anyone to do this for you, especially not from people you had just gotten to know about three weeks ago.

At the same time you felt embarrassed that they had gotten through so much trouble, just because of you. You turned to Ryan, who immediately lifted his hands up in defence, knowing you were going to accuse him of having told everyone that it was your birthday.

“Not me,” he defended, and you raised your eyebrows at him questioningly.

“I’m the guilty one,” Lucas suddenly chuckled, a sound which was rarely heard on tour. “Remember the contract? You had to write down your birthday.”

You sight, but not without a big smile on your face.

“Thank you guys so much, you really didn’t need to,” you thanked them.

“Oh yes we did,” Ryan and Dallon, almost at the same time, told you in a serious tone.

“Let’s eat the pizza before they get cold,” Luis announced, making everyone chuckle.

“Happy Birthday,” Lisa cheered when you finally stepped closer, and threw her arms around your neck, pulling you into a quick hug.

This hug was followed by the hugs of all the other crew members, some of them holding you tightly for several seconds, while others, like Jay, just patted your back.

But it did not matter, you could not remember ever having felt so loved in a group of people, and that all of you were entirely different, with so many different backgrounds, different stories, different personalities, made the whole thing just even more meaningful to you.

Only Lars refrained from hugging you, waving with a smile. You did not mind, and did not even have any time to think about it any further, because in that moment Ryan, the last person to not have hugged you, pulled you into his chest.

His arms closed around your back so tightly, as if he never wanted to let you go, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your nose in the dark flower shirt he was wearing, taking a deep breath of the, by now, so familiar smell. You could not say how much time had passed when he let you go eventually, it could have been seconds or hours, but you found yourself admitting that you would not have minded if the hug had continued for some more time.

Instead Dallon shoved a plate with pizza quadro frommagi into your hands, and all of you started eating happily. Somehow it felt like this was the most delicious pizza you had ever eaten, and even though you were not hungry anymore, you still decided on sharing another piece with Ryan, just so you had tried all of the different pizzas that had been ordered.

The venue staff had joined you by now, invited by Bill, and sponsored free drinks. After the pizza had been eaten up entirely, the small crowd decided, led by Luis, to sing a song for you, which ended up with you smiling like an idiot, and trying to hide behind Dallon, who cold heartedly pushed you back in front of him.

After that, the cake was distributed, and slowly the excited chatter died down and faded into the peaceful tranquillity that only fully bellies could cause.

You stood a little bit at the side, glad to finally not be the centre of attention anymore. Ryan walked over, a content grin on his face as he found you munching on your piece of birthday cake, which had turned out to be sponge cake with strawberry cream.

“Was it so bad now,” he asked jokingly, stealing some of the cream with the tip of his finger.

“Yes, it was,” you exclaimed wide eyed, making both of you giggle, “no, it was fine. The cake made up for the singing.”

Ryan chuckled at that, and shook his head, watching you how you continued digging in. He realized that it had a certain charm, the way you ate when you liked something, not caring about if it was too greasy, or unhealthy, or whatever. You knew what you liked, and you were not ashamed for it. He admired that.

After the show that night, everyone climbed back into the bus. There were still some leftovers of the cake, and while Bill decided to start driving towards the next town, the rest of the crew did a second little party in the living area. The cake was distributed in equal parts, so everyone got some, Charlie had put on some 50s rock’ n’ roll music, and everyone had squeezed on the sofas, chatting happily.

You were sitting between Dallon and Ryan. Dallon had his legs stretched out, sunken low into the sofa, so his head was almost on the height as yours. Ryan sat so close to you that your thighs were pressed closely together, but you could not find it in you to care about it, even though it was already really warm in the bus, and Ryan’s additional body heat did not anything to cool you down.

After a while he draped his arm over your shoulder, and you allowed yourself to snuggle into him, relaxing against his warm body, his firm chest, and to breath in his comforting scent.

It didn’t take long until the first people decided to go to bed, and after Ryan had fallen asleep multiple times as well, he too decided to call it a night. You decided to stay up a little longer, still talking to Luis, Charlie and Lisa, well, rather it was Lisa who was talking, and the rest listening.

She told the three of you about her crush on Jay, and how she was confused now that Lars continued flirting with her. After a few minutes you realised though that you were not really paying attention.

You already knew the story with Jay, and hearing Lisa talking about Lars made you feel uncomfortable, since you had the feeling that he was not serious with her, even less serious than he had been with you. Luckily Charlie and Luis soon decided that they were not too keen on listening to her whining for the rest of the night, so they announced that they would go to bed, and you took the opportunity and also headed to your bunk bed.

~*~

The next day was a day without show. After having finished the long drive from Philadelphia to Chicago, everyone was slightly exhausted, even though none of you, except for Bill and Lucas, who had both been driving, had worked.

“Three Beats” had a few dates for interviews, but other than that, the day was off. Still thrilled to be able to explore so many different places, you had once again decided on exploring the city.

This time it was not only Dallon who joined you, but Lisa, Lars and Ryan as well. Together you wandered through the city centre, ate lunch in a small Indonesian restaurant, explored a few parks, and sat down for an ice cream at a small café. It felt like holidays, being able to spend the day with these four people who you had grown close with, treating yourselves with sweets, and not having to care about anything in the world.

Lisa wanted to buy a fragile necklace at a small shop, and you and the guys had to wait almost an hour until she had finally decided on whether to get it or not. In the end, Lars decided he wanted to buy it for her, and she was overly giggly afterwards. But you did not find it in you to care about the flirting between the two of them. Instead you were too busy not to interpret anything into the fact that Ryan’s hand seemed to be constantly brushing against yours.

In the evening the air finally cooled down, and you met with the other half of the crew in a cosy bar at the edge of a park for dinner. Due to the warm weather everyone ordered salad, not feeling in the mood for anything heavier. The day eventually ended with everyone ordering some kind of sweet Caribbean cocktail before heading to the hotel, where you would spend the night.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #Ryan Seaman #ryan seaman multi chapter story #fanfiction #fanfic #multi chapter #multi chapter story #his smile will keep you safe #fluff #cute

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Two

Warnings: biphobia (I guess), mentions of emotional abuse

Word Count: 5 206

Even if you did not want to admit it, you were still shaky from the unexpected encounter with Lars when you were finally home. The whole bus ride over you had fought an internal battle over what to do.

Lars had hurt you in ways no one had ever before, and you had cut all strings to him, for good. But now, going on a several weeks-long tour with him, stuck in a bus every day, being unable to get away?

Yet on the other hand, this was your dream. Going on tour with a band, no matter how big, had been your dream for over ten years now, and you would not allow Lars to ruin this for you. You had promised to never let him ruin anything else for you ever again.

With a sigh you sat down on your bed, elbows resting on your folded legs, face buried in your hands. Lars and you went back a long time. First you had met in high school, and somehow you had ended up going to the same college. That’s where you had fallen in love with him.

Retrospectively, it was still a mystery to you, how you had been able to be in love with someone like him. His mood swings were legendary, he was far too convinced of himself, the first few months you had been in the same college classes, he had managed to completely ignore you, and when he said something to you it had been degrading.

Yet you had been in love. And over time he started to warm up to you. He got friendly, went out of his way for you, turned into the perfect gentleman. And by the beginning of the second year of college you had started dating. You had been as happy as never before in your life, especially considering the ongoing battle with your mental health since you were about fifteen.

For the first time in years, it had felt as if everything was working out the way it was supposed to be. You had a boyfriend who you were in love with, had friends, and even won a photography contest.

But by the end of the second year, it seemed as if luck had left you. Your mental health declined, and soon afterwards you started seeing a therapist, knowing that even with their help the ultimate breakdown was unavoidable. Lars in the meantime seemed to be thriving. He went out almost every night, seemed happier than ever, and spent less and less time with you. In the state of your worsening illness, it made sense to you that he did not want to be around you.

Looking back on it, you should have known earlier that he was cheating. Needless to say that you were beyond heartbroken, when you came into the lecture room, and found him making out with another girl.

He swore he still loved you, that it would never happen again, that he had no idea why he had done it, and being the gentlehearted person you were, you gave him a second chance. This event made you spiral downwards quickly nonetheless. And while you were in hospital to find a good combination of meds to make you feel better, Lars graduated college.

And cheated again.

You had still no clue where you had taken the energy from to throw him out this quickly, and break up with him so cleanly, after you had found out that for months he had had a second girlfriend at the side, especially since you had just been released from the hospital, but you did.

Within half a day you had cleaned your apartment of things he had given to you, stuff he had left over at your place, and all the pictures you had taken together.

But it left scares. The self-esteem of a depressed person is in the gutter anyway, and having the person you thought was the one for life cheat on you did not make anything better at all.

But you recovered. You got better. You fought. Sometimes, when you were about to give up, you remembered that you would not give Lars the satisfaction of knowing that he had destroyed your life, so you kept fighting. You finished college, started getting practical experience, got this job, and now even the offer to go on a tour with bands! Maybe your mental health still was not always perfect, but with the meds, and the occasional meetings with your therapist, the coping mechanisms you had learned, and the support of your family and your boss (who always was very understanding whenever you needed a week off) you were leading a good life. And Lars would not take that away from you, he would not take this tour away from you.

Having come to that conclusion, you took a deep breath, and got up from your bed. Putting on your favourite Beatles album, you started searching for a small suitcase, and began packing.

Deciding on what to pack turned out easier than you had imagined. Thanks to the detailed weather description in the different states this time of the year, you quickly had assembled a small collection of clothes, backed up with shirts and trousers to change into, if the first set got dirty.

Shampoo and shower gel were quickly packed, since you had gotten some sort of solid shampoo, resembling a soap bar, which you were excited to try out. Traveling toothbrush, and toothpaste, body lotion and some facial cream, plus the your favourite basics for make-up, and two pair of different shoes to match cold and hot weather, and the packing was completed.

By now the day had passed, and the sun sunk behind the houses of your neighbourhood, allowing darkness to take its place.

You were still shaking with excitement for the coming day, yet the knowledge of having to spend the following weeks on minimal space with your ex-boyfriend, who happened to be the first and last ex-boyfriend, and therefore the only one, was making you feel sick.

When the clock finally showed 10pm, you decided to go to bed after a quick dinner. Putting an alarm for the following day, you fell asleep surprisingly quickly, even though your mind was still racing, filled with all the amazing things that might happen in the following two months.

~*~

You woke up shortly before your alarm clock was able to tear you out of your sleep. For a moment you wondered where this excited tickling came from that flooded your body the second you opened your eyes, but you immediately remembered. You would go on a tour, as photographer for a band. You would get to travel the country, meet new people, get to know lots and lots of different places.

Never before in your life had you been out of bed quicker. Even though you still had two hours before you had to leave the house, you hurried downstairs into the kitchen. Thankfully your fridge was almost empty, which in any other situation would have been worrisome, but, since you would not be home for a fair while, there was no food that you would have to throw away. Out of the yogurt and the milk you still had, mixed with oatmeal and fruit, you quickly prepared a delicious breakfast that would surely keep you filled for several hours.

After you had eaten, you did the dishes and took a shower. Too unmotivated to blow dry your hair, you dried it off with a towel and pulled the long hair into a ponytail, which resulted in perfectly showing off your shaved side. You still absolutely loved the new haircut. No matter what anyone had to say, for the first time in a long time you felt like yourself. Remembering you had already prepared the clothes for the journey you walked back into your bedroom and dressed into some black jeans, paired off with an old, white band shirt and a hoody.

With still plenty of time left, you carefully applied a little bit of make-up. You did not want to overdo it, since you would probably spend the entire day in a car, but a tinted day cream, and a tiny bit of mascara always made you feel more comfortable. Adding to that was the softly red coloured lip balm you had applied.

Once you were finished, you started making a tour through the house. You started in the bathroom, making sure all the tabs were closed properly. Walking through the rooms you unplugged the electronics, and put the roller shutter halfway down, so it would not be as easy to tell if someone was home. A quick look on your watch told you that you had just enough time to go over to the neighbours to ask them to check your mailbox once a week, so you did that.

And then the journey began.

For one last time you checked if you really had all your documents, your ID, your keys to lock the flat, your money, and your credit card, then you grabbed your suitcase and the bag with the camera, and left the flat, locking the door behind yourself.

With the bus being on time, you arrived at the address, you had been given the day prior, several minutes early. A huge touring bus was standing in front to the house, and Lucas was just in the process of carrying a case, probably containing an instrument, to it.

“Good morning,” you greeted the man, who today had gone without his buns.

“(Y/n), good morning,” he replied, shoving the case into the baggage department, and making sure it was standing securely, “you’re early!”

“9am, wasn’t that the deal,” you asked, handing Lucas the bag with the camera which he was holding his arm out for.

“Yeah, just wouldn’t expect anyone to be on time. The others definitely aren’t. Except for Dallon and Ryan. Just leave the suitcase, and go inside to get to know them,” he suggested.

Handing him your suitcase, you followed his advice, and climbed up the few steps towards the door, which was standing open. The hallway still smelled of plastic, but now there were cases with instruments standing on the floor, making walking almost a little dangerous, especially with how scared you were to accidently fall onto one of the cases and break something. From upstairs you heard the voices of two men, so you followed the sound up the stairs. Here were a couple of suitcases, which probably belonged to the men talking, and to Lucas.

You found the two in the same room in which the meeting had taken place yesterday. The first man you saw was exceptionally tall. His brown hair was styled to stand up on the front and he was wearing a black jacket, paired with a ripped jeans. The other man was standing with his back to you, doodling on the whiteboard. He had blue hair, shaved at one side, longer on the other, just like yours. He too wore jeans, and a red white checked shirt.

Nervously you cleared your throat, causing the two men to spin around to you. The tall one, who had been leaning against the table, had blue eyes, that took you in with surprise, but your attention was entirely fixed on the man at the board. He had turned around as well, and when his chocolate brown eyes found your face, he furrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Hey,” you greeted awkwardly, as you recognized the man who had helped you up yesterday, after you had been pushed to the ground in the rain.

“So we meet again,” the brown eyed one chuckled, his face now showing off a beautiful smile, “how’s the hand?”

The other one turned to him.

“You know each other?”

“Yeah, I had a… let’s call it accident, yesterday, and he was kind enough to help,” you explained, burying your hands in the pockets of your trousers, “Hand’s fine by the way, thanks.”

“That’s good,” the brown eyed man smiled softly.

“I’m Dallon,” the tall one introduced, “I play bass and sing. I guess you’re the photographer?”

“Yup,” you nodded, nervously bouncing on your heels, “Got the job just yesterday.”

“Yeah, Lucas told us. Sorry we didn’t meet any earlier, we just had to do some recording before we’re on the road for the next weeks,” Dallon explained. “I guess you know each other already.”

“Not really,” his bandmate admitted, “I’m Ryan, I play drums.”

“(Y/n), nice to meet you.”

“Dallon, Ryan! Suitcases!” Lucas’ voice boomed through the building.

“That’s our signal,” Dallon chuckled, and walked past you into the corridor, picking up two of the suitcases.

“Can I help something,” you asked, following him, Ryan right behind you.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dallon assured, but that did not stop you from picking up the last suitcase that was left in the corridor after Ryan also had taken two, and carrying it down the stairs.

In the hallway the cases had disappeared by now, and outside the door, Jay, Charlie, Luis and Lisa were waiting on the pavement next to the bus. Lucas helped you lifting the last suitcase into it, then walked over to the baggage department, and threw the door shut.

“Only one missing now is light guy,” announced Bill, who appeared in the door, pulling it closed and locking it.

“As always,” Ryan mumbled.

Much to your amusement he did not seem too fond of Lars, which was at least a little bit of reassurance.

“His problem, he’s the one who doesn’t get the info,” Lucas decided, “So, as you all know, first stop on the tour is Phoenix tomorrow. We’ll have a drive of about ten hours ahead of us, meaning we should be there by evening, if things go as planned. Any questions?”

Since nobody spoke up, Lucas reached for the handle of the door into the bus, and opened it.

Following the other crew members on board, your eyes widened at the sight. Facing the door stood a small sofa. Next to it was a door, probably leading into the cabin for the driver; and next to that stood another sofa. Turning to your left, you discovered a small kitchen, fully equipped with a fridge, a tiny stove and a small sink. Next to the fridge, facing the sofas, a table with two benches was installed, offering enough space for about four people to sit. Overwhelmed by the sight, you had stopped in your steps, and now hurried to keep up with the others who had walked past the kitchen.

You discovered that there were two tiny bathrooms, one on each side of the bus, and walking through another door, you found yourself surrounded by bunk beds. In total there were twelve, always three on top of each other, on both sides of the bus and in two rows. Due to the nine people in the small space it was very crowded and you quickly stepped aside, as Luis tried throwing his backpack into one of the upper bunks.

“Where do you want to sleep,” Dallon asked, looking over the other people directly at you.

He must have noticed that you felt slightly lost, so he tried to include you.

Helplessly you shrugged.

“You like sleeping high up,” he inquired, earning another shrug from you, “Well, in this case…”

With just one quick movement he basically threw your suitcase into another of the highest bunk beds.

“Congrats, now it’s your job to guard Ryan an me,” he grinned and winked at you, before he sat down on the lowest bunk bed underneath yours, and started opening his suitcase.

After watching all the other doing pretty much the same, you decided to also unpack. Skilfully you manoeuvred yourself to the ladder that lead to your bed, and climbed up. The bunk bed was not very big, and just high enough for you to sit upright. On one end of the matrass was a shelf for the things you had brought, on the other end you found the tiniest wardrobe you had ever seen. Grinning you opened your suitcase and unpacked your all your things, including the hygiene products, into the small wardrobe.

All the others seemed to be finished at about the same time as you, because the chattering started picking up slowly. Curiously you poked your head out of your bunk, interested in seeing who was sleeping where.

As far as you could tell, Luis had gotten the other highest bunk on your side of the bus. Underneath him, Jay and Charlie had claimed their beds. The two highest bunks on the other side of the bus were empty, but in the middle one, facing the opening band, Lisa had unpacked her things, and in the other one Bill was about to put a couple of books into the shelf. Lucas was nowhere in sight, but you guessed he was sleeping underneath of Bill. And last but not least, Ryan and Dallon had chosen the bunks under you; Ryan in the middle, and Dallon closest to the floor.

“Oh, light guy’s here,” Bill suddenly noticed.

You felt your body going into panic mode as you turned your head, and locked eyes with your former boyfriend. He noticed you too, but pretended not to know you, as he threw his bag onto the bed beneath Lisa.

Releasing the breath you had been holding, you looked down and found Ryan grinning up at you.

“Everything alright up there,” he asked happily, obviously glad that the tour was about to begin.

“Yeah, pretty much,” you agreed, grinning back at him.

“Lucas said you take the most amazing pictures of concerts, how come you haven’t been signed to a label yet,” he wondered, blowing a strand of his blue hair out of his eyes.

“Probably because I never tried,” you confessed with a shrug, making him gasp quietly, “Well, it would take confidence to say my pictures are any good, and I sort of lack said confidence most of the time.”

“Well, well, if that’s the only problem, then let’s make sure you build this confidence during the tour,” Ryan suggested, and then disappeared inside his bunk with a grin and a wink towards you.

You sat back up properly again, and were suddenly faced with Lars. He stood closer to you than you liked, his grey eyes boring into you, and for a split second you had the feeling he was looking into the bottom of your soul, just like he always used to do in college.

“Now what are you doing here,” he asked casually.

Oh, he wanted to play the ‘I pretend not to know what happened between us’-game? Alright, probably better than fighting. You just had the slight feeling that it would not stay at that.

“Uhm, Lucas hired me. As a photographer” you explained, secretly a little proud of it. “And you?”

“I’m doing the lights,” he answered immediately, “so, how are things?”

“Good, things are good.”

You really did not feel like giving him too much insight into your life. He had ripped your heart out, admittedly years ago, but you did not want to offer the painfully stuck-together pieces of it for him to rip them apart again.

“Now that’s a lot of detail,” he chuckled. “Tell me more?”

“What kind of details,” you wondered, already having a feeling what he would ask for. “I have a great job, which I love very much. I started doing aikido a few years back, I got my own flat…”

“And do you have a boyfriend?”

There it was. Of course he would ask that.

“Why not a girlfriend,” you retorted, having already been prepared for this question.

You were about to turn away, but he spoke up again.

“Oh come on, we both know you’re not into girls. As much as you were into me, you can’t be into girls,” he spoke, his voice taking the same snarly sound which you remembered so vividly.

So it had not been just your imagination.

“You haven’t seen me in years, you know nothing about me,” you hissed, causing his eyes to widen in surprise.

But the initial surprise quickly disappeared and got replaced by anger, the same type of anger he always got into when you dared disagreeing with him.

He was about to shoot an evil comment your way, maybe worse, when all of a sudden Ryan’s head popped into your view. He must have gotten out of his bunk without you noticing, and now was standing next to Lars, as if he did not notice his aggressive posture. And yet you were pretty certain that he had a good idea about what was happening.

“You two know each other,” he asked innocently, his brown eyes curiously flickering from Lars over to you, where their expression changed slightly, and they took a short look of worry, before pretending this curiosity again.

Even though you had always considered Lars tall, and Ryan was by far not as tall as Dallon, Ryan still was about two inches taller than Lars. Realizing that he had no way of approaching you now without getting into trouble, Lars just shook his head, and left the bunk area, leaving Ryan and you as the only two behind.

“You alright,” he asked.

For some reason it seemed always to be Ryan who had to help you. You hoped to be able to return the favour one day.

“Yeah, thanks,” you mumbled, dangling your legs off the bed.

“You two got history,” Ryan wondered, trying not to sound too interested.

“A little. We- we used to date, back in college. That was years ago,” you admitted, “I guess a part of me will never get rid of the insecurity he caused in me.”

Ryan was about to ask what you meant, but in just that moment the motor of the heavy bus awoke to life, causing the floor to vibrate.

“Maybe we should join the others,” he suggested instead, and when you nodded, he helped you off the bed.

The warmth of his hands against yours felt so different from what you had once known from Lars. Lars’s hands had always been cool and a little moist, but Ryan’s hands were warm and dry. You tried not to give this realization a second thought, and instead murmured a thank you to Ryan, before walking out into the kitchen, closely followed by him.

~*~

The drive was, as expected, long. Through the windows of the bus you watched the landscape fly by. Never before in your life had you ridden on a vehicle for such a long time.

Suddenly you felt very small and inexperienced. All of the people on the bus with you had travelled far beyond the state borders, and you? The only time you had left the outskirts of Salt Lake City, it had been for a school trip to a farm.

Now the bus was racing past unknown mountains in the distance, and past citied you had only heard the name of. Slowly you began to realize the scale of the state you lived in, and knowing that Utah was only one of fifty… the size of the country seemed unimaginable to you.

You had lost the feeling of time, when suddenly somebody sat down next to you, and tore you out of your trance.

“Hey,” Lisa greeted gently. Her brown eyes flickered to the window and back to you, “the landscape’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You nodded; your throat seemed to have dried out while you had marvelled at the world outside the city.

“Its’s so vast,” you agreed, turning you head back to the window, your eyes following the mountain tops at the horizon.

“You haven’t been out of the city often,” Lisa guessed, and again you nodded.

“Never had a reason to,” you explained, “I think… I mean I knew how big the country is, but- I feel like I finally understand how much change there can be within a hundred miles.”

“It can be overwhelming,” she agreed.

For a while the two of you sat in silence. A part of your brain registered that she smelled faintly of roses, and it made you smile. She seemed like a cute girl, friendly, innocent. Wearing this flowery perfume matched her perfectly.

Outside, you passed fields and farms, small forests that engulfed the high way, and in the distance the mountains continued spiking into the sky. You had believed that the drive might be boring, but you were too fascinated by the new sceneries that presented themselves to you every second to even participate in one of the conversations that were going on.

Only when Lisa next to you quietly sighed, you turned your attention back to her.

“You okay,” you asked, scrutinizing her worriedly.

“I’m fine,” she replied, but you could tell there was something on her mind.

Her chin was resting in her hand, supporting her head while her elbows were sitting on the table, as if she was following a boring lesson in school. Your eyes followed the direction she was looking into, and found Jay, who was sitting on the sofa next to the door to the driver’s cabin. Realization dawned on you, and you could not help the little smile that tucked on your lips.

“Jay, hm?”

Shocked she turned her head to look at you with wide, brown eyes.

“Is it that obvious,” she asked concerned, and you giggled.

“I know this kind of look, trust me,” you shrugged, “so, tell me. Is there something between the two of you?”

“Ha, I wish,” Lisa groaned, “I don’t think he even knows I exist. All the girls love him, honestly how couldn’t they? And he’s so witty and kind and clever…”

You rolled your eyes in amusement; oh yeah, you knew this feeling only too well. This sort of infatuation was what you had felt for Lars, and in your experience this sort of irrational attraction to another human only caused pain in the end.

But you did not say it. It did not seem appropriate. After all, the two of you had just met yesterday, and while you were the only two women on the bus, which made you somewhat of conspirators, you felt like you would overstep your boundaries with such a comment.

Around noon the bus stopped at a gas station. The air outside was hot and dry, and yet it was nice to feel solid ground under your feet again. You stretched your arms over your head, and yawned sleepily. The warm weather did not necessarily invite for moving around much, yet you decided on walking around for a bit.

Dallon, Luis, Charlie and Bill walked into the gas station to buy some snacks while Lucas started refilling the tank of the bus. Lisa was lingering around in the shadow of the bus, trying to get some fresh air. Looking around further, you found Jay igniting a cigarette several feet away from the station, and Ryan was, just like you walking around aimlessly, trying to revive his legs. Lars was nowhere in sight.

You really wondered how things would go on with Lars. Under absolutely no circumstances whatsoever you planned on ever getting back together with him. He had hurt you enough for a lifetime; you would not give him a second chance to do this again. But it did not seem like he had the same plans. The questions he had asked you on the bus earlier made you feel uncomfortable, and you wondered what he would have done, had it not been for Ryan interfering.

Slowly you started to sweat in the heat of the sun, yet you refused to go back onto the bus. The limited space would start feeling restricting soon enough, and you were not in the mood to be alone with Lars, so you waited in the shadow of the gas station, until Luis and Dallon walked back outside, both holding a bottle of cooled mineral water.

“So,” Dallon asked, turning to you once he had spotted you standing by the side of the building, “tell us a little bit about yourself.”

Nervously you shuffled your feet through the dust.

“Not much to tell there, I’m a rather dull person,” you excused, making Luis raise his eyebrows.

“Your haircut says something different,” he told you, making you smile shyly.

“Thanks, it’s just something I’ve wanted to try out for a long time,” you admitted.

“See, that’s already valuable information, you always tried to fit in, and finally got the courage to do more of what you like,” Dallon grinned.

“If you say so,” you shrugged, “anything else you want to know?”

“Why did you decide on doing photography,” Luis immediately asked.

From the corner of your eye you noticed that Ryan had stopped his pacing in front of the gas station. Instead he had turned towards the group, and was listening in from several meters away.

For a moment you hesitated. Would they judge you if you told them you had always wanted to take pictures of bands, capturing the energy, the music, the beat of the concerts? Why should they though?

“When I first got into music as a teenager, there were rarely good pictures of concerts to be found anywhere. So I sort of decided that I wanted to change that. Not just document a person’s face, or do a close-up of someone playing the guitar, but really transfer the vibe of the concert, the emotions of the music, through a picture to someone who hadn’t seen it live.”

When you stopped talking the men looked down at you, clear awe written into their faces.

“That sounds like one hell of a goal,” Luis finally stuttered out, and Dallon nodded.

“With such intentions, it is no surprise your work is this good.”

“Have you seen some pics,” you asked, suddenly feeling nervous. You had not expected anyone but Lucas to be familiar with your work.

“Lucas showed Ryan and me a few photos from the website,” Dallon explained.

Your conversation got interrupted by the tour manager, who called everyone back to the bus so you could continue your journey. Since you felt tired from all the exciting changes so far, you decided to take a nap.

You crawled into your bunk bed, climbing past Ryan’s bunk which had small curtains drawn in front of it, and settled in your own bed. Pulling your own curtains closed as well, you engulfed yourself in the little, precious private space. Since the ceiling was so close above you, it felt like the bunk bed was a cosy, little cave.

Lying down on your side, you pulled your knees to your chest. Just now you noticed that there was a small, tinted window which allowed you to look outside. Underneath you the bus awoke to life once more, and you watched the landscape pass by again. It felt strange, lying in a moving vehicle, but it sparked a feeling of adventure inside of you. And before you even knew it, you had fallen asleep.

Chapter Three

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman mood board #Ryan Seaman #fanfiction #fanfic #ryan seaman imagine #idkhow #I don't know how but they found me #his smile will keep you safe #chapter two #multi chapter #ryan seaman multi chapter story

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Four

Warnings: stalking (?), harassment, angry Dallon (if that counts)

Word Count: 5 101

The following days much resembled the past day. Usually you travelled during the night, which allowed enough time during the day to prepare the venue. While the others helped installing the electronics, taped cables to the stage, or tuned instruments, you sat at your laptop, and dug through heaps and heaps of pictures you had taken. Lucas was fascinated by how many good shots you had taken, and after every concert he made you post three or four of the best ones on social media for the band.

You were unfamiliar with managing a band’s Instagram page, but you quickly learned to imitate the words of whoever had posted the previous tour photos. Sometimes posts appeared that you had not made, and since they were signed off with Dallon, and sometimes Ryan, you assumed the two musicians also had access to the page, and sometimes liked to share experiences on there.

The fourth concert on tour was a festival. The band played in the afternoon, which gave you the rare opportunity of taking pictures in the daylight. Also the stage was so big, that Lucas suggested you should work from the stage, which opened a whole new, and yet unexplored range of angles from which you were able to document the two artists.

Almost a week into the tour, you still had not managed to find a proper explanation for the emotions that had sparked inside your chest when you had first seen Ryan play. It still threw you off every time he as much as smiled at you with his beautiful smile; and your heart grew at the sight.

Between shows and during meals and literally whenever he had a free moment, he came over to where you were, and started talking to you. It was not obtrusive, in the contrary. You enjoyed his company, and he always gave you the feeling of being safe around him. Maybe that was connected to how he had interrupted Lars and you on the very first day of tour, you were not sure, but even if Ryan was not paying you company just so Lars would leave you alone, he was comfortable to be around. He had a way of asking questions and striking up conversations without making it too personal.

In fact, he had never really asked you any personal question since he had asked if Lars and you had history. You appreciated that. It did not feel right to share your heart and soul with anyone on the tour bus yet, and Ryan seemed to understand. And while you got to know each other merely by talking about random things that came to mind, you found yourself admiring the drummer more and more.

It was crazy, because it had just been one week that you knew him, but he drew you in. Of course he was not bad to look at; his dark eyes held warmth you could not explain, his blue hair was soft looking, his smile lit up the darkest rooms.

But it was not just his looks, or his behaviour. It was undeniable that you felt special every time he held a door open for you, or smiled so triumphantly into your camera when he noticed you taking pictures. It was not only that, but what you would have described as the atmosphere around him. It was like the air surrounding him was cleaner, fresher, comfortably warm, and everything felt safe when he was close. He radiated peace, and yet he got so bubbly and cheerful at times that it made you laugh gleefully at his enthusiasm. You two clicked, and it was like both of you had silently agreed on keeping each other close.

While your fondness of Ryan grew from day to day, hell, hour to hour, the same could hardly be said about how you felt about Lars. The technician had left you alone after the first concert, just as you had told him to, and for two blissful days you had hoped it would never change, but it did.

It started out with him standing by your bunk every morning, causing you to almost getting a heart attack of the unpleasant kind as soon as you had sat up. He constantly tried to guilt trip you into spending time with him, or worse, into touching him.

He brought coffee, which in itself would have been nice if you had not told him several times that you had stopped drinking coffee because the caffeine made you jittery.

He constantly tried to get you food, which also would have been nice, but you preferred getting the food yourself.

He asked if you could help him with the electronics, which was in itself bullshit, because no matter how good you were at photographing, you had not the faintest clue about the technology needed to light up a stage.

Every time he got the chance, he tried to trap you in a room with him, and so far you had only escaped by pure luck.

You were thankful for every second Ryan was by your side because Lars did not dare approaching you while Ryan was around.

And while all the physical advances by Lars made you want to scream, the words made you feel not better in the slightest. It started out with the usual pic up lines, which you waved off, ignored, or answered in the most negative ways imaginable.

Then the innuendos started. They made you feel uncomfortable, and the mere thought that you once had shared the bed with a man who was now trying to pressure someone, you, into an intimate relationship like this made you angry beyond words. And it made you feel sick. It was not like you had not told him to leave you alone. You had lost count of how many times you had told him phrases like “I am not interested in you”, “Leave me alone”, “I don’t want you to touch me”, or “I don’t want your attention”.

And by now even the rest of the crew had started to notice that something was going on. You had the definite feeling that Lars hoped to use them indirectly as a weapon against you, as if you would stop speaking up against him if they were around.

But you knew this game.

He had done exactly this before. He had stopped you from ending things with him after you had found out he had cheated the first time, by making you afraid of what the other people might think.

“You don’t want to seem ungrateful for having a boyfriend,” he had said, and you still felt your stomach acid bubble up when you remembered how he had guilt tripped you into staying with him.

And having a mental illness that already made you believe everyone hated you and that you were worth nothing had only made it easier for him.

But not anymore. You were your own person. If the others thought you were being ungrateful, then that was their problem, not yours. It was not your job to please anybody. Your job was to take pictures. And that was all. You had rights, including the right of choosing who was allowed to touch you, and now, years after the terror Lars had put you through, you knew of these rights, and were prepared to make use of them.

But after the first week things escalated.

The show, this night in Washington DC, had ended, and you were sitting backstage on your own. The opening band was at the merch table, signing autographs, and Ryan and Dallon were both in the showers, while Bill and Lucas were packing up the things on stage.

You were sitting on a table in the changing room backstage, legs crossed, elbows resting on your knees while you clicked through the camera, and looked at the pictures you had taken during the day. You had started feeling comfortable round the crew so that you often just took random snaps on the bus or during sound check.

You liked taking pictures of Ryan the most. The way his hair fell into his face, his dark eyes his pink lips, all of these attributes made it addicting to capture him. You loved playing with the light that fell onto his features, how his hair sometimes covered half of his face in shadow, or how golden sunlight made his eyes glow in the warm colour of orange amber.

And when he caught you taking these pictures, he smiled.

He smiled so widely, that you thought it could never fade of his face again. His eyes squeezed together adorably, the skin around them crinkling joyfully while dimples appeared in his cheeks, which made him even cuter.

Not that you said any of these things out loud, you did not even allow yourself thinking them most of the time, but that did not stop you from taking these pictures.

Now, sitting on this table backstage while the chatter of happy fans sounded from outside, and the running water from the showers created a pleasant background noise, you looked through these pictures, realizing you had almost taken fifty in a row of Ryan on the bus today.

Shaking your head with a fond smile, you continued clicking to the next picture as the door to the stage opened. Out of reflex you looked up, and sighed when you saw that it was Lars who had entered. That he closed the door behind him was no good sign.

“Hello my love,” he cooed, making a cold shiver run down your spine.

“Not your love,” you replied immediately before looking back to your camera.

You still hoped that ignoring him would make him realize that you wanted nothing to do with his manipulating ass, but deep inside a part of you knew that it did not work like that.

“Did you take many sweet snaps of me,” he asked, approaching you now.

You felt your heart speed up, and adrenaline started being released into your body, preparing you for defence, which inevitably was going to be necessary. Not answering, you turned your camera off, but kept it in your hands, as suddenly Lars appeared in your line of vision. His fists slammed down on the table on either side of you, caging you, his face mere inches away from yours.

“I don’t like the way you keep ignoring me, doll,” he hissed, grabbing your chin with one hand painfully.

“Don’t touch me,” you screamed, and with all the force you could muster, you pushed him away from you, giving you enough space to jump of the table.

Within a split second he had run forwards again, and was about to either grab you, or hurt you, but you, in complete panic, screamed again.

“Don’t touch me, don’t touch me! Leave me alone,” your voice was so loud that it cracked and it was painful in your ears, and seemingly in his too, because he stopped and held the palms of his hands over his ears. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

The adrenaline that thankfully was already full on flooding through your body, made it possible for you to sprint to the door, and tear it open, just as Dallon, very wet, just holding a towel in front of his body poked his head out of one of the bathrooms.

“What’s going on in here,” he asked, is voice dangerously low, as if he was warning Lars not to move an inch.

You barely noticed the bassist though, because you had already stumbled outside. Your camera, hanging on your side by the strap around your neck and one shoulder, crashing into your back with every second step you took, but you did not care. Your feet carried you away and away from the room where Lars had threatened you, and bursting through a couple of doors, you soon found yourself curled into the tiniest ball in a corner of your bunk bed.

The curtains to your bed were drawn, only a tiny gap allowing you to keep an eye on the door of the department. Shaking terribly you had covered yourself with your blanket so on first glance it would look like it was only your blanket thrown in the corner of the bunk. Your heart was beating so fast that you feared you would faint, and it hurt, feeling it crash against your chest repeatedly.

You knew you should not feel tired, but you did, and tears started welling up in your eyes. So you crawled deeper into the corner, curled tighter together, the camera pressing into your hip uncomfortably, and you tried to sob as quietly as possible, just to make no sound whatsoever.

You heard the voices outside, the trunk got opened and closed, and the door to the bus was used several times, but no one came into the bunk area. You were still shaking, silent tears running over your cheeks, as suddenly the handle of the door moved, and a moment later a thin beam of orange light peeked into the room. Someone, who was taller than you, slipped in, and immediately closed the door again.

Alarmed you held your breath, scared that Lars had found you now, and while all the others were busy, he would take his revenge. Instead the familiar voice of another man quietly called your name. It felt like big chains were falling off your heart as you recognised Ryan’s voice, and quickly you croaked an answer. A second later the curtain at your bed was pushed aside.

“You in here,” he asked.

His voice was very quiet, calm, but sounded relieved, as if he had been looking for you.

“Yes,” you answered; your voice was wet with tears, and raspy from crying.

Reaching his hand for the switch of the small lamp that was installed in all the bunks, Ryan turned on the light. His eyes flickered over the matrass until he spotted your eyes blinking out from underneath the blanket in the corner.

“What happened,” he asked, moving along the bunk, the curtain falling over his back so if anybody entered the room they could not see you.

He was not asking if you were okay, because it was obvious that you were not.

“I-“

You hesitated. No matter how badly you wanted Ryan to understand what was going on, why you were so scared of spending time alone, you did not feel like going through the events back in the venue again.

Ryan seemed to understand, so he nodded, and quickly stepped to the door.

“She’s in here, we can go,” he announced.

Then he closed the door again, and came back to your bed. Once again he slipped under the curtain, his arms resting on the edge of your matrass, and he lay his chin down on his forearms.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, you know,” he finally spoke, “but if you want to, I’m here to listen to you, I promise. And I won’t tell anyone what happened. Okay?”

You nodded, still buried deeply in your blanket.

Carefully Ryan reached out a hand, and pulled a corner of the blanket away, revealing your knee, which he patted gently. The small contact between Ryan’s hand and your trousers made you shiver comfortably, and some of the tension fell away, making you relax finally.

“Are you scared of someone,” he asked.

You knew that while he had refrained from asking too personal questions during the past week, he ached to help you.

Quietly you nodded.

“Someone on the bus?”

Another nod.

For a moment he seemed to be considering something, biting his lip. The motor of the bus turned on, and seconds after the huge vehicle started moving.

“If you need anything, you know you can always talk to me, right,” he finally said, obviously having pushed whatever he had been thinking about earlier, out of his mind.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

Ryan gave you a sweet smile, and dove out from under the curtain. Judging from the sounds that followed he had climbed into his own bed underneath yours and pulled the curtain closed. You had no idea for how long you had been curled into this tiny ball, your eyes still fixed on the door to the living area, before you fell asleep, chased by nightmares.

~*~

Unbeknownst to you, Dallon had had a talk with Lars. He had heard your cries in the room backstage, and when he saw you escape the way you did, he felt a rage bubble up in his stomach he had never felt before. He had immediately guessed that Lars had tried to force something you did not like, and being the father of a girl himself, the mere thought of anyone touching his daughter, even if she would be in her mid-twenties, ignited white burning rage.

Even though he had not been dressed in anything but a towel, he had warned Lars to stay away from you, and by the intimidated expression on the technician’s face, he assumed Lars had understood the warning.

Later he had asked Ryan to check on you, not disclosing the whole truth, only mentioning that you had seemed upset.

After Ryan had crawled into his own bed, he could not stop thinking about what could have happened. He liked you, a lot. He adored the way you always spoke your mind, and how you were so passionate about your work. Seeing you so scared and upset him, made his heart break.

But he knew that pushing you to tell him anything would only cause you to shut yourself off, so he had to wait until you decided to tell him yourself. He wanted to help you so badly, hold you and tell you that he would keep you safe, but he was not sure if you would allow him to, and he was bad at handling rejections. He knew he would cut himself off from everyone should you deny him to help you, so he did not risk it, not yet at least. And so he stayed awake, always keeping his eyes fixed on the gap in his curtain, making sure nobody would approach your bed.

~*~

The following days were hard for you. Every second you were scared you would be left alone and Lars would try to get to you again. Dallon made sure he was always close by, but you did not know that, and even though Ryan did not know who exactly had scared you so much, he too made sure never to be too far away.

During the shows you stayed in the area that was shielded by security, and during the days, when everyone was working, you were always sitting in the bus together with the bands, or you locked yourself in one of the tiny bathrooms until you were sure somebody other than Lars was on the bus with you.

Being in a state of constant alarm was exhausting, and you found yourself waking up in cold sweat from nightmares.

All of this went on for four days without further incidents, and then, all of a sudden, in just one moment of distraction, you found yourself alone on the bus.

You were sitting on one of the sofas, laptop on your knees. It was late at night, one of the nights in which you were traveling, and Bill had stopped at a gas station, where everyone had decided to get dinner. When Ryan had asked you if you wanted to join, you had said that you just wanted to finish going through these pictures real quickly and would join them in a minute. Now this minute had stretched in almost ten minutes, and suddenly the handle of the door toggled.

You did not look up, until the person was standing right in front of you. Their shins were almost touching your knees, and you had to put your head into your neck to be able to see their face. Recognizing Lars, you flinched and automatically leant away from him. Every cell in your body was disgusted at the mere thought of his touch.

“Could you please take a step back, I feel uncomfortable,” you asked as politely as possible, but he only shuffled closer.

You tried to pull your legs away, but he had already leant down, his hands pressing against the back rest on both sides of your shoulders, his face right in front of you.

“I think you haven’t understood what it means to be mine,” he whispered.

His breath smelled badly, like rotten meat, and you wondered how you had never noticed before.

“I’m not yours,” you spit, refusing to be intimidated by him, even though his physical presence alone was far more impressive than yours.

You had no clue what the best tactics were to get out of this situation. Play along and then run when least expected? Attack? Argue?

“You were, and you ran away, but only to come back to me once more. We’re destined to be together, how can’t you see that,” he asked, his mouth brushing along your ear, causing you to whimper in disgust.

“Leave me alone,” you begged, but he only shook his head.

“We are one,” he mumbled, “we belong together. You know that. Why can’t you admit it?”

He was looking at you again, his eyes flickering closed as he lowered his head to kiss you. Using the moment, you pushed him off of you, not with your arms as you had done last time, but with your feet which you had pulled up on the sofa. With full force you pressed your feet into his stomach and pushed him off, using the back rest to stabilize yourself. Unluckily he was not as surprised by your attack as you had hoped.

Instead he had you cornered against the wall the same second you had jumped up to run. In a desperate act you tried to punch him but within a split second he had pinned your arms over your head against the wall, holding you so tightly that you were sure it would leave bruises.

Panic washed over you, wave after wave after wave. Your heart was pumping in your chest, screaming and beating against your ribcage, and you did the same against his restraints. You struggled and scream with as much air as you were able to get into your lungs. Blood was rushing in your ears, and you did not know if it was from fear or because you were about to pass out. But either way, you would not go down without a fight.

Still screaming as loud as you could, you prepared to bite whatever came close enough to your face, and you would take no pity, even if it would be his nose.

But before Lars was able to do anything more, the door flew open, crashing into the wall, and he got pulled off of you. Not even looking up at who had come to your rescue, you scrambled away as far as possible from your offender, who got pushed against the wall of the driver’s cabin.

Now, with growing distance, you recognized the mess of hair that belonged to Dallon. He had pinned the shorter male against the door, pressing his lower arm against Lars’ throat to keep him in check. You could not understand what Dallon was saying, too loud was the rushing of blood in your ears.

Walking backwards, you suddenly noticed a voice that brought comfort and a feeling of safety, but the words were hard to make out. Searching for the source of the voice, your eyes met a pair of dark brown ones. Ryan was standing in the door into the bus. His arm was stretched out, as if he was talking to a wounded animal. Recognizing him, and the offer that the arm represented, you quickly pushed away from the counter you had been pressing against, and ran over to where he was. Quickly Ryan wrapped his arms protectively around you as you collided with his chest, burying your face in the fabric of his shirt.

Carefully he guided you outside of the bus, allowing you to take deep breaths of the cool night air. He did not ask what had happened, he had seen enough. You were sobbing into his shirt, and he felt tears dripping from your cheeks, but he just held you as close as possible, rubbing soothing circles into your back, while cooing quietly. After a while your sobs died down, but you kept standing pressed against him, your first curled into the back of his shirt.

He smelled like safety. You could not say what exactly it was, but he was warm, so warm, and he even smelled warm. The steady movement of his chest with every breath and every heartbeat comforted you. He was alive, and you could feel it.

He had wrapped you into his arms, the same way a freezing person got wrapped into blankets. The soft little noises he made calmed you down, and the sound of his voice was the only thing you wanted to hear for the rest of your life.

Eventually your arms lost their strength and your fingers their grip on his shirt. Exhaustion overwhelmed you, and you stepped back. Your eyes were burning terribly as you looked up at Ryan, but he just had a soft smile on his face. Only now you noticed Dallon standing next to the two of you, quietly watching. When you moved, he made a few steps forwards.

“I talked to Lucas. Lars won’t be allowed into the bunk area anymore, so he’ll sleep on the sofa from now on. And the rest of us agreed to always make sure somebody is around, okay,” he explained slowly, with a calm voice.

But in his eyes you could see that Dallon thought Lars deserved a far bigger punishment than this.

You nodded, not sure how to thank them.

“Also he said that you are together, or were,” Dallon added, “and I just wanted to tell you that a relationship, or whatever you two used to have, is not consent by default. Consent never is the default. So if anyone ever tries to make you feel bad about saying no, remember this, okay? Promise?”

Once more tears started stinging in your eyes, and letting go of Ryan, you quickly hugged Dallon, who patted your head.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he finally decided.

You nodded and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. Ryan wrapped an arm around you, and led you back to the bus. Inside the other crew members were sitting, and Lucas had his hands pressed into his sides, staring down on Lars, who looked up once you entered.

At the sight of Lars sitting there you stiffened immediately, even with Ryan’s hand on your shoulder. A mixture of fear and anger washed over you, and you were torn between running away and punching him.

“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier and how I treated you during this tour so far,” Lars spoke. It was one of the few times he actually sounded sincere. “I should have respected your wishes, and promise to never approach you again without your permission. Please forgive me.”

The fear you felt was slowly being sucked away, but instead of the mercy he was hoping for, you only felt rage. Staring down at him, you blew air through your nose, and shook your head slightly.

“Yeah, you better,” you replied, and then, without giving him a second look, you walked through the tiny kitchen, and disappeared behind the door to the bunks.

Ryan followed closely after you, and closed the door behind him. You were leaning against the ladder of your bed and rubbed your eyes. Walking over, he stopped a few feet away from you, and waited for you to speak up.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you finally mumbled.

“Not at all, that’s how,” Ryan replied with a gentle smile on his lips, “any decent person would have done what Dal and I did. There is really nothing to thank us for.”

“Your shirt is all wet now, from me crying into it,” you noticed, and much to his relief, Ryan heard you giggle tiredly.

“It’s just water and salt, it’ll dry,” he answered.

For a while you stood in silence, before you told him you wanted to dress into your pyjama. Ryan left, giving you some privacy, and waited outside the door. Once you had finished dressing, you poked your head outside to call for him. A thought had started creeping into your mind, and you were too tired and exhausted to resist the urge to ask.

“Can you stay with me,” you asked shyly once you had crawled into your bunk, “I mean, would you mind sleeping up here tonight?”

Ryan’s eyes widened, and secretly he was overjoyed that you had asked. Nodding quickly, he climbed up the ladder, and squeezed himself into the bunk next to you. The curtain that was drawn as always allowed the two of you some privacy, and dimmed the bright orange light at the ceiling enough to create a cosy atmosphere.

As soon as Ryan had settled next to you, you felt the tension leaving your body. He had folded one of his arms under his head; the other hand was pushed under his chin. He looked so cosy and peaceful, lying next to you like that.

The peace and feeling of safety he radiated made you shiver comfortably, and you smiled at him sleepily. His heart made a little jump at the gesture, and following an instinct, he reached his hand out to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

Since you did not protest, and instead melted into the touch, he pulled up all of his courage, and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against him. Immediately you cuddled into him, your nose close to his neck, your lashes fluttering against his chin. You smelled lovely, and Ryan found himself hoping he could protect you from all the evil in the world.

Slowly your breathing calmed down, and after a while Ryan noticed that you had fallen asleep, taking deep, even breaths. Allowing himself to finally let down his guard as well, he too relaxed and closed his eyes, falling asleep with you safely wrapped in his arms.

Chapter Five

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #Ryan Seaman #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #his smile will keep you safe #fanfiction #fanfic #idkhow #i dont know how but they found me

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Prologue

Pairing: Ryan Seaman x Reader

Word Count: 570

It had been hours the dark haired man had already spend in front of the computer. It was not the first time he was searching for a photographer, who could document a band on tour, but the choice this time was difficult. The original photographer had broken his arm yesterday, and now, with tour starting the day after tomorrow, the band was in dire need of a replacement.

“Sorry, but I’m all booked out until end of next month.”

Lucas sighed and closed another tab in the browser of his laptop.

“It’s fine, thank you for your time,” he spoke and hung up.

The last tab that was still open, had been one of the first companies he had found. As far as he could tell, multiple photographers were employed there. The reason he had not yet called there, was the great difference in quality between the pictures.

The ones that were posted of concerts, were of magnificent quality. Perfect focus, attractive play with background blur, and the intense colours mixed into beautiful pieces of art.

Then there were pictures of what looked like benefit galas, which were not bad either, but by far not as lovingly done as the ones for the concerts.

But what really worried Lucas were the collections of pictures of weddings, birthday parties and other fancy events. Not only were the colours dull and blurry, the motives were chosen unimaginatively, and the way they were presented obviously showed that the photographer had a far too big ego.

Looking between the pictures, again, Lucas sighed once more. The photographs taken of the concerts had such a humble majesty that he finally decided it was worth the risk of ending up with the bad photographer. So he picked up the phone on his desk, and punched the number of the company onto the keyboard.

Three rings later the phone was answered by a man. Lucas started explaining that he was on the search for someone to accompany a band on tour.

“Specifically I‘m interested in who took the pictures of these rock concerts.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and quiet shuffling of paper and the clicking of keyboard keys, then the man on the other side answered.

“I mean… she has a few appointments-“

Again silence.

“But nothing I can’t give to anyone else.”

Lucas was about to thank the person on the other end of the line from the bottom of his heat, but the man continued talking.

“She is the best photographer I have ever seen, and I know that she can’t work for me forever. She’s destined to go far, further than a couple of half empty concerts in some smoky basement bars. If you’re happy with her work, maybe you could be so kind as to introduce her to… some people?”

Lucas had never come across such a strange request. Usually all the conditions were about money, money, money.

“Of course, it would be a pleasure,” Lucas found himself saying. “At the end if the tour I might be able to offer a permanent contract depending on what the label says.”

“That would be great, I’ll tell her first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you, I’ll send an email with all further details, including the temporary contract, to you.”

“Yes, please do that. And I can promise you: she’s just the right man, well, woman, for the job.”

Chapter One

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman multi chapter story #ryan seaman fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #idkhow #i dont know how but they found me #his smile will keep you safe #prologue

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Three

Warnings: harassment, mention of depression

Word Count: 5 834

You were torn out of your peaceful slumber when the bus skipped to a halt. The sudden absence of the motor vibration had woken you up, and sleepily you rubbed your eyes. Out of the small window by your bed, you saw that you had parked next to a house, and curiously you poked your head out of your bunk bed.

“Back under the living, sleepyhead,” Dallon joked, throwing a backpack over his shoulder.

“Where are we,” you asked, sitting up properly, and dangling your feet out of the bed.

“Phoenix. Now grab your night bag and let’s check into the hotel.”

And with these words he disappeared out of the bed department of the bus.

Quickly you threw your pyjama and your hygiene products into a small bag, which you had stuffed into your suitcase the day before, and followed the bassist.

Outside of the bus the air was blazing hot. The bus had parked at the side of a huge building, in what looked like a backstreet, or some sort of backyard. Just in time you spotted Lisa walking through a door, and hurried after the young woman.

Stepping through the inconspicuous door, you were once again hit with air conditioning. Even though outside the colour of the light suggested that the sun was close to setting, in here the corridors were ignited with bright lights.

Following the sound of the footsteps in front of you, you finally reached a small lobby. A couple of couches were standing by the windows, and a middle aged man was talking to Lucas, who seemed to be checking everyone in.

Slowly you walked over to Lisa, who was standing by a window, and looked out into the street. Cars were driving by, carrying dust into the air. The few people on the street were dressed in short trousers matched with t-shirts, and most women were wearing dresses.

Turning back around to the room, you noticed that Luis and Charlie were sitting huddled together on one of the sofas, holding a map. Probably they were deciding what to do until the show tomorrow. Dallon and Ryan were leaning against a door frame, Dallon still carrying his backpack, while Ryan had placed his between his feet. Lars was standing in a corner, mobile in hand, and punched the keys in an almost aggressive manner, while Bill had plucked in his headphones, and seemed not to notice anyone else.

Just when you were about to ask Lisa where Jay was, you saw him pacing up and down outside, pressing his own mobile to his ear. He looked distressed, occasionally reaching into his hair and tucking on the dread locks.

“Do you think he’s calling his girlfriend,” Lisa asked.

Her voice was quiet, and while she mostly sounded sad, you also heard the underlying jealousy.

“Does he have one,” you retorted.

Honestly, you did not feel in the mood to get pulled into other people’s problems with their love life, but then again, maybe you would need someone to talk about Lars earlier or later, and then you could ask her this favour.

“Don’t know,” she replied, keeping her eyes fixed on the spot where Jay had disappeared out of her view.

“It’s probably just his mum, don’t worry,” you tried to comfort her, “or his grandma. You know how grandmas can be.”

Lisa nodded and turned around to face the room again, and you copied her movements.

“So, did you take a nap,” she asked, trying to do small talk.

“Yeah. Everything is pretty exciting,” you explained, preferring not to mention that another reason for your quick tiring was the never entirely healed depression, which you still dragged around with you.

“I know, right? The first days I’m always super tired,” Lisa agreed, and you were glad that she did not think it was weird, “But soon the routine will kick in, and you’ll get used to all this.”

“I hope so,” you nodded, and just in that moment Lucas turned around to the group.

“So, we have three rooms,” he announced, “Two four beds rooms, and one two beds room. I’d suggest you girls take the two beds room, and the rest of us share the other two rooms.”

Since nobody disagreed, Lucas handed Lisa a pair of keys, and together the two of you made your way up into the third floor, where your room was located. Secretly you were glad that you got to share a room with her. Apart from the fact that you had talked most to her out of all the members, you seriously did not want to have to share a room with Lars.

The room which Lisa unlocked for the two of you was small, but cosy. To the left there was a door that led to a tiny bathroom, which just about fitted a shower, a sink and a toilet. The rest of the room contained two beds, one on either side, a small wardrobe opposite the bathroom door, and two bedside tables.

“Which bed do you want,” you asked.

“I don’t care, whatever you prefer,” Lisa answered, peeking into the bathroom.

“Then I’ll take the bed on the right,” you decided and threw your backpack on the matrass, sitting down next to it.

A strange feeling washed over you. This morning you had still taken a shower at home, in your own, familiar flat, and now you were hundreds of miles away, in a city you had never seen before, sharing a hotel room with a woman you had just met yesterday. With a sense of wonder you realized that a hundred years ago such a trip would have taken days, if not weeks, and now it was possible to travel this far in under a day.

Lisa went to take a shower, and you stretched out on your bed, pulling out your mobile. Yesterday you had only left your parents a short message, telling them what kind of offer you had gotten, so of course there were several missed calls from them.

You felt your heart grow in your chest as you saw these calls. For some reason you missed them all of a sudden. Admittedly, you were in your twenties, but this was new and strange, and your parents had always provided such safety to you, that it almost felt dangerous not to have them join you on this trip. Pushing aside this thought, you pressed their number, and called them back, to explain what had happened since yesterday morning.

You had just finished your call, when Lisa emerged back out of the bathroom, and with her a cloud of rose scented, moist air. Her face was red from scrubbing it, and her blonde curls were hanging down on her shoulders in wet strands. She had dressed into a white dress with flowers, and all of a sudden you felt rather clumsy in your own body, being dressed in simple shorts and a blue shirt.

A knock on the door made you peek up, and since Lisa was busy reapplying her make-up, you went to see who it was. Outside Charlie was standing, his hands shoved into his pockets up to his wrists, and he looked nervous until you opened up, as if he had been uncertain if he had knocked on the right door.

“We wanted to go out for dinner, would you guys like to join,” the bassist asked.

For a split second you would have answered with something along the lines of “Only if Lars isn’t coming” but you bit your tongue.

“Sure, why not,” you grinned, looking forward to getting to know everyone better.

“Lucas and Bill, and probably light guy will be staying here, but Lucas said, you should bring your camera, to, you know, document the tour and all,” Charlie said, “What about Lisa, she coming too?”

You turned around to take a look into the bathroom where she was almost done applying her make up. When she saw you looking at her, she nodded eagerly.

“Yup, we’re both in,” you replied, making Charlie smile.

“Great, we’re meeting downstairs in ten!”

You watched the musician turn around before you closed the door behind him. Somehow you almost feared Lisa would start asking you questions about her outfit, but she did not, so you used the time to freshen yourself up a little.

Ten minutes later, after you had fetched your camera from the bus, you arrived back in the lobby. Dallon was sitting on a sofa, his long legs stretched out into the room. Ryan was talking to Luis, and if you had to guess from their gestures, they were talking about drumming. Jay and Charlie were also talking, but when they noticed you entering, Jay stood up.

“I know a great place pretty close by,” he said, “they have all sorts of different foods, like burgers, pizza, pasta, salads, and they have cocktails. Just the perfect thing for this weather. What do you guys think?”

Since nobody had any better ideas, you followed the tall man out of the hotel onto the street. Lisa immediately hurried to catch up with him, so you were left on your own. On one hand you were nervous, as always when you got to know new people, but you were also excited to get to know all of them better.

Dallon and Ryan seemed to be having a more private conversation since you heard Dallon mention his kids, so you turned to see what Charlie and Luis were talking about. Sure enough they had just turned to you, and soon you were walking between the two men, hearing stories about their band, and what tours they had done so far.

From what you learned, it seemed that Luis was the kind of guy who wanted to be liked. He needed attention, and liked being the centre of it, and seemed generally like a joyful person, always ready to joke around. He showed you a tattoo on his upper arm where he had gotten his grandparents’ names inked into his skin, and explained the meaning of a few other ones. Luis was easy to talk to. He was quick in understanding, and never seemed to mind the little awkward stutters you sometimes did. Judging by what Charlie told about him, Luis was liked by everyone, and even though he often got on people’s nerves, everyone loved and defended him.

Charlie was a little more difficult to read, especially in the beginning. He was quiet, and preferred listening over talking, which made him the perfect match to Luis. Most of the time he nodded or just kept his eyes on the ground, but after a while he contributed more to the conversation. He told you how he had started playing the bass, and that he had studied IT in college. For some reason you could not help yourself to chuckle as he revealed this information, since if someone would have asked you to guess his favourite school subject, you would have answered exactly that. Charlie also told you about the different times Luis had been arrested, because cops had thought he would be dealing drugs.

“Never man, I’m straight edge,” Luis had laughed at your shocked expression, “I’ll never in my life touch drugs, not even to sell them!”

His exclamation made the three of you laugh, and happily you noticed how easy it was to have a good time with them. They were nice, smart, and understanding, even when it sometimes took you a while to find the right words.

It felt like barely five minutes had passed when Jay stopped in front of a restaurant. It was not big from the outside, but you heard many people talking. You waited until Ryan and Dallon had caught up with everyone, then you entered.

The smell that met your noses was delicious. Terracotta coloured walls and small cacti in plat pots made the place feel comfortable. Banjo music was playing out of well-hidden speakers, and even though most tables were already occupied, you quickly found a place by one of the windows.

You scooted in next to Charlie, and were followed by Ryan who shot you a friendly smile. Remembering how only a few hours ago he had gotten you out of the weird situation with Lars, you asked yourself if he was still wondering what had been going on.

It did not take long until the conversation picked up. You had imaged there to be at least two different groups, but much to your contentedness, the whole table was engaging in the same discussion. It started out with Dallon asking how many bands the others had already been in. Ryan had the highest count with over thirteen.

And then everyone started talking about the weirdest things that had happened to them on tour. Charlie and Jay repeated the stories of Luis being taken in by the police, Lisa told a story about how one of the bands she had toured with had forgotten their entire equipment once, and Dallon talked about the time he had spent touring with the band Panic! at the Disco, reminding you of how much you had listened to the first two albums as a teenager.

Even though you had no stories of your own to contribute, it was amazing to listen to everyone else’s. They laughed at your disbelieving stares, and your open mouth, and whenever anyone said something especially funny, the whole table erupted into loud laughter.

By the time the food, which all of you had ordered, arrived, you had almost forgotten that you knew none of these people longer than 48 hours. You felt comfortable in their company. Charlie had leant against the window, looking along the table, while his knee was pressing into yours. You were sitting very close to both him and Ryan, because Dallon had decided to squeeze into this booth as well. Now Ryan’s arm was pressing against yours, and your hips were touching, but neither of your minded.

On the other bench Lisa was sitting at the edge, Jay in the middle, and Luis had taken a position that resembled Charlie’s.

Remembering Lucas’ request to take some pictures, you took out the camera, and quickly shot a few photos before everyone started to dig into their delicious smelling food.

Several hours later, the bellies filled with lots of food and fruity cocktails for dessert, all seven of you were on your way back to the hotel. The laughter and the cheering about each other’s stories had calmed down, and instead you were quietly walking along. During dinner you had learned that Dallon had two children, the older one, a girl, had just turned eleven. He had proudly talked about them, and told many stories. Ryan too had shared stories, but his mostly centred around his cat and his dog.

Jay had stayed a little more silent about private matters, but when the question, who in the group was in a relationship, had been asked, he had mentioned that he was single. Of course this statement had caused Lisa and you to exchange meaningful looks.

When you reached the hotel, everyone bid their good nights, and shortly after you had dressed into your pyjama, back at your room, and you had fallen asleep on the soft pillow on your bed.

~*~

The following day was not especially exciting. Lucas insisted on everyone coming to the venue, where he and Bill started setting up the stage for the first show of the tour. Lars seemed to have decided to take care of the lights, as he was supposed to, and Lisa had started looking through and categorizing the merchandise that had been delivered directly to the venue.

Since you had nothing to do, and all the band members had settled down in the bus to relax, you grabbed your laptop and your camera, and settled down at one of the tables in the bar area of the club, and started looking through the pictures of the prior evening.

At first you copied all of the pictures onto your computer, then you deleted them off your memory card, so there was enough space on there for the evening. Saving the pictures in a folder with the date, you created a second folder which you named “edit”. Once more you copied all the pictures in there as well, then you started selecting which ones had turned out nicely.

Even as a professional photographer not every picture turned out good. Some were blurry, and since you were taking pictures of people, it was not always easy to catch one in which they did not accidently blink or have their mouth wide open. In the end you were left with about a dozen pictures, which you started editing.

Editing was, next to choosing the subject of your photograph and preparing the settings, your favourite part. It was amazing to see how toggling contrast, colours, brightness and other variables changed the entire feeling, which the picture conveyed. Concentrated on your work you barely noticed how time had passed, until suddenly Bill tapped your shoulder.

“Wow, these look amazing,” he marvelled, looking over your shoulder.

You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips at his compliment. Maybe you had not been on tours before, but you definitely knew how to take pictures.

“Thanks,” you grinned, looking up from your screen for the first time in hours.

“Hey, it’s almost time for doors, so you’ll need this.”

He handed you a backstage pass on which a long lace had been tied so you could put it comfortably around your neck. You have had these before, but usually ones made out of thin plastic or carton. This one here was as thick as a credit card, yet bendable; something that was supposed to last for two months.

“Don’t lose it, or you won’t be allowed on the bus,” Bill joked, making you laugh lightly, “Now let’s go, or do you want to be run over by all the fans?”

Both of you laughed again, and he helped you pick up your laptop, and carry it backstage into the small room where the bands were preparing for the show.

The “Three Beats” were already in their stage clothes, all of them wearing black trousers and shirts, a white jacket on top. Ryan and Dallon had not yet changed, but considering they still had about two hours until it was their turn, they still had plenty of time. You realized you had missed sound check, and when you mentioned it to Charlie, he chuckled.

“There are still plenty of sound checks, don’t worry,” he told you with a comforting smile.

Outside you heard the first fans being allowed into the venue. The chatter grew louder and louder, and at some point somebody turned on music for the growing audience. Actually knowing the bands that were about to play, you started noticing the change in atmosphere.

The opening band grew more and more fidgety with every passing minute, and even you started feeling nervous and excited. You realized that you had no clue what kind of music these bands were making, but now it was a little too late to grab some Spotify and look them up. Instead you did what you always did when you grew impatient; you started capturing the moment. Sitting crossed legged on a table you pointed your camera through the room, taking pictures.

There were Jay and Charlie who had started doing their vocal warm up. Luis was jumping around, kicking the air and punching invisible enemies to get his spirit up for the show. Ryan and Dallon on the other hand were calm, or at least looked like they were. They had settled down on one of the two sofas in the room, both engulfed in their own world. Sometimes Dallon’s fingers twitched a little, as if he was searching for chords on his bass, and Ryan’s feet were tapping the floor in quick rhythms as if he was practicing the songs they were about to play.

Suddenly the noise from outside increased, and Lucas entered the room.

“You guys ready,” he asked, turned to the opening band.

The three young men stepped next to each other and nodded; determination in their faces.

“Great! (y/n), are you going to take pictures of them going on stage, please,” he asked, and you too nodded, quickly slipping out of the room backstage, and into the noise of the chatting fans, who were eagerly waiting for the first band to come on.

You passed the security guard, who only took a short look at your backstage pass, then you started making your way through the crowd, and to the other side of the room to be able to take some pictures of the men when they were stepping on stage.

Some people, mostly young girls, were sitting on the floor; others were standing around aimlessly, or were singing random songs, mostly in a terribly off key melody. The lights dimmed and the music turned off, making everyone around you cheer.

Quickly you passed the last few meters to the spot you had chosen for now. The crowd was still cheering, and just in time you turned on your camera, and adjusted the settings, when Luis stepped on stage. He kept his head down and directly walked to the drum set that had been set up in the back centre of the stage. Even though his entrance was not very spectacular, you shot several pictures of him, before focusing on Charlie, who walked to the right side of the stage, where he picked up his bass that had been standing in front of a second drum set, probably Ryan’s. Charlie, too, kept his eyes locked to the floor, as if he was focusing really hard on not falling, but when he picked up his bass, he spotted you, and shot a quick smile your way, which you immediately captured.

It took a few more seconds for Jay to step on stage. What had Lisa told you on the bus yesterday? All the girls loved him? The reaction of the crowd definitely supported that statement, and you had to admit yourself, that out here on stage, wearing this confident, sassy smile, his black hair and dark skin contrasting so beautifully with the snow white of his jacket, the band that held his dread locks together being the only colourful spot on stage, he definitely looked attracting.

You shot a few pictures of him walking over to his guitar and his microphone, and waited until they started playing their first song, snapping a few more photos, then you started manoeuvring through the crowd. Whenever you found a good angle at the stage, you turned to shoot pictures. Not all of them would turn out great, you knew that. The dim light, the quickly changing spotlights, the fast movements of the musicians, all these things added up, and in the end only a handful of pictures would be good enough to edit. Once again you got lost in your work. Walking around, adjusting settings, shooting several pics, starting to walk around again.

You were so engulfed in your work that you did not even notice Jay announcing their last song, instead you were surprised when all of a sudden they walked off stage.

The lights stayed down, but the music got turned on again, so you quickly raced to the room backstage to take a couple of post-show photographs of the opening band. They were sweaty and happy, laughing ecstatically, and hugging each other. Ryan and Dallon watched grinning. They had both changed into their flower shirts, nervously bouncing on their heels.

After a few quick shots, you ran back out into the crowd, trying to find a good spot from where you could capture Ryan and Dallon walking on the stage. You noticed how you had started sweating. The air had been hot the entire day long, and the crowd radiated heat as well. That, plus your constant running around, had caused your skin to turn all sweaty, and your shirt started getting moist a little.

Concentrating back on finding the best spot, you found a whole in the crowd, right at the lighting console. Showing the security guard your pass, you climbed over the barricade and balanced yourself at the edge of the rostrum on which the console was standing.

“Are you paying me a visit?”

You would have almost fallen off the rostrum at the unexpected sound so close to your ear, and quickly you turned around, being faced with Lars. His lips were mere inches away from yours and hastily you leant away from him. How could you have forgotten that he was doing the lights?

“Just for the view,” you replied, looking back to the stage.

“Oh really? Because I could have bet it was because of me,” he shrugged.

“Trust me, it’s not because of you,” you hissed, still not looking at him.

For a few seconds there was silence and you almost allowed yourself to hope he would leave you alone, when he spoke up again.

“I always love you the most when you’re as sweaty and worked up as right now.”

The use of present tense sent an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. Turning around you stared him in the eyes. Without noticing, you had taken an aggressive stance. Your shoulders were straight, but slightly tilted to the front, your face expressionless, except for your eyes. These were shooting daggers at him.

“Leave me alone,” you told him, your voice low, but clear.

Luckily in just that moment Ryan stepped onto the stage, distracting Lars from you since he had to change the lights, and you took a couple of pictures of the drummer on his way to his drum set. As soon as he sat down, he started drumming an even rhythm, while Dallon followed him on stage.

You snapped multiple pictures until the singer had grabbed his bass, and started strumming the first chords, then you climbed back off the rostrum, and started your journey through the crowd once more. After a while, feeling like you had taken several good pictures of both band members, you started calming down. Finding a quiet corner with good view to the stage in the back, you started listening more to the music that got played.

The fans were singing along wholeheartedly, and even though it was hard to understand the lyrics, you found yourself nodding along to the beat, while you played around with your camera. Being a photographer had the advantage that you could zoom in on someone at any given time. While you noticed in the course of the evening, that Dallon had put on a strong stage persona, giving directions to the audience when to cheer and what to sing, Ryan seemed to be more like you knew him off stage. He sat at his drums, a huge smile plastered on his face, while he head banged to the music they were playing.

The longer you watched the drummer the more he seemed to enchant you. His hair fell into his eyes with every move forwards, and he had to shake it away with every time he sat back up. His eyes were squinted together because he was smiling so hard, and deep dimples were etched into his cheeks. It was obvious how much fun he was having, how much the audience singing back at them meant to him. Even here in the back it felt like waves of pure joy and happiness were radiating from the man drumming away his soul up there on the stage.

You found yourself thinking how you could not wait to see him play the next time, and a strange feeling of safety sparked in your chest. It felt as if all of a sudden you knew him so much better, as if the mere act of watching him play music he enjoyed was an intimate, personal confession between the two of you.

Out of nowhere the picture of him holding your hand while you were feeling down popped into your mind, and for a moment you were too confused by the image to notice Dallon, who had commanded the crowd to part. Quickly shaking of this strange, yet comforting thought of Ryan, you picked your camera back up and shot pictures of Dallon how he walked through the crowd, almost all of the people smaller than him, with expressions of admiration on their faces.

You marvelled at the way he was able to control the crowd. After having asked them politely, yet never taking off the mask of his stage persona, to not touch him, all of them kept their hands to themselves.

Only when Dallon climbed back onto the stage, you realized that for a good two minutes you had not paid any attention to Ryan, sparking a feeling of guilt in your chest. Why would you feel bad for not paying attention to Ryan for two minutes? You had spent at least ten minutes just watching him, without a thought of Dallon, why not the other way around as well?

Maybe it was because most of the people kept their eyes fixed on the bassist, but you felt that Ryan deserved an equal amount of attention. So if the others did not give it to him, you had to, and watching Dallon for too long felt like an act of betrayal.

It took you several seconds to understand the strangeness of these thoughts. Not only were you the photographer, it was your job to hang out with the band, but also was it ridiculous to think you staring at Ryan would make the lack of attention from the fans any better. Not to mention that he did not even know you had been watching him. Hell, you did not even know him, he did not know you! He had helped you up on the street once, like any other decent human would, and you had spent two days knowing each other’s names. Why were his emotions, why was he, so important all of a sudden?

You spent the rest of the show with these questions in the back of your head, trying to answer them for yourself, but you failed. Until the concert was over you only took a few more pictures, and when Dallon and Ryan had said their good byes on stage, and the fans started leaving the hall, you took a deep breath. These unexpected emotions, which Ryan’s performance had sparked, the rawness and realness of his joy, the passion while playing music, had confused you and you knew it would take a while for you to clear your head.

Secretly you had hoped for some calm after this roller-coaster of emotions, but unluckily Lucas did not allow this to you. Instead he started commanding Lars and Bill around, to clean up the stage. If you remembered correctly you had a long drive of almost eighteen hours ahead, so it was understandable that he wanted everyone to hurry up so you could get going as quickly as possible.

Since you could not be of much help you checked if you had packed everything, computer, cables, camera, charger and memory cards, then you hurried out to the bus, where the “Three Beats” were helping to carry instruments and technology into the trunk. Making sure you were out of the way, you leant against the side of the bus and started clicking through the pictures. You had taken several hundred snaps during the evening, many of them blurred, but as far as you could tell from the tiny screen, there were also a couple of very good ones, which you already looked forward to editing.

Slowly the hectic back-and-forth around you calmed down. Most of the things that needed to go into the trunk had been packed, and only Dallon and Ryan were missing now. Some of the fans had crowded around the exit of the venue in the hopes of meeting Ryan and Dallon on their way to the bus.

Feeling like this was something private to the fans which you had no right of documenting, you decided to climb on board of the bus instead. The opening band was sitting spread out over the sofa facing the door you walked through, Lisa and Lars were sitting on the other sofa, and through the open door to the driver’s cabin, you saw Bill type around on the navigation system, doubtlessly preparing to take off as soon as everyone was on board.

Walking past the other members of the crew, you made your way to the bunk beds, where you climbed into your bunk, and stored away your camera and the laptop that had still been lying on the blanket, at the end of your matrass. Usually you loved starting the editing the same evening, but you were tired now, and still confused about Ryan, so tomorrow would probably be early enough.

For a moment you wondered if you could take a shower, but you remembered what Jay had told you: if you don’t want to get sick, don’t shower on the bus. And in the venue there had not been enough time for you to take a shower, since the musicians had been a lot sweatier. So some wipes and deodorant would have to do for now.

You grabbed the bag with the things you needed and walked back into the direction where Dallon had just climbed on board, following Ryan. Both looked happy but tired, and the smiles on their faces faded slightly, as soon as Lucas, the last one to climb into the bus, closed the door.

“Let’s go,” he told Bill, poking his head into the cabin, and immediately the motor awoke to life.

Quickly you grabbed the handle to one of the bathrooms, to stay stable while the bus made a turn, and only slowly you grew used to the foreign feeling of standing in a moving vehicle. Since nobody made any attempts to strike up a conversation, you decided to continue the plan of refreshing yourself a little.

By the time you were done, the living area was almost empty. Only Luis and Charlie sat there, quietly talking. You wished them a good night, then you walked back to your bed, and climbed up. All the curtains were closed, except for the ones that belonged to Bill’s bed. Drawing your own curtains closed, your stored away your things properly, making sure they would not start sliding around if the bus moved abruptly. Then you cuddled into the blanket of your bunk bed, and closed your eyes. A wave of exhaustion broke in over you, and before you even had time to realize that this was your first night on a tour bus, you had fallen asleep.

Chapter Four

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[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

It's Saturday, and that means, Chapter Two of His Smile Will Keep You Safe is coming in about 8 hours!

I hope all of you have a great weekend!

Keep running!

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