Flipping Coins

There was a series of turbulent thumps racketing throughout my eerily silent apartment. Clothes, furniture, books, CDs, and other various things were messily residing upon the cluttered floor of my apartment--a direct result of my reaction to what had happened hours before. Among the chaotic piles of sweaters and lamps, there I laid on top of a puddle of old sneakers, shaded in a particularly dim corner, staring dazedly at the uninteresting, bland ceiling before me.

I hadn’t even noticed the raucous callings for my presence at my front door, but kept on gazing without so much as a blink at the trite white ceiling shielding me from the outside, where everything was a complicated mess filled with human beings that were only out to hurt me in some way or another, in the end. I didn’t need the world, and the world certainly didn’t need me…so why was I here?

I wasn’t suicidal, just thinking too far into things. I was allowing my brain to stretch past the darkened, unguarded boundary no one dared to cross due to fear. Fear was not an obstacle to me anymore, but a welcomed friend. After passing that horizon of the illogical, everything seemed a lot less complicated. I didn’t have to feel or think or make sense of anything on this side.

Abruptly had it come to me that, in the end, The Dark Side was really the only side.

While I continued to explore the unlimited, exciting depths of The Dark Side, something incredibly smooth swept my face. But my eyes were locked with that boring ceiling, and even if I wanted to, switching the focal points of my eyes to observe the source of caressing was next to impossible.

Then, like a light switch being flickered on, my hearing snapped back into focus in an instant.

“---you hear me? Emie?”

My eyesight was suddenly back in my control, and I switched my view to rest on the dark figure kneeled beside me. I scanned his worried expression with curiosity. In an awed voice that I couldn’t even recognize as my own, I asked, “Why is your face like that?”

The concernment drained from Ryan’s face to be replaced with undeniable confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked, puzzled.

I waited a moment before I responded, all the while gazing without focus on Ryan. “When did you get here?” I asked, not bothering to explain my interest in the expression that had strayed away so fast.

Ryan thought for a moment. “Err--five minutes ago? You didn’t answer the door, and you weren’t at your office, so I just chose to break in. Hope you don’t mind.” He shot me a sheepish smile at the end of his words.

My facial muscles, however, were still locked in place. The desire to smile at something I didn’t feel deserved such a favor kept my face blank and dull.

When I didn’t make a move to respond or pick up at another topic, Ryan gave a glance around. “So, what happened here?” he asked in a casual tone.

“I threw everything around because I was upset and couldn’t deal my feelings without physically ridding myself of energy.”

I didn’t feel the need to lie or beat around the bush. What was the point?

Ryan gazed back at me, eyebrows furrowed. “Just like that?” he asked, amused.

“Yeah.”

Ryan looked at me for another moment, a long one, before he finally got to his feet and said, “Come on. You need to get up. Let me help you.” He then offered me one of his vast hands, not even needing to bend down to reach me since he had such long, lanky arms.

I obliged and allowed his freakishly twig-like, lengthy arm to assist me to getting back on my feet, both literally and not literally.

“So, um,” Ryan began, rubbing his calloused, wafer hands together as he continued to peer around my disheveled abode, “the reason I came by today was because Brendon suggested I pop in to see how you were ‘holding up’---“

“Whoa, wait. He suggested for you to stop by to see me?” I interrupted, not able to sputter out Brendon’s actual name due to another malfunctioning of jaw muscles.

Ryan shot me an unsure expression. “Err--yeah, I’m not sure if I was supposed to tell you that, so it would be awesome if you could keep that on the D.L. And anyways, it was more of an insist than a suggestion, but I wouldn’t of exactly complained if he had asked nicely in the first place. He’s always so demanding at times---“

“So he told you to come here to check up on me? To see how I was doing? He sent you as some kind of--as some kind of spy to see if I was reacting like he wanted me to?” I inquired, stepping closer to Ryan while pointing my index finger accursedly in his perplexed face.

“Well,” squeaked poor Ryan, seeing my anger at full throttle, “I wouldn’t go that far. Spy is a little over-the-edge, isn’t---“

“Oh no! No, it’s not, Ryan. On the contrary, I think I’m being a bit soft on the name-calling,” I stated indignantly, my index finger now a millimeter away from brushing his nose. “So have you gotten your report? Have you gathered all of the information you’ve needed to retreat back to Lieutenant Urie and tell him the good news that Emie is truly falling apart? Are you satisfied, because I think it’s high time you leave now.” I strode to my bedroom door, pulling the doorknob so that the whole door smoothly slammed to my side, glaring at Ryan with fire in my eyes.

Ryan, who had looked confused and surprised and dumbstruck and sad and angered all at once, now stepped forward with a sudden bloom captivating his pale cheeks. “Now hold it just a minute!” he said loudly. “I am not here to make some report for Brendon, and I’m sure as hell not here as some spy to watch you fall apart. I don’t know what the hell is up with all of you people, but I think I deserve a fucking explanation for getting my ears screamed into with unnecessary yelling all goddamn day! So spill.” With that, Ryan twisted his oddly slender body to display a pose worthy of a drama queen, folding his lanky limbs together and pressing them tightly to his bony chest.

If I hadn’t been under such grim and upsetting conditions, I would have undoubtedly made fun of Ryan for his feminine attributes, but this was not the time to laugh or taunt. This was as serious as it gets, and even the thought of smiling seemed impossible at that moment.

So, taking a step forward, I asked in confusion, “Wait--so he didn’t tell you what happened?”

Ryan stiffly shook his head, glaring at me from the end of his pointed nose.

Sighing, I knew it was now my duty to spill the news, no matter how upset I might be when it came from my mouth. So, after clearing my throat, I told Ryan exactly what had happened last night, managing to dodge upbringing Brendon’s name the entire tale. Ryan steadily loosened his rigid posture, and by the end, he was holding my shoulder in comfort.

“Emie, I’m so sorry,” Ryan sympathized, something I was afraid he would do. “Brendon is a total ass for just dumping you like that.”

I stealthily shook his huge hand off of my shoulder as I responded quietly, “Yeah, well, I guess I’m just always going to be the last resort and the first eliminated. I honestly should have come to terms with that by now.”

Ryan shook his head several times, denying my words as he placed both of his hands back on either of my shoulders. “Why would you even think that? Can you imagine how our lives would be without you? You are like the string that holds this band of friends together! Without you I just--I just can’t even think about how things would be. That’s how farfetched it is.”

Not wanting to reject his words just to have more unwanted compliments of my existence thrown my way, I merely shrugged and looked down at my bare feet. “I guess.…”

Ryan scoffed before he dropped the subject, granting me mercy. I knew he was still overlooking my defiled dwelling, surely itching to just put on a pair of rubber gloves and take action, but he held his position and resisted the deep temptation he was unquestionably fighting.

At last, Ryan broke the silence by gulping audibly and saying quite lowly, “You know, even though I’m still upset with him for taking this route, I can see Brendon’s point. It makes sense--what he’s doing to you, I mean.”

I lifted my gaze to eye Ryan with a hint of hurt tinted in my eyes. “You’re agreeing with him?” I questioned softly.

Ryan met my eyes regrettably, wincing slightly. His voice rose a bit with nervousness and shame. “Well--not really agreeing, but…well, it’s really hard to explain---“ he read the expression I was sending him, and finally sighed and admitted, “Okay. Yes. I am agreeing with what he did, but not entirely.”

My self-confidence had never been so low. It instantly became clear to me: no one wanted me here. I was annoying and just a waste of space. Everyone had lives to fulfill, families to create, a name to make--and I was just another obstacle, another friend to call, another chore to take care off and watch out for. Had I not been here--in Jon and Spencer and Ryan and Brendon’s lives--a huge weight would be lifted off their shoulders. Things would be simpler, less dramatic, and easier to deal with.

Like Brendon had once admitted, I was nothing more than a waste of human.

Ryan took a step forward, instantly realizing his mistake as he read the drastic change of expressions my face had underwent in less than two seconds. He said, “Dammit! You’re getting me wrong, Emie! Just listen to me, okay? I was simply admitting that I semi-agree with Brendon, and for completely different reasons than you’re assuming---“

“Don’t lie, Ryan,” I said softly, unable to tear up like I doubtlessly would have been had I been able to string up enough emotion. I had been through too much lately to show much feeling this time around.

Ryan sent me a pleading look. “Please, just listen to me. I’m not lying! You have to understand--I’m agreeing with Brendon because of what he had said about Evelia! I can relate because I feel the exact same way about Fran! Don’t you see? It’s not that Brendon and I don’t want you around, it’s just that---“

“---that there’s simply no more room for me in your lives,” I finished, curtly pressing my lips together to help mild the sting of hurt seeming throughout my body and soul.

“There’s always room for you, Emie,” Ryan stated firmly, his voice lowering drastically. “There is always room for you. Stop trying to assume the worst and just listen to me: I am in love. Brendon is in love. Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made, and you just happen to---“

“Wait,” I halted him, my voice almost breathless, “what did you just say?”

Ryan’s eyebrows thickened. “What? That sacrifices have to be---“

“No, before that. What did you say before that?” I asked, unable to meet his honey-brown eyes anymore.

In my peripheral vision, I could see Ryan’s expression flicker to one of realization. He took to silence, not answering my question.

I met his eyes after a short moment and begged again, “Ryan, what did you say?”

Ryan peered down at the floor. He finally mustered up the voice to repeat his words:

“Brendon’s in love. He’s in love with Evelia.”