Rosewood

Ryan stood outside of the airport, a heavy suitcase in each of his hands. He wasn’t doing anything—just standing there taking in the city laid out in front of him. He couldn’t believe he was actually here. He really had no reason to be there except to see if anyone cared about him… Well, to see if the one person Ryan cared about the most cared about Ryan just as much.

He had left a note. Ryan had left it on the fridge. He was sure it would be noticed—there was never anything on the fridge; not even magnets. Ryan had had to tape it to the fridge. But at least he knew it would be found and not overlooked.

Brendon,

Ryan moved now, stepping to the edge of the sidewalk and setting down one of his suitcases to hail a cab.

I’ve left for New York City. I don’t know when or if I’ll be back.

Once inside the cab, Ryan quickly told the driver where to go.

I’ll be staying at the Rosewood Motel, room 204, for now.

Ryan was madly in love with Brendon... Well, is. He is madly in love with Brendon. Ryan didn’t really want to leave but Brendon really didn’t seem to care anymore.

Brendon was never home anymore. He rarely would tell Ryan that he loved him—and Ryan had started to feel desperation and loneliness starting to cloud his mind till all he could see was someone who didn’t love him at all. It seemed more recently that every time Brendon told Ryan that he loved him, Ryan didn’t believe him. Which was why Ryan had left and even told Brendon where he would be. He hoped that Brendon would come get him and bring Ryan home.

Leaving was just something I had to do.
When Ryan got into his hotel room, he placed his two suitcases in a corner before sitting on the bed. At this point, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, other than wait. He was only going to stay here for three days. That’s all he had enough money for. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if three days passed without Brendon showing up. He’d figure it out if it came to that.

Ryan pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. No new messages. He frowned and took note that his battery was low. Ryan cursed when after digging through his suitcases he realized he had forgotten to pack his charger.

A little later, he decided to sleep to get his mind off of things.

I hope you’ll understand.

---

It was the day that Ryan was supposed to check out of the Rosewood Motel, and Brendon hadn’t shown up yet. Ryan’s phone had died yesterday morning so he didn’t even know if Brendon had tried to get a hold of him. All Ryan could think about was the fact that Brendon wasn’t there. He wasn’t fucking there. Ryan had never felt so hurt—so lonely. He felt like his head was going to cave in, like his lungs were going to collapse, like his heart was going to stop beating at any second.

But he was still holding on to his last thread of hope. He still had an hour. Ryan didn’t have to leave the motel for another hour.

When there was about a half an hour left, Ryan nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock on the door.

This was it. Brendon was here. He did love Ryan. He cared.

Feeling nerves and excitement at the same time, Ryan made his way to the door and grabbed a hold of the door knob, hesitating a moment before pulling it open.

But what was in front of him made his heart drop into his stomach. His mind, which had felt clear in that brief moment, clouded over again in that desperation and loneliness. But this time the clouds felt thicker than usual and Ryan’s head felt heavy.

“Oh!” said the housekeeper, smiling. “You’re still here. I can come back in a bit.”

“Y-Yeah,” Ryan stutter quietly. “I’m going to be gone in about a half an hour.”

The housekeep moved on down the hallway and Ryan closed the door.

Brendon wasn’t coming. Brendon didn’t love him.

Love, Ryan

---

Brendon was the one who found Ryan. It hadn’t been hard to get a key to Ryan’s room and when Brendon entered room 204, he knew something was off. He didn’t find Ryan right away. There were no lights on in the room—He remembered having to turn them on, only to find that the room was empty. It was late and Brendon had assumed that Ryan had been sleeping, but the bed was empty.

Then Brendon noticed that the door to the bathroom was closed and he somehow knew that that was where he was going to find Ryan. He opened the door slowly—the light was on, and Brendon wasn’t sure what he was going to find. What he did find, when the door was completely open, made Brendon’s stomach turn and he threw up on the floor in front of him.

Brendon couldn’t picture the whole scene all together, but only certain details. Ryan’s clothes neatly folded and sitting on the counter top. The blood-red water in the bathtub. Ryan’s head lowered, his chin resting against his bare chest. He couldn’t see Ryan’s face. He couldn’t see Ryan’s face and that’s all Brendon really wanted to see. He wanted to run to the tub and lift his head so that he could see Ryan’s beautiful face.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he were to go over there and actually touch Ryan, to feel him, he would know this horror scene was real. That he wasn’t dreaming—it was real. So, so terrifyingly real.