Landfill

Ryan's fingers trailed invisible spirals up and down my back. The room was warm, from our body heat and the heater. His cheek pressed agains my shoulder, I could feel his breath against my skin.

"Do you want to go on a trip?" He asked softly. "To California?"

I looked over at him, "Why?"

"Just to go." He answered.

I shrugged, "Yeah, sure. I haven't been in a while."

"We could go for Christmas."

I smiled, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "I still got some money."

"You don't have to spend your money--"

He cut me off, "I want to. Believe me."

I nodded, "Okay... Yeah, we should go."

"How about in a few days?"

"Is that gonna be my Christmas present?"

He laughed, "Maybe."

I snuggled closer to him, "As long as I'm with you, I don't care."

He kissed my temple, "I only want it that way, Nick."

Ryan and I didn't move for a long time. Night came and went, and then it was morning again; early morning. I rolled over, the both of us still naked, and pulled my body closer to his. He let out a sigh and kissed my forehead; "I don't want to move, but I have work."

I sighed too, "Ugh. Working sucks."

He smiled, "You're the genius, I don't think you'll ever have to work."

"I have to come up with stories." I sat up, keeping myself covered with the sheet, "Speaking of which, I think I'm gonna turn my book into a movie."

He looked at me with a raised brow, "Really?"

"Yeah... The publishers were telling me about it. I think I want to do it."

Ryan looked impressed, "That sounds awesome, Nick."

"Should I?"

"If you want to." He answered. "It's your work."

I exhaled, "I gotta call Molly about everything. I'm dreading the thought of writing or reading screenplays or whatever the hell they do to make movies."

Ryan chuckled, "Screenplays." He corrected.

"Yeah, those." I laid back, "You think it's a good idea?"

"Sure. I loved it, though I never thought about it being a movie... It'd be cool as a movie, now that I think about it."

I bit at my lip, "Prepared to be dazzled when I'm a Hollywood hit, Ryan."

He shook his head, laughing again, "Don't forget about me."

"Never," I kissed his lips, "Now, get your butt up and get to work."

He huffed funnily, jokingly, "Yes ma'am."

I smiled as he got up and pulled his boxers on and proceeded to the bathroom. I inhaled deeply, wrapping myself up in the blanket and sheet.


Molly had already had a handful of different screenplays written by different writers and directors. I was surprised that people actually took time to write it out to their liking. I was nervous and slightly annoyed by the thought; it was flattering, but it bugged me nonetheless.

"What're you so upset about?" She questioned, "You don't have to do anything."

"I don't know," I began, "I'm still thinking about this all."

"It's a big opportunity--"

"Yeah, yeah, and I get paid tons of dollars." I sighed, coursing my hair back, "Send them to me, will ya? I'll read them."

"You sound like you'll have free time." Molly inquired with wonder.

"Uh, yeah. I'm a writer, all I got is free time, Moll."

"No," she hummed, "There's more." She was curious, that one was teasing and begging.

"I'm going to California for the holiday." I finally said; it came out flat. "It's not big deal."

"With that new man of yours?"

"Yes."

She giggled, "Lucky, lucky girl."

"Very." I smirked. "So, don't forget me to send me those scripts or whatever."

"Will do, Nikki."

I hung up with Molly, and finally got my ass up and showered. After, I had sat down to eat, and was interrupted when Ryan came in; I saw him as I poured cereal into my bowl. "You're home early." I said as he came in.

He looked exhausted, eyes widened though, "When do you wanna leave?" He asked without saying even a hello.

I raised my brow, "Uh... Whenever...?" It came out more of a question.

He exhaled, looking around, "Tomorrow morning good?"

I shook my head, "No. Molly's sending me scripts-- why tomorrow?"

He shrugged, "Just... Thinking."

I was confused, "Are you alright, Ry?"

He came over to me and put his hands on my hips, "I'm fine."

He looked flushed, his face radiated heat. "Are you ill?"

He shook his head, "No, I feel great actually."

I knew he was lying; he was pale as sweaty. "No, you aren't."

Jimmy purred in and sauntered to his feeding bowl. I looked back at Ryan, his hands squeezing my hips gently, "I'll have Brendon watch Jimmy."

"Ryan, are you alright?" I questioned again, "What's going on?"

He pulled away from me, standing against the counter, "I just want I leave." He answered.

"How come?"

"I don't know... I hate my job."

I frowned, "Why don't you quit?"

He gave a hollow laugh, "Wish I could, but I can't."

"It's just a record store." I muttered.

Ryan just looked at me; his face completely blank. His chest rose and then fell heavily, but no deep breaths. "I'm gonna go lie down... I need to think."

"Do you need anything?" I asked before he walked off.

"No... Maybe some wine." He mumbled.

I looked at the clock on the radio on the counter; it was only 1pm. I licked over my lips, feeling this unsettling and nervous feeling in my gut. Something wasn't right here.