The Obsession

The blood was still on the bed. The blood still adorned the wall, as well as the floor. What made this blood slightly unique, if not significant? It was Ryan's blood that was shed here in his room. The place he once thought of as a 'sanctuary' now turned to a hellish nightmare with the com dried onto his hair, shoulders, sheets, and thighs. Blood dried onto his head along with the sheets and a little bit of the blood he had coughed up before had dried up on his mouth.

Now, you think he would have showered, but he just simply did not feel the need to. You think he would have at least tried to clean up the blood and com. But he did not. Why? Simple; he just didn't care anymore.

It was like as if he was frozen onto his bed. Frozen in fear; unable to move, breathe or think. Yet he felt safer in that position than anywhere else at the moment.

The moment he heard knocking at his door, the door to his bedroom was locked.

"Ryan! Ryan, please, oh fuck.." Jon called out from behind the front door.

Ryan never got up and he never answered the door. Why would he? After what Jon did to him, why should he even consider it? Especially after what his so-called 'dad' did to him..

Instead, he just laid there in his blood filled bed and began to sob quietly to himself. I could have prevented this. I should have kicked him out right when Jon left. I shouldn't have been so absurd as to think that Jon would stay be me..let alone believe me. Oh well, it was all damned to happen sometime. Ryan thought in his head while he reached for a ski mask, some gloves, a pair of socks, a pair of baggy jeans, and a baggy shirt.

Jon, on the other hand, had rushed over to the front desk and had gotten himself a spare key. When he opened the door, he saw nothing unusual about the place. In fact, everything looked..well, normal. Everything looked like the way it was before George had gone in the apartment.

He decided to call out Ryan's name, "Ryan!" he called out. He heard nothing in response. "Ryan! Oh fuck, Ryan.. Ryan, tell me you are not dead! Ryan! Get out here! Oh shit. He was fucking kidnapped! I knew I should've came here earlier!"

There was a loud knock on Ryan's bedroom door. True, he wanted to be far, far, far away from Jon but he felt like as if he needed him there.

"Ryan! On thank God! I read your book and I really fucked it up. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." he cried.

Ryan just stayed in his room, emotionless. This whole experience left him..numb. Instead of responding, he opted for putting on his ski mask, baggy shirt, pants, socks, and gloves. After he had all the aforementioned on, he wrote down on a little post-it note, 'get brendon over here, now!! tell him its urgent!'

When Jon saw the note slide underneath the door, he read it. He felt confused at first, but then asked, "Why Brendon? ..Am I forgiven for the stupid shit I did and said to you, Ryry?"

Another note slid under the door, the words in read ink said in angry manner, 'JUST FUCKING GET HIM HERE NOW!!'

Jon read it, picked up his phone, and dialed Brendon's number.

"Bren?"

"Jon? You fucking son of a bitch! How the hell could you have hit Ryan!? Are you insane! What the hell you motherfucker! Couldn't you even try to listen to him? His dad is a maniac, fucking moron! You deserve to fucking die, Walker for even touching him like that and-"

"Ryan needs you here right now!" Jon interrupted.

Brendon was silent. Then he stuttered out, "W-Wha.. Why? What happened? What is going on? Is he okay? Oh shit, no.. Get him on the phone for me, please, Jon."

He was begging but all Jon could do was ask, "Ryan, Brendon wants to talk to you. Do you want to talk to him?"

A note slid underneath the door, reading, 'tell him to get over here now. i need to tell him this in person.'

Jon just sighed and told him, "Brendon.. He's not talking right now. He's..locked up in his room, writing notes to me and sliding them underneath his door as a way of answering my questions. He just needs you here right now. He needs to speak to you in person."

Brendon was yet again quiet. But Jon could the keys of a keyboard going off in the background. "Bren?"

"I have a red-eye flight booked for Florida tonight. I will call you up when I get at the airport. Goodbye."

He hung up and Jon sighed. He needed someone to help him out right now. Someone who knew Ryan better than he did. Okay, so he needed Brendon, but he's still gonna try to save his crush from whatever has consumed him.

He then told him soothingly, "Ryan, Brendon is coming right now. He had a flight booked for Florida tonight, so I guess he'll be here in the morning, okay?"

All he heard in response was a whimper and some scribbling of pen on a paper. The note was soon in Jon's hands and it read, 'you still are not forgiven for what you did to me. you still are not the person i want by me. you still are not considered a friend to me as of the moment. but, just for getting brendon to come over and for even showing up to say sorry and that you read my crappy book... i guess i can admit that you are the person i need right now. even though i despise you for leaving me with him, but still..i owe you a thank you as much as you did me an apology. thank you jon walker.'

Jon smiled to himself then muttered, "No problem, Ry. And again, I am sorry for being a fucktarded, brain dead, repulsive asshole."

He got no other note from there on.