Title: Goodbye
Pairings: Implied onesided Ryan/Seth on Seth's side.
Rating: Ah…I dunno, swearing comes frequesntly. it dpeneds how toy would define it I guess... but M just to be safe.
Summary: Seth did write Ryan a goodbye note...
Authors note: Plot bunnies like gnawing. Where it has s>is meant to be a strikethrough /s>
He sighed, blue ball point pen tapping against the lined paper in front of him.
s>Dear Ryan/s>
God no.
Ryan/s>
Still no.
Bastard, /s>
He snorted. No. As pissed off as he was with him right now he wasn't going to start a letter to him with bastard. If he was that angry he would have just used a red pen and wrote like one word or something.
Ry,
Wasn't exactly what he had been going for when he had started but it would have to do.
You know what, I don't even know why I'm writing this, it's not like you even give a damn I just am. Just think about it as the good bye note I never wrote for you. Asshole. So Summer probably hates me right now and my parents are probably threatening to ground me until I'm fifty, mom is probably thinking about dragging me home myself and locking me away for the rest of my natural life actually not that it matters anyway, I probably would have just me locked myself in my bedroom anyway without you.
If the Parental Units haven't told you already I'm in Portland with Luke and his dad. Carson and I actually talked about you yesterday when Luke was out, it was good having someone who doesn't just think you're a whiny self conceited brat to burden with your problems and understand them. Carson brought his boyfriend home the other night, Luke was all like unsure of how to act, you should have been here man it was hilarious but you weren't you were in Chino with THE BITCH!
He removed his hand from the paper with a shaky breath. He was writing way more than he had intended to.
Summer and I did what could be kind of considered talking the other night. She screamed and I tried to explain. I think she already knows but doesn't want me to say it because it would make it all the more true. During the scream-fest she let it slip that she is concerned about Marissa apparently she has spent her summer so far in a drunken abyss lucky her. Summer got even angrier at me when I didn't try to sooth her woes. What does she think I am, Superman? I have my own woes to sooth thank you very much. Plus, it's Marissa's own fault if she's attempting to absorb her whole body weight in alcohol. She wasn't exactly fighting for you to stay in Newport unlike me. I was going to sell the Summer Breeze for you, you fucktard and yet no one has any compassion for me. Well screw them.
He pulled back again, drawing in yet another shaky breath as his hand began to imitate it, his brain scattered everywhere. He closed his eyes for a split second before returning the tightly griped pen to the page.
However our ex-girlfriends aren't why I'm writing to you, like I said earlier I don't know why I am. Actually that's not true, I'm writing because Carson said it would be good for me and hey…he is the one with the experience in this scenario. Maybe I'm hoping that once you read what you've caused you'll hop the next SUV back to Newport so I can come home too. No I know I don't actually blame you but I do however hate it or if you prefer it this way, in the immortal words of Fall Out Boy; I don't blame you for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it.
Ha. I think my music is conspiring against me. I have Death Cab playing in the background. Transatlanticism. I don't need them telling me that I need you so much closer. I know how I fucking feel, not that you care that is.
I am finally agreeing with you and Summer that my music is depressing. I'm playing Death Cab in the background and it's not helping things. I need you so much closer? So come on over? I've decided I hate songs that sing to me now. You have no idea how much I want you to be here, hell you don't know how much I want us to be at home.
The song has changed now, but not for the better. Instead of I need you so much closer it's singing the words that I should have sung to you, maybe I'll settle for writing them instead. What would you say if I asked you not to go? To forget everyone, forget everything and start over with me. Would you take my hand and never let me go? Promise me you never let me go.
What would you have said if had of said that? What would you have done if I had of told you the whole truth? Would you have held me in your arms and said that you would figure out something else with the baby? Would you have left hating me, disgusted? Would you have just looked at me with pity in your ocean blue depths, the one someone gives you when you love them but they can't ever love you back?
God there I finally admitted it I love you. I, Seth Cohen, am totally in love with my best friend, Ryan Atwood, in a very minty way. A nothing but minty way. I know what you're thinking; what about Summer, right? I love her, I truly do, I'm just not in love with her. I'm sure she knows too but realised it after she had fallen for me and it had just been easier to cling than anything.
Yeah, love. It's a bitch. Kind of like Summer with PMS though instead of ripping you jugular out, it rips out your heart and shreds it into a thousands of pieces of confetti; leaving you void of emotions.
I wasn't planning on telling you all of this, hell I wasn't even planning on writing more than a paragraph but here we are. I'm not going to send this anymore, I feel better just having put it all down.
With one last shuddering breath and pause he finished the letter. Sighing once he had folded it up and placed it in his pocket.
"Hey, Cohen." A voice called out, bringing him crashing back down into reality. He looked up to see Luke leaning against his doorframe. He gave the blonde a weak look and somehow Luke knew not to ask. "You. Me. Amanda. Jane. Beech. Vodka. You up for it?" he questioned with a raised brow. Seth let his hand brush over the newly folded note and stood up.
"What are we waiting for?" the brunette questioned.
Hours later he stood in the cool Portland waters as the tiny waves lapped around his knees, his buzz from the drinking held earlier slowly wearing off. He looked from the empty bottle in his right hand to the folded letter in his right and then black again. Making up his mind, he placed the letter in the bottle then replaced the lid; giving it one last longing look for measure. He turned around to see Luke and the girls laughing it up on the shore, a bottle being passed between the three of them.
"Cohen, get your ass up here and defend my honour; Luke is teasing me." Jane pouted making Seth snort but willing to go back anyway. He gave one last look out at the broad horizon of ocean and then threw the bottle as far as he could without a second thought.
I guess this is Goodbye…
Love,
Seth