Chapter Text
Naim Reid seemed too good to be true.
Their first real interaction was after a late service, which later, Ryan would see as almost laughably ironic. The air was crisp, the amber hue of the streetlights adding to the strangeness in the atmosphere that night.
It wasn't often that Ryan was able to climb the roof of the church. Most days the gate surrounding the ladder was locked, and people were loitering around the building, removing the point of a solitary smoke when you could still see and hear so many people, and they could see and hear you.
Tonight was one of the lucky nights. No one around aside from the few people still inside, including his parents.
The brick was cold against his bare arms as he leaned against the wall, his lighter in hand and ever-shimmering with its freshly-cleaned silver casing. Just as he was about to turn to head up the rusty ladder, the back door beside him opened with an aggressive shove, making Ryan nearly jump and drop his lighter at the silence being broken so suddenly.
It was the new boy from school. The fresh face during the service he couldn't stop looking at. The doe-turned-human that had just moved in a couple streets away. Who moves to a place like this? Most people just want to get away.
He was already intriguing, most likely dragged into this by his mother who went everywhere with him. No Dad as far as he knew. He'd been wanting to speak to him for days, but he was always... surrounded. By people. This was the first time they were alone together.
Ryan spoke first.
"Naim, right?"
Naim looked at him startled, the whites of his eyes visible for a moment in the dim light.
"I— yeah."
Hours passed in the fifteen minutes they sat on the roof, the sun all but vanished beneath the horizon. It was odd, talking to Naim. Despite being a stranger Ryan felt more himself around him than any of his mates, of which there were few, only Hunter, really, if he even counted.
Ryan struggled to put his finger on it. Naim was like the only real person in a town full of brainwashed dickheads. Time with him was a guilty pleasure, a treat, even— a reward for maintaining his falsified identity in front of others. He didn't need to do that with Naim. Naim could see into his soul.
Yes, that night felt like a first for Ryan. A first what, he didn't know. A first friend, perhaps. First real one.
Ryan was the one that spoke mostly, asking Naim questions about where he was from and what he liked and how he was settling in so far. It was easy to get the impression that Naim didn't like "here" very much, but was too polite to be straightforward about it. Ryan liked that. He spoke to too many assholes who feigned their kindness and piety. Everyone in this town loves violence. They just call it something else.
"What do they call it?" Naim questioned, passing the joint to Ryan after he had said so.
Ryan simply looked at him and smiled for a moment. There were many answers to that question. Necessary, inevitable, judgment.
Yes. Judgement.
A voice of a woman then called out from below. "Naim? Are you out here?"
"Shit," Naim whispered. "It's my mum."
He stood up reluctantly, walking closer to the edge towards the rear of the building, his mother looking around, clutching her cardigan.
"Here, Mum." Naim called out.
"Naim!" she gasped, "What are you doing up there?"
Naim glanced at Ryan, who was just out of her view. "Uhhh.... needed some air. I'm okay now."
"Alright. Is someone there with you?"
Naim looked at Ryan again, who shook his head.
"No. Just me."
"Get down from there, then. We're leaving."
"Okay."
Ryan stared as Naim solemnly made his way to the ladder, no goodbye, no apology, taking all the warmth and softness with him. He and his mother talked about something and nothing as they got in their car and drove away to nowhere, a puff of heat thumping in Ryan's chest. It must be the weed.
Ryan stood up and stared at the car until he couldn't anymore. He looked at the ground below him, so far away he wondered what would happen if he took that step forward. He thought about that a lot, and today was the first time he felt he could simply land on his feet like a cat and walk away. Today was the first time he felt a taste of the invincibility he pretended to have.