#ivanne

Ralph Lauren was once Rylan’s best friend in high school.

Now, he only served as a dull and dusty reminder of Rylan’s old and forsaken life as he laid to rot in the back of Rylan’s closet.

At least, that’s what Lauren had done up until today, where he now was grabbed carelessly by Rylan before being thrown under a hot, half-assed ironing job.

Frustration and panic bubbled just underneath Rylan’s skin at the sight of wrinkles relaxing into smooth cotton mesh.

“Why do I even c-care about what he thinks of m-my stupid shirt...” Rylan mumbled angrily underneath his breath, though he already knew the answer.

Though Rylan had spent these years apart from his father, he was still connected to him by blood - no, Rylan still chose to acknowledge the connection by blood, and still internally groveled, pined, for his dad’s approval again.

Unbeknownst to many though not hidden well when pushed, Rylan ached to be allowed back home again, and to be patted and hugged by his father for doing something that was worth his love. 

It had used to be so easy to accomplish in the past. Rylan would be lying if he said he didn’t still yearn for their relationship to go back to the way it used to be.

Shakily, Rylan set down the iron and sniffed, beginning to slip on the shirt, warm to the touch as it sent goosebumps running up his arms.

As much as Rylan despised his dad for what he had done, he knew that deep down inside, nothing would erase the memories of home-cooked meals and loud duets at karaoke nights.

“The black looks nice on you, Ry.” Julian piped up softly from beside him, promptly pulling him out of his daydream.

Rylan stiffened and glared at Julian before his brain could even register who it was. Like the pitiful pup he was, Rylan watched as Julian shriveled and knocked his knees together, lowering his gaze in shame.

Rage threatened to bubble over at the sight of Julian’s sorry sight. Even after a year or two of minimal conversation, nothing had changed.

Still as cowardly as ever.

“It looks a little big on you.” Ivanne mentioned quietly as she sat on the bed, tone (and dress, he noted reluctantly) reminiscent of their mother’s.

Rylan let out a harsh sigh through his nose, glancing at the mirror.

The black looked okay, but Ivanne was right. The shirt did look big on him.

However, Rylan wasn’t there to converse with his siblings, even though the temptation nibbled at him. So instead of responding, Rylan absentmindedly picked at the fabric that lay a little too comfortably on his stomach. High school clothes, after such a long time, should never be as loose as they were on him.

Frowning, Rylan briefly lamented over the violent cycle he was currently lodged in - the one that made him lack the motivation to endure daily exercising but also ache for a toned body again. 

Rylan made a mental note to convince Monet to go to the gym with him one day.

Once nice (enough) dress pants were slipped on and a leather belt was fastened around his waist at the tightest notch, Rylan grabbed his phone and quickly scrolled down to this morning’s text message from Monet, if only just to stop the trembling in his fingers:

hey babe! i know today has kinda been something you haven’t been looking forward to but I LOVE YOU!

remember that it’s only going to be a few days, and after that, im gonna treat you to whateeeeever you want :D

A small sigh left Rylan’s nose as a warm feeling coated his heart in a protective layer.

How fragile it was to shatter at the sound of three sharp knocks on the door.

Instinctively, Rylan shut the messaging app with clammy hands, sliding his phone into his pocket. Another sigh left him, shaky and small.

What warm feeling that was once there was rapidly replaced with dread and panic. After almost two years of avoiding his father, Rylan was finally going to be face to face with his worst nightmare - but also, his mind insisted, a possible fresh chance to be accepted again.

Rylan jumped out of his thoughts when he felt a warm hand on his knee. He glanced up with wide eyes to meet Julian’s seemingly cheerful gaze.

“You’ll be okay, Ry. We’re in this together.” He promised, nodding. Julian’s hand left before Rylan could be upset over not being able to react fast enough to act icy .

Blinking dumbly and frustrated that he missed a chance at snapping at Julian, Rylan scooted away with a huff.

“What do you even have t-to hide?” Rylan jabbed at him accusingly, earning an unsteady smile from Julian.

“Ha. Guess you’re right.”

The sound of the door opening by Ivanne caught both of their attentions, heads snapping to the tall figure that shadowed the doorway.

Rylan felt his mouth go dry as beside him, Julian stood up and straightened out his clothing, composure oddly as steady as Ivanne’s while two words left his mouth.

“Hi dad.”

--

David Li.

Also known as the man with authority that matched his intimidatingly tall stature.

Also known as the only man who could make Julian use a fork and knife like a civilized human being rather than scarf down his food like he usually did.

Also known as the man who flipped Rylan’s life upside down and who had once been one of the most important people in his life.

Would it be bad if he still was?

"Have you gotten taller, Julian?”

Rylan reflexively made himself as small as he could (while still maintaining a proper sitting position) when he heard the familiar scratchy tones of his dad’s voice. 

He hated how his heart rammed against his ribcage more out of longing than the nervousness and nausea swimming in his head.

With his eyes trained on the floor and blood rushing in his ears, Rylan listened to his dad’s slow footstep that were gradually getting closer.

“Only by two inches,” came Julian’s infuriatingly easy reply.

“You’re almost as tall as me.”

“Well I don’t think I’m going to get any taller.”

“Ah...I always forget that you’re not a young kid anymore,” he chuckled, causing Rylan to tighten his hands in both anxiousness and jealousy, only to relax them a second later when another familiar voice spoke up.

“Julie, are you still eating well?”

Rylan looked up in time to see a tired woman place a hand on Julian’s head, the weariness evident in the lines etched beside her smile and eyes, as well as the small white hairs that revealed themselves in the light with every turn of her head. 

Rylan’s gaze softened before he could stop himself from showing vulnerability. He sat there watching as his mom exchanged a few words with Julian before moving to place a kiss onto Ivanne’s forehead. 

Cecilia Li.

Also known as the only member of the family that Rylan still talked to on a semi-regular basis.

Also known as a kind but stern woman who, for some reason, knew how to be stern with everyone but her own husband.

Also known as one of the only reasons why Rylan was still on his feet after being beaten down, literally and metaphorically, by his father. 

Rylan’s gaze accidentally caught that of his dad’s, and he cursed himself for not being more respectful careful. Quick enough to give himself whiplash, Rylan averted his eyes to the ground, trying to breathe evenly through the sudden spike of his heartbeat.

A cursory glance at his father was enough for Rylan to remember just why he used to be so scared of the man.

Standing at a frightening 6′3″ with broad shoulders and perfect posture to match, it was too easy to remember that this was the kind of man that commanded power simply through sole presence alone. 

Rylan’s father had bite and charisma in his words, and a hell of a sting to his backhand.

Which was why a scream nearly left Rylan’s mouth when a cold hand came down on his shoulder. 

Rylan instinctively drew his legs up into his chest, body moving slower than his brain when he laid eyes on his mother standing in front of him. He tried to force himself to relax, but couldn’t shake off the fear of his dad watching them from across the room.

“How have you been, Rylie?” came her soothing Portuguese, followed by a smile and a hand through his hair. Rylan’s eyes closed as he let himself melt into her touch, not realizing until that moment just how badly he had been craving this kind of affection.

“I’ve been okay.” Rylan replied softly, and for a moment, he really believed it. In that moment, with his mother’s hand carding carefully through his hair, he really did feel okay. 

“When was the last time you showered, meu filho?” She chastised gently, examining her fingers with a wrinkle of her nose. Rylan looked up and smiled sheepishly.

“Two days ago...?”

“Only two days?”

“Mamãe...”

The sound of her laughter warmed Rylan’s heart to the point where he couldn’t help but crack a small smile of his own. The sight of his mother’s usual smile lines framing her mouth nearly made him laugh as well, the feeling coming to him as shockingly effortless.

“Oh Rylie, you know I am just - “

“Celia.”

The smile that appeared on Rylan’s face disappeared just as quickly. The heaviness in Rylan’s chest returned with a vengeance and so did his inclination to glue his eyes back on the floor.

With his gaze away from his mother, it was hard to gauge how she reacted to his father’s voice. With reluctance, Rylan silently wished.

“David...?”

“Enough of that.” 

To be reduced to nothing but a simple “that” should have hurt more, Rylan thought to himself, a familiar sort of soreness materializing in his chest again. 

After a bit of hesitance, his mother’s hand was removed from his hair, much to his disappointment. Though he longed to look at anything other than the carpet beneath his feet, Rylan honestly wasn’t sure about how long he would last before crumbling under his father’s scrutinizing gaze. 

And Rylan knew that would only fuel his father’s unending pack of ammunition against him. 

“Our family dinner reservation is soon, Celia, so we should be going.”

Rylan breathed a sigh of relief when he heard his heavy footsteps move away from him and towards the doorway. Tentatively, Rylan looked up towards his mother’s weary expression that hastily morphed into one of reassurance as she reached towards him.

“Come on, Rylie.”

Of course, his father was quick to respond to that gesture.

“He doesn’t need to be there. I said it was a family dinner.”

The room was quiet, save for the sound of Julian already leaving the uncomfortable area and Ivanne’s tired sigh.

“David.” she snapped firmly, quoting him from before. “Enough of that.”

Rylan’s father was quick to roll his eyes, but chose not to respond, much to his relief. 

Rylan found solace in the tight grip of his mother’s hand, and concentrated on not doing something embarrassing like breaking into tears as he stood. 

Looking at the clock, Rylan frowned, longing for the hands of the clock to move just a little faster.

So far, his dad still hadn’t interacted with him directly, and Rylan had yet to determine whether or not he was elated at that. The good thing was that even though his father clearly wasn’t in the greatest of moods, no direct contact meant little chance of his dad berating and/or laying a hand on him like he did in the past.