Starry eyed. Optimistic. Joyous abandon.
All words that didn't really describe Ryan Cross in this life.
The city of Hemetopolis rose up in the near distance, just a beautiful skyline set to a backdrop of the West Coast harbor off Hwy 1. Located South from Monterey, the city-scape was stunning; housed over a million beings from various decent, backgrounds, species and locales.
It was a hot metropolis booming with Casinos, an insane nightlife, new "must visit" attractions like fine dining, the Wharf, and the art district was supposed to be lit. There was a stunning interactive aquarium and one of the Countries top five elite colleges people from all over fought tooth and nail to get into.
Celebrities had been buying homes up in the High Districts, and along the pristine, white sanded beaches, and all in all, Ryan had heard, the LGBTQ community was in full swing and had found a nice little niche to thrive in.
For some poor kid from Ohio, he was making a big leap of faith; big enough that the only reason he was making this plunge, was his acceptance into said elite college, Hemet University or, HU.
The moment couldn't have come at a better time. His parents were all but throwing him out the doors; he had been a second from staring down the barrell of living in his car while he bartended any hours he could get, so that acceptance letter? He had sat down in the shower of his childhood home and cried for an hour over it, had no clue how he'd make it out here, but God damn it he was going to give it a shot.
He thought that, fingers white knuckled on the steering wheel of his shitty, beat-ass Corolla and hit the first indicator of backed up traffic heading into the city, and suddenly had all kinds of time to contemplate his life choices.
So much time, in fact, he got the chance to watch the sun make it's final graceful glide over the flat, blue waters, a little awed by the beauty of it, before it descended down behind the city line itself and cast the high rises into stunning amber-gold repose and twilight shadows.
Somewhere, in that mix, was a tiny one bedroom apartment with his name on the lease, and somewhere else was a job he'd surely have to find swiftly and with haste before his savings rapidly vanished.
Somewhere in that city was his new life, and if he could just make it through this crush of damn traffic before hitting E, that would've been real swell.
It was a real concern now, and it took about fifteen minutes before he morphed into a city driver and blasted his horn with real impatience riding him, scowled when the driver ahead just whipped him off and made himself settle back in for the long haul.
Typical.
He knew one thing though; life was rarely sunshine and daisies, caught the reflection of his own dark blue eyes back at him in the rear view mirror. He looked tired honestly and not just from lack of sleep. He looked how he felt; just a little bitter, a little jaded and weary of having to make these kinds of life altering choices with nothing but a wish and a prayer.
For being all of nineteen?
Life had already smacked him around a lot, and his only real hope now was that maybe, he'd find his own niche and make his own path, and maybe, just maybe find his own success.
It was about the only optimism he had left in him to give while he sat in traffic, watching Hemetopolis light up like a disco ball while the night encroached, sent his last prayer to whatever deity felt helpful enough to listen and cranked his music up.
Let the games begin.
M. Lane
