#i wonder if the drivers tease him about this stuff in their whatsapp group chat

[petit-papillion]

Redditors on board the Charles train today (Part 2)

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Cape Town. (Part 3) (Ryan Ross x Reader)

~Wednesday, 28 days until the guys leave~

“So, how was your day?” Ryan asked you as your group stood under the awning of the bus stop while you waited for the Red Bus to arrive.

“The last couple hours have been great, thanks for asking,” you giggled, and he blushed at the realisation of how stupid his question was, since it was only 9am.

Luckily, the bus pulled up right then, saving Ryan from making even more of a fool of himself. You and (Y/B/F) rounded up all of the guys before boarding the bus that had a neon orange sign reading ‘BLUE ROUTE’.

Each of you flashed the driver your tickets before climbing the steps up to the open top level of the bus. You were leading the group, so you sat down first. Out of the two-seater rows, you chose the aisle seat – because of the height of the bus.

Ryan’s face lit up with the prospect of sitting next to you and he picked up his pace slightly in order to push past his band mates – and (Y/B/F) – to get to you. Brendon noticed this, and literally jumped over the two seats in front of you so that he could beat Ryan and claim the empty seat next to you first.

You frowned a little bit once Brendon had landed next to you – in response to the randomness – and laughed lightly. “Hi, Brendon.”

“Hey, (Y/N),” he beamed at you, waving his hand.

(Y/B/F) raised her eyebrows in amusement before taking a seat in the row behind you and Brendon. She gripped the back of your chair and leaned forward; you turned to face her.

“Guess what Cameron just sent to the group chat,” she said, opening up WhatsApp on her phone and pulling up the messages on your friend group chat.

The two of you got into a discussion over the chat, allowing for Ryan to throw his hands out in confusion and toss a huge glare at Brendon, who smirked at him.

Brendon shook his head at his friend as he wagged his pointer finger as if to say that Ryan wasn’t allowed to sit next to you.

“Oh no, no, no,” Brendon cautioned before turning to make conversation with you, since you had finished speaking to (Y/B/F). Ryan pouted slightly before dejectedly shuffling down the aisle to take a seat next to (Y/B/F).

Ryan plopped down in his seat behind Brendon and angrily kicked at the singer’s chair. (Y/B/F) caught on to what Brendon was doing and since she agreed with his motives, she decided to talk to Ryan – much like Brendon was talking to you.

This was all well and good, except for the fact that Ryan was not interested at all. He just continued pouting and glaring daggers at the back of his friend’s head.

Brendon was making a consistent effort to drag out your conversation for as long as possible, not allowing for any gaps that Ryan could use to jump in and gain your attention. The singer even roped poor Spencer and Jon – who were in the seats in front of you – into the conversation, so that there was an endless amount of subjects to talk about.

(Y/B/F) kept up her attempts at making talk with Ryan, but the guitarist only replied with one word answers or phrases that showed he wasn’t even really paying any attention to what she was saying; he was too focused on looking at you.

“…and that’s the story of how I sold my soul to the Devil,” (Y/B/F) concurred, tossing a small smile Ryan’s way.

“Totally,” Ryan replied; and she sniggered, knowing full well that he had no idea what she had just said.

Ryan continued watching you as you laughed loudly at something Brendon had just said. Deciding that he had had enough, he interrupted your conversation.

“(Y/N),” he said, leaning forward and catching both your and Brendon’s attention, “I just wanted to tell you that you look really pretty today.”

Brendon narrowed his eyes at his friend.

You were taken aback at his kind words smiled shyly at him, “Thank you, Ryan.”

“Are you saying she doesn’t look pretty on other days?” Brendon interrogated, making Ryan’s eyes widen in panic.

“What? N-no! Of course she does! She looks pretty every day!”

“That’s not what you said on Monday,” Brendon scoffed, turning away from Ryan to face you, “He said you looked bland.”

Ryan gasped in shock and you frowned a little bit.

“I never said that!” Ryan defended before leaning in and saying something to Brendon, who in turn said something back. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their facial expressions told you that they were no doubt in the middle of an argument.

As their argument drew on, their voices became steadily louder and you were beginning to hear their words. Fortunately for them, their other two bandmates thought fast and distracted you.

“Uh, hey, (Y/N)!” Jon called to you, “Could you explain this thing on the brochure to us?”

“Oh,” you turned to them, scooting forward in your seat so that you were nearer to him and Spencer, “Yeah, sure.”

Meanwhile, Brendon and Ryan continued their dispute.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Brendon demanded.

“What am I doing?” Ryan scoffed, “What are you doing?”

“I am trying to stop this from turning into some cliché fanfiction!”

“What does that even mean?” Ryan squinted and shook his head, “Nevermind, I don’t care. Just stop it.”

“No. You stop it. I’m not gonna let you chase after her and then both of you end up hurt.”

Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but (Y/B/F) interrupted by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and leaning in to both him and Brendon.

“Uh, guys��� We kinda need to get off now. Could you two finish this a bit later?”

~

Your group had disembarked from the bus at the beautifully scenic Beau Constantia, and the six of you were now en route to the wine tasting venue.

You were walking with Spencer, talking about your studies when a noticeably worrisome Ryan jogged up to you.

“Hi, Ryan,” you greeted with a smile.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he chuckled nervously as he gave you a lopsided grin before his face turned serious, “I just wanted to tell you that I didn’t say any of the things Brendon said I did earlier.”

“Yes, you did!” Brendon called out and Ryan turned around to growl at him.

“Shut up!” The guitarist closed his eyes and shook his head a little before looking back at you with that same worrisome glance he had worn when he approached you, “I swear that I didn’t. I would never. You’re anything but bland.”

You looked down and chuckled softly before bringing your eyes to meet Ryan’s again. “It’s okay, I believe you.”

“You do?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. When you nodded in confirmation, he heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“But,” you frowned, making his nervous demeanour reappear, “why would Brendon say that you did?”

Ryan grumbled under his breath and shook his head. “Because he’s a fucking idiot, that’s why,” he responded. Upon realising that his words were a bit impolite, his eyes went wide. “S-sorry. That was a bit unnecessary.”

“Don’t worry,” you laughed; the sound made Ryan relax, “I feel the exact same about (Y/B/F) sometimes. Guess that’s another thing we have in common,” you shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said softly, smiling gently at you. You returned the gesture and smiled back at him.

“Good afternoon,” the host greeted, and it was only then that the two of you realised you had walked all the way up to the entrance, “Table for the lovely couple?”

Both of your eyes grew to the size of the moon and you stammered out of embarrassment, cheeks heating up.

“Uh, no, we’re-we’re not…” Ryan spluttered, nervously readjusting his hat.

“We-we’re here with a group,” you explained, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and jutting a thumb over your shoulder at the rest of your friends, “Table for six, please.”

“Of course,” the host bowed his head slightly before holding his hands out to direct you, “Follow me, please.”

He led you to the centre of the wonderful tasting room with ceiling-high glass windows overlooking the vineyard, and placed your group at a table surrounded by leather couches.

“Please make yourself comfortable and one of our staff will be with you shortly,” the host said courteously, setting down a couple of snack menus on the table.

“Wow, this place is seriously beautiful,” Jon let out a low whistle, raising his head so that he could get a better look at the view of the vineyard.

“How long has it been around for?” Spencer questioned, looking between you and (Y/B/F).

“The land was originally covered in pine trees and South Africa’s most famous indigenous plant – fynbos,” you started, “But then in 2000, there were some devastating fires and all of the vegetation was destroyed. Fortunately, the slopes were then cleared and terraced, which exposed great potential for the planting of vineyards.”

“And then in 2002,” (Y/B/F) continued, “Pierre and Cecily Du Preez purchased the 22 hectare property and after extensive soil analysis, the first vineyards were planted in 2003 with the help of dedicated farm manager, Japie Bronn.”

The guys all pulled impressed faces as Brendon spoke. “Damn. You guys really know your stuff, huh?”

“What? Did you think you had two unknowledgeable poppies for tour guides?” (Y/B/F) teased, cocking an eyebrow.

The band shared a confused glance.

“’Poppies’?” Ryan quizzed, genuinely confused by the Afrikaans word.

“Dolls,” you translated, and the guys ‘ahh’ed in understanding, “But yeah,” you turned to look at Brendon, “we have to know all of these things. Unless we wanna be sucky ass tour guides one day.”

“Well, you’re doing an amazing job so far,” Ryan complimented and you turned to smile at him.

“Thanks,” you beamed, making Ryan smile and Brendon roll his eyes at his bandmate’s constant attempt to buy your affection.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gents. Welcome to Beau Constantia,” your waiter greeted with a huge grin as he carefully set down a jug of ice water and six glasses, “My name is Andrew and I’ll be taking care of you today. Might I recommend ordering one of our delicious cheese boards before we get started?” he gestured to the menu on the table, “Just so that the effects of the alcohol are numbed a little bit.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the best idea,” Ryan chuckled, knowing that his friends tended to go overboard sometimes.

“(Y/N), (Y/B/F),” Spencer addressed you as he and Brendon looked over the menu, “What do you guys recommend?”

You pursed your lips as you scanned over the page of eats. “The Bordeaux platter is quite good. You all okay with that?” Everyone agreed. “Alright then,” you handed the menus back to your waiter with a smile, “We’ll have that.”

“Excellent choice. I’ll go and have that prepared for you and then we can start with the tastings.”

~

“The first wine in the range and the first one you will be tasting today is the ‘Pierre’,” Andrew explained, retrieving the bottle of white wine from the bucket next to him and decanting a small amount in each of your glasses, “The incredibly low crop of grapes that were specifically selected to make the mere 2200 bottles of this meticulous blend of 87% Sauvignon Blanc and 13% Sémillon were picked from vines planted at the highest altitudes on the farm. Named after one of the founders of the Beau Constantia vineyard, this wine has a golden straw colour with a slight tinge of lime green. Fresh summer flavours of white peach, passion fruit and lime zest fill the first impression, which is confidently conveyed to the palate, where a well-balanced acidity and incredible concentration of flavour meet this wine’s rich, creamy texture with delicate oak flavours in perfect accord. Enjoy,” he held his hand out and smiled at you before walking away and allowing you to drink.

“Mm,” Brendon hummed as he took a sip, eyes growing with excitement, “This is good stuff!”

“Really good stuff,” Jon concurred, taking a huge gulp.

“Slow down there, tiger,” you giggled, “You don’t wanna get drunk of off the first bottle. There’s still five more to go.”

Jon waved a hand dismissively. “Ugh, I’ll be fine.”

~

By the time Andrew poured from the fourth bottle, Jon and Brendon were most definitely not fine.

“Where have you been all my life?” Jon whispered, staring intently at the glass of red wine he held in his hand.

“Why didn’t we come to South Africa sooner?” Brendon frowned at his friends, pouting slightly, “This shit is too good.”

You and (Y/B/F) looked on amusedly at the tipsy band members. South Africans had a tendency to hold their alcohol relatively well, so the two of you were perfectly fine. Ryan and Spencer, being the most reserved, were handling themselves well too and only drinking a portion of the wine being poured for them – unlike their friends.

“Guys, slow down a bit,” Ryan cautioned, a tad ashamed by his friends’ behaviour.

“Hey Ryan,” Brendon said softly, leaning in, “Shut up.”

He and Jon burst into a fit of giggles and Ryan rolled his eyes and groaned before turning to you.

“Talk to me,” he mumbled, wanting a distraction from his friends.

“About what?” you quizzed with a small smile, taking a sip from your wine.

“Anything,” he shrugged, “You said you were coloured – tell me more about your heritage and stuff.”

“Alright,” you nodded, clearing your throat and shifting in your seat so that you were facing him better, “We have a pretty rich heritage. We’ve always been the middlemen, in a way, since ya know, we’re not white, and we’re not black. During Apartheid, we were sorta stuck in the middle, and I think that’s where we’ve been ever since. Obviously, during Apartheid, white supremacy was the deal, so our people got all of our land and assets taken away. There was this one area specifically called ‘District Six’… it was a huge community of coloureds, and they fought to the end before it was eventually taken away. There’s actually an entire museum dedicated to it; we can visit it, if you’d like,” you said, and Ryan nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d love that!”

“Great,” you beamed, warmed by his enthusiasm, “We can work out the details later. So yeah, we’re a very complex race. We have such a unique origin and such unique values that I think we’re just… born with? I don’t know; it’s quite hard to explain. And obviously, as with any group of people, we have lots of different types of coloureds. Some are more refined than others, and some are much less. Sometimes that can cause a bit of a divide between us, but in the end we all have that same fire burning inside of us. Never piss us off, because we will end you. Regardless of what type we are,” you warned, giggling lightly when you saw his slightly scared expression, “But don’t worry; I don’t think you’d ever piss me off.”

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows somewhat and opened his mouth to reply, but he opted instead to just smile at you in adoration, in turn making you blush. You remained smiling at one another until Andrew approached your table for the fifth time.

“Are we ready for the fifth wine?”

~

Getting Brendon and Jon back to the bus was a bit of a struggle, but between the remaining four of you, you managed to get the sloshed musicians safely onto the vehicle and into their seats.

“(Y/N),” Brendon whined, leaning over his seat to rest his head on your shoulder, “I’m hungry!”

“This route takes us around Sea Point before we return to the Waterfront, where we started,” you answered, gently patting the singer’s head, “The entire Sea Point main road is filled with restaurants; we can hop off and get something to eat there.”

“Okay,” he mumbled.

(Y/B/F) shook her head in disapproval as she looked between Brendon and Jon. “Ya know, the whole idea behind the Red Bus tour is to see the sights. But you two can barely see the ground beneath your feet, nevermind the beauty of Cape Town.”

Jon made a ‘pfft’ noise and rolled his eyes. “We can always go on one of these tours again. We have lots of time.”

(Y/B/F) looked at you with raised eyebrows and you shrugged, resuming your action of stroking the head of a mumbling Brendon.

“(Y/N)?” Ryan shifted forward in his seat behind you, so that you could hear him better.

“Mm?” you responded, turning your head slightly so that you could see some of his pretty face.

“I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry about my bandmates’ atrocious behaviour,” he said softly, “I promise that I won’t let them embarrass the group like that ever again.”

You laughed quietly and the sound made Ryan’s heart flutter. “It’s okay, Ryan. Seriously. My friends are a million times worse than this. This is nothing. Believe me.”

“Okay,” Ryan breathed, clearly relieved, “As long as you’re not upset.”

“I’m not,” you confirmed.

“Good. Because,” he looked down at his lap and twiddled his fingers, “I – I mean we – really like spending time with you, and I don’t wanna chase you away.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, either.”

~

As the Red Bus came to a halt in the bustling main road of Sea Point, your group thanked the driver and disembarked, the guys staring in awe at their surroundings.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Spencer let out a low whistle as he drank in all the restaurants on the opposite side of the road. “Wow. How are we gonna choose where to eat? All of these places look so good.”

“Right?” Ryan scoffed, joining his friend in gazing at the variety of eateries, “I wanna try everything.”

“We were thinking Hudson’s,” (Y/B/F) chirped, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “It’s this grill place; they’re quite popular.”

The guys shared some nods and shrugs.

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” Spencer said, “Lead the way.”

~

“Damn, how do we pick something to order?” Brendon said, eyes darting across the pages of the menu, “Everything sounds delicious.”

(Y/B/F) laughed. “If you guys are gonna say that during everything we do, this is gonna be a lonngg trip.”

“I want it to last for as long as possible,” Ryan spoke, glancing over at you. You shyly averted your gaze, biting your lip as you pretended to read the menu. Brendon groaned as he grabbed a serviette from the centre of the table, crumbled it up into a ball, and tossed it at Ryan’s face.

Before Ryan could retaliate, your waitress appeared. “Hello everyone,” she greeted with a smile as she retrieved her notepad from the front pocket of her apron, “My name is Siba and I’ll be your waitress for this afternoon. Can I get you guys some drinks so long?”

“A chocolate brownie milkshake, please,” you and Ryan spoke in unison; both of you turned to each other with wide-eyes once you realised you had said the same thing.

“Okay,” Siba smirked, scribbling down the order and taking those of the rest of your group before walking off to the kitchen, leaving you and Ryan still staring at each other as everyone else watched the two of you with intense gazes.

Smiles slowly formed on both of your faces and you giggled. “Good choice. It’s yummy.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Brendon made a soft gagging noise and Ryan clicked his tongue at him. Fortunately, (Y/B/F) changed the subject to movies before the two males could get into another argument. The topic stayed the same until Siba brought over the drinks order.

The waitress set down everyone’s respective drinks, but when she got to you and Ryan, she set only one milkshake down on the table, in between you two. A milkshake that was two times the usual size. And that had two straws in it.

“Uh…” you started, frowning a little.

“We ordered separate ones…” Ryan finished, glancing up at Siba, who widened her eyes.

“Ooooh!” she exclaimed, pointing between the two of you, “You aren’t together?”

“No,” you both stammered, totally flustered as everyone else sniggered.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she apologised profusely, “I’ll bring another one.”

“Wait,” you held out a hand to stop her, “I don’t mind sharing this one. I mean, look at the size of it! There’s no way I’d be able to finish one on my own. Unless you want your own?” you looked at Ryan expectantly.

“No,” he responded quickly, “I’m perfectly fine with sharing.”

“I’m sure you are,” Brendon muttered into the straw of his Coke.

“It’s fine,” you turned to smile at Siba, who returned your smile with a nod.

“Alright, then. May I take your food orders?”

You all placed your orders and your waitress once again scribbled them down and hurried off to the kitchen.

The topic of movies resumed and everyone got to chatting about their favourites and what they would recommend in each genre. Spencer was currently giving a very detailed criticism of a horror movie he’d seen recently, and everyone was listening intently.

Keeping your eyes trained on the drummer, you started moving your mouth to one of the straws in your milkshake so that you could take a sip. Clearly Ryan had the same idea because as you turned your head to take a sip from the drink, you bumped noses with him.

Both of you scrunched up your faces and recoiled instinctively, shocked by the unexpected physical contact.

“Sorry,” he apologised, looking at you timidly.

“It’s okay,” you giggled, “It was my fault too.”

“My god,” Brendon murmured, just loud enough for (Y/B/F) to hear, “They’re fucking adorable.”

She nodded in agreement. “They need to be stopped.”

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Taglist:

@darknessdancing @raversam