7/9/2005

I don't own The O.C.

A/N- Hey guys! Your reviews are AMAZING, thank you so much. This chapter is pretty long, I truly hope you enjoy it. I'm thinking the next one might be the last, but I'm working on another fic which will be posted after this one gets wrapped up.

His reflection that night was alarmingly similar to the first time he had stood in front of the tall, glossy mirror. The suit carried the familiar clean scent, pressed neatly into its delicate seams. He hiked the collar up on his neck and began to fumble with his tie when his eyes caught the whole of his image. The contours of his jaw remained tight and firm, leading to his thin, concentrated lips. Ryan forced eye contact with his reflection, noticing the heavy burden pressed into the blue irises. They were full of hidden knowledge he refused to share with the world. With no one but her.

After two years in Newport, he had learned to let down his guard down and treed in vulnerable waters. Now, he was resorting to the silent intellect he had worn during his first few nights in the town. The shield of protection had gradually eroded as he began to spend more time with her. But that was in the past now. He was allowing himself to relapse into a time before he had met Marissa Cooper. Before their lives had collided. Before he had known what love was.

Ryan considered the length of his tie, adjusting it so the thicker part hung to his belt buckle. He glanced once more in the mirror, considering the prospect of shaving the slight shadow that had formed along his face. It was alarming how his appearance could shift from a carefree youth to a burdened soul within a few days. If someone had asked him, he would relate his unconcerned nature to the glossy lust filled Newport Beach, and his matured cynicism to the grimy city of Chino. Now, the comparison of life with Marissa Cooper verses life without her seemed more fitting.

The tie had finally fallen into place, hugging the white collar tightly to his neck. He had never quite gotten used to the nagging pressure that fastened around his throat, even after the countless parties and charities events he'd been forced to against his will. And for some reason, Ryan felt this one was going to be a bit more painful than sitting through one of the Newport's typical social galas.

He closed the collapse of his wristwatch and checked the time. The party started in half an hour, which meant Seth should be barging in on him any minute. Glancing through the glass doors, he assured that no one would interrupt the last moments of his privacy. When he saw nothing but the stagnant pool outside, Ryan opened the top drawer of his nightstand. It was almost completely empty despite a few thin paperbacks and mixed CDs. But the most noticeable item amongst the others was a small, velvet pouch resting innocently against the wooden texture. Ryan pulled it out and thumbed the material gently before dropping it deep into the pocket of his pants.

XXXX

Marissa tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and continued to force a smile. She was being targeted by one of the chief Newpsies, a slender redhead named Stephanie. The woman was ranting endlessly about the fine wine produced in Napa Valley, while Marissa seemed more concentrated on the whiteness of her teeth. She couldn't figure out how this lady managed to keep such a wide grin plastered on her face with such enthusiasm, all the while baring dental structures of the most horrifically artificial white she had ever seen. She also wondered how much it must have cost her husband to buy her the new, collagen injected set of lips that pillowed the deep white fangs.

"And if anything, you must go to the Chateau Potelle. You have to schedule an appointment to tour the winery, but it's just to die for."

Marissa nodded slightly and tore her eyes off of the lady's bubbling mouth, only to have them involuntarily land on her nose. She could swear that it resembled Michael Jackson's in one of his earlier phases of surgery, before it looked completely like an inserted chicken bone. The thought of Stephanie going in for one more round and coming out with a patch of cartilage missing from the tip of her nose scared her. The thought of Stephanie looking in the mirror afterwards and feeling prettier than before the surgery scared her even more.

Before she could find obvious botox injections planted in her cheeks, Marissa's eyes caught onto someone much more flattering to look at. She sighed with relief as he walked off to her, amusement dancing across his face. Out of politeness, Marissa turned back to the lady and pretended to listen intently for the last few seconds of her continuous rant. But out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ryan edging closer, eventually making his way to her side. He prodded her elbow gently and stepped forward, making his presence visible.

"Can I borrow her for a second?" he asked.

The phony woman smiled in consent and watched as the two walked briskly away. Once they had rounded on the back entrance, Marissa checked to see if they were in audible distance of anyone. Confirming the negative, she sighed heavily and eyed Ryan with relief.

"Thanks for rescuing me from the spawn of Chuckie over there."

He smiled sweetly and looked out to the tempting yard, promising solitude and peace of mind.

"Need a break?"

Marissa nodded enthusiastically and followed him down the steps into the darkening night. They stood side by side, his hands fetched deep into his pockets, her hands grabbing the flesh of her arms. The sleeve of his clean collared shirt brushed her side, sending a spell of urgency through her body. They found a large tree a few feet from their signature wooden bench. It was where he had first wrapped a jacket around her trembling shoulders; where he had danced with her last.

They were hooded underneath the constellation of leaves, permitting the streaming light from the moon to seep through uncovered sky. Marissa leaned against the harsh bark and breathed in its mint smell. The soft jazz was streaming from inside the ball room, sending a faraway fantasy to her mind.

"So, I have something for you," he began.

The split second he spent fumbling in his pocket allowed for her suspense to grow, and her heart jolted when she saw the black velvet pouch. Slowly, Ryan pulled out a golden chain from inside, revealing a pendant of shining pendant in the shape of the moon. Her mouth hung slightly opened without a single utterance, and her eyes were fixed on its sparkling reflection.

"It just reminded me of you, so" he remarked humbly.

Her voice was staggered as she commented on its beauty as she watched Ryan step behind her, concentration narrowing his eyes. The thin crescent fell onto her while his fingers collapsed the necklace together, working softly against her back. He took a tentative step away after the prolong moment ceased and his hands moved out from under her fallen hair.

Marissa turned around to find him standing on a thick patch of grass by the tree's roots. His face was painted with anticipation of her reaction, hopefulness lighting his eyes. But for the first time in awhile, she couldn't find accurate words to express her emotions. Instead, she came closer to his anxious body and place a slight, tender kiss on his bottom lip.

"So you like it?" he asked with concern.

She laughed breathily and caught his lips again, this time eliciting a small response. The timid kisses grew as they cornered their bodies against the thin bark. Marissa rested her hands on his shoulders, moving her mouth passionately in his. She waited for his fingers to rest gingerly on her waist, a sign of his affection and desire. After she felt a quick, stroking touch on the side of her thigh, Marissa became sure of the satisfaction she was bringing him. Her hands made their way underneath his tie, and hastily undid the middle of his shirt, sneaking over the white, defining tank top. She explored the regions over the material with a steadfast hunger, and at the same time felt his mouth work diligently across hers. His arms lay still by his sides, allowing him to enjoy the sensation of her hands caressing his body. As the moment grew, he found himself pleasing her through nothing but his mouth.

"Marissa!" a voice shrieked from the steps of the ballroom.

The two stopped abruptly and turned around, their bodies still only inches apart.

"Get back in there! This party is for you!"

"No, mom," she began heatedly. "This party's for you."

Julie sighed in unworldly protest, a cross look shielding her eyes. She took a hesitant step forwards, gripping tightly to the rusted railing.

"Shelly Long wants to see you. So I suggest that you find your way back through that door, or suffer the consequences."

"What consequences?" she interrogated. "How could you possible manage to make my life any worse?"

Julie knew too well not to try to respond, because she couldn't possibly come up with anything to say. Instead, she shot them one more fuming glare and turned around, strutting proudly back to the social façade that awaited her return.

The interrupted solitude had come again, but their momentum of passion had been destroyed. Ryan inhaled quickly and fixed his shirt, noticing a fairly embarrassed Marissa looking to the mossy ground. He smiled with the intentions of easing her sudden shyness, and stuck out his hand to hers. Marissa noticed his fingers drumming softly against the side of her hand, and she brought her palm into his. They walked back to the wide staircase as if they had all the time in the world, feeling each uneven step underneath their feet. As the scene of her farewell party ambushed their sore eyes, Ryan let go of her hand and wrapped his own across her waist. He hugged her close to his side while they walked into the chandelier lit area, only to be confronted by an overeager guest.

"Marissa!" she squealed. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks, so do you."

"Please, I could never have the kind of body you do. Even if I was twenty years younger. Cardio bar hasn't worked and I gained back all the weight I lost on the zone, so…"

It was obvious that the aging lady was attempting to act like Marissa's contemporary, much like the rest of her mother's friends. Having received nothing but a feigned smile in response, she quickly changed the subject.

"And who is this handsome man next to you?"

"Oh, this is my boyfriend. Ryan."

A look of pride crept onto Marissa's face and became apparent in her voice as she spoke.

"Of course," she began smugly. "Aren't you the one who burned down Caleb Nichol's model home? God bless his deceased soul" she added solely for effect. When Ryan failed to respond, however, she answered for him.

"I'd hate to have that on my record."

"So, Mrs. Long…" Marissa started to question her out of spite for speaking down to Ryan.

"Please, call me Shelly."

"Shelly." She corrected herself. "Has Mr. Long returned from the Philippines yet?"

The woman's face muscles tightened as she swallowed obscenely. It was common knowledge in Newport that Shelly's husband had run off with the exotic housekeeper about a month prior. She had tried to convince the meddlesome town that the young lady had gotten deported and her husband was stuck overseas on business. But the truth quickly seeped out, even to the young, hustling teens of Orange County.

"No, Marissa. Not yet."

"Well I'm sure he'll be back soon," she comforted.

Shelly smiled, but the blatant dismay that had taken over her face told Marissa that she no longer wanted to talk. Which was perfectly fine on both parts. After excusing herself to go "powder her nose," Marissa moved away from the horribly disengaging conversation. She pulled Ryan's arm off her waist and clung to it heavily, making an uninterrupted trip to the shadowed corner of the ballroom.

"How much longer?" she sighed.

"About another hour. Want something to drink?"

"Yeah, I could use some Gin and Tonic about now."

Immediately after she spoke the words, Ryan's face transformed into a look of alarm and concern. He stared at her, frightened.

"Kidding!" she laughed.

A relieving sigh faintly escaped his mouth, but it was obvious that he was still scared for her. He knew her too well to believe that she really was kidding. In her current situation, he was fully aware that she was overly tempted to sneak away in the corner and waste herself away. It was something he had been anxious about ever since they found out she was moving, and was one of the reasons why he hadn't left her side.

"Right."

He smiled slightly and walked to the open bar, a feeling of nervousness jolting through his stomach. Leaving her alone created an uneasiness of the depressed feeling that his presence kept away. Sometimes it pained him to think he was the only reason she was still living sanely and staying afloat.

Ryan shook the thoughts out of his mind and made his way to the front of the counter, ordering two non-alcoholic drinks. If Marissa was going to stop drinking, he would do it with her. Still, he couldn't help but feel a slight temptation for the Seven and Seven resting innocently on a near by cocktail napkin. Ryan's eyes followed the bubbling whiskey as it made its way from a set of long prune like fingers to a narrowed pair of dark plum lips.

Julie Cooper drank Seven and Sevens.

The carbonation pricked her tongue, and she was on the verge of relishing the settling taste when the pair of eyes fell on her. Suddenly, like a thief being caught red handed, she turned her head to the incriminating witness.

"Ryan…" her sharp tone rang of surprise.

"Riverside special?" he asked flatly, staring at the soda tap in front of him.

"No. That would be two Jello shots followed immediately by an ounce of rum," she replied honestly.

Ryan briefly made eye contact with her before turning back to the bar. She did have a sense of humor when she wanted to.

"What would cause you to order a drink like that at your own party?"

"I like the way it tastes, Ryan. Nothing more."

Her villainous tone almost made him break out into a small fit pathetic laughter. Without any hesitation, he turned to her, an amused smile playing across his face.

"Wasn't there a time when you actually liked me?" he asked.

"Yes. When my daughter was hooking up with the yard boy to get back at me."

Ryan's face fell. He had a feeling this wasn't turning into the lighthearted tease of a conversation that he had expected.

"Let's face it Ryan. You were the only person this year that Marissa didn't use to spite me. That, is, until now."

"What does that mean?"

"Do you really think that Marissa is happy with you? It's a wonder she can bare to look at you after what she did."

Ryan swallowed visibly at the reference to Trey. He stared straight through her eyes, refusing the dagger-like intimidation that attempted to break him.

"I love your daughter," he asserted.

"I know. Which is impressive, Ryan. I never knew someone could be so in love that they'd actually date the murderer of their brother."

After she spoke the words, her eyes began to quiver in self consciousness. She realized how harsh they been, but even so the cruelty was familiar. By this point in her life, after using a brutal approach in every rough situation, Julie Cooper had become immune to social tact. It wasn't until after the words escaped her mouth that they realized what a large impact they had.

"I've gotta go," Ryan stammered shakily.

He walked past her, letting his feet sweep briskly across the long tile span to the door. His mind was clouded with a bitter confusion that had left him a week ago. She was the murderer of his brother. As Ryan reached the stone steps in front of the building, his rampant breathing began to slow down. He began to feel petrified, haunted. It showed in his nervous eyes, scanning the parking lot for his only means of escape. He spotted the large black Range Rover and ran to it hurriedly, thrusting the keys into the side of the door. With one last look at the busy party, Ryan jumped into the front seat and drove off. There was only one place he could think to go. The car rolled over the freshly laid concrete and onto the narrow back roads, leaving behind the phoniness of Newport Beach.

XXX

Marissa's face rung heavily with disgust as her mother turned towards her. She had gone to see if Ryan was okay with the drinks, only to find him running away at Julie's words. They hurt her to hear, but they would destroy him. The topic of Trey's death struck an unstable nerve inside of Ryan. It probably always would. Now he was gone and she was alone, all to the credit of Julie Cooper.

"Marissa…" her mother spoke with obvious surprise.

"How could you say that?" she managed in a low breaking voice.

No answer came. And Marissa didn't expect one, because there wasn't a single coherent response that would dull her anger. The only response her mother could muster was a hard, self conscious swallow.

"Why would you do that to him?"

Her voice was pleading, torturing the string of guilt that ran through Julie's mind.

Desperate to reconcile the grief that had cast over her daughter's face, Julie grabbed the trembling set of hands and held them close to her, stroking the clammy texture with her thumbs. From a distance it looked like a mother bonding heartily with her offspring. From the right angle however, it looked like a failed attempt to sew together the pieces of a broken relationship. Julie returned to the conversation with a thought less about herself and more about her daughter.

"I know what I said was wrong. But he left Marissa. Doesn't that tell you enough already?"

"He left because you drove him out of here!"

She paused, letting the sharpness of the last words echo in her mother's brain and her own. After collecting a deep breath, she smacked her lips together and formed the biting thought that would soon be withdrawn from her mouth. Once composed, she began to speak.

"You know what the worst part is?" she asked, watching the saddened look of defeat cross over her mother's eyes. When no response came to the rhetorical question, Marissa dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper. The sincere despair vibrated through each heavy syllable as she spoke the very words-

"You're driving me away too."

For a few seconds, the impact this had was too strong for a wordy protest to crush. Instead, Julie looked absently to the floor, where sharp heels could be heard bouncing from table to table. She regained her composure, bringing the sense of objective back to the front of her mind. Facing her daughter once again, the words surfaced in a low, tentative voice.

"You can think that, Marissa. But you'll see, this family is the most precious thing you have."

"Yeah well, that's too bad."

"What do you mean?" Julie questioned.

"I guess I'm losing our precious family. Because, I'm not moving."

It was stubborn, and she knew her mom would find it laughable. The greatest reaction that Marissa expected to receive was a generous overflow of aggravation, but nothing more. And unfortunately, the first response was quite along the lines she had expected. Unbelieving and humored.

"Right. Well, we'll see how you manage that. As an 17-year-old girl with nowhere to go and no power."

By this point, Marissa was bubbling with anger. She had toyed with the idea before, but now it was a confirmation that seemed realer than a hopeless wish.

"That's not true. I can file an emancipation case."

"You'd never."

Marissa swallowed noticeably, a sign of the courage she tried not to choke over. Her pained face told of the answer that Julie didn't want to hear. If she couldn't stay in Newport under the will of her parents, Marissa would fight to break free from their restrain. No mother wanted to admit that their child would deliberately split the bond of their family, no matter how dysfunctional they were. Worse was knowing their child had reason to leave. They matched tearful gazes, remorse echoing both sides of the wrenching stare.

"I wish we hadn't become this," Marissa thought to herself.

Julie stepped forward, embarrassed by the rippling texture of her saddened voice.

"How did we become this?" she asked.

"I…don't know."

A small part of Marissa wanted it to be day outside. The lazy sun would melt over the wooden boards that lined the stores of the pier, and she would link her arm through the sophisticated one next to her. They would window shop with a desire for something more than a new pair of Armani sunglasses. They would be buying aimless time together, bringing back affection that only a mother and daughter could share.

A small part of Marissa wanted it to be day outside, when she could remold a bond with her mother under a care free, feather blue sky. A larger part of her felt the urgency in her boyfriend's absence, his shaky mind fumbling through stretches of the diamond lit night.

Her skin absorbed the single tear that fell crookedly down her face, and she turned away from the life she knew.