Sometimes the cameras always following around the staff of the office reminds Ryan of a reality show. More often, they remind him of pornography. Not the kind with real porn stars where everyone looks toned and shiny and happy; the amateur kind. The kind that you watch sometimes but you never end up getting off because you're too busy feeling sorry for the pathetic saps who are a little too flabby and a little too... real and who are trying so hard to look like they're having fun and it's just not quite working. A fun fact about Ryan Howard: He hates pornography. He always feels embarrassed watching it, like he's prying into someone's private life, if someone's private life consisted of constant sexual encounters and hundred-decibel orgasms.

Obviously the documentary the cameras were working to film was nothing like pornography in content, except, according to Phyllis, one time she had run into Angela and Dwight doing something Ryan really didn't even want to visualize, and a cameraman had been with her. But there was that same mood, where everyone (and by everyone, Ryan meant Michael) was pretending to have fun as though wishing could make it happen.

Ryan hates the cameras sometimes. He had taken to doing the most boring things possible, so that the film crew would leave him alone in order to go film Andy singing, or Pam and Jim gushing about how much they loves each other, or Kelly gushing about how much she loved Zac Efron, or whatever it was the camera crew filmed when they were hovering around, waiting for him to screw up again.

Lately, the most boring thing he can think of was re-organizing Michael's rolodex. He had considered spending his time actually teaching Michael how to use his Blackberry, since Pam had programmed it, so that Michael wouldn't actually need the rolodex, but for some reason the cameras were always very interested in any interaction he had with Michael. Probably because Michael could usually be counted on to make a comment that was a-little-more-than-bordering on sexual harassment. Ryan shudders subconsciously and starts flipping through the cards.

He passes through the client cards; he had read all of those on Monday, when he had allergies and his eyes kept watering and he didn't want the cameras to film him and think he was crying. He had organized them by how embarrassing the information on the card that Michael wasn't supposed to mention to the clients was—divorce on the top, followed by adulterous divorce, all the way down to a client whose sister had married a cousin on the bottom.

This time it's the personnel cards. It seems like Michael had made a rolodex card for everyone he had ever met, and there was a whole group of cards detailing the information of all his past and present employees and coworkers. Ryan enjoys reading that, in addition to e-mail address and phone extension, Angela "smells like cat, but don't ask her about them unless you want to be bored to sleep," and Stanley "don't make him angry but he's great on pretzel day." By this time, the cameras were gone. Ryan had heard a crashing sound coming from upstairs in the Dunder Mifflin office, so he figures that was what they were going to check out.

He reaches his card. Unsurprisingly, it has more written on it than most of the others. "Ryan Howard." Then, in different colored pens, crossing out Ryan's previous jobs and replacing them.

"Temp. Sales. Corporate. No longer with DM. Sales." Next of course, came Michael's little notes:

"Smartest guy at DM." was clearly written with the same pen that crossed off "sales" and wrote "corporate;" it wasn't likely that Michael used a hot pink pen on two different occasions.

Then, written with the same dark blue used to pen "sales" for the second time, is this:
"I think he hates himself."

There must be pollen in the room or something, Ryan thought; his allergies were coming back. He considers what Michael had written. Does he hate himself? Ryan is pretty sure the answer was no. But it isn't like he's happy. Then he thinks about it and has to admit, oddly enough, that his job at Michael Scott Paper Company makes him feel better than he has in a long time. But, like every other good thing that has ever happened in his life, he is sure that he won't be happy here soon either.

When Michael's accountant informs them that MSPC is on the verge of failure, Ryan isn't even surprised. Sure, he ran the numbers and everything worked, but he ran the numbers, he was involved, so...

Ryan takes a deep breath but then he just can't take it any more; he has to vent. "Am I just the biggest fucking idiot in the world?" Then he notices. The cameras are rolling. But he can't stop, so he shouts and throws things and Michael lets him, and when it's over, he leans against a wall, feeling defeated. And Michael tells him it's ok, and tries to make things better, but it's half-hearted and he is certain that this is it; even Michael doesn't believe in him anymore. Then Michael gets up from his chair as Ryan slumps on the floor, and Ryan can hear the door closing as Michael leaves the room and leaves Ryan alone.

Ryan hears a cell phone ring but he ignores it. He doesn't think it's his anyway, probably belongs to one of the camera guys, but even if it is, he doesn't want to answer it. He hears footsteps and the door opens and closes again, but he doesn't lift his head from his hands.

Then the footsteps come closer, and Michael sits on the floor facing him. Ryan looks up and the cameras have left the room. Michael shrugs. "I asked Andy to sing something. He wouldn't pass that up. Then I called those guys and told them Andy was singing; they always film it."

"Thanks," Ryan says quietly, feeling grateful.

"Are you ok?" Michael asks.

"I'm awesome," Ryan says, gritting his teeth, preparing for Michael to say something overly optimistic and happy, like he always does.

Michael surprises him by replying quietly. "New York was awesome. Thailand was awesome. Ft. Lauderdale was awesome. And now you're awesome."

"Yeah," Ryan muttered.

"I think there are dictionaries on the internet. Like, whole dictionaries," Michael says, and Ryan almost wants to laugh at how confused he sounds. He really ought to help Michael become a little more web-savvy. Or maybe Pam will do it. "You could look at them on the laptop," Michael continues, "read the actual definition of 'awesome'."

Ryan wonders when Michael became so damn... insightful. He's still wondering when Michael leans forward and gently brushes a strand of Ryan's hair out of his eye. Ryan thinks absentmindedly that he really wants to dye his hair back to brown, that blond was just ridiculous and who was he kidding. He doesn't even stop to consider what Michael is doing until Michael's lips brush against his own.

Michael's lips are soft, and his mouth tastes like cheese puffs. One of his hands puts soft pressure against Ryan's cheek. Ryan forgets for a moment that this is his boss, his male boss, his male boss who has been creepily attracted to him since his first day at work. His male boss who slapped his ass once, and told him he wanted to see him with a hot dog in his mouth once, and who slept in a bed with him once and when Ryan woke up, hung over and smelling like sweat, had an arm around him like a lover. But this time it's gentle and sweet and Ryan allows himself to be taken in by the kiss for a moment before pulling away and staring at Michael, wide-eyed.

"What did you just do?" Ryan asks, frantically. He looks around to see if the cameras had returned. This, he's sure, was something they would love to catch on film, but luckily Andy must still have been performing because they're nowhere in the room.

"I don't want you to hate yourself," Michael says softly. Ryan knows that Michael isn't really as innocent as he appears to be; he was with Jan, for God's sake, she of the massive fake implants and the not-so-secret chain-smoking and the drinking problem; Ryan has a feeling she might be a little kinky as well. He briefly considers whether or not Michael might have been in to Jan's possible kinks, and can't decide whether or not it was something he wanted to think about.

Anyway, he knows Michael's intentions are good. And, for all his faults, Ryan knows that Michael really cares. For all his horrible business decisions, all his failing at social interaction, Ryan knows that caring is one thing Michael really is good at.

It's not love, but it's not porn either, and when Michael leans in again, Ryan leans forward to meet him.