Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
This story was originally for a ficathon at the Fraternizing community on LJ. My prompt was this: The most outrageous lies that can be invented will find believers if a man only tells them with all his might. -- Mark Twain
Author's Chapter Notes:
Extra special gooey thanks to my betas, angryhaiku and kyrafic. This story would not be what it is without their help.
Spoilers up through "The Job."
1.
Ryan Howard had always known there was something different about him. He just didn't look at people the same way everyone else did. He had lived a regular childhood in a regular school with regular kids in Newark. His dad worked for an investment firm, and his mother was a stay-at-home-mom. His mother (the Jewish half of their family) made him go to the synagogue with them on Saturdays and he spent Tuesdays and Thursdays in Hebrew school with the other Jewish children that lived in Newark. His dad was a lapsed Catholic, so on Sundays, Ryan's mom would make pancakes and French toast, and they'd be especially liberal with the real maple syrup that they only were allowed to eat on Sundays.
Living in his regular household, he stuck out from the rest of his family. While his older brother was outside playing flag football or baseball with the neighborhood kids, and his younger sister was at the mall shopping (or hanging out with her numerous friends), Ryan was holed up in his bedroom, secretly hoarding his mom's romance novels (there wasn't really any other source of sex material around the house). He'd use his binoculars (an eighth-grade graduation present) to spy on the new neighbors that moved in next door. Mr. Henderson apparently enjoying strutting around his bedroom wearing only briefs. A lot.
Ryan would peek through the shades into Mr. Henderson's bedroom, zooming in to get a better look at the large bulge that protruded from his briefs. Ryan would then glance down at himself, wondering if he'd ever have a bulge that large.
It was usually around that time that he'd become aroused, and would reach down to start stroking himself. Because it was too difficult to try to hold the binoculars and masturbate at the same time, he'd usually put them down and let fantasy take over. He often imagined tall, muscular Mr. Henderson coming over, into his room, stepping out of those super-tight, white briefs and revealing exactly what that bulge suggested.
It usually wasn't long after the underwear came off that Ryan got there. Reaching across to the bookshelf (where he conveniently kept a box of tissues), he cleaned himself up, imagining it was Mr. Henderson leaning over him, slowly swiping the tissue across his dick.
Five minutes later, he was at it again.
2.
By the time he got to college, he realized that he wasn't the only one who had these kinds of thoughts. He pledged for a frat his freshman year, and because of his willingness to do anything, he quickly got in. The Head Brother in the fraternity immediately grew a liking to Ryan and let him be his protégé for the year. He had a lot of duties, including getting Mike all his food and drinks, carrying his books for him, and on selected nights, giving Mike blowjobs in his room. Ryan was a little shocked when Mike had first insinuated that it was Ryan's "frat-brotherly duty" to go down on him. He was shocked, but secretly thrilled. He'd never kissed a guy before, let alone gone down on one.
Mike always sat back on the bed while Ryan blew him and simultaneously touched himself. Mike never touched Ryan, nor would he allow Ryan to tell anyone else about what they did. A couple times, Mike brought other high-ranking brothers into his room (usually during parties after they'd had a lot of beer and some coke) and he had Ryan blow them as well. One time, one of the brothers (Jason) offered to go down on Ryan, but Mike waved him off. "He likes doing it," Mike said. "Right, Ryan?" Ryan would just nod and keep going.
For a long time, Ryan felt like that was the way it worked. He wasn't really gay; he was just blowing guys for respect, in the frat. It's what new recruits did.
It was about this time that he started picking up girls at parties. He found himself demanding blowjobs from drunken girls he brought home. The first time he had sex, he couldn't come until he imagined Mike, going down on him, hard -- and fast. He kept his eyes closed until he heard the girl (he didn't even know her name) groan, "Ugh. Get off me."
By junior year, he was rising in the ranks in the frat, introducing a mixture of guys and girls into his room. He slept with the girls to convince himself he wasn't totally gay; after all, he certainly couldn't bring a guy home to his parents. While he enjoyed some things about girls -- like their boobs -- or the fact that he was usually taller than the girls he brought home, he really wasn't all that into them, with their gossip and pettiness and emotional ways. He liked the cold, pragmatic nature of the encounters he had with men. It wasn't about cuddling and love and lifetime commitment: it was sex, desire, need, done.
By the beginning of senior year, he was dating a girl named Melissa, full-time. She was well endowed, gorgeous, and always wanted to talk about "their future." Their three-month anniversary coincided with Parents' Weekend. He broke up with her two weeks later.
3.
Ryan really didn't know how he ended up in Scranton, Pennsylvania, one year after graduating college.
Okay, honestly -- it had to do with a guy named Isaac, whom he'd met on a weekend trip to Philadelphia while visiting some other friends. They'd hit it off, and Ryan found out he was attending the University of Scranton, so ...
Really, Ryan didn't have any other plans, and living with his parents again was becoming a nightmare. He wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of Newark.
Isaac was the first guy he found that he actually enjoyed hanging out with, outside of the sex, that was. He was attractive, funny, and about the same height as Ryan. They shared a lot of the same interests, and the sex? Well, that was pretty great as well. It was the first time in his life where Ryan actually felt happy with someone.
Of course, Isaac unceremoniously dumped him two months later, leaving Ryan alone and working at a crappy car dealership in Scranton doing tax and title paperwork. Dissatisfied with himself, Ryan ended up at a temp agency the following Monday, who offered him a temporary position at a local paper company. "It's in a professional office, so you'll have to wear a shirt-and-tie," his job advisor said, nodding her head towards Ryan's blue polo shirt.
"That's not a problem," he said. He had about four "interview" suits sitting in his closet that he hadn't worn at all, so at least those would be put to good use.
"The position is kind of undefined," she went on, fading off into the background as he studied her desk, then her features. She had a nameplate that said, "Naomi Willard, Career Specialist" and was wearing a striped silk shirt with puffy sleeves that made her look like a sideshow act. Her eyebrows were plucked too thin, and her face was round and full, like she'd been working at a desk job too long. He imagined she was pretty once.
That suddenly made him sad. Was that what he was going to become? The bloated guy sitting at a desk with a lack of fashion sense, blathering on about "undefined work"?
He frowned just as Naomi said, "So -- what do you think?"
"I'll take the job," he said.
4.
It only took about three days before Ryan realized that Michael Scott, his boss at Dunder-Mifflin, had some kind of weird straight-man crush on him. Ryan really didn't believe that Michael was gay -- or even bi. He was just weird. And for whatever reason, Michael liked Ryan. A lot.
Normally, this might flatter Ryan, but this was Michael. He'd only been there three days, and he already knew this was not something to get excited about.
As far as eye-candy went, the Scranton office was pretty threadbare. The only guy in the office who was even somewhat attractive was Jim Halpert, one of the salesmen, and Ryan still didn't find him that attractive. He was too disheveled -- his hair always looking like he just woke up, his clothes too big for him, and those stupid rolled-up sleeves... Jim obviously didn't take the job seriously.
(Not like Ryan did, either, but seriously -- there was slacking, and then there was slacking.)
Girl-wise, there was Pam the receptionist. She was cute, but could probably be cuter if she didn't pull her hair halfway up like the girls used to do back in fifth grade. Plus -- her granny cardigans. What was up with that? It wasn't nearly as bad as Meredith's craft-show sweaters, but still. There was that Indian girl, Kelly, who worked in the back -- she seemed to be the most professional (and best-dressed) out of the lot, but she never said much. Ryan couldn't get a read on her personality.
5.
There was only one reason Ryan went out on that Monday night in February. His friends were still in town (they were staying through Wednesday - thus guaranteeing himself a girl-free Valentine's Day) and they wanted to go out. They'd gone out the past two nights in a row, so what was another night of heavy drinking? If Ryan were lucky, maybe Jason would come back into his room again and mess around. (Jason said he didn't "do that anymore," but Ryan knew better than that. A few beers and some Irish Car Bombs would change his mind, Ryan thought.)
At the bar, Ryan bumped into Kelly and one of her friends. Naturally, one of his buddies thought Kelly's friend was hot, and wanted to be introduced.
That was the first time Ryan ever heard Kelly talk. Like -- really talk. And oh my God, could that girl talk.
Later that night (and too many shots later), they were making out in the corner booth, and -- oh, she knew just where to touch him. She was too drunk to drive home, and he really was, too, but he only lived a few blocks away, so they went to his place.
When he woke up that morning, she was gone, but she'd left a note on his kitchen table:
Ryan --
Thanks for everything! You're a really good kisser! I'll see you at work today!!!!
Love, Kelly
Next to that, she'd drawn a series of hearts and lips. The dots above her "i's" were circles. Uh oh, he thought. That was never a good sign.
He realized he never should have told Jim that he was "kind of" interested in her. It's just that it got so lonely in Scranton, and when his friends weren't around, he wished he had something. (Jim was obviously out -- his heart was all wrapped around the receptionist. What a pathetic affair that was.)
It wasn't until later that day that he realized he had hooked up with Kelly on February 13th. Oh, God.
6.
"Hey, man..." Jim looked guilty as he sauntered into the break room one afternoon in early March; his shoulders slumped over.
"What's up?" Ryan asked, as Jim sat down across from him.
"Well, I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it," Jim said.
Ryan waited patiently for a few seconds and looked at Jim expectantly. Whatever it was, it couldn't be that big of a deal. He knew Jim always overdramatized things (usually for Pam's benefit), but still.
"I made out with Kelly on Valentine's Day," he said, all in a rush. Before Ryan could answer, he continued: "I mean, she told me not to tell you, but it kept weighing on my mind, and, you know, she told me you guys had only messed around, or something, and that you weren't really dating, but still, you know, since you guys got together after that, I felt really bad, and, you know --"
Ryan quickly started shaking his head. "Oh, no, no, no -- it's really -- I mean, we weren't together, then. It's just --"
"And, you know, Kelly seemed kind of upset," Jim went on, as if Ryan hadn't said anything, "and I just felt bad, and, you know, one thing led to another--"
"Yeah, I know," Ryan said quietly. That was exactly how he and Kelly had gotten together. One thing had sort of led to another.
"Well, anyway, I just thought you should know, so --"
"You guys haven't hooked up since then?" Ryan asked suddenly. It was strange, he hadn't expected to feel jealous, but all of a sudden, he felt it. Something about Kelly running her hands all over Jim's body made him angry. He wasn't sure if he was more jealous of Kelly, or Jim. This is pretty fucked up, he thought to himself.
"Oh, no, no," Jim replied immediately. "She's not really, uh -- I mean, no ... man, we haven't. That was the only time."
"Yeah," Ryan said, not looking at him. He realized that if he looked at Jim, he might start thinking about Kelly and Jim again, and -- Damn it. Ryan cleared his throat. "Hey, can you excuse me for a minute?" he asked.
Jim nodded.
Ryan headed off to the bathroom.
7.
Ryan spent a lot of time in the Dunder-Mifflin bathroom. He went there when Michael got too annoying, or Kelly got too clingy. He went there when Jim stood up and he could see the outline of Jim's dick through his cheap dress slacks. And sometimes he'd just go in there with last December's Playgirl magazine that he'd stolen from Kelly's bedroom. Just because.
It happened to be one of those just because days that Jim happened to walk into the bathroom just as Ryan was trying to shut the stupid stall door that had been broken for the past three months. He hadn't meant to choose that stall -- or had he?
Ryan wasn't really sure, but that day, Jim happened to walk through the door right as Ryan was reaching for the stall door; his dick in his hand and a magazine in his lap. The moment stretched out as Jim stopped in his tracks, staring at Ryan's face, then his crotch, then the magazine, then, suddenly, the floor.
"Oh, fuck," he heard Jim mutter under his breath. "I'm -- uh, sorry."
Ryan heard Jim's voice crack as he said it, and despite himself, he looked up at Jim, whose face looked tired. Sad. He realized Jim probably wasn't coming into the bathroom to just take a piss. Damn it, Ryan thought. Of all the times to be caught.
"Uh, no, I'm sorry, I mean -- don't -- worry about it, yeah." Ryan quickly slammed the stall door shut, folding up the magazine.
"I'll, uh -- I'll come back in a second," Jim said. Ryan heard him starting to step back.
"No, wait," he said suddenly. Ryan stood up, flushing the toilet in a show of motion, and stuffed the magazine half down his pants. Just enough so Jim couldn't really see what he had been looking at. Ryan wondered exactly how much he'd seen.
Jim cleared his throat, and turned on a faucet. When Ryan came out, he was splashing water on his face. Ryan stepped up to the sink next to his. He started washing his hands (they weren't dirty -- yet) and turned to Jim.
"You okay, Halpert?" Ryan asked.
"Oh, yeah -- yeah, I mean, I didn't really see anything," Jim said, giving him a half-smile and quickly looking away.
Ryan couldn't help but smirk. The guy was such a girl, but he was pretty damn cute. And tall. And ... Crap, Howard, stop thinking about this shit. You just got caught jacking off. The last thing you want this guy to think is that you're into him. Right?
"That's, uh, not really what I meant," Ryan said plainly. He didn't want Jim to think this was about Ryan getting caught. "I mean, you just look like, I don't know -- something. Uh. Did something happen?"
Jim sighed, drying off his hands. He leaned up against the counter and rolled his head back. That's right, Ryan thought. He knew Jim would come around. He always did. He was just ... like that.
"I don't know," Jim said. "I just feel like -- what am I doing here? Michael and Dwight and I were in the conference room, and Michael was reading this list of pranks that I pulled on Dwight and, I don't know, at first, they were really funny, but then, it just sort of got, like -- tedious, y'know? Like, unnecessarily mean, I guess."
"Well, you are kind of mean to Dwight," Ryan said. "I mean, I agree he's kind of an idiot, but that's the thing. He's an idiot. He can't help himself." Ryan paused for a second. "You can."
"I know," Jim sighed again. "But, I just -- I mean. I don't know." Jim shook his head. "I don't know."
Ryan wasn't sure exactly what made him do it, but he reached up then, grabbing Jim's face with both hands, and kissed him. Something in him just had to know what it felt like. And something in him just wanted to make Jim feel better. (Kind of like when he cuddled with Kelly for a few minutes after sex.)
At first, Jim made a surprised noise that Ryan could feel under his lips, but a few seconds passed and he felt Jim start to respond, his arms wrapping around Ryan's back, his crotch pressing into Ryan's pelvis -- oh God, it felt huge, and -- damn. Ryan felt himself starting to get aroused again as he slipped his tongue into Jim's mouth. Jim tasted like sour coffee and something sweet -- maybe jellybeans? He was always stealing those damn things off Pam's desk.
As if the thought was spoken, Jim suddenly broke away.
Damn, Ryan thought. He licked his lips, slowly stuffing his hands into his pockets. He gave Jim one of those sheepish looks Jim was always giving the cameras, but couldn't keep it up for more than a few seconds. A sly smile slid onto his lips.
"I, uh..." Jim started, but stopped when he realized he had nothing to say. He slipped out of the bathroom without another word to Ryan.
8.
Jim didn't really talk to Ryan after that happened, like he was avoiding him. The only other time he really said anything was when they were at that casino fundraiser and Jim made some smart-ass comment about him still being with Kelly. And all of a sudden, Ryan just wanted to punch Jim in the face, because, really -- was it any of his business who Ryan chose to date?
Not that he really wanted to be dating Kelly, but he knew dating girls was the acceptable thing to do, because it would forestall his parents and friends and everyone from realizing he actually preferred guys. Still, he wasn't actually interested in dating men. That's what women were for. He wanted to fuck men. And occasionally, he did do that. Sometimes he'd tell Kelly he was taking a weekend trip to see his friends and would end up in a gay bar in Philly, and eventually in some stranger's apartment, fucked up on alcohol and maybe drugs and having sex up against the wall, or against the kitchen counter.
It was the only thing that kept him sane, really.
After a weekend like that, he could come back to Scranton and deal with Kelly and Dunder-Mifflin and his life for at least another three or four weeks before he'd have to get away again.
He was on the cusp of that tolerance -- almost ready to break -- when he ran into Jim at Poor Richard's, of all places. It was a Thursday night. Ryan only went there because there were a couple hot guys on the Men's league that bowled that night. He had Kelly convinced that he was there for $3 Jager-Bomb specials (even though he hated Jagermeister). She was content to sit there and drink watermelon martinis all night, which was fine with him. She usually got drunk enough that she'd do whatever he wanted when they got back to his place. That night, however, Kelly had gone out with some other friends that were in town, leaving him sitting alone at the edge of the bar, staring out into the South Side Bowl.
Jim stepped up to the bar, toting some dark-haired girl behind him. She was pretty, but only in the immediate sense. When you looked at her more closely, a sense of masculinity jumped out from her features. Maybe it was just the fact that she wasn't wearing make-up. Or maybe it was the Yankees hat she had her long hair pulled back through. She had a Yankees t-shirt on as well.
Ryan turned around, interested enough to make a smart-ass comment.
"You're likely to get in trouble wearing that gear around here," Ryan said, extending his hand out towards the girl. She immediately looked at Jim, who finally noticed Ryan and rolled his eyes at her.
"Karen," he said, "this is my -- er, our future coworker, Ryan."
Karen shook hands with him. "Karen Filippelli," she said. "I work -- um, I mean, used to work at the Stamford branch. I guess we start work at your office tomorrow."
That's right, Ryan thought. For a few brief (glorious) moments last week, he'd actually thought that the Scranton branch was being closed down and he'd finally have a way out of Scranton. He could have always continued business school in New York, or Boston, or -- crap, anywhere but here. And he would have gotten away from Kelly, once and for all. But, alas.
Ryan cleared his throat. "Right," he said. "It's uh, nice to meet you." Ryan looked at Jim pointedly and then back at Karen. "So," he said to Jim. "Are you two, uh?"
Jim almost choked on his beer. "Oh, uh -- not exactly, I mean, we're, uh, really good friends, right, Filippelli?"
Ryan was sure he caught the flash of disappointment on her face, right as she said, "Oh, yeah -- definitely."
It was obvious to Ryan, right then, that she'd moved to Scranton for Jim. And in that moment, he just wanted to grab her face and shout, "Run while you can!" because he'd been there before and knew how it ended up. You got stuck in Scranton in a dead-end job and a dead-end relationship with a crazy boss and desires that you'd never really get to meet or truly fulfill. Scranton was, in essence, Hell on earth.
Instead, he said: "Oh, I'm sure you'll love it here."
Ryan noticed the smirk that settled on Jim's face as he glanced in Ryan's direction. Ryan knew as much as Jim did that this Karen girl was just a diversion. He knew exactly what was going on. Which is why he didn't feel guilty about kissing Jim in the bathroom that night.
9.
He didn't find out until six months later that Jim and Karen actually were dating, which led to the embarrassing confession of that e-mail he'd sent Karen. It wasn't even like he wanted to date Karen; he was mostly looking for a way out of the whole Kelly thing still, and Jim was -- well, Jim wouldn't even give him the time of day. He didn't seem to be giving anyone the time of day, Pam included. Ryan actually felt bad for Pam, but not enough to actually do something about it.
After all, that whole thing had nothing to do with him, and really, the last thing he needed to do was to try and get those two train-wrecks together. Jim would just ruin her life, just like Kelly had done to him. She would go nowhere and do nothing and would be a damn receptionist the rest of her life, just like he was starting to think he'd be a no-sale salesman the rest of his life.
When he heard about the job opening at Corporate, he decided, on a long shot, to apply for it. He had just finished school and gotten his MBA that month, and the job description said, "Education: BA, MBA (preferred), or, equivalent professional experience, min 7 years." He figured that meant that even though he only had just over two-and-a-half years with Dunder-Mifflin, he still had the MBA, which stood for something.
To his surprise, he got the job. When David Wallace called to let him know, he told him he'd have an assistant working under him; some kid named Hunter --? The name sounded familiar; was that the guy that Michael was always calling a "mini James Van Der Beek"? If the kid looked anything like James Van Der Beek, that would be okay by him. It would be a lot better than the people he had to work with in Scranton, looks-wise, anyway.
Not to mention: New York City? The idea of finally getting out of Scranton and moving to the city excited him. He was out of his relationship with Kelly. No more excuses. He could go to a gay bar anytime he wanted. He could sleep with men. Or date other women. He'd work with people who didn't think short-sleeve button-down shirts and ties were still an acceptable part of a business suit. He would finally start his life, for real.
On the last day of work, Ryan couldn't help himself. He sent Jim an e-mail:
Halpert,
Just wanted to say that while I'm not sorry you didn't get the job, I think that you were just as (or more) qualified as I am. I'd like to say I'm going to miss you, but...
Ryan paused on that part. He didn't really know what else to say without suggesting something. There was still the off-chance that Michael (or Corporate) was reading their e-mails. Finally, he typed:
I hope you and Pam are happy.
-- Ryan
10.
New York City was the best and worst thing that ever happened to Ryan. It was everything he had imagined, and then some. Still, his apartment was about the size of a walk-in closet, the subway stunk of piss and B.O., no one ever helped you out when you needed directions, and even the food at McDonalds was over-priced. Not to mention all the bullshit he had to deal with that Jan had left behind.
Apparently, she'd fallen behind on her work sometime around six months ago (about the time when she started dating Michael -- coincidentally), and everything -- everything was a mess. It had only gotten worse because of the merger, and now corporate was talking about potentially merging Albany and Buffalo. It was Ryan's job to figure out exactly where they were with their sales figures and productivity and whether it was a matter of actually closing down an entire branch, or just downsizing the two branches to increase profits and productivity.
He came home every night for the first few weeks with a splitting headache. His apartment didn't have air-conditioning, and the windows opened sideways, so he couldn't install a window unit. He bought three fans, but that wasn't enough, and had to haul a portable A/C unit up four flights of stairs in order to bring himself relief.
The only reprieve he'd had from the whole thing was his assistant. At first, Ryan almost felt threatened because the kid just was that cute, in his Johnny Cash black suits and floppy emo-kid hair. The kid was in a band, for Christ's sakes.
Still, Hunter immediately warmed up to him and was nothing but extremely nice and helpful -- even going so far as to explain the little quirks about everyone at the Corporate office, like, how David Wallace really had this weird thing against Kendall, the HR Director. Hunter also had to clear David's cache of animal porn every week. (When Ryan was flabbergasted, Hunter explained: "He pays me a hundred bucks a week to do it.") Then there was Grace, who worked at the front desk. She was married to a guy in the military, but he was overseas now, so she had a live-in boyfriend that came in to bring her out to lunch twice a week. There was Dennis, the controller who worked under David, who secretly had some kind of crush on Jennifer in Marketing, and made out with her once at the Christmas party two years ago, in front of everyone. Jennifer, of course, was dating one of her associates in the Marketing department, but everyone thought she was using him because he had a nice apartment. And it went on. And on.
Ryan realized, then, that New York City wasn't all that different from Scranton: not fundamentally. Everyone still had their problems; they were just slightly different problems. And most of them were related to love. And relationships. And sex.
Ryan also found out that Hunter had no problem flaunting his sexuality. One night, Hunter invited him out to a show at some crappy bar in Brooklyn somewhere. (Ryan still had no idea where everything was, so, one $30 cab ride later...) Hunter, throughout the course of the show, took off his top, then his pants, revealing a tight pair of black boxer briefs. (Did this guy wear anything but black?) He spotted Ryan in the audience, standing up front, off to the side, and called him up onto the stage. "This is my fucking boss, you guys! And he's totally hot, yeah?"
Hunter started to pull up on the t-shirt Ryan was wearing, but Ryan quickly pulled it down, blushing. He hadn't expected this when he came up on stage. This kid had some serious balls. He was just trying to figure out how to quickly slip away when Hunter pulled Ryan towards him and started kissing him, hard. It didn't quite register until he felt Hunter start to force his tongue in his mouth, and Ryan found himself simultaneously turned on and annoyed at the same time. He wasn't anyone's boy toy, he was Hunter's fucking boss, and this just wasn't -- Oh, he thought, as Hunter suddenly grabbed his crotch. No, wait -- damn it. This was wrong.
"Dude," he said, pulling away, "what the fuck?"
"I know you want me, Ryan. Let's fuck after the show."
He was obviously very drunk and who knew what else, Ryan thought. But, still ...
"I don't know," Ryan hissed.
They were still standing up on stage. The drums were beating, the lead guitarist strumming, as everyone in the audience chanted, "Kiss, kiss, kiss!"
Hunter leaned in, and kissed him again, very quickly. "Just think about it," he whispered into Ryan's ear, before turning back to the audience, and holding Ryan's hand up. "My boss, Ryan, everybody! Let's hear it for corporate America!"
The crowd cheered loudly.
11.
Sometime in September, Jim and Pam came to New York. They stopped by the corporate offices on a Friday afternoon, asking Ryan if he wanted to go out for a drink with them. What the hell, he thought, and agreed to meet them at some Irish bar near the office in an hour.
By the time he got there, it was apparent they'd had a few drinks already, because they were hanging all over each other, making out like a couple of school kids. Pam giggled when Ryan slid into the booth across from them, and let go of Jim's face. Ryan stopped himself from rolling his eyes. It was just like he expected it would be. Which was why he was glad he'd invited Hunter to join them as well. Ryan needed a buffer.
Naturally, Jim gave him a look when Hunter sidled into the booth ten minutes later.
"Jim, Pam," Ryan said. "This is my assistant, Hunter."
Hunter reached out and shook their hands, as Jim said, "Yeah, we met -- before."
"Right," Hunter said, smiling slightly. "When you were interviewing for the job." He glanced at Ryan as he said that.
"Yeah," Jim said. "That Ryan got." He nodded at Ryan. "Congratulations, again, by the way. I hear you're doing a really good job."
Ryan shrugged.
"No, seriously!" Pam said, obviously drunk. "I heard Jan didn't do anything! And now all she does is sit around Michael's place and take crazy pills. And sometimes she comes into the office and has sex with Michael. In his office." She gave Jim a look as she said that.
Jim smiled at her. "Yeah," he said. "It's -- uh, pretty crazy. Michael and Jan."
"I know," Ryan said. "Just dealing with Michael is, um, something else."
"Yeah," Jim said.
Pam giggled.
It was obvious none of them wanted to talk about work. Ryan really didn't want to talk about them, either, but he didn't know what else to talk about, so --
"How are things between you two?" he asked. "Finally, huh?"
Pam giggled again. "It's awesome, but shhhh!" she said, putting her finger over Ryan's mouth. "No one in the office knows yet!"
Ryan looked at Jim. "Seriously. Everyone knows. Kelly won't talk to me anymore, but she text-messaged me the week after I left. She said she saw you guys making out during lunch."
"In the office?" Jim asked, looking confused.
"No, at Cugino's," Ryan said. Jim and Pam both immediately looked sheepish. It was sickeningly cute. And Ryan suddenly felt ill. He excused himself from the table.
Jim caught up with him just outside the bathroom. "Dude," he said, grabbing the sleeve of Ryan's shirt. Ryan turned to look at him. Jim licked his lips. "Look, I'm really sorry about how, you know -- everything's turned out, I mean, you know --"
Ryan glanced back towards the bar, where Pam was leaning across the table, laughing at something Hunter was saying. "No, man. I mean -- you're happy?" he asked, truly curious.
Jim glanced back at Pam, and then at Ryan. "Yeah, man."
Ryan nodded slowly. "I'm glad." He paused in front of the bathroom door. "I'm really glad."
"Yeah," Jim said.
12.
Just over three years later, Dunder-Mifflin Paper Company shut down for good. They were too much of a niche company in a market that was demanding increasingly broad business solutions, just as Ryan had predicted in his Corporate Management class over four years ago. He was sad and happy at the same time. His life in New York had been interesting, but just like Scranton, it was getting to be the same old thing, all over again.
A management opportunity had opened up at the corporate location of Office Max, just outside of Chicago.
Ryan had never been to Chicago before.
Maybe it was time for a change. Again.
Chapter End Notes:
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