ext_1509 (
thepouncer.livejournal.com) wrote in
crack_van2004-05-04 06:19 pm
This Road Before by MollyTM (R)
Fandom: THE O.C.
Pairing: None, really, although there are shades of Ryan/Marissa and Ryan/Theresa
Author on LJ:
torchthisnow
Author Website: Riders on the Storm
Why this must be read: Because this story gets inside Ryan’s brain after he lost it in the student rec center and beat up Oliver. Set immediately post-“The Rivals”, Ryan can’t handle his emotions and he runs. It’s written in second person, and beautifully conveys the confusion Ryan must feel, isolated and alone and knowing he’s really screwed up. There’s not a false note in this one.
An excerpt:
You’re not scared. You’re still pissed. You’re still pumped way too full of adrenaline. You could have whaled on Oliver for hours until his face couldn’t have been called a face anymore. Just a wet, pulpy mass of purple-red Play Dough and shards of bone and teeth.
So you have to move. You’re burning and itching and squirming under your skin, and if you don’t run, you’re going to fly into pieces.
It’s almost a shame you’re not on a soccer field, because right now, you don’t think even Beckham could touch you.
If you stay, you’ll have to talk. There’ll be phone calls and explanations and yelling and analyzing and endless rehashing, over and over, but through it all, nobody’s going to believe a single word you say.
You’d rather work it through in your own head first. That’s how you do things.
Everyone talks too much in Newport, anyway.
This Road Before
Pairing: None, really, although there are shades of Ryan/Marissa and Ryan/Theresa
Author on LJ:
Author Website: Riders on the Storm
Why this must be read: Because this story gets inside Ryan’s brain after he lost it in the student rec center and beat up Oliver. Set immediately post-“The Rivals”, Ryan can’t handle his emotions and he runs. It’s written in second person, and beautifully conveys the confusion Ryan must feel, isolated and alone and knowing he’s really screwed up. There’s not a false note in this one.
An excerpt:
You’re not scared. You’re still pissed. You’re still pumped way too full of adrenaline. You could have whaled on Oliver for hours until his face couldn’t have been called a face anymore. Just a wet, pulpy mass of purple-red Play Dough and shards of bone and teeth.
So you have to move. You’re burning and itching and squirming under your skin, and if you don’t run, you’re going to fly into pieces.
It’s almost a shame you’re not on a soccer field, because right now, you don’t think even Beckham could touch you.
If you stay, you’ll have to talk. There’ll be phone calls and explanations and yelling and analyzing and endless rehashing, over and over, but through it all, nobody’s going to believe a single word you say.
You’d rather work it through in your own head first. That’s how you do things.
Everyone talks too much in Newport, anyway.
This Road Before
