Please be kind if I’m a mess.
Stupendous amounts of booze? Check.
Really fucking good Indian takeaway? Check.
Good mates? Check.
The ability to sleep? Errr, no, which means the likelihood of this making any sense is very small.
The OC
Doing the Hustle
1. The (Reluctant) Hustler
Until Ryan met and got to know Seth, he was justifiably weary of people who talked fast and moved faster. Where Ryan comes from flash and speed are reserved for cars, and people who adopt those traits are only about one thing: the hustle.
It’s one thing to hustle because you have to; it’s something else entirely to do it because you want to.
Ryan’s seen The Hustler; it’s a nice film, but it really has nothing to do with what hustling is all about at its heart: day-to-day life and doing what it takes to get by.
Ryan knows all about getting by when you’re recycling bottles for milk money and hanging out on the corner so that you don’t have to go home.
The hustle has nothing to do with cards or pool, and everything to do with making the best of what you’ve got. It’s about improvising, and Ryan is a jack-of-all trades. He doesn’t need a refrigerator full of food to eat for the week, and he knows how to fix what’s broken without the benefit of a toolbox.
Ryan knows about doing the hustle without being a hustler.
Hustlers enjoy what they do: Donnie was a hustler. So was Trey, and Luke has all the makings of one.
Ryan just does what he has to do.
He doesn’t talk about it; he just gets on with it. He can tell that this makes people nervous, but Ryan doesn’t see anything wrong with living life the way he does.
Everyone does what they have to to get by.
2. The Mark
When Seth says, “Everything’s cool,” he means everything is cool, except for whatever’s not cool. Or everything’s not cool, but he doesn’t want to talk about it.
Seth can say one thing and it will be open to twenty different interpretations, not because he’s Seth, but because that’s how most people are. It’s not Seth’s fault; it’s just how things are, it’s how most people are, but Ryan doesn’t operate like that.
When Ryan says, “Everything’s cool;” he means it.
Ryan won’t say what he doesn’t mean. He knows most people aren’t like that.
He knows most people aren’t like him, period.
Most people talk first, and think second. They will offer the world with one hand and hold a gun in the other. Ryan doesn’t even have the world, so naturally he’s suspicious of everyone else with good reason.
It’s nothing personal, it’s just experience.
Experience is why Ryan wasn’t surprised the first time the Cohens kicked him out, and more than a little surprised the second time they let him stay. Experience told Ryan that he would fuck things up with Marissa, and experience says it’s only a matter of time until the same thing happens with Seth.
It’s not pessimism; it’s just how things are.
Ryan knows what he’s capable of. He doesn’t think the worst of people, he just happens to know what they’re capable of, too.
Everyone as an ulterior motive, and Ryan’s only gotten to where he is because he understands this. His brain moves only slightly slower than a boosted car, and just because he doesn’t talk a lot doesn’t mean he doesn’t think a lot. He prefers to keep things internalized, because that way there’s a lesser chance for things to be misconstrued and misinterpreted.
3. The Con
Ryan doesn’t have friends; he has associates. He has people he knows. It’s not necessarily the way he’s wanted his life to be, but it’s the way things have turned out, and Ryan has adapted better than most. Part of adapting, however, requires learning things through trial and error: Ryan has tried to be friends with people and found out they’ve only wanted him for one thing or another.
That has been his error.
He’s learned the hard way not to make the same mistakes anymore, which is what makes dealing with Seth so difficult. Every fiber in Ryan’s body tells him that Seth wants something from him that will cost Ryan in the end, just like everybody else. It’s taking Ryan longer than normal to find Seth’s angle, but every time Seth is kind to Ryan, every time he wants to play video games or hang out and do ‘whatever,’ it raises Ryan’s hackles.
People from Chino don’t do ‘just because.’
So Ryan bides his time, and he waits, because Seth is just another person, and sooner or later he’ll try and hustle Ryan. Even if Seth would never call it that, it doesn’t matter.
One day all the lobster lunches and comic books are going to add up properly in Ryan’s mind. One day Ryan is going to wake up, and he’ll finally figure out what Seth wants, because everybody wants something.
Everybody is a hustler at heart.
4. The Hitch
A smart hustler is always on the look out for other hustlers on the make.
A smart boy from Chino knows better than to let down his guard at any given time, even after he’s been thwarted by the fairy princess next door and her white knight.
Marissa was never Ryan’s to begin with. She was just using him, hustling him so she could hustle Luke.
Ryan should know better. Ryan does know better, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. He bleeds just like everyone else, and all he wants to do is slink back to the pool house and lick his wounds. Seth has Summer, Marissa has Luke, and Ryan is on his own, because that’s how it has always been.
Some things will never change -- except for when they do.
Seth should not be hiding out in the pool house when Ryan comes home. He should not look nearly as dejected as Ryan feels. This is not about Seth; this is about Ryan, except it’s never just about Ryan. It’s always about Ryan and how other people affect him, and the look of sheer disappointment on Seth’s face affects Ryan even more than a heart he thinks is broken.
When Seth says “she wasn’t the one,” for a moment Ryan thinks he’s talking about Marissa. But then he remembers: it’s never about Ryan.
Until Seth says it is.
5. The Payoff
Ryan’s entire life has been about learning to stay one step ahead of the game, and Seth’s words trip him up as surely as if he’d been caught with his hand up his sleeve. It’s late, and Ryan’s tired. He’s not on point, and Seth’s fumbling, stumbling confession of emotions doesn’t sound like any hustle that Ryan has ever heard in his life.
Ryan always makes a point of choosing his words carefully, but he can’t find any for Seth.
It’s not what Seth has said, or even how he’s said it in his rambling way, but the expression on his face: earnest and trusting and hurt.
Seth means it when he says that he just wants Ryan.
He isn’t trying to hustle Ryan; he’s trying to be honest. For the first time, Ryan can recognize the emotion for what it looks like in its rawest form. All Ryan has ever really wanted is to be loved, and he wonders what happens to people when they don’t have a reason to hustle anymore.
He’s always heard that hustlers are in the game until the day they die, but Ryan would rather just take early retirement and see what he can build with Seth instead.
-end-
Really fucking good Indian takeaway? Check.
Good mates? Check.
The ability to sleep? Errr, no, which means the likelihood of this making any sense is very small.
The OC
Doing the Hustle
1. The (Reluctant) Hustler
Until Ryan met and got to know Seth, he was justifiably weary of people who talked fast and moved faster. Where Ryan comes from flash and speed are reserved for cars, and people who adopt those traits are only about one thing: the hustle.
It’s one thing to hustle because you have to; it’s something else entirely to do it because you want to.
Ryan’s seen The Hustler; it’s a nice film, but it really has nothing to do with what hustling is all about at its heart: day-to-day life and doing what it takes to get by.
Ryan knows all about getting by when you’re recycling bottles for milk money and hanging out on the corner so that you don’t have to go home.
The hustle has nothing to do with cards or pool, and everything to do with making the best of what you’ve got. It’s about improvising, and Ryan is a jack-of-all trades. He doesn’t need a refrigerator full of food to eat for the week, and he knows how to fix what’s broken without the benefit of a toolbox.
Ryan knows about doing the hustle without being a hustler.
Hustlers enjoy what they do: Donnie was a hustler. So was Trey, and Luke has all the makings of one.
Ryan just does what he has to do.
He doesn’t talk about it; he just gets on with it. He can tell that this makes people nervous, but Ryan doesn’t see anything wrong with living life the way he does.
Everyone does what they have to to get by.
2. The Mark
When Seth says, “Everything’s cool,” he means everything is cool, except for whatever’s not cool. Or everything’s not cool, but he doesn’t want to talk about it.
Seth can say one thing and it will be open to twenty different interpretations, not because he’s Seth, but because that’s how most people are. It’s not Seth’s fault; it’s just how things are, it’s how most people are, but Ryan doesn’t operate like that.
When Ryan says, “Everything’s cool;” he means it.
Ryan won’t say what he doesn’t mean. He knows most people aren’t like that.
He knows most people aren’t like him, period.
Most people talk first, and think second. They will offer the world with one hand and hold a gun in the other. Ryan doesn’t even have the world, so naturally he’s suspicious of everyone else with good reason.
It’s nothing personal, it’s just experience.
Experience is why Ryan wasn’t surprised the first time the Cohens kicked him out, and more than a little surprised the second time they let him stay. Experience told Ryan that he would fuck things up with Marissa, and experience says it’s only a matter of time until the same thing happens with Seth.
It’s not pessimism; it’s just how things are.
Ryan knows what he’s capable of. He doesn’t think the worst of people, he just happens to know what they’re capable of, too.
Everyone as an ulterior motive, and Ryan’s only gotten to where he is because he understands this. His brain moves only slightly slower than a boosted car, and just because he doesn’t talk a lot doesn’t mean he doesn’t think a lot. He prefers to keep things internalized, because that way there’s a lesser chance for things to be misconstrued and misinterpreted.
3. The Con
Ryan doesn’t have friends; he has associates. He has people he knows. It’s not necessarily the way he’s wanted his life to be, but it’s the way things have turned out, and Ryan has adapted better than most. Part of adapting, however, requires learning things through trial and error: Ryan has tried to be friends with people and found out they’ve only wanted him for one thing or another.
That has been his error.
He’s learned the hard way not to make the same mistakes anymore, which is what makes dealing with Seth so difficult. Every fiber in Ryan’s body tells him that Seth wants something from him that will cost Ryan in the end, just like everybody else. It’s taking Ryan longer than normal to find Seth’s angle, but every time Seth is kind to Ryan, every time he wants to play video games or hang out and do ‘whatever,’ it raises Ryan’s hackles.
People from Chino don’t do ‘just because.’
So Ryan bides his time, and he waits, because Seth is just another person, and sooner or later he’ll try and hustle Ryan. Even if Seth would never call it that, it doesn’t matter.
One day all the lobster lunches and comic books are going to add up properly in Ryan’s mind. One day Ryan is going to wake up, and he’ll finally figure out what Seth wants, because everybody wants something.
Everybody is a hustler at heart.
4. The Hitch
A smart hustler is always on the look out for other hustlers on the make.
A smart boy from Chino knows better than to let down his guard at any given time, even after he’s been thwarted by the fairy princess next door and her white knight.
Marissa was never Ryan’s to begin with. She was just using him, hustling him so she could hustle Luke.
Ryan should know better. Ryan does know better, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. He bleeds just like everyone else, and all he wants to do is slink back to the pool house and lick his wounds. Seth has Summer, Marissa has Luke, and Ryan is on his own, because that’s how it has always been.
Some things will never change -- except for when they do.
Seth should not be hiding out in the pool house when Ryan comes home. He should not look nearly as dejected as Ryan feels. This is not about Seth; this is about Ryan, except it’s never just about Ryan. It’s always about Ryan and how other people affect him, and the look of sheer disappointment on Seth’s face affects Ryan even more than a heart he thinks is broken.
When Seth says “she wasn’t the one,” for a moment Ryan thinks he’s talking about Marissa. But then he remembers: it’s never about Ryan.
Until Seth says it is.
5. The Payoff
Ryan’s entire life has been about learning to stay one step ahead of the game, and Seth’s words trip him up as surely as if he’d been caught with his hand up his sleeve. It’s late, and Ryan’s tired. He’s not on point, and Seth’s fumbling, stumbling confession of emotions doesn’t sound like any hustle that Ryan has ever heard in his life.
Ryan always makes a point of choosing his words carefully, but he can’t find any for Seth.
It’s not what Seth has said, or even how he’s said it in his rambling way, but the expression on his face: earnest and trusting and hurt.
Seth means it when he says that he just wants Ryan.
He isn’t trying to hustle Ryan; he’s trying to be honest. For the first time, Ryan can recognize the emotion for what it looks like in its rawest form. All Ryan has ever really wanted is to be loved, and he wonders what happens to people when they don’t have a reason to hustle anymore.
He’s always heard that hustlers are in the game until the day they die, but Ryan would rather just take early retirement and see what he can build with Seth instead.
-end-