OC fic: Disneyland for Newpsies
Disneyland for Newpsies
Title: Disneyland for Newpsies
Fandom: The O.C.
Characters: Ryan, Eric & Brad Ward
Spoilers: up through 4.1 The Avengers
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The O.C.. No profit taken.
Description: Ryan gets some visitors at the bar. Takes place some time before The Avengers.
Ryan was back in the bar’s utility/storage closet (a.k.a. his bedroom) grabbing some supplies when somebody from the bar called back to him.
“Hey, Atwood! A couple more of your friends are here!”
Ryan sighed to himself. Great. Who was it now?
Last month he’d had a visit from Leon and Phillip, who he knew from the Comic Book Club a couple of years back. Now they were seniors at Harbor and spent all their time hanging out with Seth at the comic book store where he worked. Of course Seth had told them all about his job here, and they had come hoping that Ryan would serve them alcohol. He’d had to explain to them that he was underage himself, and could do stuff like clean up, but couldn’t serve (which was strictly true, but nobody here strictly enforced the rules, so...).
If only it had ended there.
Those rich geeks didn’t belong here, and when they had walked in, some of the bar’s regulars had let them know it. Ryan had had to step in to keep things from getting ugly. Great. Just what he needed, to get into a fight with one of the bar’s regulars. Luckily Jake (his boss) had stepped in and told them to settle their differences in the cage, where at least everybody could profit. (And luckily that “cage” reference had gone over Leon and Phillip’s heads.) So that Friday that was what they did. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a fight that Ryan could lose. He had to show these guys that he’d defend his friends who came to visit him (even if he didn’t really want to), or else it could be dangerous for them to come.
Ryan sighed again and headed out to see who was visiting him this time. He knew it wouldn’t be Seth or Sandy because they’d just come back looking for him themselves (and Kirsten never came down).
When Ryan got to the bar area, it was immediately obvious who was there to see him. A couple of teenagers with “Newpsie” written all over them. They looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, and looked vaguely familiar. He’d probably seen them around, at Harbor, or the country club, or the yacht club. They were standing near the door looking around in awe, like they were at Disneyland. Or actually, more like they were tourists in some undeveloped country and couldn’t help but stare at the strange natives.
Then they spotted him and their faces lit up even more, if that was possible. They hurried over to him, eager as a couple of golden retriever puppies. When they got closer, one of them called out to him in relief, “Chino.”
Ah, right. Luke’s little brothers (the twins). They’d picked up calling him “Chino” from Luke. Their golden-retriever-ness should have given them away anyway. No wonder they looked familiar, although Ryan hadn’t seen them regularly in about two years, ever since Luke had left town. Now what were their names again? Oh, yeah, Eric and Brad, although he never could remember which was which. Not that they looked alike, but he just never could remember which name belonged to which kid.
Seth had made something up to remember their names. Now what was that again? Was it that the Blond was Brad, or that the one who had hair like Bozo the Clown was Brad? Ryan couldn’t remember. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. He looked back at them, standing eagerly in front of him.
Ryan crossed his arms, glared at them, and growled, “What do you want?”
The Wards looked a little taken aback at that and looked at each other nervously.
Bozo plucked up his courage. “Kaitlin said you worked here -“
Blondie interrupted his brother. “No, she said he lived here.”
Bozo elbowed his twin in the ribs and loudly whispered, “That can’t be right. Who lives in a bar?”
Ryan smiled to himself, then quickly suppressed it and repeated, “What do you want?”
After another shared nervous look, Bozo again took the lead. “Well... Um... We were kinda hoping you could -“
Ryan interrupted. He could guess what they wanted. “No.”
The other spoke up. “But -“
“No.”
They stopped and looked at each other again, apparently unable to come up with any arguments in the face of Ryan’s flat refusal to serve them drinks. But they weren’t leaving, either. Ryan took a deep breath.
“Which one of you is more like Luke?”
They looked again at each other and then blankly at Ryan. Apparently that wasn’t a question they were expecting. Morons.
“I mean, which one of you is a fighter? Luke used to get into fights all the time...”
Blondie answered, “Oh, um. I guess that’d be me, sort of. I -“
Ryan interrupted him by punching him in the nose. Just enough to stagger him back a little and cause his nose to start bleeding. He didn’t even have to hit the kid very hard. It was pathetically easy to give someone a bloody nose (as he remembered from when he accidentally elbowed Lindsay).
Both of Luke’s brothers stepped away from him, looking shocked, and scared. The red-haired one just stared at him, and the blond stood there trying to stem the flow of blood with his fingers. Ryan took his cleaning rag off his shoulder and handed it to the kid, who quickly snatched it and then got out of striking range. Smart kid. He’d be fine.
Ryan gave them a quick, wry smile. “Sorry I had to do that. Look, don’t come back. And tell all your friends and everyone else from Harbor not to come around here, okay? It isn’t safe.”
They again looked at each other (apparently they couldn’t do anything without mutual agreement), then gave Ryan a quick, scared nod, then skedaddled out of the bar as quickly as their little legs could carry them. Ryan had to laugh a little to himself when he got a round of applause from some of the regulars.
Ryan got back to work, hoping that was the end of that, and he’d never see Eric and Brad, or any other Newpsie, down here again.
Title: Disneyland for Newpsies
Fandom: The O.C.
Characters: Ryan, Eric & Brad Ward
Spoilers: up through 4.1 The Avengers
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The O.C.. No profit taken.
Description: Ryan gets some visitors at the bar. Takes place some time before The Avengers.
Ryan was back in the bar’s utility/storage closet (a.k.a. his bedroom) grabbing some supplies when somebody from the bar called back to him.
“Hey, Atwood! A couple more of your friends are here!”
Ryan sighed to himself. Great. Who was it now?
Last month he’d had a visit from Leon and Phillip, who he knew from the Comic Book Club a couple of years back. Now they were seniors at Harbor and spent all their time hanging out with Seth at the comic book store where he worked. Of course Seth had told them all about his job here, and they had come hoping that Ryan would serve them alcohol. He’d had to explain to them that he was underage himself, and could do stuff like clean up, but couldn’t serve (which was strictly true, but nobody here strictly enforced the rules, so...).
If only it had ended there.
Those rich geeks didn’t belong here, and when they had walked in, some of the bar’s regulars had let them know it. Ryan had had to step in to keep things from getting ugly. Great. Just what he needed, to get into a fight with one of the bar’s regulars. Luckily Jake (his boss) had stepped in and told them to settle their differences in the cage, where at least everybody could profit. (And luckily that “cage” reference had gone over Leon and Phillip’s heads.) So that Friday that was what they did. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a fight that Ryan could lose. He had to show these guys that he’d defend his friends who came to visit him (even if he didn’t really want to), or else it could be dangerous for them to come.
Ryan sighed again and headed out to see who was visiting him this time. He knew it wouldn’t be Seth or Sandy because they’d just come back looking for him themselves (and Kirsten never came down).
When Ryan got to the bar area, it was immediately obvious who was there to see him. A couple of teenagers with “Newpsie” written all over them. They looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, and looked vaguely familiar. He’d probably seen them around, at Harbor, or the country club, or the yacht club. They were standing near the door looking around in awe, like they were at Disneyland. Or actually, more like they were tourists in some undeveloped country and couldn’t help but stare at the strange natives.
Then they spotted him and their faces lit up even more, if that was possible. They hurried over to him, eager as a couple of golden retriever puppies. When they got closer, one of them called out to him in relief, “Chino.”
Ah, right. Luke’s little brothers (the twins). They’d picked up calling him “Chino” from Luke. Their golden-retriever-ness should have given them away anyway. No wonder they looked familiar, although Ryan hadn’t seen them regularly in about two years, ever since Luke had left town. Now what were their names again? Oh, yeah, Eric and Brad, although he never could remember which was which. Not that they looked alike, but he just never could remember which name belonged to which kid.
Seth had made something up to remember their names. Now what was that again? Was it that the Blond was Brad, or that the one who had hair like Bozo the Clown was Brad? Ryan couldn’t remember. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. He looked back at them, standing eagerly in front of him.
Ryan crossed his arms, glared at them, and growled, “What do you want?”
The Wards looked a little taken aback at that and looked at each other nervously.
Bozo plucked up his courage. “Kaitlin said you worked here -“
Blondie interrupted his brother. “No, she said he lived here.”
Bozo elbowed his twin in the ribs and loudly whispered, “That can’t be right. Who lives in a bar?”
Ryan smiled to himself, then quickly suppressed it and repeated, “What do you want?”
After another shared nervous look, Bozo again took the lead. “Well... Um... We were kinda hoping you could -“
Ryan interrupted. He could guess what they wanted. “No.”
The other spoke up. “But -“
“No.”
They stopped and looked at each other again, apparently unable to come up with any arguments in the face of Ryan’s flat refusal to serve them drinks. But they weren’t leaving, either. Ryan took a deep breath.
“Which one of you is more like Luke?”
They looked again at each other and then blankly at Ryan. Apparently that wasn’t a question they were expecting. Morons.
“I mean, which one of you is a fighter? Luke used to get into fights all the time...”
Blondie answered, “Oh, um. I guess that’d be me, sort of. I -“
Ryan interrupted him by punching him in the nose. Just enough to stagger him back a little and cause his nose to start bleeding. He didn’t even have to hit the kid very hard. It was pathetically easy to give someone a bloody nose (as he remembered from when he accidentally elbowed Lindsay).
Both of Luke’s brothers stepped away from him, looking shocked, and scared. The red-haired one just stared at him, and the blond stood there trying to stem the flow of blood with his fingers. Ryan took his cleaning rag off his shoulder and handed it to the kid, who quickly snatched it and then got out of striking range. Smart kid. He’d be fine.
Ryan gave them a quick, wry smile. “Sorry I had to do that. Look, don’t come back. And tell all your friends and everyone else from Harbor not to come around here, okay? It isn’t safe.”
They again looked at each other (apparently they couldn’t do anything without mutual agreement), then gave Ryan a quick, scared nod, then skedaddled out of the bar as quickly as their little legs could carry them. Ryan had to laugh a little to himself when he got a round of applause from some of the regulars.
Ryan got back to work, hoping that was the end of that, and he’d never see Eric and Brad, or any other Newpsie, down here again.