Ryan and I were on the cover – the entire cover. We were both dressed up and it was apparent to me that the photo was taken on the night we took his parents to dinner. The caption below our bodies read “Ryan’s in love!” Next to our photo were several side notes under the bold letters “Ryan Christensen shows off new girlfriend.” The additions informed the world that he was living with me in our “Love nest in RI” and that he had introduced me to his parents.
“Well, at least it’s a nice picture of us!” Ryan stated indifferently.
“The story isn’t bad either,” Janelle added. “I thought it was something you might want to keep, you know.” She looked unsure.
Ryan handed it to me with a smirky grin on his lips. “I’m sure you want to read it.”
I set the magazine down next to me on the seat and took another sip of champagne from the bottle. I could only imagine the horrible things that were said about me in there. It would only take seeing one negative comment about either one of us to send me into my own downward spiral.
Ryan gave me a perplexed look. He presumed I would have ripped the magazine open immediately, dying to know what was written.
“I’m not reading that now. I’d rather not cry my eyes out before a hockey game,” I whispered.
“Why?” Janelle asked. “It’s not bad. Really!”
I disagreed. “I just know there are lies printed in it. There always are. I’ve been blamed for breaking him and Suzanne up, for causing rifts on set between the actors. They print that I’m keeping him from seeing all of his friends. I even lost out on the national poll on which girl the public would rather see him with. Suzanne won with 72%.”
I rubbed my cheek, trying to keep from getting upset.
“Well there’s nothing like that in this one,” Janelle admitted.
“I’m sure there is,” I muttered, pushing the magazine further away. It was the paper version of poison to me. “Every one of these writers seems to have the need to get at least one good dig in. I don’t understand why they feel I’m not good enough.”
“Honey! Who gives a shit what they write?” Ryan stated. “I sure don’t.”
“Let me see it,” Nick asked. “I’ll tell you whether or not it’s safe to read.”
He quickly thumbed through the magazine, stopping to flash us the large interior picture of Ryan and me walking down my sidewalk, obviously ignoring the paparazzi.
“Oh my God!” Nick looked over the top of the magazine. “It says here that you forced my brother to learn how to make stained glass picture frames! Is this true?” He looked horrified.
Ryan laughed at his brother’s antics.
“I have to admit, that one is true.” I nodded.
“Does it say anything about her being mostly naked when she subjected me to a day of arts and crafts and power tools?” Ryan asked. All of a sudden his interest was piqued. “Are there pictures too, ‘cause I want those!”
“No, no pictures like that,” Nick stated. He resumed reading.
“What’s this? You…” he gasped, holding his shaky fingers in front of his mouth to emphasize his fright. “You bake birthday cakes - and then you had the audacity to make my parents eat it?” His voice changed to a high pitch to sound like he was crying and he cringed. “How could you?”
Ryan gave me a teasing shove. “Yeah Taryn! How could you?”
I hung my head down. “I’m sorry. I have no excuse for my actions,” I whispered.
“No champagne for you!” Ryan took the bottle from my hand.
“She even begged us to come to some birthday party in Rhode Island. We’re lucky I was traveling last week or else she would have subjected Janelle and me to more of these horrors!” Nick focused back on the magazine.
Nick made me jump slightly when he gasped loudly. “Tell the limo driver to stop. We have to kick Taryn out. It says right here she’s just using my brother for sex.”
Ryan sat up quickly. “That’s true! She forces me to…” He covered his eyes with the champagne bottle and pretended to cry, slumping back into the seat. “All the time!” he wailed. “And she beats me too! She says ‘you get naked and get in that bed or I’ll give you something to really cry about mister.’ I mean, I’m only human. I’m not a machine.”
“Janelle beats me all the time,” Nick cried. “I feel so used.”
“You wish!” she laughed.
“I don’t know about you Janelle, but if I have to pick up his dirty socks and underwear I want something in return!” I defended.
“I know!” she agreed. “The Christensen scent sure doesn’t smell like roses.”
“Hey, we take pride in our scent!” Ryan argued.
“If your fans only knew…” I replied. “Maybe they wouldn’t be standing so close to our doors.”
“I thought your fans were too busy kissing their Seaside pillowcases to travel all the way to Rhode Island,” Janelle teased.
“Go ahead and laugh, Janelle. I’m laughing all the way to the bank.”
“Pillowcases?” I questioned. I had no idea what she was talking about.
“And bed sheets! Now girls all around the globe can sleep with Charles at night!” Janelle laughed.
“I dry humped my Charles pillow just last night,” Nick chortled, making obscene gestures.
Ryan threw the champagne cork at him. I gathered Ryan didn’t like that last dig, because Ryan threw the cork with some force. Nick flinched away, smiling.
“I used the real Ryan Christensen as a sex toy last night,” I whispered in Ryan’s direction, trying to keep him in a good mood.
Ryan gave me a high-five and winked at me. “Damn straight! And then I sprayed you with my personal scent to keep the other animals away!”
Our limo drove past the main entrance to the arena, but the driver didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t know where to drop us? We ended up stopping in the back of the arena near a few large buses. The driver opened Ryan’s door and we headed towards a private entrance. Ryan took me by the hand; I drew in a deep breath and followed him towards the back door. Ryan Christensen would never again enter through the front doors of any place like a regular person.
Two arena employees were waiting for us, obviously aware that we were coming. We were escorted into an elevator that took us to the upper deck where all the private suites were located.