Our Story
Ryan's POV
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I did not want to go out the night I met Janey Ray. I woke up that morning, in Nashville of all places, and was airborne before dawn, hurtling home for a noon rugby kick-off (and then proceeded to put on one of the worst performances of my life). Exhausted from that ludicrous display of athletic mediocrity, I only had two (2!) post-match beers. They made my tummy hurt, so I retreated home, thinking of nothing but sleep. But from the depths of my mid-afternoon nap came a call, nay a beacon, whose brilliance would shame the fires of Minas Tirith. I was summoned to “crush beers with the lads” and sing karaoke. And I, being meant for the stage, went off to Quincy Hall. Eventually, I sang Friends in Low Places (one of the best performances of my life). Between verses one and two I saw her across the bar, a Helen, a Guinevere, a Lúthien Tinúviel of old. She locked eyes with me as I belted a bass note and smiled. None of the applause compared to that mirthful countenance. I had to serenade her again to confirm it wasn’t mere chance. Fortified by crushed beers, I ascended the stage and requested You Never Even Call Me by My Name. My eyes never left her as I unleashed a barrage of notes, the bar joining my crusade. Around the third “Darlin’,” she turned and met my gaze, smiling. Having received the go-ahead, I finished the song, then darted to her table just as she and her friends were leaving. Time being of the essence I declared, “Hi, my name’s Ryan. I’m here to flirt with you."
Janey's POV
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Meanwhile, I had no idea any of this was going on. It was my first time at Quincy Hall, and I didn't know they even had karaoke (I was there watching Ohio State lose). My back was to the stage, but I turned around because, credit where it's due, Ryan could actually sing. He walked past our table later and I gave him a smile, my way of saying "good job!" Except apparently, Ryan interpreted this as his cue to sing again, this time with unwavering eye contact directed entirely at me. (I genuinely did not notice this happening, but I believe him because the man commits to the bit.) As we were leaving, he walked straight over and said, "Hi, my name is Ryan, and I'm here to flirt with you." Bold move. It worked. Our first date went so well I called my mom and told her I might've just met my husband. Then I panicked and after our second date, told Ryan I wasn't ready for anything serious. We didn't speak for six months. During that time, I decided to go back to church. Before I could reach out to Ryan, one of the few practicing Catholics I knew, he messaged asking for a third date. I said no to the date but asked if he'd take me to mass. A month later, we attended our first mass together. A month after that, he asked me to be his girlfriend. A month after that? We were engaged. Ryan showed up as an answered prayer I hadn't even prayed yet. Now I'm getting married in the very church where I found my faith again, to the man who helped me find it.