"i don't believe a single word you say (but i can't stop listening)" might make a good title for a shyan fic, but i don't have any ideas for it so i thought i'd drop it here in case it sparks anything for you
Oh, oh.
Late night college radio show host Ryan. It's a call in show, and it's about ghosts and conspiracy theories and he gets more than his fair share of fucking weirdos, but sometimes people call in with genuine stories and those are great nights.
Ryan loves his job, actually, as a night owl. He likes watching the sun rise through the station windows. He plays an eclectic mix of music between callers and sometimes, when he can wheedle someone into doing it for free coffee and advertising spots after midnight, he gets a real medium or a psychic to come on the show and sometimes, he really feels like he's helping people out.
That is, until he starts getting calls from this guy. At first, Skeptic Dude refuses to give his name, calls in to argue with Ryan about whatever theory he's presenting. It's good natured tho, and Skeptic Dude's funny as fuck, and Ryan starts really looking forward to the nights when the dude calls.
This goes on for a while, and then the calls stop, and Ryan misses them. He gives it a month, and then he makes a throwaway comment after two am on a Thursday morning, wondering where the Skeptic Dude has gone.
The next night, there's a message left on the soundboard for him, pink paper taped to the top edge, just under where he hangs his headphones. It says some guy named Shane called and there's a number in Keith's nearly illegible scrawl.
Ryan pulls his phone out and dials the number, thinking maybe he remembered the psychic he'd been chatting with online's name wrong, but the voice that answers the phone, thick with sleep, is Skeptic Dude.
