Boy Of The Ball ~ A Ryden AU

Ryan/Brendon (5)

My eyes scan the dance floor, and there he is, twirling Gwendolyn around in circles, her pretty pink gown spinning round and round. She smiles at him, and he smiles back, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, and I can feel my heart shatter in my chest.

"You brought this upon yourself, George Ryan Ross." I think sternly, but that does nothing to make me feel better.

I know I should have ran away with him. But fear stopped me. Fear will always hold me back. It does not matter how much I love Brendon, how much I want to kiss him. It does not matter.

Why am I so distraught? I have not even been intimate with him. I doubt he would even consider it. Brendon Boyd, a sodomite? Never. No future King would participate in such an act.

But a man can dream.
•••
(A/N: It's Brendon's POV now because I lost interest in Ryan's perspective for this part oop)

"Has anyone ever told you how attractive you are?" Gwendolyn simpers, stroking my cheek. I have an urge to swat her tiny hand away, but I suppress it.

"Yes." I say gruffly, looking away from her, and I can see her pout delicately. "Well. I am probably the first romantic interest to say it, no?"

"You are exquisite, Your Majesty..." Ryan breathed in awe, his eyes filled with something I could not pinpoint. "As are you, George. And I told you to call me Brendon."

He chuckled darkly. "I will do as you wish, as long as you call me Ryan."

"You are not, I am afraid." I whisper, the words small and fearful. "I have had many a conquest. But you are to be my bride, so you have the highest honor, of course."

She smiles, tilting her head so her golden hair shimmers in the candlelight. "But surely I am the most beautiful?"

Dark eyes. Soft hair. Plump lips. Button nose. Darkeyes softhair plumplips buttonnose darkeyessofthairplumplipsbuttonnose. This is the face of the one I love.

"You are not." I answer curtly, and I see anger and astonishment flash across her features, and I am preparing myself for a sharp rebuke when I hear a loud clapping.

Oh, happy day.

My father is about to speak.

And speak he does.

"Today is a joyous occasion. It is the day that we make an alliance with France. It is the day that I announce the engagement of Gwendolyn Maria Cole to my son, Brendon Boyd Urie. Soon, he will be crowned King, and then he will wed. Let us celebrate the soon to be couple with a toast! To Gwendolyn and Brendon, and the future of our kingdoms!" He calls, raising a goblet.

"To Gwendolyn and Brendon!" The crowd responds, raising glasses and goblets. Gwendolyn, who is standing by my elbow, beams, her smile wide and eyes calculating.

Soon to be... wed? No. No. I knew this was coming, but it is too soon. Too sudden. I cannot marry her. I will not!

My eyes swivel the crowd, and the room seems to be swaying, the colors too bright. I want to find a corner to duck into, a hole to fall down, but everywhere I look, there is more eyes, more false smiles and attention.

I can feel myself swaying on my feet now, and the crowd murmurs. "Dearest?" Gwendolyn pipes softly. "Are you alright?"

I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes is a weak whimper, before the edges of everything seem to become blurred and delicate, and oh-so-beautiful.

The last thing I see before I collapse is a huge pair of caramel eyes meeting my own.

And then everything

goes

black.