On your knees // Bandom

41. Goodnight Socialite

Ryan had taken a moment to himself. He'd gone outside and leant against Dallon's brick wall, watched the stars with a reserved intensity. Midnight had just come and gone, leaving these in her wake.

He loved stars. The myths and stories and science all dancing together; astrology and constellations and physics.

He was so engrossed in their beauty he didn't notice Dallon's approach.

"Hey," Dallon said, joining him on the wall.
"Hey," Ryan offered him a smile, they were back to amicable.
"I saw you kissing that Awsten."
Ryan's defences didn't go up immediately. "Oh yeah, happened at the Winter Dance," Or thereabout.
"He's your boyfriend? You're his? Over me?"
"You cheated on me, Dall," Ryan reminded him.
"But you got with someone else?"
"What are you struggling to understand? You hurt me, I'm over it. I like someone else, they like me back. Comprehend?"
"You're mine."
"I'm my own fucking person, Dallon."
"No," He shook his head. "I love you."
"I don't care."

Dallon stood up, and faced Ryan instead, towing over his hunched figure. "You can't date someone else when I love you."
"Oh, but, as I recall, you dated me when Brendon 'loved you'." Ryan wasn't scared.
"Love is the most violent art," Dallon murmured to himself, like a promise or a mantra. "If I can't have you, then no one can."
"You do not control who I date."

Dallon tilted his head and the moonlight shone through the strands of hair. Ryan thought love was careful and considerate and beautiful when done right. Dallon's violent ideals didn't fit with his.

Dallon put one hand out and pinned Ryan to the wall. That's when Ryan belatedly began to perceive the threat and he looked around for some sort of help. It didn't come.

He could hear the sounds of the party carried through the air, the laughter and exclamations of people drowning in their own innocence, ignorant of Dallon's intentions.

Dallon pulled his other hand from his pocket and put both chilly palms on Ryans neck. Ryan figured, then, that he'd kiss him. It worked with his track record and with his words. It wouldn't be so bad, he thought to himself. He might be scared and violated but they'd kissed before, and he knew Awsten would understand.

Dallon didn't kiss him. He held his face with both hands and looked into the eyes of the boy he believed he was in love with, and twisted. Sharp.

There was no blood. That felt wrong, somehow, that Ryans soul slipped from his lips in a small gasp and his open eyes showed no recognition of the world around him, but there was no blood. He didn't that look much different.

Dallon let the body fall, and Ryan collapsed, his strings all broken. He took his phone from his pocket and dialled 911.

"Help," He sounded breathless. He wasn't.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at my house," He was intentionally misleading. "My sister's New Year's party."
"Can we have an address?"
He gave one, tripping over his words like he'd lost his mind. He probably had, just not in the way he was pretending.
"What's happened?" The operator asked.
"My boyfriend," he lied. "I went outside and he's- he's collapsed. I thought maybe he'd drunk, or something. I know he's not like that, but... he's not moving. He's not responding. He's not- he's not breathing."
"Okay, please try to stay calm. An ambulance is on the way. It's New Year's Eve, so it's quite busy. Do you know recovery position?"
"I... yeah."
"Please check that the ground is safe, then do that."
"Should I try and do CPR?"
"Do you have a defibrillator?"
"No."
"Can you do CPR?"
"Yeah, I'm going to try, I had training in school."
"Good, you're doing so well. Can you get help?"
"Yeah, but only from my friends," Dallon knew he'd be caught out if he lied.
"Get help, if you can, and then try CPR. I'll stay on the line with you. Can you put me on speaker?"
"Yeah, one sec."