Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Tainted Love
Rain streamed down the heavy hung curtains, making shadows on the porcelain skin of the young man sitting on the side of the shelter.
"Ryan, dear, why not sit with your parents? After all, we have not seen you in ages." A sharp voice struck the soft silence in the room. “You’d think a child would be overwhelmed to see his own birth mother," a woman said with artificial causality. "The very person who bestowed life on them.” She sighed, inspecting her polished nails for any faults.
"Of course," the prince auto-replied, striding over to a seat by the throne, eyes still set on the drowning window.
With the decrease in distance, the room suddenly became deathly silent; rain drops suddenly seemed to hail upon the castle, beckoning to break structures by the next hit.
A loud cough sounded with the rain, those pesky world-known ones, the ones that just scream for conversation.
"How is Charles?" The king finally spoke, wiping his hand in a handkerchief.
"Content."
"His..." the king paused for a moment. "Farm?"
"Peachy."
"Ryan," the second adult said suddenly, annoyance and irritation mixed in with her words. "Ryan," she said again, tone imitating a dog trainer.
"Hm?" said boy responded nonchalantly, not ever turning head.
"HM?! You do not ‘hm’ your mother! What were you raised in a fa-", She quickly caught herself, still keeping her dignity. The prince winced a little, irritation apparently running with the genes. With closed eyes, she inhaled a breath, and with a more calm voice and regained composure started.
"Ryan, you do not 'hm' a lady of the court. Especially your mother, the queen of England. You do turn when spoken to. You are to behave. You are to be polite. You are to have manners. You are to have respect. Do make myself clear?"
"Crystal."
The queen bee's piercing eyes glared into his, her taut lips opening to speak. "-Ma’m."
"That's more like it."
“Ryan, we see no reason to wait as far as your marriage is concerned. The princess is quite content at court and seems to have taken to you well. We have sent an ambassador to her father to discuss some details. We shall start our wedding preparations immediately; hopefully all will be ready in a month’s time.”
Ryan sighed. He’d resigned himself to this wedding. Of course he didn’t like the princess, but honestly what could he expect? He was a prince; princes were born to marry princesses, no matter how bothersome the princess in question could be. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad… he still had Brendon. Ryan blushed thinking of their kiss. It had been electrifying, filling his veins with more ecstasy than he could handle. He yearned to run back to the stables but he was imprisoned in this ornate room. Such is the tragedy of being a prince.
“Did you hear what the servants are speaking of?” The queens piercing voice interrupted Ryan’s train of thought.
“No, what are they gossiping about now, my darling?” the king murmured in reply.
Ryan felt his body tense up. Oh god. They couldn’t find out. He’d been banished from court for far less than this; one could only imagine what they would do to him! He rubbed sweaty palms on breeches, ice trickling down his spine. “Some noble was seen in bed with a common stable boy!”
Ryan heard his father gasp. “Who would have so little class as to do something like that? A commoner and a man? This noble should be punished harshly.”
“I agree,” Ryan’s mother’s voice was laced with disgust. “Trouble is, they don’t know who the noble is. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing; it’s a slap in the face to god.” She crossed herself piously.
Ryan felt a surge of anger rise up inside him. God hated to see Brendon and his love but didn’t mind his mother’s cruelty, vanity, and disregard for anyone who was not born noble. If that was god, he was nothing to worship. “Love is love,” he muttered furiously.
“What did you say?” his mother snapped. ‘Damn her bat-ears,’ Ryan thought.
“Nothing, mother!” he quickly assured her.
“Hmph.” She glared at him, unconvinced. “Why don’t you go visit your fiancé, Ryan?” Despite the phrasing, it was not a question.
Ryan departed out of the heavy chamber doors, passing from one hell to the next. He had no choice about the visit; the queen would surely ask Marie about it later.
Grudgingly, the prince made his way to the princess’s elegant rooms. He knocked politely on the door; the princess’s butler appeared a few moments later. The man bowed low, allowing the prince to enter the room. The princess entered the sitting room, elegant in skirts that could barely fit through the door and a corset so tight Ryan was surprised her ribs didn’t crack. “Ryan dearest!” Ryan stiffened.
How could a phrase have so much meaning when Brendon said it and none when it was spoken by Marie? “Lady Marie,” he bowed formally. They sat down on a flowery couch. Marie gestured to her servants who hurriedly brought them tea. “The queen and I have begun the wedding preparations. We have decided on the palace chapel as the venue and the flowers will be..” Ryan tuned her out, nodding politely periodically. Finally he decided the visit was long enough to keep his mother from screaming at him and made his excuses. Ryan hurried down the hall, glad to be away from that annoying princess. He sniffed his arm and quickly pulled away in disgust. He smelled of something far too flowery. Ryan pulled open the familiar door and stepped in. “Davey, I swear, if I have to listen to anymore wedding plans, I’m going to explode!”
Ryan pulled the door behind him and turned to face Davey and Brendon, seated at Davey’s cluttered table.
"Ryan, dear, why not sit with your parents? After all, we have not seen you in ages." A sharp voice struck the soft silence in the room. “You’d think a child would be overwhelmed to see his own birth mother," a woman said with artificial causality. "The very person who bestowed life on them.” She sighed, inspecting her polished nails for any faults.
"Of course," the prince auto-replied, striding over to a seat by the throne, eyes still set on the drowning window.
With the decrease in distance, the room suddenly became deathly silent; rain drops suddenly seemed to hail upon the castle, beckoning to break structures by the next hit.
A loud cough sounded with the rain, those pesky world-known ones, the ones that just scream for conversation.
"How is Charles?" The king finally spoke, wiping his hand in a handkerchief.
"Content."
"His..." the king paused for a moment. "Farm?"
"Peachy."
"Ryan," the second adult said suddenly, annoyance and irritation mixed in with her words. "Ryan," she said again, tone imitating a dog trainer.
"Hm?" said boy responded nonchalantly, not ever turning head.
"HM?! You do not ‘hm’ your mother! What were you raised in a fa-", She quickly caught herself, still keeping her dignity. The prince winced a little, irritation apparently running with the genes. With closed eyes, she inhaled a breath, and with a more calm voice and regained composure started.
"Ryan, you do not 'hm' a lady of the court. Especially your mother, the queen of England. You do turn when spoken to. You are to behave. You are to be polite. You are to have manners. You are to have respect. Do make myself clear?"
"Crystal."
The queen bee's piercing eyes glared into his, her taut lips opening to speak. "-Ma’m."
"That's more like it."
“Ryan, we see no reason to wait as far as your marriage is concerned. The princess is quite content at court and seems to have taken to you well. We have sent an ambassador to her father to discuss some details. We shall start our wedding preparations immediately; hopefully all will be ready in a month’s time.”
Ryan sighed. He’d resigned himself to this wedding. Of course he didn’t like the princess, but honestly what could he expect? He was a prince; princes were born to marry princesses, no matter how bothersome the princess in question could be. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad… he still had Brendon. Ryan blushed thinking of their kiss. It had been electrifying, filling his veins with more ecstasy than he could handle. He yearned to run back to the stables but he was imprisoned in this ornate room. Such is the tragedy of being a prince.
“Did you hear what the servants are speaking of?” The queens piercing voice interrupted Ryan’s train of thought.
“No, what are they gossiping about now, my darling?” the king murmured in reply.
Ryan felt his body tense up. Oh god. They couldn’t find out. He’d been banished from court for far less than this; one could only imagine what they would do to him! He rubbed sweaty palms on breeches, ice trickling down his spine. “Some noble was seen in bed with a common stable boy!”
Ryan heard his father gasp. “Who would have so little class as to do something like that? A commoner and a man? This noble should be punished harshly.”
“I agree,” Ryan’s mother’s voice was laced with disgust. “Trouble is, they don’t know who the noble is. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing; it’s a slap in the face to god.” She crossed herself piously.
Ryan felt a surge of anger rise up inside him. God hated to see Brendon and his love but didn’t mind his mother’s cruelty, vanity, and disregard for anyone who was not born noble. If that was god, he was nothing to worship. “Love is love,” he muttered furiously.
“What did you say?” his mother snapped. ‘Damn her bat-ears,’ Ryan thought.
“Nothing, mother!” he quickly assured her.
“Hmph.” She glared at him, unconvinced. “Why don’t you go visit your fiancé, Ryan?” Despite the phrasing, it was not a question.
Ryan departed out of the heavy chamber doors, passing from one hell to the next. He had no choice about the visit; the queen would surely ask Marie about it later.
Grudgingly, the prince made his way to the princess’s elegant rooms. He knocked politely on the door; the princess’s butler appeared a few moments later. The man bowed low, allowing the prince to enter the room. The princess entered the sitting room, elegant in skirts that could barely fit through the door and a corset so tight Ryan was surprised her ribs didn’t crack. “Ryan dearest!” Ryan stiffened.
How could a phrase have so much meaning when Brendon said it and none when it was spoken by Marie? “Lady Marie,” he bowed formally. They sat down on a flowery couch. Marie gestured to her servants who hurriedly brought them tea. “The queen and I have begun the wedding preparations. We have decided on the palace chapel as the venue and the flowers will be..” Ryan tuned her out, nodding politely periodically. Finally he decided the visit was long enough to keep his mother from screaming at him and made his excuses. Ryan hurried down the hall, glad to be away from that annoying princess. He sniffed his arm and quickly pulled away in disgust. He smelled of something far too flowery. Ryan pulled open the familiar door and stepped in. “Davey, I swear, if I have to listen to anymore wedding plans, I’m going to explode!”
Ryan pulled the door behind him and turned to face Davey and Brendon, seated at Davey’s cluttered table.
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