A/N: I don't own My Chemical Romance or any of its members (sadly).

APOV

I walk down the hallway, my pointe shoes making no sound on the hardwood floors of the Russian School of Ballet, otherwise known as St. Petersburg Academy. It's about ten o'clock and everyone else is at the party, celebrating our Christmas Eve, and final, performance of The Nutcracker Ballet. I was the Sugarplum Fairy. I'm not there because I have just received the news from my parents. I'm getting married, and not just to some rich heir or some distant relative of the Crown. Oh no. No. I'm marrying fucking Gerard Way.

--

I suppose I should back up here and explain a few things. My name is Anna Gilmore and I'm twenty five. I spent the first few years of my life in my family's mansion in the British countryside. If a certain number of people of the royal family die, I become queen. Yeah, it's pretty crazy. Ballet is my life though. And now my stupid parents are going to take it all away from me. I know what you're thinking: I'm twenty five years old; I should be able to make my own decisions. Yeah right. You try being the eldest child of one of the oldest families in England. Try having ancestors who were kings and queens and dukes and duchesses. In fact, my grandfather is a lord. Lord Gilmore. I love my grandfather, don't get me wrong. It's my parents I can't stand.

--

I quietly make my way up to my room. I need to think. I open and close the door as quietly as possible. I don't know who's about, but I'm sure there are some younger girls and boys somewhere around here doing God knows what. You sound like your mother. They can fuck each other if they want.

I open my window and crawl out on to the roof and look out over the city. Everything I did to get here...Everything I did to get away from all the pomp and shit...Ruined. I'll never be a celebrated prima ballerina. I'll be his wife.

It's not that I don't like My Chemical Romance. Quite the opposite, really. I have all of their albums, some posters, and videos of live shows I've downloaded. I suppose it's rather ironic, really, that I'm going to have to marry Gerard Way because I've had a small-ish crush on him for a very long time. So my parents kind of did something right. Except I don't want to get married. Especially to someone I don't even know, even if I happen to think he's the hottest person on the face of the earth.

"Anna? Anna!" I hear someone calling. Probably Clara, my best friend.

"I'm out here," I answer. Her face appears in the window.

"What are you doing out here and not at the party?" she asks, her French accented voice gets caught by the wind, making her sound far away.

"Thinking." She climbs out of the window and sits down next to me. She's still wearing her fairy costume and it blows around in the wind.

"About what?"

I sigh. Heavily. "I'm getting married."

"What?! Why didn't you tell me, ma cherie? When did they tell you?"

"Just after the show, backstage. That's why I didn't come to the party," I say. Clara has a look of horror on her face. "It isn't all bad...They've arranged my marriage to Gerard Way." I half-smile at her.

"You jest." I give her a strange look for her choice of words.

"No. For once, they did something right. Of course, I'll never let them know that or they'll find someone 'better.'"

"Well...Where...When do you meet him?"

"Tonight. They said he'd be here at about midnight...His flight doesn't land until eleven. The horrible thing is that everything was just falling into place and now...It's all ruined. I won't get to be the famous ballerina I've dreamed about being since I was tiny. I'll...I'll never get to be Juliet," I whisper. I've always wanted to dance Juliet in Romeo and Juliet.

"Well, maybe he'll...they'll...let you stay until we finish Swan Lake in May. After all, you are going to be Odette."

"Only if Gerard and I can team up to get a later wedding date. They've already begun talking about bloody April twenty fourth."

"Why then?"

"I dunno. I was hoping so badly that they'd forgotten about arranging my marriage or that maybe - just maybe - they cared enough to let me just live my life. To let me dance. I swear, I hate them. Right now, I don't even want to marry Gerard fucking Way. I don't want to marry anyone!" I shout for all of St. Petersburg to hear.

It's beginning to snow, so Clara and I crawl back through the window. My messy room is displayed before me from my position on the window seat. Band posters are all over the walls, clothes, shoes, ballet things all over the floor. My bed is unmade. Suddenly, I wonder where he'll be sleeping. Oh, fuck no!

"Oh, fuck no! This is just ridiculous!" I say a bit too loudly.

"What? What's the matter?" Clara asks, alarmed but unsurprised. I tend to have random outbursts a lot. I forget people can't hear my thoughts.

"If my parents think for one minute that I'm letting him sleep in my bed, with me, they are sadly mistaken." She protests, looking at me like I'm crazy. "If that wasn't the case, why wouldn't he be getting a hotel room and coming to meet me in the morning? I can't do this." I leap from the window seat and run into my bathroom, locking the door behind me.

"Anna!" Clara shouts after me, banging on the door. Somewhere a clock strikes midnight.

A/N: So, yeah, I know it's weird. But people on another writing site seemed to really like it so I'm gonna try it out here. Reviews? Pretty please? And I'm starting another chapter right after I get this one up