AN: I've re-written this chapter a billion times, but hello again.
Chapter Nine
"What the fuck?" Spluttered Ryan as he was pulled through the doors of the U2 block. The heavy wood thunked together behind him. Ryan stumbled, slipped on the rug just inside the door, and fell into the arms of none other than Pete Wentz. Ryan's life flashed before his eyes as thoughts of roses flew through his mind. He wrestled himself from the strong grip of the tanned boy and looked around.
The pounding in his head, he discovered, came not from his near wentz experience, but from the giant set of speakers in the corner of the room. The common room itself had been transformed into what resembled a club of sorts. The chairs and sofas had all been pushed over to the corner with the fireplace. It was the end furthest away from the speakers and was comparatively quiet. The opposite side was now a make shift dance floor, with the bottom steps of the stairs that faced the room acting as a stage, where Gabe was writhing to a beat of his own creation. The space in front of him was filled with people, all of them dancing. There were lights rigged to the curving staircase that meant that all of the dancers were bathed in changing neon light.
Ryan's attention was grabbed from the floor and directed to the door into the dining room where a boy Ryan didn't recognise had just fallen through. He was greeted by a round of applause as he staggered over to the leather chairs and promptly passed out. Pete spun Ryan around and looked at him squarely.
"I'm only going to explain this to you once Farro, so listen good." Ryan nodded, picking up on the urgency in Pete's voice, "Sofas are for passing out and making out, Dance floor is for dancing, Dining room is the dare room, kitchen is where the drinks are. No one is allowed upstairs before 12, No one from off campus is allowed in your room. Understand?"
Ryan nodded again, soaking in the information. Pete gave him a wink and strode off into the crowd of people now surrounding the passed out boy. All around Ryan were the typical scenes of a party with- to Ryan's surprise, a handful of girls thrown in. He did a quick headcount; he thought he counted at least 15 girls. He did a double take when he realised that was about the number of people in his year, then how was the room so full and loud? Another unfamiliar hand tapped him on the shoulder and he spun round. It was Mikey. Ryan instinctively jerked away, mindful of Mikey's slight less than veiled advances. He managed to jerk away- right into Gabe's arms. The tall youth had abandoned the decks in search of the new kid.
Before he could protest, Ryan was dragged up to the stairs and forced to join Gabe. The crowd of people in front of Ryan cheered, although what for, he wasn't sure. He scanned the crowd for anyone he recognised. Gerard and Bob were loitering at the back, what surprised him was that Frank and Ray weren't with them. That group seems inseparable. His attention was diverted as Gabe grabbed him round the green tie.
"This is him everyone! This is the reason this fabulous code blue has been moved forwards by a couple of weeks! This is the one, the only- Ryan Farro! Doesn't his eyeshadow look great?" Another cheer went up from the crowd, a bra flew past Ryan's left ear. Gabe ate up the attention; he probably had not had a reason to work up a crowd for ages. Other than 'yay lets all get smashed'.
"All the St Francis Girls give us a scream!" They did. "All the Mike's Guys!" A roar sounded throughout the cavernous room. "All of the people that think Farro here is a hot piece of ass?" Ryan didn't stop to listen. He shimmied past Gabe and onto the floor. He'd never liked large crowds and he needed to stay out of the limelight, especially if there were people here from outside of St Michael's. Anyway, they weren't even paying attention to him anymore. They were feeding of Gabe's infectious energy. As he headed to the dining room, contemplating his thirty seconds of fame, Ryan passed several people who nodded at him or raised their predictably blue plastic cups. About two metres away from the double doors Ryan bumped sharply into somebody, he stuttered out an apology as he turned.
"Oh, god- Sorry, I- Oh." Ryan stopped short. The person who he had bumped into was of the female species. Something he was not expecting. She had bright turquoise hair and a lip ring, she was wearing an outfit that closely mirrored his, a black vest with black jeans and converses.
"You're Ryan right? Nice to meet you." She waved her cup at him, "I guess this is kind of confusing for you. This must be your first St Mikes party right?" Ryan nodded and she chuckled, her lip ring sparkled in the changing light. She spoke with a lilting tone, and fast enough that Ryan had to really listen to what she was saying so he could understand.
"You'll get used to them, they happen often enough," She sniffed. "It's funny- there are never that many boys from your school actually here, they only let your year and the year below in." She tilted her head to the side, as thought this was something that really bothered her. It was something that Ryan had been thinking about himself- after all there had to be easily two hundred people in that room alone. He cleared his throat and tilted his head in the same direction as hers.
"So, uh, how come there are so many people here and um girls? Sorry if it's a stupid question...I uh." Ryan was panicking. It seemed that only a day at this school had robbed him of all ability to speak to members of the opposite sex.
"Oh, I guess that could be confusing," The girl turned Ryan around and pointed over his shoulder at people. "See those guys?" She gestured to a group of guys in polo shirts and chinos, "They're from the boys grammar school further into town, these guys-" She turned Ryan around again, pointing this time to a couple of older looking men, "-are last year's leavers from your school, they're entitled to return to any party they want." Ryan was twisted round for the last time as the still unnamed girl pointed at five other tall, slim girls, all dancing together.
"They are one of the groups of girls from St Francis' high, the popular group," She raised an eyebrow at Ryan. "The cliques work very similarly to yours." Ryan smiled and turned around to face her.
"So what clique are you in?" He asked, talking loudly over the music which had increased in volume since Gabe had broken out the dubstep. The girl in front of him wrinkled up her face in disgust at the music change and turned back to Ryan.
"The emo crowd," She shouted. As she said this another girl- dressed similarly, but wearing a black mini-skirt and tights instead of jeans, appeared and shouted something in her ear before dragging her away. As she went- turquoise hair drifting behind her, she called over her shoulder.
"It's Cassie, by the way, see you arou-" Her last words were cut off as a figure blocked her from view. It was Frank, he smiled.
"I see you've met Cassie?" He raised an eyebrow. Ryan remembered that he was supposed to be playing the overly straight man role. He nodded and looked wistfully after her, hoping this would have the desired effect.
"Yes, she's gorgeous, single and clever- but she copied my lip ring," Frank grabbed Ryan's arm and started to pull him over to the dining room, his original destination. "Now, let's see if we can't get you drunk."
As Frank dragged Ryan through the crowded dining room he decided he would continue with the innocent act. The idea that he didn't do parties had gone down well the other night, so he thought it would be best to stay consistent. They burst through into the kitchen and Frank slowed down.
Ryan looked around, taking in the celebratory changes that had happened in the kitchen. For one thing, the lights had changed to a bluish hue. It gave the room the effect of being deep underwater or at least somewhere not altogether normal. The coffee machines had been moved from the worktops. Replaced by row upon row of alcohol bottles. Ryan recognised most of them, the more common of the bottles being blue WKD vodka from the UK. Surprise , surprise. Some things never change. The thing that was the most insane was the bar that had been constructed in the corner; it stretched the entire width of the room and looked as though it has been ripped straight from a gay bar. The neon lights flashed ominously as Frank pushed him further into the room.
"A drink for my main man Toro, and hurry it up." Frank giggled and dragged Ryan over to the bar stools that had been arranged around the glowing edifice. There were five stools, Two already occupied by Bill and some other guy that Ryan didn't recognise. Ryan dragged out a seat and sat down, just as a harassed looking Brendon burst into the kitchen.
"Ray, can we get another bucket in here?" He spun around, looking for a bucket apparently. Ryan didn't want to know why. No one had changed out of their uniform but Brendon definitely seemed to be the most ruffled person Ryan had seen that evening. His tie was at a strange length, his shirt crumpled and buttoned wrong. His hair, that had been neatly combed that morning, was now a wild mess. He looked around the kitchen, looking straight through everyone.
Speaking of messy hair, Ray popped up from behind the bar. He was sporting an apron and a dishcloth. As he went to help Brendon he slammed a drink down in front of Ryan. It had an umbrella and a plastic monkey. Ryan eyed it suspiciously. Frank picked it up and sniffed it.
"Safe." He said smiling, and pushed it back over. Ryan picked up the cocktail glass and took a sip. Tequila and Blue Curacao. He smirked into the glass, before choking animatedly.
"What is that!" He gasped, slamming the glass down. Frank snorted and Bill chuckled from the other side of the bar. They'd bought it.
"That wasn't much Ry. Try it again." Frank picked up the glass, sipped it pointedly, and passed it back over. Looking at Bill. Ryan took a proper gulp this time, not bothering to hide his genuine distaste at the combination. It was going to go straight to his head as he hadn't eaten in hours. Although, he wagered he could still drink any one of the boys under the table- or bar. Not that he'd be doing that tonight. Acting drunk was his best plan at that point. Brendon and Alex weren't around to be gotten drunk, so he'd do the next best thing.
Ray came back just as Ryan drained the glass. The afro promptly disappeared behind the bar again, only to reappear moments later with a bottle full of a translucent blue liquid. He poured some into a shot glass and slid it silently towards Ryan. Who picked it up, and downed it. He registered the burn as the liquid shot down his neck. When he closed his mouth and rolled his tongue around, there was no trace of a flavour. Straight vodka, with blue food colouring.
He shuddered, involuntarily. If he didn't choose to handle this situation carefully, it could get messy- not to mention dangerous, going by the amount of vodka in that bottle. Frank took his shudder to be from the alcohol and rubbed his back jokingly.
"You ok man? Can you carry on?" He winked and grabbed the large bottle, pouring another shot. Ryan coughed and laughed.
"Sure, as long as you make sure I don't do anything stupid." He pulled the second shot towards him. As he lifted it to his lips Frank spoke.
"I won't," He breathed in, "But I challenge you to a game of Shags and Shots." The last part was ejected from his mouth so fast Ryan thought it might have broken the sound barrier. He placed his glass down, making sure to shake slightly.
"A game of what?" He asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as Bill shot up out of his seat and into the dining room.
Frank closed his eyes. His dark hair flopping over his eyes.
"Basically, you take shots, until you can't drink another, then you pass it. If you pass the shot- you remove an item of clothing. It keeps going until someone passes out." He sighed, "Also, this definitely wasn't my idea. They thought you'd trust me enough."
Ryan stuttered around words, flailed slightly and looked everywhere but Frank. Too perfect.
Well, he reasoned with himself, slightly perfect. He was about to get Frank very drunk, but Frank didn't know anything about Brendon and Alex's parents. Well, probably not. He pushed himself to his feet- swaying calculatedly. A hand on his shoulder steadied him. Ryan turned, catching bright eyes of Alex Gaskarth.
"Come on Ryro, let's go." Any friendship they'd formed earlier in the day had vaporised. Behind Alex were faces Ryan recognised, and some he didn't. There was a noticeable absence though. No Brendon.
Ryan allowed himself to be manipulated into the next room, staggering and moving sluggishly as he went. He took a moment to look around the room properly for the first time that day. There was a cloying scent of perfume and alcohol that hung in the air, dragging Ryan's eyelids down. The large table had been pushed against one wall, leaving a large space in the middle of the floor, the huge wooden surface was littered with blue cups, blue bottles and clothes. A large crowd was gathering in the room, those that had followed Alex and those that Gabe and Bill were leading in from the common room. One chair was covered in coats, another in bras. In the centre of the newly cleared floor was one small table with two chairs.
Ryan was shoved into one and Frank took the other. Frank looked around nervously, his usual light hearted smile gone. Not used to the attention Ryan surmised. Pete had pushed himself to the front of the crowd that were ringing the table; he walked into the middle to be next to Ryan. He lent over.
"Wasn't my idea either kid, I told you to look out for yourself? Although, I won't lie to you- I'm looking forward to this." his hot breath floated against Ryan's skin. He hadn't been drinking Ryan realised. Interesting. Pete straightened up, opening his arms up to the room. Ryan closed his eyes and slouched slightly, thinking all the time.
"Welcome one and all, to another game of Shags and Shots!" He paused for a short cheer. He got it. Some people were clearly very drunk already, others just joining in with the infectious atmosphere. Ryan fidgeted, he was genuinely slightly worried.
"As you all know, there are on average three of these per party- but seeing as this is the first of the year- and the newest addition to our family is a contender, I thought it deserved some pomp and circumstance," He gestured to the table. "Hence the slightly more intimate setting." A few people laughed, including Ryan- a large drunk laugh.
"Speaking of intimate- I'll just refresh everyone's minds with the rules and regulations. There are two players, one is challenged and one is the challenger. Before the game starts it is thrown open to the spectators that anyone can swap into the game, this can either be accepted or denied by the player. Shots are poured, these are dependent on the code of the party being held." Pete beckoned Ray who was carrying a tray with two shot glasses and the vodka from earlier. He sighed as he placed them in front of Frank and Ryan. Pete continued, his gestures animated.
"The loser has to be the barman at the next party, and the winner gets to DJ." As he continued Ryan turned to Frank. Frank's eyes were darting around the room, settling on Gerard and Bob who were throwing him confused glances. He turned to Ryan.
"Gerard won once, it was great." He made an attempt at a small smile. Ryan just fake giggled breathily, his ears were drawn back to Pete as he spoke.
"Of course, there are steps that have to be taken in the unlikely event that all clothing is removed- these will be up to the remaining spectators to decide."
Ryan frowned.
"Remaining?" he asked Frank sharply, glaring. Frank frowned before a look of comprehension dawned on his face. Ryan cursed internally. He'd not said that nearly drunk enough. Frank shook his head in disbelief. He leant forward over the table.
"Gerard was right about you Farro." He looked up, and back. "Pete said remaining because Patrick kicks everyone out at 2. This game has gone on to 5 before. Although, considering how good an actor you are- we'd all anticipated it would finish well before that." Ryan frowned. Frank was small albeit muscular- even the already 'drunk' Ryan could probably have beaten him. So then what did Frank mean? What was this?
"Who's missing Ryan?" Frank hissed in response to the silence. Ryan cocked his head, confused. He hadn't seen Spencer- but then he hadn't seen Jon either.
A round of applause marked the end of Pete's speech and he stepped back into the crowds. As he dissolved into the space between Alex and Gabe he called out;
"Will anyone volunteer to take the place of either of the competitors?"
In a theatrical manner, there were several minutes of complete silence- before a low, slurred voice came from the corner of the room.
"I'll swap with Fr'nk."
The crowd parted round the voice to reveal an already obviously drunk Brendon Urie who was leaning up against a wall. He was even more dishevelled than before, his tie was now hanging around his shoulders and his shirt was almost completely undone- revealing the planes of his remarkably smooth chest. He was holding an empty bottle. Ryan turned to look at Frank, but he only saw an empty chair. Frank was already back with Gerard and Bob. There was a look of sympathy on his face- but also relief.
Oh. Ryan reeled backwards. This whole thing was a set up. He'd been expecting something like this, but not quite as blatant- and not for something so stupid. They'd all wanted him drunk for the sole purpose of getting him to do something gay. Making him a convert, as Helena had described it. But this was so direct it had been hard to see the simpler purpose behind it. They got someone who Ryan already trusted to get him slightly drunk to start with, then to challenge him. They knew he'd go along with it because he trusted Frank. But because Ryan was taller although not quite as muscular- they thought he might have been able to beat Frank. So, Brendon would take his place. No one would swap in for the new kid, so it would be certain that Ryan would have to out drink Brendon- or end up naked. He could always refuse to do it, but it was so perfect. It was a clash of the plans- so to speak.
If he ended up really drunk and Brendon semi naked- The guys could have their gay Ryan. If Brendon ended up really drunk and Ryan semi naked, Ryan had a drunk impressionable Brendon who might just be persuaded to talk. Ryan wasn't sure what he wanted more, the information- or to see Brendon shirtless. He shook his head. Information. Obviously.
Brendon sat down opposite him, having made a great show of dragging the chair away from the table slowly. He stared at Ryan.
"S'a lose, lose game Ryho. But one 'f us will end up n'ked." He tipped his chair backwards, seemingly unbothered. Ryan realised that he still had the upper hand. Everyone else still thought he was drunk himself. From their point of view it was still a fair game. Drunk Brendon vs. Drunk Ryan. In reality- this would be over soon, but not with the result everyone was expecting. A passed out Brendon- and considering Brendon's already inebriated state, Ryan with one less sock.
Pete laughed as Brendon leaned back in.
"Ready boys?" He called, as Ray returned. Brendon gave Pete a clumsy thumbs up, Ryan nodded, "Then- Go!"
Ray poured the first shot, passing it to Ryan. Ryan looked at it, gingerly tossed it back and shuddered for effect. Ray poured him another. Ryan looked at it, and slid it over to Brendon.
"Tie!" Pete shouted.
Ryan's long fingers fiddled with his green tie, removing it fairly easily. He let it fall to the ground. He watched as Brendon lifted the glass to his lips with shaking hands. Ryan analysed as much as he could as Brendon threw the liquid to the back of his throat. He was taller than Ryan, slightly bulkier. If he'd started sober it might have taken more- but from what he could see, Ryan estimated that he would win by the fifth shot Brendon took. He reckoned that personally he had about seven left before he became too drunk to think rationally. In fact, any more might be potentially lethal. Brendon took a second shot before rolling the glass back to Ryan. He ripped the remaining buttons of his shirt apart and aimed his tie at Alex. His gaze wandered around the room amicably, he was subject to several wolf whistles.
It was sickening Ryan decided as he downed his second shot. He coughed slightly before letting Ray refill his glass., fumbling deliberately with the glass. Third shot. Again, the fiery liquid shot down his throat. Four. The glass rolled back across the table. Ryan took off his shoes. Six shots so far that evening.
"Boring!" Yelled Gabe. Ryan flipped his middle finger in the general direction of the voice. A chorus of 'Ooohs' went up from the crowd Brendon cocked his eyebrow and caught the glass before it rolled off the edge of the table.
He lifted his hand and pointed a slender finger at Ryan, his hand swayed and his head bobbed alarmingly. His eyes slid in and out of focus.
"The Problem," His head jerked up, "I said, the problem with you Ryro- is that you've forgott'n what subj'cts I do."
His head jerked backwards as he chucked the alcohol down his neck. Ryan thought hard. Music, Art, Drama- and another subject, probably Engli-. Oh. Drama, therefore acting. Therefore...Ryan's head snapped up. A bright eyed Brendon stared back, his back was straight, his hands perfectly steady- and his smile was malicious.
"Got you motherfucker." Brendon said, fixing Ryan with a hard glare. There was no trace of the smashed brendon from moments before.
Fuck, Ryan's head span. This meant he'd had six shots and Brendon had only had three. Bastards They'd planned this. The shirt, the tie, the goddamn bucket. All of it fake. Just so that Brendon would have an advantage when it came to getting Ryan naked. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or angry. They'd stripped him of all his advantages, the tables had turned. As cliché as it was. Motive aside, Ryan's competitive edge kicked in. This was no longer about the outcome, this was between him and the boy who had been acting like a dick ever since he'd got here, less than two days ago.
Ryan straightened up, cracked his knuckles and snatched the glass up from the table. He leaned in, keeping his voice low.
"Not yet Urie." Ryan watched as Ray filled the glass.
Ryan pushed the full glass back towards Brendon.
"Pass." He said. And took off his shirt.
Yes, I updated. Try not to die of shock. Happy New Year :)
