Heartbroken.

That was the one word to describe this feeling.

Ronald sat on a chair outside the ballroom, his face in his knees, crying quietly. Claira had made her message clear, there was no way she'd love him back. Ever. Her face was stuck in his mind, he couldn't stop thinking about her, he was crazy for her, and she'd just told him to get out. He could still faintly feel the way their lips pressed together in that painstakingly short kiss, and it just made him feel worse.

His inner turmoil was interrupted by the sound of sharp heels against the floor. Grell sat down in a chair beside him, pulling off his shoes and rubbing his feet, "Will was right, I shouldn't have worn such high shoes… Say, what's the matter honey?" He turned to Ron, tilting his head in concern.
Ron sniffed, "It's… it's Claira… She hates me! There's nothing I can do, nothing that will make her change her mind about me. She won't even give me a chance!"
Grell placed a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry, I know the feeling. I waited 90 years for Will to come around. It's heartbreakingly painful, I know, but if you keep on trying, one day she'll love you back."
"I can't force her to love me." He stared down at the ground, his eyes red from crying.
"You don't have to force her. Part of her probably already loves you, she just doesn't know it yet," Grell smiled, hoping that would cheer him up.
"You think so?"
"Yup. I know you're not used to rejection, but just keep your chin up, try and put it out of your mind for tonight and have a little fun! Just not that kind of fun, that wouldn't help your chances." Grell slipped his shoes back on, standing up. "So, you going back in, or do you wanna stay out here for a bit?"
"Stay out here. I'll need to go clean my face up later too, so don't wait for me, okay?"
Grell stood, wobbling as he readjusted himself on his fatally high heels, and then smiled sympathetically at his broken hearted subordinate, "Okay, feel better soon~"

And then he was left alone again.

Ron couldn't help but wallow in this lonely feeling. His first real rejection from his first real love… He'd been sitting out there for over an hour, Grell's words still running though his mind. She probably already loves me? Pfft, Grell is an idiot. A bloody idiot. She hates me, she told me herself! He wanted to scream at the injustice, his first love breaking his heart for the first time. He stopped himself from doing so upon hearing another pair of shoes making their way down the hallway.
"Grell told me you needed a pep-talk."

He looked up, surprised to see the face of his boss. William sat down beside Ron, leaning back. "Oh, Good evening, Mr Spears."
"On this rare occasion, you may address me by my first name if it would make you more comfortable."
A faint smile crossed Ron's face, "How many drinks have you had?"
"A few," Will shrugged. "So, tell me what's wrong."
"Mr Spe- I mean, William, I really don't want to talk about it…" He looked away, not wanting to meet his superior's eyes.
"It's not a matter of want, it's a matter of need. The best thing to do when you have some kind of conflict is to talk about it."
"Who do you talk to, then?" Ron turned his head back, surprised to see a faint smile on his boss's face.
"Sometimes Eric, sometimes Grell. Most of the time… well, my cat."
Ron actually let out a little laugh then, "You have a cat?"
Will smiled awkwardly, "Yeah, his name's Tybalt. He's a great listener."
"You serious? You talk to a cat?"
"Shut up. At least my reputation is flawless, unlike yours. You're the star of General Affairs, thanks to your massive- "
"You're really drunk, it's quite hilarious," Ron interrupted, laughing.
"I'm merely repeating what all those General Affairs ladies have been saying all evening. Apparently they were extremely upset when you ran out earlier. Hoping for a repeat of last year, I think."
"People still talk about that? Wow…"
"Anyway," Will got to his feet. "We better go back inside. The authors are running out of things for us to talk about."
"Authors..? You really are drunk, Spears." Ron stood too, quickly wiping his face. "Yeah, let's go." He walked to the door, holding it open for William, "Ladies first."
"You're hilarious," He replied, rolling his eyes and walking through.
"I know~" Ron chirped, following him.

After much searching, Grell managed to find his sister outside in the garden, the same place she'd been standing for the past half-hour. She was still in a state of shock after the kiss, remembering the feeling of how Ron's lips pressed against her own. There was a faint blush on her cheeks. Grell marched right up behind her, and hit her over the back of the head, "CLAIRA, YOU IDIOT!"
She turned around quickly, "Me, an idiot? Grell, I did nothing wrong!"
"You broke Ronald's heart!" He screamed back at her.
"What heart?! He's an ass!"
"No he isn't! He really loves you!"
"If you think he's so great, why don't you marry him?!"
Grell huffed, rolling his eyes, "I have my Will, and Ron isn't into a woman as amazing as I. He loves you, goddamnit!"
"Can't you just leave me alone, for crying out loud!?" She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, storming off into the night. Grell tried to follow, but tripped on an uneven cobblestone due to his heels. He glared after her as she left him there alone.

"Hmph, what a way to treat a lady…"

As Ron re-entered the ballroom, he couldn't help but grin at the party atmosphere. The music had changed from slow waltzes to upbeat, jazzy tunes. A lot of wine had been drunk, and everyone was relaxed, twirling around the dance floor or talking to one another. He laughed, noticing Undertaker spinning Alan around, who was looking utterly distressed, gripping onto his wizard hat. Ron strutted over, waving a hello to Undertaker, who dropped Alan to wave back. Alan immediately ran off, adjusting his robes.

"Hello, Knoxie-boy!"
"Hey, Undertaker!" Ron laughed back. "Nice to see you here!"
"Hihihii, I decided to take a break from my beauties tonight to come back here! It's so good to see everyone having such fun! Hiihiihii…~"
Ron cringed a bit at the retired reaper's creepy giggles, but smiled anyway. "So, what are you dressed as?" he eyed Undertaker's costume, which was the same as his every day wear.
"I'm an Undertaker! Hiihiihiihii!~" he laughed, spinning around.
"Of course…" Ron coughed, turning to the side, "Well um, I'm going to go and talk to some others, see you later!" he ran, trying to avoid the creepy grin on the mortician's face.

He walked around the perimeter of the room, trying to find someone to chat to. Absentmindedly, he pulled the fake pistols out of his holsters, spinning them around on his fingers. He began whistling the tune from some western he'd watched once, completing the cowboy look. He spotted Will walking around, Grell hanging off his arm. A smirk crossed the blonde's face, and he ran up to them. "I'M GOIN' PIGEON HUNTIN'!" He hollered in a crappy American accent.
Will turned to face him, "I am not a pigeon, I am a sparrow." He huffed, putting his hands on his hips.
"And yet I wonder how you managed to hide the fact you were gay for so long…" Ron shrugged, grinning.
"Oooh, Undertaker is over there! I'm going to go dance with him~" Grell skipped off, smiling, dragging Will behind him.

Claira had managed to find her way back inside, after about two hours of being lost. Dispatch became unfamiliar to her at night, due to the fact she never bothered exploring during overtime. Once she found her way back to the ballroom, she noticed Ron was gone, as was about half the other reapers, and the room was filled with an alcohol induced haze. She gagged, catching sight of William and Grell fiercely wrestling with one another's tongues against the wall, and again noting Eric doing a drunken striptease in the middle of the dance floor. Mimi sat back, eagerly watching the stripping reaper, video camera in hand.

"Hey," Claira waved, walking over beside Mimi. Mimi nodded in acknowledgement of her presence, continuing to gaze through her camera. Eric tossed off his shirt, flexing his muscular chest. Claira rolled her eyes, "So, how much did he have to drink?"
"The right amount, it seems." The General Affairs girls whooped as Eric removed the straps of his overalls from his shoulders.
"Figures. Only they'd like something as vulgar as that."
Mimi grinned, "Eric is a piece of work, no harm in enjoying it~" Eric kicked off his boots and slowly began teasingly sliding down his overalls, causing the crowd of women (and a very drunken Alan) to squeal like fangirls.
"Whatever. I guess I'll go home…" Claira turned to make for the exit, but the sight of Grell and Will kissing fiercely caused her to shudder and turn around. "On second thought, I think I better find somewhere else to stay tonight."
"You can stay at mine if you don't mind a little mess~" Mimi smiled, turning off her camera as Eric removed his pants, standing there in just his boxers. His fangirls (and one fanboy) squealed harder than ever before, and it was giving Claira a headache. The screaming continued, and Claira took Mimi by the wrist, dragging her outside.

"Hey, I wanted to see if he'd go all the way!" Mimi protested.
"Too bad, I need to go and sleep. Where do you live?"
Mimi rolled her apple green eyes, pushing her rectangular glasses up her nose. "Follow me."

And so ends the tale of that year's Reaper Costume Gala.

Rocki: SO WHAT DID YOU ALL THINK?
Shayde: HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS!
Rocki: Please all head on over to my page, we've got a poll there asking what we should put more of into this fic! Any and all contributions are welcome ^^
Shayde: And feel free to review! Reviews are writing juice!

AND SO WITH THE GALA OVER, THE CELEBRATIONS ARE DONE? THINK AGAIN, BECAUSE SOMEONE'S TURNING 100 IN THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THICKER THAN BLOOOOOOOOOOD!~