What on earth was he doing here? He should be out with his friends, it was open mic night at the pub and Finn had planned on singing the entire Journey album which, though disturbing, was way more appealing than this. Instead, he was sitting in another endless mansion with his parents of all people. For what? A dinner or something, which, now that he thought about it, was kind of odd no one else was there. No boring couples from the club, no overly enthusiastic members of his mother's DAR; it was only Huntzberger and Gilmore. Now, if he had had normal parents, he wouldn't think anything of it, but he didn't have normal parents and it was starting to dawn on him that something was up. Given that he was also in a brand new thousand dollar suit that his mother had insisted he wore, he was beginning to think that whatever was up was major.

The door bell had rung and Richard and Emily excused themselves, rushing to greet whoever was apparently going to be the fourth guest. He was thankful there was going to be one more to this little awkward soiree but quite unhappy that there was no chance to form a sub-party, a sub-party he was quite hoping would take place in Richard's study with the hundred year old bottles of scotch. Such is life he sighed, feeling increasingly more hopeless.
Then she came in.

She wasn't his normal type. No, not even close. Her hair was sleek and dark, not like the teased out blondes he normally got with.
Her figure was long, lean, and somehow petite, not like the surgically enhanced big-chested girls he brought to bed. And most of all, her dress, somehow her dress was incredibly revealing, but not in the showing too much kind of way, in fact she was mostly covered, it was how it hugged her body. And my God, those eyes, they held the depth of the sea within them.
This was Lorelei Gilmore-Hayden, Rory for short, who was quite possibly one of the biggest heiress in the country, maybe even the world. Logan only knew her by reputation, they didn't exactly follow the same circles, in fact, Rory didn't really follow any circles. Her upbringing was completely unconventional, born to society's golden couple, Lorelei Gilmore and Christopher Hayden, who were unmarried and 16 at the time, and taken away from the prying eyes of society to be raised in a little no-name town American sort of place. At least that was what Logan had heard. She really hadn't shown up on the scene until about four years ago and even then it was sparse,
no, Rory Gilmore-Hayden had really splashed into society until four years ago when her mother had passed away. That was when her grandmother had gotten her hooks into her and suddenly Rory was attending events, helping host DAR events and was throw under the proverbial bus of society.
So why was he, society's very own bad boy, with his carefree attitude that had gotten him into loads of trouble more than once, in the same room with the pride and joy of all of Hartford?.
Logan stared at her hand for a brief moment, caught off guard for only a fraction of a second before rolling into the classic Huntzberger charm he had perfected all those years ago in school. He took her hand, brought it up to his lips and kissed it ever so lightly. "The pleasure is all mine," he grinned.
she didn't even respond to his gesture,surprised he looked into her her eyes which were clouded, not at all concentrating on him 'what was she thinking' he thought to himself and not to get sucked into the appeal of one Logan Huntzberger.
"It's a wonder you two have never met," his mother smiled, "after all, you both are on the paper at Yale."

"The boy would need to grace the newsroom with his presence every once in a while to be 'on the paper'" his father remarked, taking a swig of his scotch.
"Wouldn't want them to think I'm cheap," Logan flashed a smile, "showing up all the time and all."
This earned a slight giggle from her grandmother, absolutely flooring Rory. That was something her mother would laugh at, hell, that was something her mother would have said. "Isn't he clever Rory?" Emily exclaimed, quite tickled and taken by the youngest Huntzberger.

"Sharp boy," Richard agreed.
"He's got some wild oats to sow," Mitchum went on, "but he'll make a good successor one day," he managed to get out with only a hint of doubt in his voice. Clearly he was hoping Logan would one day outgrow his wildness, take over Huntzberger Publishing Company, and become the son he had always wanted. Logan had obviously not demonstrated any of this, but his parents still apparently had hope.
And the dark remained pitch black until after dinner, when the bomb of all bombs was dropped in the middle of the living room and Rory's world was suddenly Hiroshima, just like it had been when her mother died, and she knew, deep down, that nothing would ever be the same.
"You want us to what?" he practically spat out.

"You heard me son, you both will be engaged next month and your marriage will during this spring break" Mitchum replied.

"But that is just," he paused, attempting to clear his mind of the insanity that had just be brought upon him, "crazy!"
"Logan," his mother started, "did you think you were going to be able to continue like this forever? Spending money, getting drunk, getting arrested, sleeping around with absolutely no plan for the future?" she shrieked.

"No, but I didn't expect to be auctioned off to the highest bidder!" he roared.

"That's not what happened," Richard began. Logan look to Rory, who a few seconds ago was calm and well, standing. She was now sitting,
obviously crumpled by the latest turn of events and he had watched her knees basically go numb as she had sunken down into the nearest chair. She starred at her hands, twisting her ring subconsciously, her fingers working to keep occupied, but she was utterly quiet and still.
Richard explained. "Rory is not accustomed to this world and she has duties to uphold, you have a reputation to live down and need to start being taken seriously. This is an opportunity, she is a smart and beautiful girl, and you would be a lucky man to have her end up at your side."

Had the whole world gone mad? This wasn't the dark ages where spouses were chosen for you at birth. And how could Rory be so calm! She was just sitting there. She should be outraged, she should be angry, she should be as infuriated with them as he was.

"You have to do this son," Mitchum said, as close to Logan as he dared to get. "You have to start settling down. You grandfather is fully retiring next year, the company will be solely mine and on graduating you will become Vice-President of operations. This is your path. This has been your path. The time for goofing off is over, it's high time you stepped up to the hand you've been dealt."
"You don't even care how I feel about this do you?" Logan asked, already aware of the answer.
"You don't even know how you feel," he father replied, "about anything," and the words stung at Logan in a way he never expected.

"Rory loves to write, to read, to debate, and she's wanted to be a journalist for as long as she can remember," Emily replied, "your family owns newspapers for goodness sake! She used to pretend to read the New York Times when she was 4, your New York Times as it turns out. You two share more in common than you might think, all we ask is that you give it a try."
"All you demand Emily," Logan spat, not caring for pleasantries at this point, "all ALL of you demand," he stressed. He turned to Rory, whose face was void of any emotion. Was she really buying into all this? Had a few short years around this turned her into a robot? Surely Rory, whose mother escaped society without turning back, had to have learned something about this growing up. Had to have learned that you didn't have to play by their rules, that you could make your own, you could blaze your own path. If she had, she wasn't giving it away now.
"you will be living together in an apartment which rory owns is outside the campus and you will be moving in with her tomorrow and sign this prenup immediately otherwise you know the consequences" mitchum growled.

Logan dropped his face into his hands, searching for calm, for strength, for an escape route.

"May Logan and I have a moment to ourselves," a sweet symphonic voice chimed in.

"Of course darling," Emily immediately grabbed for Richard's arm and was about to usher everyone to the door, before Rory stopped them.

"No need," she smiled, rising gracefully off her perch, gliding over to where Logan stood. "Care to take a walk with me in the garden," she asked him, her eyes bright, soft, and sweet.

Logan offered his arm, intrigued by her silence and now her response, perhaps they were escaping together. She hooked her arm in his, gently holding on but leaning closer to him than he anticipated. The look on his parent's and her grandparent's faces was priceless as they walked through the French doors and out into the night.

"They are nuts," he blurted out immediately as the doors closed, unable to pretend anything that had just transpired was even close to alright. Still, she remained silent and Logan glanced back at the house where the curtains moved, and he turned his attention back to her. Not only had they been thrust together, they were now under surveillance. Could this night get any stranger?.