Chapter Four

The figure in front of Ryan in the mirror was unlike any reflection of himself he's ever seen before. It was hard to take in all at once. Helena had dressed him in casual clothes as they knew he wouldn't have any lessons that day and she'd cut his hair, but that was all he had known about the transformation. His slim legs had been stuffed into probably the tightest black skinny jeans imaginable and even though Ryan had been used to wearing skinny jeans before, he thought that this pair were probably meant for Helena's eight year old sister. She'd furnished him with the obligatory converses; he'd thought he'd spotted a couple of other pairs in his bags. The ones he had on now were black. His top was plain, tight and white. He'd also been forced into a green hoodie before he'd left. The overall effect was good, he had to admit.

His normally neat, slightly wavy brown hair had been cut into a sloppy side fringe and straightened. Somehow Helena had managed to force him into a bandana. He winced. With the eyeliner and the black nail varnish- he looked incredibly gay.

"So?" Squealed Frank, practically swinging off Ryan's arm. Ryan turned to the excited boy next to him.

"I...think my friend has a lot of explaining to do." He grimaced at the reflection, it grimaced back. He thought he could look at this two ways. One, at least convincing people that they were turning him gay wasn't going to be too hard- he was practically oozing camp out of every pore already. He even smelled slightly flowery. Two, maybe he'd be able to find some girls to charm with his 'gay vibe'.

"Ryan, I have to admit that for a guy who claims to be straight- you certainly don't look it." Ray appeared in Ryan's field of view as he moved in front of the mirror shaking his head. Frank laughed,

"Dude, even if he does claim to be straight, if he stays here for more than a week he won't be." Frank looked at Ryan. "The other guys would probably kill me if they found out that I'd told you, but they enjoy a challenge and currently you're it. You're going to have to get something to beat them off with."

Ryan didn't need reminding that the occupants of this wing's favourite game was 'pin the rainbow on the straight guy' but having Frank confirm it so bluntly brought home just how much trouble he was probably in. His worried thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Ray strolled over and let in a harassed looking Gerard. He stumbled in through the door and sat down on Ray's bed, breathing as though he'd run up twelve flights of stairs.

"They're already looking for Ryan" He said n between breaths, "They've been through all of my art stuff and I'm pretty sure Alex is planning a code blue already" He looked sympathetically at Ryan. The meaning of those words was lost on Ryan but both Frank and Ray sucked in a breath and exchanged worried glances.

"Already?" Frank raised an eyebrow and Gerard nodded.

"I spoke to Jack whilst Alex was distracted and he said that Alex was going to ring his dad and ask for permission to move it to tomorrow night." Gerard shot another loaded look at Ryan.

He got enough cryptic language at the CIA didn't need any more right now, Ryan coughed pointedly. Frank turned and sighed.

"Code blue is one of the worst kind of St M's party. Named for the excessive consumption of Blue Curacao and WKD."

Gerard nodded. "A code blue is usually held about a month after we get back, once the equivalent of freshers week is over -but since you're here..." He trailed off.

Ryan was stuck between awe that a college had rankings of parties, colour coded no less, and grim understanding of the motive behind Alex's thinking. Basically everyone thought that the best way to gay him up would be to get him incredibly drunk. Unluckily for them, Ryan hadn't yet met a person he couldn't drink under the table. As Frank and Ray muttered to Gerard he was formulating a plan of his own, if he could get Alex or Brendon drunk enough...maybe even if he couldn't get them to tell him outright their fathers were up to he might be able to get some blackmail material.

He decided to play innocent and tugged on Frank's shirt and stared at him wide eyed. "Just what sort of party is this going to be?" He asked timidly, hoping Frank would buy it.

Frank laughed. "The kind that has you puking for a week, moaning for a month and blushing for a year."

"Oh." Ryan said and faked an innocent 'deer in the headlights' look. Frank turned and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's ok- you'll get used to it, little innocent Ryan." Frank ruffled his hair affectionately.

Ray laughed and stood up. "Ok guys, let's go and help Ry finish un-packing." Frank jumped up from his spot on the bed, changing attitude completely, and dragged Ray out of the room with a rushed 'wait until you see the Armani'. Ryan made to follow them but Gerard grabbed his wrist in an uncharacteristically masculine movement. The dark and frankly, quite intimidating youth pulled him closer and whispered in his ear.

"There's no way you're as innocent as you look Farro, you have 'secret' written all over you. You might be fooling Frank and everybody else in this place- but you're not fooling me." Ryan shuddered. Gerard released him and stepped back. He cocked his head and smirked.

"Huh, you're cute when you're scared." He then flounced out of the room. Normality restored. Ryan shook himself. Gerard was clearly a lot more perceptive than a lot of the boys at St M's. He was going to have to be a lot more careful around him. An inhuman squeal from across the corridor announced Gerard's discovery of the Westwood tuxedo and Ryan decided he should probably get over there before he discovered the box of Rolex watches.

It took Ray and Frank combined to pull Gerard out of Ryan's room thirty minutes later. He was ecstatic to find out that Ryan wasn't good with eyeliner and makeup in general. It gave him someone to teach and someone to show off his 'artistic talent' to. He was still muttering about feathering and blending when they shoved him into one of the squashy armchairs by the now lit fire in the common room.

"So Ry, talk to me. Which group are you going to join?" Asked Ray, poking Ryan onto a sofa and sitting next to him. Ryan assumed he meant the two groups of 'Popular' and 'Band' that this school had going on.

"I wasn't aware I actually had to choose" He replied, frowning. Gerard snorted from his collapsed position.

"You don't have to- but it will happen. You'll fall into one of the groups whether you like it or not. Ray just wants to know if he can force you to be a groupie for the band." Gerard leant forward and stage whispered "Ray is definitely after your ass Farro." Ray smacked him.

"I'm straight- stop trying to convince Ryan otherwise." Ray poked Frank. "You stop encouraging him."

Ryan did a double take. He thought being straight was like, some big thing here. Frank caught his confused face and laughed.

"Ray will continually tell you he's straight. Which he is- if being straight entitles you to have an unhealthy obsession with hair products and musicals." At that moment, before Ray could rip Frank limb from limb Bob appeared round the corner. Ray sprang back into his seat, flicked his hair and crossed his legs. Gerard shot Ryan a look and Ryan smirked behind his hand.

To think he used to be thought of as the arty faggot when he was at school, he had nothing on these guys.

Bob cleared his throat and looked around at the scene in front of him. Ryan and Gerard giggling quietly, Ray acting like a bitchy princess and Frank eyeing up his Fro for pouncing on.

"Well, when we're all done being incredibly gay," He said, causing everyone to straighten up in a half hearted attempt to look manly. "In honour of Ryan's arrival, Spencer's cooked." These seemed to be magic words and no sooner that the words left Bobs mouth than Ryan was dragged upright and into the dining room where places had been set for everyone and there was a huge pile of steaming food on each plate.

Ryan eyed it warily. On closer inspection it looked just like plain pasta. Bob put a hand on his shoulder. "This is just the base, wait for the toppings." Ryan sat himself between Gerard and Bob and watched, puzzled, as the room slowly filled up as the news of Spencer's cooking reached the ears of everyone in the dorm. Jack practically ran in, closely followed by Alex. Brendon sauntered in and sat down opposite Ryan, who looked away. The last to join them was Bill. Who sort of drifted into the room. All thirteen of them, minus Spencer who was in the kitchen, began to fidget in their seats.

Gerard turned to Ryan, "We're normally a lot less formal about meals, but you haven't had Spencer supreme."

On cue Spencer burst through the doors carrying about ten bowls, balancing them all on his arms like a waiter. He placed them in front of people at regular intervals along the table. He then stood at the head of the table.

"Today, in honour of the newest member of Upper Second, we are eating a 'Ten tonne Spencer supreme'. As per usual each bowl contains a different topping. Pass the toppings to the left hand side."

After twenty minutes Ryan thought he could safely say he'd never eaten anything more bizarre- and he was a single 20 year old man. There were the usual Cheese and Tomato sauces, a nice herby one that reminded Ryan of a soup his mum used to make and some slightly more obscure ones. He saw a bowl of peanuts, crisps, something meaty and to his horror a bowl of sprinkles. To his utmost surprise the main consumer of the sprinkles/pasta combination was Brendon who was getting increasingly hyper as a result.

Ryan paused to re-evaluate Brendon. He had been icy towards him earlier and looked like he'd rather kill a bunch of puppies than share a room with Ryan but right now with the way he was laughing and joking- he looked like he was about to adopt a bunch of puppies. Ryan thought that maybe it was just the shock of seeing Ryan earlier that had put Brendon in a bad mood- then Brendon looked up from his intense conversation with Pete and there was no mistaking the contempt in his eyes when he looked at Ryan.

They locked gazes and Ryan felt his face heat up, Brendon smirked in a self satisfied way and nodded at Pete. Pete picked up his knife and delicately with more than a hint of sarcasm tapped his can of red bull. The table fell silent and everyone turned towards him.

"It has occurred to me that we know next to nothing about Ryan, I propose an après meal question time!"

Ryan groaned. More questions. Frank looked at him worriedly and Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Everyone else however, seemed more than eager to quiz Ryan. Pete stood up and placed his palms flat on the table.

"So- tell us, what makes baby Ryro tick?"

Ryan panicked. Ryro? As in Ryan/Ross? But they couldn't know. Could they? Brendon snorted.

"He's so thick he can't even work out a nickname! Ryan Farro, Ryarro, Ryro. Get it? Good." He kicked his feet up and put them on the dining room table. Ryan blushed again, relieved but angry that he hadn't seen the similarity between his old surname and his 'new' one.

Naturally Brendon and Pete used the same nickname people had been using on him for years. Naturally. He breathed out. Frank poked him in the ribs and he looked across the table to where Pete was staring at him expectantly. Ryan cast around for something to say. He didn't really know what they wanted to hear.

"Umm...I..read a lot, I like..uh...music and I um...play stuff. I paint?" Ryan stuttered plaintively at Pete feeling all the more like the new kid at high school. Brendon laughed again and Pete flicked his head back and smiled at the ceiling. Gerard looked at Ryan appraisingly before opening his mouth slowly.

"To be or not to be, that is the question whether tis-," He stopped and Ryan got the hint and picked it up where he left off.

"Whether tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or take up arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them." Ryan closed his mouth with a snap.

Brendon lifted his head up from where it was resting in his hands and shot a puzzled look in Ryan's direction. He tilted his head.

"O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?" He said and cocked his head to the other side trying to anticipate Ryan's reaction. Without consciously deciding to, Ryan followed his lead with the next lines.

"I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve, For sweet discourses in our time to come." The words flowed easily from Ryan's lips. One of his secret I-will-never-admit-to talents was his ability to remember and spout Shakespeare. He'd forgotten his desire to never admit it when Brendon motherfucking Urie and his unfathomable charm had decided to be Juliet. Brendon's eyes widened and he continued.

"O God, I have an ill-divining soul! Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale." His eyes bored into Ryan's and the chocolate orbs sucked him into a whirlpool of mystery and cough-suppressed-homosexuality. Ryan replied without thinking.

"And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: Dry sorrow drinks our blood." He closed his mouth and stared at his plate. Great Ryan. You will now be known as Ryan Farro English nerd. Well played. He glared at his remaining pasta and wondered where this new found desire to impress Brendon had come from. Maybe he was more of an Arts weirdo than he'd thought. He waited for the insults and blows to fall. After a minute of relative nothingness he sucked in a breath, he looked up to Gerard opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Pete laughed and William giggled.

"Well, at least we know what scholarship Ryan got in on." Muttered Frank. Everyone made noises of assent and Ryan was surprised not to hear any of the usual comments of 'fag' although, he thought that might be slightly hypocritical considering everybody in the room's questionable sexuality. Speaking of. He looked up to see Brendon glaring at him. No change there. He'd been almost convinced the Shakespeare might break the ice.

Spencer and Alex cleared the table and the meal moved into the common room. The boys collapsed onto sofas and some lounged on the floor. Alex and Jack curled up together in an armchair in the corner and Brendon lounged on a sofa. Frank, Gerard and Mikey moved upstairs muttering about comics and movie marathons. Pete, Gabe and Bill were talking about fashion- leather jackets vs. purple hoodies whilst Ray and Bob played a heated game of chess by the fire. Ray was winning chucking each piece he took at Bob's face.

Ryan battled mentally with himself before deciding to chance a conversation with Brendon. He threw himself into a chair and turned to the teenager.

"So- you like Shakespeare?" He asked innocently. Brendon turned slowly towards him, away from where he'd been watching the fashion conversation with mild interest.

"Sorry- you've obviously mistaken me for someone who gives a damn." He turned back towards the conversation leaving Ryan stranded. Ryan stood up and told no one in particular that he was going to bed. He got a wave from Bob as he climbed the stairs.

He reached the top of the staircase to find Spencer Smith sitting with his head in his hands. Spencer's head shot up as Ryan approached. His red eyes betrayed the fact that e had obviously been crying. Ryan was so shocked at this sudden display of humility in contrast to Spencer's outward lack of emotion that it caused him to collapse down and pull Spencer into a crushing hug. As Ryan rubbed circles into Spencer's back he didn't quite know what to do. After about three minutes Spencer pulled back and rubbed his face with his hands. He looked at Ryan and made a small squeaky noise. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"Today was my birthday," He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "No one remembered." Ryan's mouth flopped open in surprise. This was not what he'd been expecting. Spencer shook his head as though to clear the fog of emotion that was attempting to crash down over him. Ryan couldn't blame him. Spencer's birthday had been overshadowed even more by his arrival- so it was partly his fault. As Spencer got to his feet he gave a grateful nod to Ryan. It conveyed a silent message that somehow got across. Ryan had made Spencer feel a bit better, and no one needed to know. Ryan staggered upright and they shared another silent embrace before Spencer opened the door to the room opposite Ryan's and waved goodbye leaving a puzzled and shocked Ryan behind. Still stunned at the exchange Ryan walked into his own room and sat down heavily on the bed.

What on earth had that been about? Ryan decided he'd find out in the morning- Spencer had mentioned being in his art class. He threw his clothes into an empty suitcase under his bed and pulled out a holey, oversized Beatles shirt. He threw it on over his boxers and climbed into his single bed. It felt stiff and unfamiliar but he thought it could easily get used to it. A different, more difficult thought struck his mind- he reached under his bed and fumbled around in his bags. Moments later he pulled out one of the tiny audio bugs he was supposed to be placing around the school. Where could be a better place than Brendon Urie's bedroom? He stuck it on the underside of the lampshade on his bedside table and twisted the wires into place. He lay back in his bed and smiled- Farro would be happy about the rooming. As he stared across at Brendon's bed he started to name artists on the posters he could see. By the time Brendon stumbled into the room at what the old digital clock displayed as half twelve Ryan was more than half asleep.

As he drifted in and out of that state between awake and asleep he registered the rustle of sheets from the other side of the room as Brendon slid into the bed across the room.

Eyyy! How fantabulous- another chapter complete! I have couple of things to mention in this AN- so bear with me. Firstly- all used of 'faggot' 'gay' and other words that could be considered derogatory, are purely in the context of Ryan's thoughts. He's still a bit of an outsider to the whole gay thing at the moment. As chapters progress and he learns to like the people and not just view them through their sexuality then the terms will probably crop up less and less. Also they will fuck. More on that later.

This is later. This is a long fic...expect all of that goodness..but this is no PWP. This thing is heavy on the plot. So...there will be kissing and all that, but I'm working up to the good stuff. That being said, if any of you think I'm moving to slowly or lagging- please say. Feedback always welcome. Also...hows my paragraphing? Too short? Too long?

DROP ME A REVIEW! :D (if you want to make sure I'm including your fave pairing- ask. If I'm not...I'll work it in. Also- I post random ANs when I'm drunk. Apologies.