The Gray City - Ryan Ross x Reader

Chapter Three

Winter brought, as each year, a wave of illness over New York. It was late November, the temperatures often dropping under zero and (Y/n) knew that soon the first dancers would miss due to a naughty cold or some painful coughing. It had been like that the first year she had worked her and the second. So the third year should be no different. It was a surprise none the less when she found out one evening that the only dancers still healthy enough to perform were Charlotte and herself. Hansen sighed deeply before quickly skipping on stage, walking over to Ryan where (Y/n) had taken her position.

"(Y/n), go over to Brendon, and dance with him, will you? He has to look good, the man in the middle. No one's paying attention to the other two anyway," he told her before getting off stage again, ignoring the offended look Ryan was throwing him.

(Y/n) did as her boss had asked, secretly glad to get away from Ryan for once. His caring and worrying from the evening she had almost gotten robbed were gone the following night, he had indeed returned to the stone cold figure he had been the whole time. (Y/n) knew she should not be upset by it. Had she not forbidden herself to keep hoping on getting to know him better? But it was easier said than done, and so his face, his hair, his eyes, lips, hands and rare smiles chased her through the days and even in her dreams. Maybe dancing with Brendon would get her on other thoughts.

She had barely started dancing, barely touched Brendon, when she already started comparing the two men. Brendon seemed not to be as warm as Ryan, his vest was cooler, his skin let heated when she ran her fingertips over his neck. He smelled different from Ryan, good and definitely not repulsive, but (Y/n) preferred Ryan's scent. Also Brendon's clothes seemed smoother, even though they were made from the same material as Ryan's.

It did not take (Y/n) long to notice the stares Ryan was unashamedly giving her. They were different form this usual stares on stage. These were dark stares, furrowed brows and boiling anger. (Y/n) did not allow herself the thought that he might be jealous, because that would mean that after all, he did care for her in some very twisted way. Instead she told herself it had to do something with the music or how the costumes of the dancers had changed; now they were a sparkling blue instead of red. (Y/n) liked the new color. It gave her skin a nice tone, matching perfectly with the eyeshadow she preferred using for performances.

Ryan was watching every single motion of her, not needing to concentrate on his playing from the many, many hours of training he had gained over the last weeks. His eyes were darting between the gentle sway of her hips, her tippled steps around his band mate and how she dragged her fingers over Brendon's shoulders as if she would start undressing him any moment. (Y/n) knew he watched and Ryan knew she knew, and she knew that. It created a weird tension between them, something similar like the one evening he had actually talked to her. But this time, it was darker. His glances were full of rage and her movements were provoking, knowing that he was close to losing control, even though she was not sure why.

The ring of the bell signaling the break came not one second too early. Ryan had seriously considered throwing his guitar across the stage, and pulling his little dancer off of Brendon, but luckily the quiet, metallic bling saved him the embarrassment.

Spencer casually stood up from his chair behind the drums, Brent set the guitar down at the side of the stage and together with Brendon they strode behind the curtain into the backstage area, followed by Charlotte, leaving Ryan and (Y/n) alone on stage. She pretended not to notice and instead stretched before also disappearing.

(Y/n) had almost reached the door to the break room, when a warm, big hand was placed on her bare shoulder and turned her around. She was only a little surprised to see Ryan, his cheeks flushed an angry red, his lips drawn into a thin line, his eyes darkened with rage.