#mantis writes

Fearne had been the one to insist he make other friends, and was also the one currently waiting for him outside the Imperial Ank’Harel Amphitheater ahead of the Dorian Storm concert she’d gotten tickets for. Originally, the three tickets were for her, her friend and coworker Imogen, and Laudna, who Orym was pretty sure was Imogen’s girlfriend, but at this point he was too afraid to ask. Laudna, though, had something come up and couldn’t make the concert, and both women had insisted Orym come along so that the ticket didn’t go to waste. He’d tried to beg off; he wasn’t actually a big fan of most pop music and Dorian Storm had a reputation for having a slightly unhinged fanbase. However, every other option of their friend group had already been ruled out - Ashton had refused even more strongly than Orym had tried, Fresh Cut Grass had to work at the hospital, and Imogen flatly refused to be in any social situation that had both Fearne and Chetney without anyone else there to distract her from the constant and frankly unsettling flirting that tended to happen.

And so, Orym was the one pressing through the crush of bodies trying to catch a glimpse of sage green hair and antlers that tended to stick out above the tops of heads. Unfortunately, between his halfling stature and the sheer volume of people trying to get into the building, unless he bumped into her accidentally, he couldn’t get enough space to actually see anything except a sea of asses. Finally, he gave the exercise up as futile, instead quickly scaling a lamppost to allow him enough of a view to finally - finally - catch sight of not only Fearne, but also Imogen’s distinctive lavender hair. Imogen was turned away from him and seemed agitated, but Fearne quickly caught sight of him and started waving broadly as he hopped down off the lamp (apologizing to the tabaxi he almost tripped in the process) and nimbly worked his way through the crowd towards his friends.

“Hey!” he exclaimed in greeting as soon as he was within earshot of the women. “How are my two favorite - oh my gods, Fearne.”

“What?” the faun said with an innocence that could be put-on or could be sincere, but the large, brightly colored CALL ME IF IT DOESN’T WORK OUT sign complete with a hand-drawn eggplant and water droplets emoji tended to point towards the former.

“Orym, tell her she can’t take that thing inside,” Imogen said to him with a world-weary sigh that told him he’d walked in at the tail end of this particular conversation.

“It’s encouraging, though,” Fearne said sweetly. “It’s good to know you have options.”

“Fearne, you can’t proposition one of the grooms.”

“Okay first of all, there’s no confirmation that it will actually be a wedding today, it may just be a publicity stunt. And who said I was only interested in one of them?”

“Wait,” Orym said as the gears in his head processed the conversation. “Wedding? Grooms?”

“It’s probably just a publicity stunt,” Fearne insisted. “But yeah, that’s why these tickets were so hard to get. There’s a theory that Dorian Storm and Jaylan Hartfury are going to get married live on stage today.”

“It’s basically been confirmed,” Imogen continued patiently, still eyeing Fearne’s sign as though she were worried it was going to grow fangs and attack her. “There was a blind item on Exandria Unlimited about a celebrity couple planning a surprise wedding at a concert in Marquet this week. There are only a handful of singers touring the country this month and not only is Dorian Storm the most famous of the bunch, he also got very publicly engaged to Jaylan Hartfury three months ago.”

“And neither one of them denied it when people asked on social media,” Fearne added. “That’s good confirmation.”

Orym made a noncommittal hum as he put together this information while Imogen and Fearne continued bickering about the sign (“maybe if you just took off the emojis?”). He only really knew anything about Dorian Storm from Fearne, but he also wasn’t much of a music person beyond the stuff they used in the classes he taught at the gym, which tended to be instrumental dance music. Jaylan Hartfury, however, was a name he did recognize. The half-elf was fairly handsome with big blue eyes and dark brown hair, and had won several awards for his performances in the sorts of art films that Will had always enjoyed and that Orym had dutifully gone to see with him. The man wasn’t a bad actor by any means, but it wasn’t any secret that he was incredibly pretentious and made the lives of his co-stars miserable with his extreme method acting on set. Orym had never been a huge fan, and what little he knew of Dorian Storm as a person, the knowledge he was apparently marrying Jaylan Hartfury at a concert didn’t give him a particularly favorable image.

Orym was brought back out of his thoughts when Fearne let out a huff before dumping the large tote bag she used as a purse onto the sidewalk and plopping down onto the ground next to the pile of keys, loose cutlery, and various art supplies.

“Thank you, Fearne.” The relief in Imogen’s voice meant she had won the argument over the sign, and Orym watched as Fearne folded her original sign in half to hide the first set of text and began writing out MARRY ME INSTEAD in her neat block letters before surrounding the words in little hearts. It still wasn’t ideal, but from the look of things she wouldn’t be the only one holding a sign in that vein, so he figured it would be alright to let it slide.

With the sign drama settled and Fearne’s possessions back in her bag, the women decided it was time to head inside. Orym made sure to stick close to his friends, not wanting to risk getting separated from them again since they had the tickets and the ability to see at eye level with most everyone here. Orym wasn’t the only halfling in attendance (there were also a smattering of gnomes and even a goblin or two), and since it was a larger venue there were ordinances requiring various accommodations on request, but the ability to get a raised seat if he wanted one didn’t make maneuvering through the crowds any easier when they were packed as densely as this one was.

“So how did you get these seats again?” he asked Imogen as they made their way to the front of the audience, and Orym realized that they were third row dead center. These were amazing seats. Orym wasn’t even a fan of this singer and was excited at their proximity to the stage. There were any number of people in the audience who would have committed a number of criminal offenses to be where he was.

“The manager’s daughter was in my class last year. She was having some issues with reading and I got her a referral for some extra testing.”

“And he gave you these tickets as a thank you?”

“Orym, I’m shocked. That would be a complete conflict of interest. He gave me the tickets after she wasn’t in my class anymore because he knew Laudna and I were fans. That’s all.”

“Speaking of Laudna, where is she?”

Laudna was Imogen’s spooky shadow, and so far all he’d been able to discern of their relationship was that they lived together. There were two bedrooms, with the one that was Laudna’s clearly being used as a craft room with a dedicated work table and piles of marionettes and embroidery projects scattered around on the comfortable looking daybed, but the other room had a master bedroom with two hairbrushes on the vanity that he’d seen the few times he’d been to gatherings at their house and someone else was using the other bathroom. Making matters worse, nobody else in their small group seemed to be sure whether the two were a couple or not. Ashton swore up and down that they’d seen Imogen in a shirt that Laudna wore later that evening, and Fearne said that they danced together while chaperoning a 5th grade dance the year before Orym moved to town, but there were also perfectly innocent explanations for all those things as well. At this point nobody felt comfortable asking because they’d all known each other so long, and while it wasn’t necessarily his business, Orym had to admit that the mystery of it intrigued him. He didn’t need to know, but damned if he didn’t want to know.

“Oh, she had to work.”

“I thought one of the benefits of being an independent artisan was making your own hours?”

“Usually it is, but there was a convention in Jrusar this weekend and well, you can’t pay the bills with fun experiences.”

There was a wistfulness to her voice that Orym mentally added to his list of evidence they were dating, but then again they were also at a concert to watch an objectively attractive man singing pop songs and gyrating. Deciding to table the issue for the time being, he nodded sympathetically and then turned towards his phone, letting the ambient noise of the people surrounding him fade into the background as he looked up information on Dorian Storm so at least he could pretend to know what was going on during this thing.

It was a pretty standard pop star bio from a cursory glance - the first big hits all surrounded the engagement to Jaylan Hartfury, but even scrolling down, it was hard to find pictures of Dorian that weren’t either with Jaylan or else an album cover. The two were photographed together constantly in coordinating outfits, even when going to the gym or picking up coffee. Dorian at least had a nice smile, but Jaylan somehow never managed more than a smirk. And now Orym was apparently going to be watching their wedding.

“Doesn’t it seem a little strange to be at the wedding of strangers?” he said before he could stop himself. “Like, we don’t even know these people, but we’re here instead of their friends and family?”

“It is a little weird,” Imogen replied. “But they’re celebrities, things are different.”

“It’s probably not even a legal wedding,” Fearne added. “These kinds of things there’s usually a pre-nup and everything. I bet they take care of all the paperwork and the legal aspect ahead of time and this is just for cameras.”

“Yeah, probably.” Orym still couldn’t get past the wave of discomfort that had hit him since finding out he was attending a wedding, but instead he turned his attention back to his phone to wait for the concert to begin.

*

“I am happy for you, Bron. You know I’d be there if I could be.”

 Dorian Storm was losing his mind. That was the only explanation for why nobody else was making any sense right now, and for why he’d decided it was a good idea to talk to his brother, of all people, ahead of the biggest moment of his life.

“Cyrus, can’t you at least try to be happy for me?” he said into his phone.

“We’re literally in Ank’Harel. It’s not that far.”

There was a deep sigh on the other end, and Dorian could hear his brother moving to another room and shutting the door before speaking again. “It’s not that simple. Mom and Dad are…”

“I know, I know.” Dorian had made his choice on whether or not to be a part of the Wyvernwind family years ago, and he didn’t regret that decision, really. He’d had the misfortune of being born into a family that he could never be happy in, and leaving had been the right choice. He’d found a family in Ank’Harel playing music in shitty bars and now he was back here to get married in front of the only people who’d ever accepted him. Still, it didn’t necessarily make his brother not being there any easier.

“You know I’d come if I could,” Cyrus said.

“Are they still pretending I’m dead?” Dorian said as lightly as he could, hoping to disguise the bitterness he felt.

“Nobody pretends you’re dead.”

“No? What’s the story, then? Studying in Emon? Married a Xhorhasian baron?”

“They…stopped telling people about you,” Cyrus said in a quiet voice. “I’ve never gone along with it,” he added quickly. “Like, if someone asks I tell them you’re a singer.”

Somehow, that actually hurt worse than the Xhorhasian baron story would have. There was a time in his life when running off to Rosohna would have been an absolute dream.

“I have to go, Cyrus. I have a concert to perform and a wedding to be in.”

“Right. Right. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you. Make sure to check the news for pictures, I’m sure they’ll be up later tonight.” Dorian set the phone down on his vanity and took a deep breath to steady himself. He could do this. When Jaylan had first broached the idea of a big surprise wedding, he’d been hesitant for exactly this reason. But the more they’d discussed it, the better the idea had seemed. After all, Ank’Harel had been there for Dorian when he first ran away. It had led him to this life that he loved. And now he was getting married for the people who actually loved and supported him, not the ones who had always tried to force him to be something he had never wanted to be. This was going to be fantastic, and he was going to have a fantastic story to tell his grandchildren someday.

The door to the dressing room swung open and Dorian had a brief moment of tension before Jaylan sauntered through the door. He was already wearing half of his wedding suit: a pair of black trousers with a high collared shirt over top. There was a long black robe and a delicate series of silver chains that Dorian knew were supposed to go over his shoulders later, but they'd clearly been left off for now.

"There's my beautiful fiance!" Jaylan exclaimed with a grin. He bounded over and pressed a kiss to the top of Dorian's head before pulling back and looking at him, putting a hand under Dorian's chin and tilting his head back to get a better look at his face. Dorian let himself be adjusted, meeting the half-elf's grey-blue eyes. "Uh-oh, something's wrong."

"It's nothing," Dorian said reflexively, before adding, "I was just talking to my brother."

Jaylan tutted a little, bending down to press a quick kiss to Dorian's lips. "I don't know why you bother with that. It always upsets you."

"I know, but he's my brother."

"And today is your wedding day." Jaylan reached with the hand not on Dorian's chin to pry the cellphone from blue fingers and set it on the other side of the vanity table. Dorian hadn't even noticed how tightly he was clutching it until it was out of his hand. "You shouldn't let people upset you like this "

Dorian turned away from the hand on his chin, glancing into the mirror to fix his face into a more relaxed expression before looking back towards Jaylan.

"Of course, you're right. This is the biggest day of my life, I should be focusing on that."

"There's my best guy," Jaylan said with an exuberant voice that could almost be comforting before spinning back across the small space and flopping down onto the small couch, reclining with one leg resting on the arm and the other still on the floor. He was most attractive like that, Dorian thought, care-free and languid like nothing else in the world could possibly be more important. It was a nice reprieve from his intensity while working. He liked it when Jaylan turned to him, grinning broadly. "You're almost there, Blue. Just another 90 minutes of performing and it'll be time. The show of a lifetime, yeah?"

"The show of a lifetime," Dorian echoed in agreement.

He turned to face himself in the mirror, one final check to make sure all was well before tucking his phone into the pocket of his jacket and getting up. He was always so full of nervous energy before going on stage, he couldn't help shaking his hands out and bouncing on the balls of his feet for a brief moment before leaning down to kiss Jaylan properly, neither one touching his hair for fear of ruining it.

And then Dorian was out the door with a wink, bounding past Dariax, his bodyguard and friend, to the backstage area as the lights began to go down.

 "Thank you, Ank'Harel!" Dorian shouted towards the end of the show. He'd done it, it was time to go get changed, and the next time he'd be out on this stage would be the wedding and then a new song he'd done for Jaylan and then it would be done. "Make sure you stay in your seats for the next number, I have a very special surprise!"

So far it had been going well. He'd done mostly his newer, more upbeat songs, but he always liked to sprinkle in a few of the slower, folkier songs he'd written when he first started singing. They were still favorites of his and he liked to reward his early fans with those little moments throughout the night, especially here where so many of them had been written.

Dorian jogged off the stage to the roaring applause, grabbing his phone out of his coat and tucking it under his chin as he scrambled through the costume change. His wedding outfit would be mostly the same as his show outfit, but with the addition of a long white robe with an asymmetric hem that fluttered to the floor in the back. The color was beautiful on his skin, and the high collar with a lace ruff had been his favorite part. The long bell sleeves were cut off the shoulder and covered his hands when he held his arms to his side but fell away when he had his hands up with a microphone. There wasn't a lot of jewelry like Jaylan had, instead it let the fabric and his skin do all the work. He looked stunning and he knew it.

"Gorgeous," the wardrobe assistant said as soon as the last buttons were done up. "He's so lucky to have you."

"We're both lucky," he demurred, but silently hoped for the best. He looked the furthest thing he ever had from the person he'd been before, from Brontë. This, the man in the looking glass in front of him, was the person he'd always dreamed of being. His whole future was ahead of him.

Looking around, Dorian didn't see Jaylan. He pulled his phone out and unlocked it, intending to text his fiance, but instead a text from his social media manager caught his attention.

Opal 💎: call me as soon as you see this!!!!!!!

The urgency gave him pause, as did the request to call her. Opal could be a little (a lot) extra, but she didn't usually send that many exclamation marks or request an urgent call. Without thinking, he opened her contact and hit the call button, wandering farther backstage looking for privacy and his fiance and not necessarily in that order.

"Have you checked the EXU blog?" Her voice was nervous and upset as soon as she answered, and that just made him more anxious.

"What? No, I've been on stage. Opal, what's going on?"

"Are you with Jaylan?"

"Not - not right now, no. Can you speed this up? I'm about to go back on stage as soon as I find him."

Dorian smiled apologetically to Dariax as he approached his dressing room, mouthing the word Opal to the dwarf in the hopes he wouldn't be too upset at being ignored. Dariax had a blank expression on his face and wouldn't meet Dorian's eye. He would have to make it up to his friend later once he dealt with everything else.

"There was a special report on their blog." Opal sounded nearly frantic now as Dorian swung the door open, revealing Jaylan still on the couch with another person on top of him. Dorian froze as Opal's voice continued. "He was seen out on the town last night getting cozy with some rando at a restaurant in Ank'Harel. They have pictures. I know it doesn't necessarily mean anything but-"

"Opal." Dorian's voice sounded distant even to his own ears, as though it was coming from somewhere outside his body - or, more likely, he's completely left his body and was now experiencing the whole scene from somewhere above and behind himself. "I'm going to have to call you back."

He ended the call without waiting for a response or even looking away from the scene in front of him. The Yuan-Ti who had been grinding in Jaylan's lap pulled back like they'd been shocked, covering their chest (oh they were also half naked, fantastic) and fishing around on the floor for a shirt.

"Oh, there you are!" Jaylan said cheerfully as though Dorian hadn't just walked in on what he'd walked in on. "This is -" he gestured to the stranger, but Dorian wasn't about to stand here and be introduced to this person who he'd just walked in on with his fiance.

"Don't!" Dorian snapped. "I don't even want to hear anything you could have to say, either of you."

"Oh come on, Blue," Jaylan said calmly, using his pet name for Dorian as though he had the right, as though none of this changed anything. "Don't overreact."

"Don't overreact? I'm sorry, how am I supposed to react to this? We are literally seconds away from getting married. Was I supposed to ask to join?"

Jaylan grimaced, looking a little bit abashed for the first time today. "This isn't how I meant for you to find out. Where's that dwarf? He was supposed to knock when you got off stage."

"So it's Dariax's fault I walked in on this." Dorian couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You are incredible. Absolutely incredible. You know what? No, I'm not going to deal with this right now. I have a show to finish. Without you."

Jaylan jumped to his feet as Dorian stormed out, following closely.

"Come on, this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you about this. I knew you'd react this way. Come on, Blue. You know how this works."

"How this- how what works, Jaylan? Affairs? Weddings? What am I missing?"

"You can't be that old fashioned. This is the life you wanted, travel and celebrity - and groupies."

"First of all, you can't pretend like it's an open relationship if you're the only one who knew about it. Second, what part of this situation makes me old fashioned? Actually, no. I don't want an answer. I want you gone. I have to get through the rest of this show."

"Think about this, Dorian." Jaylan's voice was serious, now. Not threatening exactly, but there was a definite warning being given as the half-elf grabbed Dorian's upper arm. "Really think about it. Do you really want to go out there by yourself? Everyone knows what's supposed to be going on, your last album cover had you in a wedding dress, for gods' sake. The secret song you're supposed to debut is about a wedding. Right now, this is all rumor and innuendo. The second you go out there alone, it's all confirmed. And then where will you be? We both know the only reason anyone cares about you is because of me. Don't do anything stupid."

Dorian felt the blood rush to his face with anger and he was sure he was flushed a brilliant purple, but it was all he could do not to haul off and punch this man he had thought loved him as he said these terrible things as though they justified the betrayal.

"Look out there, Jaylan," he finally said with a calmness he didn't know he possessed, gesturing to the sliver of crowd just barely visible around the curtains. "See all those people? They're cheering for me. That's my name on all the signs. You may have helped boost my profile, but I made Dorian Storm and that's who they're here to see. I don't need you." Dorian jerked his arm free. "You better not be here anymore when I get off that stage."

And with that, he marched out on stage with as much determination as he could muster, closing his eyes and just basking in the love and validation as the roar of the crowd enveloped him in the fact that these people loved him, these people wanted him. He'd be alright. He had no idea what to do or say, but he would be okay as long as he had that.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, still trying to formulate a solution to this problem, but none was forthcoming. And so he did the one thing he knew he could do - he sang. He did a brief medley of a few different songs that he sometimes did at dinner parties if he wanted to show off, and they cheered. He felt himself reaching that space he loved so much where nothing else mattered except the love of the crowd. Nothing from his real life mattered, not Cyrus or his parents or stupid fucking Jaylan - or even Brontë, the life he'd given up so that he could become Dorian. There was a shrill feeling to his elation now, a desperate, self-destructive edge he'd never felt before. Of course, nothing else mattered. He had his fans. His fans loved him. This was the love that mattered, wasn't it?

"I heard you were here for a wedding," he said at last, just barely keeping the hysterical edge out of his voice through sheer will alone. The crowd roared. "Well, who am I to disappoint all of you…you wonderful, beautiful people?"

They cheered harder.

"Unfortunately, Jaylan won't be joining us this evening," that earned a disappointed sound he was quick to quell. "I know, I know. Unfortunately, we've gone our separate ways. I'm sure the tabloids will keep you all informed of any upcoming developments. But, you good people came for a wedding, didn't you?"

 "You." The voice from the stage snapped Orym out of his distraction. He'd been watching Imogen's phone as she texted a live play-by-play of the scene unfolding before them to Laudna. When his focus returned to the stage, he saw none other than Dorian Storm himself holding a hand towards the crowd, and it took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize the singer was speaking directly to him.

They erupted in applause again, and he glanced around the front of the crowd desperately. Looking for someone - anyone - any familiar face in this sea of strangers who adored him more than his own family did. But no luck, nobody was there to save him and so he would save himself.

*

"What's your name?" the genasi continued, smiling when Orym looked around again, still completely convinced that there was somebody else he must have meant. "Yes, you. The handsome halfling with the sign. What's your name?"

"Orym!" Imogen and Fearne shouted in unison when he found himself unable to answer.

His eyes fluttered across the crowd, panic and bile and the knowledge that he would regret this while being completely unable to stop it rising up on him. Finally, his eyes lit upon a sign in the crowd - MARRY ME INSTEAD in big colorful letters, held by a halfling man. Dorian didn't let himself think twice as he stepped across the stage and reached out a hand.

"Orym?" Dorian repeated the name, and Orym couldn't help but like the way it sounded in his melodious voice. No matter what Orym may think of the man’s music, there was no denying the genasi had an absolutely beautiful voice. “That’s a great sign you have there, Orym.”

Dorian’s voice was low and sexy now, and so clearly meant to be seductive that it took Orym more than a few seconds to realize - the sign! Fearne’s stupid, ridiculous sign that she’d asked him to hold while she got a snack and hadn’t taken back after Dorian had started again. The sign offering to marry Dorian that he was still holding. Orym felt his mouth moving up and down as he tried to think of a response without actually being able to form words - some way to tell this strange man, oh no, I’m not the one who wants to marry you, it’s my large friend here, but Orym was only able to nod mutely.

“Why don’t you come up here?” Dorian asked, and, again, words failed Orym as his friends shoved him forward and the crowd parted - dozens of strange hands pushing him up and onto the stage as Dorian held a hand out to help him up. “Well, Orym,” Dorian continued. “I saw your sign and I thought I’d make your wish come true, how’s that sound?”

The crowd roared again, and Orym knew he had to say something to make this stop.

“Uh,” he forced out as eloquently as he could manage.

“Don’t be shy,” Dorian replied, taking Orym’s hand and guiding him towards the back of the stage where a curtain was lifting to reveal an arch and an officiant. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Orym was completely stunned, helpless to do anything but follow.

Everything was moving in slow motion around him, but it still somehow felt too fast for Orym to keep up with. The officiant was saying words to his right, but his eyes were locked on the man in front of him. Dorian was beautiful, there was no getting around it; with his pale blue skin and black-blue hair fading to white at the ends, everything about him was stunning with not a hair out of place. But Orym had known that from the posters outside the building on their way in, what Orym actually found himself lost in was Dorian's eyes - his crystal blue eyes brimming with hurt and hope and some other emotions that Orym couldn't place roiling beneath that carefully crafted exterior.

He should say no. He should say no! This was insane, he'd let this go on too far already and he'd only known Dorian Storm for the last few minutes. There was no way this was even a legal marriage, there was no reason to repeat after the cleric as he was led through the wedding vows (the same ones you said to Will, a very unhelpful little voice in his head provided). All Orym had to do was let go of Dorian's hand and walk off this stage and it would be over. He wouldn't have to have anything further to do with Dorian Storm or whatever celebrity tabloid drama was going on. And yet…Dorian was still looking at him with those sea-colored eyes and for a split second the mask slipped and he looked like nothing so much as a fairy tale prince hoping Orym was the knight come to save him from the dragon.

And damn it all, but Orym had always had a weakness for pretty men and had never known how to say no to someone who needed help.