In Love with the Prince (of Darkness, That Is)

Taylor drove her home on his way to work the next morning, promising that he would pick her up on Friday and they could spend the weekend together.

Dreama and Gemini spent the week together, but Dreama never told her friend of the conversation she and Taylor had had at the restaurant, though she couldn't fully figure out why.

Her nights went past in a whirl at the club, and Friday came around faster than she expected. Taylor showed up on time, as usual, and Dreama said goodbye to Craig, who was once again the only one home. He waved from his spot on the couch, and then turned back to the television. Dreama rolled her eyes and skipped down the stairs with her bag.

Instead of out for dinner, like she had expected, Taylor took her straight back to his place.

"I have a surprise for you," he said when she was standing outside the front door. He covered her eyes with one hand and guided her by the shoulder, inside and down the stairs.

"Don't move," he commanded when they'd reached the bottom of the flight. "Keep your eyes shut."

Dreama heard him move around the room, heard the clicking of a lighter, and then Taylor stopped. "Okay. Open."

He'd set up a little table with flowers and candles, and there was a tiny, wrapped gift on Dreama's plate.

"What's all this for?" Dreama asked as she walked over to the table.

"Not yet. Open your present first. It's an early Christmas gift." Taylor sat down to watch her.

She eyed him suspiciously, but sat, too. She took the paper off slowly, and found a box with a charm inside. It was cute, and it couldn't have been cheap, she thought immediately, looking at the tiny silver D, with a minute diamond in the corner. There was a note.

Feel under the table.

Dreama raised an eyebrow, but Taylor nodded, so she groped around the underside of the table for a second and found another box. This one held an identical R and another note.

She followed the notes around the room, from on top of the cabinet to under the couch cushion, to inside Taylor's underwear drawer, and found the rest of her first name, an angel, a heart, a flower, a music note, and a dancer. The last note, inside the box with the dancer, told her to turn and sit back down. Taylor was holding a larger box in his hands, and Dreama had a feeling she knew what it was. She unwrapped it and found a silver chain-link bracelet. Holding the charms in one hand and the bracelet in the other, Dreama felt sure that she was going to cry.

"This is probably the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me," she told Taylor, and her voice was choked.

"Would you believe me if I said that you're worth it?"

"No."

"Then it's because I thought you needed it."

"For what?"

"For proof."

"Taylor, I told--"

"I know what you said," he interrupted. "And I know what I heard. And what I heard was you sounding totally unsure of what you were saying to me."

"Taylor, it's not--"

He held up a hand to stop her again, but had nothing else to say.

"It's beautiful," Dreama whispered after a few seconds, not knowing what else to say. "But why all the intrigue? You could have just given it to me."

He shrugged. "The thrill of the chase."

Dreama chuckled. "What about the rest of it?"

"I think we should leave that until later." He disappeared up the stairs for a few minutes, during which time Dreama hooked the charms onto the bracelet and wrapped it around her wrist. He returned with food, which Dreama ate impatiently and silently before demanding an answer to her question.

"It's my apology," he admitted. "I won't be here for Christmas."

"Why not?"

"I have to go with my parents to Orange County. They go every year at Christmas for the charity fundraiser and banquets."

"Well, why do you have to go? You just started a new job; surely they're not okay with you packing up and leaving."

Taylor sighed. "They don't have much choice. My uncle's the CEO."

"I didn't know that."

"It didn't seem important."

"Everything's important, Taylor," Dreama snapped, a little irritated.

"I'm sorry."

"That's not cutting it tonight. We've talked about this. You promised you'd think about spending Christmas with me and my brothers."

"I want to," he said, half-heartedly.

"Bullshit."

Taylor's face reddened. "I want to spend time with you," he tried again, with a little more conviction in his voice. "But I don't have a choice on this."

"What are you, sixteen?"

Taylor sighed. "I can't explain why, but I have to go with them. I need you to trust me."

"You've needed that a lot lately," Dreama spat back, getting angrier. "You know, I went to the CD store last week, to look for you."

The colour drained from his face. "You did?"

"Yeah. Imagine my surprise when I was told that there were a total of three employees, none of which were named Taylor."

"I told you, last week I'd already had this new job."

"Yet your hours hadn't changed."

"It was a transition period."

"Why do you insist on lying to me?" she cried, getting up to walk away from him. Taylor followed.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the job sooner."

"It's not about the job!"

"Well then what is it?" he retorted, just as frustrated as she was.

"It's that you don't tell me anything! You waited almost a week to tell me that you had a new job, you didn't tell me that the restaurant was owned by your uncle, you won't tell me why you can't say a simple 'no, thanks' to your parents, and you won't tell me why it's so important that I say I love you when you clearly don't feel the same!"

Taylor reeled as if she'd slapped him. "How can you even say that?"

"Should I go through the list again? Actually, maybe I'll just add a few more. You waited until after I met your friends--friends that you had never mentioned before--to inform me that Scott had cancer, you won't tell me why you're so uncomfortable with meeting my brothers, even though they know almost every detail of our relationship, and you won't tell me why you're so dead set against me meeting your parents!"

"Do we have to go over this again?"

"I don't understand why it's so hard!" Dreama cried.

"You're right, you don't understand," Taylor spat back.

"Then explain it to me! It's pretty fucking simple to say: 'Mom, Dad this is Dreama'--your girlfriend!"

"It's not what I'm going to say that I have an issue with!"

"What is that supposed to mean? Are you afraid I'm going to embarrass you or something? Because let me tell you, you wouldn't exactly fit in with my family either, but--"

"I didn't mean you!" he roared, cutting her off. Dreama fell silent, and watched him stand there, his chest heaving as they glared at each other. Taylor turned away and sat heavily on the chair by his desk. "It's not you," he repeated, his voice quieter than before. He swiveled the chair to face her. "Nothing that I do is ever good enough for my dad." Dreama noticed suddenly that his eyes were shining, and felt her own begin to sting. "And I love you," Taylor whispered hoarsely. "Please, don't make me choose."

Dreama picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "You already have," she replied, blinking tears from her eyes as she ran up the stairs.

"Dray!" Taylor cried, running up the stairs after her.

Dreama opened the door and blinked at the intensity of the sunset visible through the picture window in the living room. Taylor stopped on the top step. "Don't leave like this," he begged.

"Then tell them. Tell them what you just said to me. Tell me the truth for once!"

He closed his eyes tightly and sighed. "I can't tell them."

"Then I don't think I can stay, Taylor."

"Dray, please."

"I have to go," she forced out, and ran from the house.