The Naked Truth [Ryden]

Seventeen: Cockblocks United

"So how much do I owe you?"

Dallon licked his lips. "Um. Fifty?"

"An hour?" He nodded. "Sweetheart, you're worth more than that." Bert ran the backs of his fingers down the younger's cheek. "I've been with you for what, two hours? Let me give you two hundred at least."

"I don't need it." Dallon looked down at his lap, an oversized shirt being the only thing he wore.

"Then why did you stand on the street looking all pretty like ya did, hm?"

"I..." He shrugged. "I was lonely."

Bert scoffed. "Lonely, riiiiight."

Dallon put his head in his hands. "I used to be good at this." He exhaled shakily. "I used to be able to pick guys up in a heartbeat just by fluttering my eyelashes. I charged a lot but they didn't seem to care; it was worth it, they said. And then I met Brendon fucking Urie and he stole me away, stole my life, stole my money." He punched the bed in frustration, feeling Bert's arms wrap around him. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - I just -"

"It's okay. You sound like you've got a lot to get off your chest, kid." Dallon shrugged, so Bert shuffled them both backwards on the squeaky, filthy motel bed, pulling a bottle of whiskey from underneath it. He opened it and took a swig, before giving it to Dallon. "Here. Drink up. It'll make you feel better."

The young prostitute glugged at the amber liquid, shuddering in Bert's arms, and once he was done, he clasped the half-full bottle in both his hands. "Brendon Urie ruined my life." He admitted, though it didn't make him feel any better - in fact, he felt even worse. "He used me and he ruined me and he hurt me and I fucking fell in love with him." He began to cry, and Bert held him closer, glad that he'd actually put clothes on. "But Spencer...Spencer's the real monster."

"How so?"

"He's - he's mean, he's cruel, he's manipulative - I remember when Brendon first told me about him, he said that he was really sweet and would be so upset if he found out about us, but from what I've seen he's just an angry petulant child - and if he wants something, he'll get it, like he's getting Ryan Ross to -" he clapped his hands, still holding the whiskey bottle, to his mouth, glancing up at Bert.

"Getting Ryan Ross to what?" His eyebrows rose, feigning curiosity.

"Nothing. I'm not allowed to say."

"C'mon, you can trust me."

"No I can't. You're just some guy who's gonna pay me for sex."

Bert smirked. "Oh, so you do want paying?"

"Of course I do." Dallon gulped down yet more whiskey. "I'm a useless filthy prostitute, I always want the money." He shivered, closing his eyes. "It's all I'm good for. At least, that's what Spencer always says. He thinks I'm just in the way, that Ryan can't destroy Brendon if I'm there. But Brendon's perfectly capable of destroying himself. He doesn't need that dumb bitch. Seriously, like Ryan Ross likes to make people think he's all intelligent and shit, but he's not, he's vain and naïve and stupid. And I didn't think he'd ever be able to get Brendon to fall in love with him, but I guess he likes vain and naïve and stupid..." He hiccuped, tears streaming down his face. "Can I stay? I mean, I just, I don't want to go home." He looked up at Bert with wide, sad eyes. "Please?"

Bert fake-smiled in reassurance. "Yeah, sure."

~

It was one am when he got the call, and he slipped from the room, standing outside on the worn motel balcony as Dallon slept soundly on the bed. Bert answered his phone, not even bothering to say hello, simply grunting in greeting.