Masks by Jessica S

Title: Masks
Author: Jessica S
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Future Fic: She never knew who the person behind the mask was, but it was too late, she had already fell in love.
Disclaimer: Based on the characters, settings and situations created by Amy Sherman-Palladino.

Rory Gilmore stared at the unfamiliar women staring back at her in the mirror. The mask that she wore covered her eyes and changed the shape of her mouth. She lifted a finger and traced the pale blue sparkles that outlined the snowy white mask. It was real. She was actually going to a masked ball. She couldn't believe it. The Ivy League schools had decided to once again host a gathering. Rory didn't even know why she was going. She had always prided herself over the fact that she was studious and she didn't like company. However, now she was going to attend an event where matchmaking was evident. After all the events in her life, she needed a night of no commitments.

She once again stared at her reflection. Her soft, dark hair had been let loose, a tiara graced the top of her head. The neckline of her fancy blue and white dress plunged low, revealing more then usual. The dress hugged her waist and immediately flared out, the floaty material kissing the floor. She smiled. She was ready.

Taking one last look at the mirror, she was about to turn away and walk out the door when she spotted her bare neck. She frowned and rummaged through her jewelry box. She lifted a delicate silver necklace and smiled. It was the perfect finishing touch. The cool metal caressed her skin as she put it on. She smiled in satisfaction. Picking up her purse, she turned around and went out the door. She was going to have fun at this masked ball, as silly as she thought it would be. Maybe she would even meet Prince Charming.

Tristan Dugrey stood at the top of the stairs to the ballroom in disdain. His lips twisted into an amused smirk as he observed the mulitudes of people below him. This event was a joke. Why he came, he had no idea. He could get his own dates, he didn't need a mask. However, he was bored with the girls at Princeton. He had already dated most of them, and he found them as amusing as sitting in a chair. He wanted to find that connection, that spark he had felt only once before. He thought he should give it a chance, and even if he didn't succeed, he didn't care. One more girl wouldn't make difference with his track record. So he had come to the ball. If he met someone there, at least his parents would approve. Someone who attended an Ivy League school would be worthy of their only son. A Dugrey mustn't marry someone of a lower class. Everyone was high class here.

He rolled his eyes, feeling a bit self conscious as he descended down the steps. He felt stupid in his tuxedo with tails, and his white mask that accentuated his cheekbones and firm lips. Straightening his shoulders, he scanned the room for his victim like a graceful predator hunting for his prey.

His stomach growled and he sighed. Did every other player feel hungry as he searched for his victim? Tristan knew he wasn't really a player, but he always felt like one. He just liked the dating game, and he wanted to try to make that connection. That was the whole point wasn't it? That's what lonely people do, they're always looking for a connection. Tristan felt his stomach growl again, and he rolled his eyes. First stop, refreshment table.

Rory sipped her cocktail, her eyes roaming the crowd. She stood near the refreshment table, not quite ready to mingle just yet. She felt apprehensive about the fact that she could be talking to anyone. She didn't know the person behind the mask. She thought that tonight would be the night where she could be someone else, someone that would be bold and agressive. The person she wished she could be sometimes.

A couple of men had already asked her to dance, but she had politely refused. She was suspicious, she didn't want to be dancing with a maniacal freak who might have just slipped into the ballroom. It was possible. The security wasn't that tough to break through. Anybody could have swiped a student id, with the mask, it was difficult to be truly identified.

So she had refused four invitations. It was the safe thing to do. She couldn't understand how any girl would give her consent to a total stranger, even if it was only one dance.

She glanced over to the other people crowding over the refreshment table. Most of them were other young women, obviously wary of the prospect of mingling with strangers. There were only about seven young men at the table. Three of them were going from lady to lady, asking for one dance. Most of the ladies refused, but after a couple of tries, they consented. They must have been weak, to give in so easily. Rory would have never given in, one reply was enough, and you shouldn't back down or cave.

Rory turned her attention to the males around the table. Three of them were obviously the outcasts. They were overweight, had the glasses, and had been eating non-stop since the beginning of the ball. Of course, they had the mannerisms that would even make her grandmother proud. However, one young man in particular caught her attention.

The expertly tailored tuxedo screamed money. He wasn't on a scholarship, that was evident. He didn't seem like an outcast. Even from a reasonable distance, Rory could see that he was in good shape. His blond hair was tousled, his cheekbones sculpted to perfection. He fit the stereotypical description of a rich boy to a T. His lips were curved into an amused smirk, his eyes alert. He looked like a hunter, looking for his prey. Or in this matter, a cocky Ivy League boy looking for another conquest.

He reminded her of him.

Rory had never liked Tristan Dugrey very much. He was too self-centered and smug. The only time he was bearable was the short time after that kiss. He had seemed like a good ally, for his attitude had changed. She could still vividly remember their conversations in that brief period of time that they had been friends. He just had to ruin that perfectly good friendship by asking her out on a date. It would have been perfectly harmless to have accepted, but she still had feelings for Dean, so she refused. After that, they went back to their ferocious bantering and fiery arguments.

She would never forget Tristan Dugrey. He was as unforgettable as Dean was to her. Dean had been her first boyfriend, she had experienced her first kiss with him, he had been many of her firsts. You never forget your first, that's what everybody says. That's why she never forget Tristan.

Before that, nobody had brought out that passionate side of her. He was the one who had brought out her wit, her ability to banter. He was the first one to really, truly annoy her. He was the first person to totally puzzle her and surprise her. Without him, she wouldn't have decided to study criminal justice. How could she forget someone like him?

The young man Rory had been watching caught her gaze. Rory mentally scolded herself, she didn't mean to stare. Rory glared at him, and averted her gaze. She coolly resumed sipping her cocktail, her eyes darting around and observing the people.

Tristan smirked. Even when he was masked, he still oozed massive appeal. He rolled his eyes as the girl who had been watching him turned away. She acted uninterested as she sipped her cocktail, but Tristan could tell that she was frazzled. She seemed like the kind of girl who would die before she was caught staring at a boy.

Unless her upper face features were scarred, this girl was extremely pretty. Even from a distance he could tell her eyes were a beautiful blue. They were like perfect, deep sapphires, which contrasted against her sleek, chestnut brown hair. Her lips were the colour of rose blossoms, curved into a smile of amusement. She seemed to be observing everyone, just like he had been doing a few moments earlier. Now he was just watching her.

Another young man in a navy suit had just asked her something, a dance most likely. He almost laughed at the expression on her face. His deduction had been correct. She didn't know what she was doing here. She was afraid of not knowing. She was suspicious of their intentions, and the person behind the mask. He saw the young man nod and walk away. Of course she had rejected him. He had found his conquest for the night.

"No thank you." Rory answered to the young man who had asked her to dance. She didn't give a reason, she just said it. She wasn't in the mood for a babbling spree. She took another sip of her cocktail, only to find it empty. Had she drank that much already? It didn't feel like it. She felt someone's gaze on her, and she turned around, only to meet his gaze. He had a classic smirk on his face, and she could tell he was amused. She turned away once again, she knew that if she kept making eye contact, he would soon come over. She sighed in frustration. She shouldn't have come.

"If you want to talk to me that badly, maybe you should have the guts to come up to me instead of just staring," a male voice said in a seductive whisper beside her ear, "Didn't your mother teach you not to stare?"

Rory jumped slightly, whirling around and furthering the distance between them, she looked at him disdainfully, "I wasn't staring."

He smirked, "Your eyes were fixitated on me. I don't know what you would call that."

Rory rolled her eyes, two could play the game of bantering, "I saw something in your teeth."

His smile flickered, but it remained, "Maybe you could show me where."

"No thank you," she said primly.

He laughed, showing off his perfectly white teeth, "I know I don't have anything stuck in my teeth. The only thing I've digested was a cookie and a glass of punch."

Rory chose not to respond. He would tire out soon, and move onto his next victim. She knew his type. Of course, Tristan had kept bugging her until he did get a response. Rory hoped that he was not that type of guy.

"I think for that, you owe me a dance," he said with a small chuckle.

Rory stole a glance at him. She wanted to put him in his place, "No thank you."

Rory expected him to leave, but he didn't. This one was a stubborn one. Rory waited for him to speak, and it took him a couple of moments before he broke the silence between them. "What's your major?" he asked.

"Criminal Justice. You?" Rory asked. That instant, she regretted asking the question back. She had just given him consent to have a conversation.

From the cocky smile on his face, he knew what she was thinking. "Political science," he answered back casually, "School?"

"Harvard." Rory said, her voice neutral and disinterested. Inside, she was burning with curiousity. From her days at Chilton, she had learned to master the facade that everyone had perfected by that time.

"Princeton," he said, answering a silent question. After a beat of silence he asked, "What's your name?"

"Do you want an alias or the one on my birth certificate?" Rory asked saucily.

"Either one will do," he answered simply. His smothering blue eyes staring right into hers. Blue on Blue. Rory felt as if he was looking into her soul.

Rory found it a bit hard to breath, "Mary." She said. The alias slipped out like water running over stones in a bubbling brook. This person reminded her so much of Tristan, that she couldn't help it.

His eyes danced with amusement, and he grinned, "John."

Rory could tell from the way he said it that John wasn't his real name. "I can see that you know that's just an alias," he whispered, "Like I can tell that yours is an alias as well."

"Oh, now you just know things about me?" She retorted.

"More then you know," he said with a grin.

"Then enlighten me," she said sarcastically.

He smiled, and gently took her hand in his. His strong, tan hands nearly swallowing her delicate ones. Rory froze. She never thought that it was possible to feel that spark with just one touch. She calmed down, and put on that neutral expression once more. He didn't notice her slip. "You have ink stains on the sides of your pinkie fingers. That tells me you're studious."

Rory was shocked by his skill of observation. She pulled her hand away from his grip and looked at her fingers, "I do, don't I?"

"It was one of the first things I noticed about you," he said charmingly.

"Really?" she asked in amusement.

"That, and your eyes," he said.

"My eyes?" Rory asked.

"You have beautiful eyes," he said, lowering his voice. Rory's breath caught in her throat. He smiled, "They're like perfect sapphires."

Rory shook her head, "You must be experienced."

"What makes you say that?" he said, his eyes were laughing.

"You know the buttons to push. If I was just a regular girl, I would have been won over." Rory said, "But I'm not your regular girl."

"I can see that you're not," he said smoothly, "Tell me about your lifestyle growing up."

"Are you sure you can't tell by just looking at me?" she joked. Her lips curving up into a slight smile.

"My powers of deduction aren't as powerful as those of Sherlock Holmes," he said with a smirk, "Or I would have majored in forensic science."

She smiled, she could feel herself letting down her guard. "I didn't grow up as rich."

"So you're on a scholarship," he deduced.

"Yes," Rory said, "How about you?"

"No," he said with a shrug, "I could of gotten one I suppose. I was 5th in the class, but I didn't bother applying for one."

"I see." Rory murmured.

"My parents had the money. We were one of the most prominent family in the society. I didn't want to take away any of the scholarship money of a more unprivileged student," he said.

"How gracious of you." Rory said. There was a tinge of sarcasm in her voice, but she thought it was pretty nice of him.

There was a long moment of silence. A quick song started over the speakers, and his smile grew brighter, "May I have this dance, Mary?"

Rory flushed. Should she dance with this man who reminded her so much of her high school nemesis? She pondered over the situation, she could feel his eyes on her. After a long moment, she smiled and looked at him directly in the eye, "Yes."

"How gracious of you," she had said, rolling her eyes. Her voice was tinged with sarcasm, and Tristan almost laughed at the expression on her face. He knew that she thought he was obnoxious. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words. There was a beat of silence, and all he could hear was the music and the chatter.

Finally he asked, "May I have this dance, Mary?" He made sure to stress her alias, making the invitation more suggestive.

He saw her blush and he smirked. Girls like her were so easy to flatter. He could tell that the wheels in her mind were turning as she pondered over the situation. He could almost hear her rejection. But to his surprised, when she opened her mouth, she said, "Yes."

Tristan was still with shock for a moment before he recovered, praying that she didn't notice his momentary relapse. He didn't say anything, he just shot her a bright smile, and took her hand. He felt a jolt of electricity that went through him as he felt her soft skin. Few girls ever had that effect on him.

As he lead her to the dance floor, he couldn't really think of anything else. He was barely aware of the music, mutely following the beat. He was a good dancer, and he knew it too. He had years of experience.

But he was astonished. Never in all his years did he meet someone who could dance like "Mary" did. It was as if they were made to dance with each other. A thousand words could never express the feeling he had inside of him as they danced silently. Whirling, twirling, keeping to the beat of the music. She fit perfectly into his arms.

Tristan felt his breath catch as he stared into her beautiful blue eyes. They were in their own world. Her eyes were twinkling brightly as she laughed. At that sound, Tristan crashed back into the world and the feeling of dizziness returned. He felt as if he was floating.

He never thought that he would ever feel this way. He never thought it was possible to feel this way. He always thought authors made up the description of love, but as he danced with her, he understood. It was like an epiphany.

The last song ended and a new one started up. Tristan wanted to hit the DJ when it wasn't a slow song. He just wanted to gather her in his arms. Instead, all he could hear was Jessica Simpson crooning one of her usual pop songs.

"Do they have to play songs that are ages old?" she asked.

Her voice surprised him. They didn't talk during the last dance, and he found himself missing her voice. It was ridiculous. Tristan Dugrey wasn't supposed to act like this, not when it came to girls. He found it difficult to find his voice, but his voice sounded surprisingly normal. It betrayed any of the emotional turmoil he was feeling. "They want us to feel sixteen again," he answered simply.

"Why?" she asked.

The answer seemed obvious enough to him. "Carefree days."

"My days weren't that carefree," she scoffed. "Were yours?"

"Nope."

"What's up with Jessica Simpson these days anyway?" she asked with an amused smile.

Tristan laughed. "She's probably preaching to little girls, telling them to wait until marriage."

"That, and asking herself why she broke up with Nick Lachey," she said with a tinkling laugh, "and trying to become the next Amy Grant."

"I can't imagine her going country or christian."

"Me neither," she admitted.

Their feet were still moving. Tristan found it difficult to talk and dance at the same time, but he was a male. It was expected. According to his mother, men didn't know how to do two things at once. Eventually the conversation dwindled, and they continued to dance in unison. After another fast song, a slow song graced the air. Finally.

She stopped, an uncertain frown on her lips. Tristan knew that she didn't know if she wanted to be that close to him.

"May I have this dance?" Tristan whispered in a low voice.

A small smile graced her delicate features, and she settled into his arms. He pulled her close and inhaled the sweet tropical scent of her hair. He felt light-headed at their closeness. Tristan closed his eyes, and simply enjoyed the moment.

She felt safe in his arms. It was ironic actually, she never even saw his face. His whole face anyway. Yet in spite of that, Rory felt confused. She didn't like the whirl of emotions beating inside her soul. The feeling was indescribable. She sighed and snuggled deeper into his embrace. It was strange, she never found it the least bit uncomfortable. He held her just right, and she fit perfectly against him. If she didn't know better, she would have said that they were made for each other.

But that was impossible.

She couldn't comprehend the fact that she was made for a person she met at a masked ball. It just sounded too much like a fairy tale to be true. You didn't just go and meet your Prince Charming at a masked ball. It was almost impossible. Fate and destiny simply just didn't happen. She once believed that Dean was her soulmate, but that was before he dumped her after a four year relationship.

It had been a month since that relationship ended, but the pain was still there. Over the years, she had become dependent on him. Their identities had been melded into one. RoryandDean. DeanandRory. She hated to think that she was one of those girls who fell apart after a breakup, but she was. She had come to this ball, wanting to spend time with a guy who had no commitments. It was easier that way. She would be spared the heartache.

Now that idea seemed impossible.

Even though she didn't even know what he looked like, she was captivated, and the whole idea of not getting hurt had gone down the drain. Was it possible to fall in love so quickly? He didn't feel the same way, at least, she didn't think so. He was like Tristan. She was probably just another conquest.

She didn't want to think about that possibility, so she just closed her eyes and lay her head on his shoulder. She just wanted to savour the moment. She sighed in exasperation when she realized the song was over and a fast song replaced it quickly. The DJ sure knew how to break a mood.

"The DJ sure knows how to break a mood," he muttered, echoing her thoughts.

Rory couldn't help but smile, "Exactly what I was thinking."

He looked down at her with a quizzical look, "Really?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we should lock him up in a closet and DJ this dance ourselves," he said jokingly, "How does that sound?"

"Perfect." she said nodding in mock agreement.

"Would that be considered kidnapping?" he asked.

"Probably."

"Drats," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

There was an awkward beat as Rory looked into his eyes. She quickly snapped out of it, and said, "Do you want to go outside? To the balcony?" She was shocked with her own boldness.

From the look on his face, he was shocked as well. It took him a moment to fully comprehend her invitation. Rory held her breath as he opened his mouth to reply.

"Sounds like the perfect plan."

"This is the third balcony we've tried," Tristan said with a groan, "Think we'll be successful?"

She laughed, "Maybe."

Tristan grinned and opened the door. He stuck his head inside, and quickly pulled in out, "Nope."

"And they said that third time's the charm," she joked, "maybe the next one won't have a couple making out like animals."

They got to the next balcony and he grinned, "Your turn to check."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I've already been scarred for life."

She couldn't help but smile. She turned the door knob and stuck her head outside. She smiled, "Mission accomplished."

She stepped outside, a blast of heat greeted her. She walked to the railing and looked over the edge. Tristan quickly shut the door and went to stand beside her. Glancing around, he had a clear view of the other balconies they tried, and he laughed.

She looked at him in surprise, "What's so funny?"

"The couple's making it like rabbits," he answered, "That's what."

Rory giggled at their profiles, "How could they just do that in plain view?"

"They don't seem aware that it's in plain view," Tristan observed.

"I guess you're right," she agreed. After a moment, she smiled. "This feels strange."

"Why's that?" Tristan asked curiously.

She didn't answer for a moment. "I feel like my parents. They always used to spy on people from my grandparents' balcony."

He grinned, "It must be generational."

She smiled, "I don't plan to conceive on a balcony."

"You were conceived on a balcony?"

"Uh huh," she answered softly.

"Wanna continue with that tradition?" Tristan asked with a cocky grin.

She shot him a dirty look, "You're impossible."

"Thank you, I take that as a compliment."

"So, when can we unmask ourselves?" she asked, "I mean, what's the tradition?"

Tristan smirked, "Why, I thought you would realize that Ivy League schools do it Cinderella style."

"Midnight."

"Midnight." he confirmed.

"It's eleven right now," she told him.

"Ah, only sixty long minutes left."

"We could always cheat," she said mischievously.

"Ah, but that would take the fun out of it, wouldn't it?"

"I guess."

There was a long beat of silence and Tristan racked his brain desperately for something to talk about. Finally, he found the question he would ask Rory, if she was here. "Do you like to read?"

Her eyes lit up brightly, her lips curved into a happy smile. Tristan knew this was the right question to ask. "I love to read!"

"Yeah? Are you reading any books now?" Tristan asked.

She chuckled, "If you knew me, you wouldn't ask that question."

He smiled, "Well, I don't know you."

"Right. I'm re-reading Pride & Prejudice for the 100th time."

"Jane Austen was never my type," he said with a grin.

She looked wistful for a second, "That's what my ex-boyfriend said too."

Tristan mentally slapped himself, he didn't mean to remind her of an old boyfriend. After a long moment of awkward silence, she asked, "Are you reading anything right now?"

"I'm reading The Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis," he answered. "They're interesting."

She laughed. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"CS Lewis?" she questioned, then said, "You never struck me as the religious type."

"That's because I'm not."

"Ah, then why are you reading The Screwtape Letters?" she asked.

"Because the whole concept is interesting. His theology is interesting," Tristan answered.

"I see."

Another moment of silence, and finally he said with a bitter laugh, "I've always thought that devils existed."

"Why's that?" she asked rather curiously.

"It was..." he trailed off, "nicer to blame devils then God."

"About your problems?"

"Yeah," he answered, he looked into her large blue eyes and smiled a bit, "I must sound so cryptic."

"Just a little."

He shook his head and put both hands on the railing of the balcony and looked down. "Let's say my childhood wasn't a nice walk in the park."

"Whose childhood was?" she questioned.

Tristan shot her a tight smile, "I guess you're right."

After another awkward pause, she asked, "What made your childhood unsatisfactory?"

He shrugged, "My parents never paid any attention to me really. I guess that just goes with the territory. Rich kids don't have attentive parents."

"And poor kids have attentive parents."

"Exactly," he smiled a little, "I know that my parents loved me and all, but they weren't around to show me."

"Just like my dad," she said, "he was never around."

"We have something in common," he said with a grin.

"That we do."

"May I continue with my tragic story please?" he asked jokingly.

"You have my permission."

"Thank you," he said, he looked down again and continued, "so my parents basically ignored me. We never had any of those family dinners you always see on TV. I always spent Christmas watching TV in my room while my parents attended parties and consumed plenty of martinis. I guess in exchange for their time, they graced me with anything and everything."

He looked at her, wanting to see if she thought he was just taking everything out of proportion, but she looked sympathetic. Encouraged, he continued, "I guess I was expected to be perfect. I had to be on the top three of the class or my father would hit me...and threaten to disown me." Tristan could feel his voice grow thick and he struggled to gain some control. He didn't even know why he was telling her this. He never told anyone this.

"I'm sorry," she whispered simply, touching his shoulder.

Tristan's eyes met hers, as he searched for any mockery. He found none. He was swimming in eyes full of sincerity. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I never tell anyone this."

"I guess I'm just easy to talk to," she whispered.

Tristan smiled sadly, "I guess you are."

Their lips were inches apart and Tristan glanced down at her parted lips. He had never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his life. He leaned over, as her eyes closed. He could tell that she was anticipating the feel of his lips against hers. At the last moment, he stopped. He didn't want to ruin this by rushing.

"Anyways, I guess my childhood wasn't that bad. At least I had an active social life." he quickly said.

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Her eyes flew open and she backed away. Tristan could tell she was disappointed by the look on her face. She looked devasted. Finally, she said, "You mean an active dating life."

He was confused for a second, but he realized what she was referring to, "How'd you guess?"

"You have the looks."

His smiled and he took a step towards her. He had shed his true self and he was back, "You think I'm hot, eh?"

She looked flustered, "Well...uh...I guess," she squeaked.

He cornered her against the railing of the balcony and grinned. He touched her silky smooth hair, letting it run through his fingers like water. Smirking, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Truth is, I think you're quite hot yourself."

Rory shivered at the sensation of his smooth skin brushing against hers as he leaned down to whisper something in her ear. "Truth is, I think you're quite hot yourself."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. Rory couldn't breath. Was this guy for real? Rory's eyes felt heavy, but she didn't want to close her eyes. She did that before when he was about to kiss her, and she had made a fool of herself then. The pleasure of being in his arms were slowly taking over her senses. She simply couldn't think rationally anymore.

She took several deep breaths, feeling so protected in his arms. She could feel his warm breath mingling with her hair, blowing it slightly from where it fell on her shoulders. Rory sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, she couldn't think of anything but them.

Rory could hear the music from inside the ballroom. She couldn't hear the words, but the slow tune created a romantic atmosphere. He hadn't moved to kiss her yet, and Rory wasn't sure that he would, but she suddenly found herself wishing for it to happen.

His hand slowly crept up her back, pulling her tighter against him. He slowly lifted his head from her shoulder, and kissed her forehead, his mask scraping lightly against her soft skin. She felt a burning sensation as his lips touched her skin. She restrained herself from grabbing his head and kissing him herself.

Rory slid her arms around her neck, lifting her head from his shoulder and stared into his blue eyes, her fingers lightly tapping the back of his neck. Her breath caught as he traced the exposed skin on her back with his finger. She felt herself grow dizzy, and she laid her head back onto his shoulder. She felt his strong body against hers, and she felt as if she could spend the rest of her life with this person. She could feel his rapidly beating heart, and she smiled, maybe he felt the same way about her.

Rory lifted her head from his shoulder again and stared at his lips. She wanted his to brush against hers so badly. She wetted her dry lips with her tongue. She was confused. What if he didn't want her as much as she wanted him? This was a masked ball after all.

Rory felt her breath catch once more as she felt him place a kiss on her neck. He placed a trail of dry kisses up her neck, then on her chin. He continued to kiss every part of her face except her lips.

He pulled back again, his smothering blue eyes meeting hers. Rory suddenly felt bold, and she leaned over to place her own set of kisses on his neck. She parted her lips and let her tongue trail over his skin. She smiled in satisfaction when a soft moan escaped his lips.

He lifted her chin with his finger, and slowly moved, brushing his lips lightly with hers. This was driving her crazy, Rory wanted him to deepen the kiss, she didn't want to go through this torture. As he brushed his lips against hers, his thumb was gently stroking her flushed skin.

Rory couldn't take it any longer, and she pulled his mouth to hers. The kiss was hard, passionate and sweet at the same time. She had never experienced a kiss like this in her life before. People always said that you could tell who you were supposed to be for the rest of your life with just once kiss.

She had never believed it.

Until now.

Rory could feel him pull slowly away, his breath labored and heavy. She didn't want it to stop, but by now, she couldn't breathe anyway.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Wow," he agreed softly. Their faces were only inches apart, and Rory found herself getting lost in his eyes.

"You know the feeling when you get off a roller coaster? I'm seriously all tingly right now," he whispered softly.

After a moment, Rory replied, "Tickets please."

A devilish grin appeared on his face, and he leaned over for another breathtaking kiss. Rory shivered as a spark of pleasure coursed through her. She leaned into his kiss, kissing back for all she was worth. His thumb slowly caressed her bare skin, making her shiver once more. He had amazing hands. Rory closed her eyes as he parted her lips with his tongue. Suddenly, the chimes of midnight sounded, ruining the atmosphere.

He abruptly pulled away in shock. After a long moment, he whispered, "That's the cue."

"For revealing our true selves," Rory whispered. She felt apprehensive, yet excited at the same time. She was going to see the face of the person she had fallen in love with.

"Who'll go first?" he asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Let's do it together," she said encouragingly, giving him a nervous smile.

"At the count of three?" he asked.

"Yes," Rory answered. She touched her mask, ready to take it off. The sparkles felt rough to her touch, and she ached to let go.

"One," he said slowly, doing the same with his mask.

"Two," she whispered.

"Three."

Tristan tore off his mask, and dropped it onto the ground in a mangled mess. It was an expensive mask, but at the moment, Tristan didn't even care. All he cared about was the fact that he was going to see the women he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was a rather rash decision, considering that it was based on a kiss. But Tristan knew that a kiss was all you needed.

It took his a moment to focus his eyes at the girl standing in front of her. She was as beautiful as he thought she would be. Her blue eyes were fringed with dark lashes that swept her smooth, rosy cheeks. Her rose blossomed lips were curved into a shy smile, yet there was a confused look in her eyes. She looked so familiar, as if he had seen her before.

"Rory?" Tristan asked in shock.

"Tristan?" she squeaked. The smile had vanished from her lips. Her gaze was full of humiliation and anger.

They both gaped at each other in shock. Tristan's mind whirled with emotion as he realized that the girl he had felt the spark with earlier, had been the same one he had loved so long ago.

"How could you do this to me?" she demanded. Her voice penetrated through his thoughts and brought him back.

"Excuse me?" he choked out.

"How could you just disguise yourself and pretend to be someone else?" she screeched, her voice was full of anger and rage.

Tristan scoffed, a mocking tone taking over his voice that was so loving moments ago, "Get over yourself!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked accusingly.

"Like I went through all that trouble just for you to kiss me," Tristan said, rolling his eyes, "Really realistic, Rory."

Rory looked lost for a moment, but she quickly recovered, "Maybe not. I guess this trip was just your plan to seduce an innocent girl, and then just leave her heads over heels, huh?"

When Tristan didn't answer, she smiled bitterly, "I thought so. I guess I'm the one with the bad luck around here. I thought that you were really talking from the heart."

"I was," he muttered. "Every single thing."

"You're just so melodramatic," she scoffed, "Hitting?"

"Slapping," Tristan said, wishing that he had never told her anything.

Rory just rolled her eyes, "Like I said, melodramatic. I should have known."

"I was being melodramatic?" Tristan asked in disbelief, "I was just telling the truth! Thanks for being so sympathetic."

"Well, if you were supposed to be in the top three of the class, let's say you didn't try hard to prevent the slapping," Rory said.

Tristan glared at her, "If you recall, I was always either third or fourth."

"And that's my fault?"

"Yes," Tristan said, his blue eyes glowering at her.

Rory glared at him, "How was it my fault?"

"If you hadn't come to Chilton, you wouldn't have messed up my life," Tristan said. He wasn't even referring to his father's dictating demands, he was talking about the way she had left him so lost and confused about his feelings towards her.

Rory looked like hurt at his accusation, but she recovered quickly, "Was it my fault that I was smarter then you?"

Tristan didn't try to deny it, but he did say, "Good luck."

"How dare you talk about good luck?" Rory asked in disbelief, "You, a Dugrey. A prominent family with money flowing in like water."

"And you are a Gilmore, yet another wealthy family in Hartford," Tristan said pointedly.

"I don't have a Mercedes or whatever you have. I don't drive a car with a customized licensed plate which probably has 'rich ass' on it. I drive a Honda, with regular plates. What does that say about my financial resources?"

"It says that you're too proud to ask your grandparents for money. Anyway, I don't drive a Mercedes, I drive a black BMW. Oh yes, and my license plate says 'Dugrey' not 'rich ass'."

"Whatever," Rory scoffed, "Both are high class cars."

"Your Honda also tells me that you came to Harvard on a scholarship. Which, might I add, came from your good luck."

Rory looked outraged, "Good luck?" she screeched in disbelief, "My scholarship came from hard work and commitment!"

"And the fact that Max Medina was heads over heels in love with your mother," Tristan said. He knew it was a low blow, but he was confused. He was tired of Rory Gilmore. He was tired of her hold over him. He wanted to be free. He had thought that he was finally over her tonight, but he was wrong once again.

"My grades had nothing to do with the fact that my mother dated Mr. Medina for a long time," she said, her voice trembling.

"Maybe not, then it must have been the good luck."

"You think my life was full of good luck?" Rory challenged angrily, "Think again. I was born out of wedlock, my father was never around either. We're tie on that one. Let's see, I didn't grow up with money handed to me like candy. I had to go to my grandparents for charity, just to go to Chilton. My dad's grandparents hated me for ruining my father's future. Is there anything else?"

"You didn't have a neglective mother," Tristan provided.

"The only bright light in my otherwise dark life," she said.

Tristan couldn't handle it anymore, "You call that bad luck?"

"Yes I do!"

Tristan stepped forward, his eyes blue eyes flashing, "You know what I call bad luck? When you meet this girl, who knocks your socks off in the midst of your active dating life. Suddenly, you're so confused because you have never felt this way about anyone before."

"You broke the Golden Rule," Rory said, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

Tristan was confused. "Golden rule?"

"Don't you ever watch movies?" Rory asked, losing the hard look in her eyes momentarily.

Tristan shrugged, "Yeah."

"Don't you ever get anything from them?" Rory asked impatiently, "The Golden Rule. The rule which states that school players mustn't fall in love."

Tristan felt his face grow hot, and he glared at her angrily, "I was NOT a player. I mean, okay, I dated a lot, but I did not cheat on girls while I was dating them."

Rory laughed sarcastically, "You weren't a player? Yeah right. You had a new conquest every single week!"

"They were not conquests!" he defended himself.

"What were they?"

"Girlfriends," he stated.

"Girlfriends?" Rory asked in disbelief, "A girlfriend is someone you date more then a week."

"I dated my girlfriends more then one week."

Rory shook her head in disgust, "Okay then, what was your longest relationship?"

Tristan didn't want to answer that. He knew that she would shoot him down with yet another sarcastic comment. He was tired of this. He just wanted to turn away, walk out the door, and forget this night happened. He knew that Rory Gilmore would never fall in love with him. Rory Gilmore would always think of him as the jerk who bugged her at Chilton. He wanted to leave. He couldn't stand it here on the balcony any longer. If Rory Gilmore didn't want him here, he didn't want to be here. It hurt too much to look at her. Trying to get away as fast as possible, he said with a dull tone, "I don't know."

Rory rolled her eyes, "Too many girlfriends to know. Anyway, continue on with your "tragic" story."

Tristan didn't really want to answer, he didn't want to stick around anymore, but he wanted Rory to know how much he had liked her, and she deserved to feel bad about something. Tristan took a step towards her once more, "You really want me to tell you my tragic story? The event that just messed up my whole life?"

"Yeah! Tell me your sad story. Tell me your event of bad luck. Tell me what event messed up your whole life."

Tristan glared at her, and whispered venomously, "I fell in love."

Rory rolled her eyes, "Okay, falling in love is a good thing."

"It is better to have loved and lost, then to never loved at all" Tristan quoted, then he frowned, "My ass."

"You've never been in love then," Rory said, "being in love is wonderful. You feel as if the world falls away and changes just for you to be happy."

Tristan wrinkled his eyebrow, "Look, you may be smart, but love is not always pleasant. Love hurts. Especially if the person you loved did not love you back."

"That must have hurt your ego," she said. Rory still seemed clueless that the person he was talking about was her. She was just as clueless as she was a couple of years back.

Tristan shook his head in disgust, "It wasn't about my ego. It wasn't about losing my reputation. It was about her loving me back, because I loved her so much."

"Yeah, I'm sure it was," Rory said, rather sarcastically, "I bet it was all a game to you."

Tristan stared at her, his eyes vacant as he remembered, "It started out as a game...but at the end it wasn't. I had fallen for her. Hard. But she didn't want me. She had a boyfriend, and she was in love with him. I was always the big mistake. This was a girl who was almost perfect. She was pretty, in an innocent way. She was smart, she was modest, and she never knew how pretty she really was. I never really got over her. I was always waiting...waiting to fall in love again so I could forget her."

Rory was silent. Finally, she said, "She must have been pretty amazing for a guy like Tristan Dugrey to fall in love with her. I still don't see why it was such bad luck. Everyone goes through love problems."

Tristan stared at her, amazed by her ignorance. "Don't you get it Rory? The bad luck was falling in love with you. The bad luck was falling in love with a girl tonight, a girl who I thought would help me forget you. Ironic isn't it? The girl I thought would help me forget turned out to be you. I'm destined to love you forever, and you're destined to never love me back."

Tristan could tell that Rory was at lost for words. He shook his head and chuckled bitterly, "I'll leave you alone now. If you don't stop me, I'll walk out of your life."

He turned on his heel and walked towards the door. His hand touched the cool metal of the doorknob. He paused, needing for her to stop him. When the response didn't come, he turned the doorknob and opened the door.

"Wait..." Rory whispered.

Tristan felt relieved, like a burden had been lifted up from his shoulders. Tristan turned around to look at her beautiful face. He waited for her to say something, but she didn't. She looked lost and confused. Tristan just shook his head, "You almost did it, Rory. I should have known that you would never love me."

Tristan's heart felt empty. He could feels tears threatening to slip down his cheeks. He was tired of this. He was tired of being in love with Rory Gilmore. He closed his eyes, opened the door, and with one step, he walked out of her life.

Tristan laughed bitterly, staring at Rory with a pained look in his eyes. "I'll leave you alone now. If you don't stop me, I'll walk out of your life."

Rory felt numb as she watched him turn on his heel and walk away. She couldn't form any coherant thought. She wanted to stop him, she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and just kiss him. But she knew she couldn't do that. She couldn't just kiss him, not until he explained himself.

How could he just tell her he had loved her since highschool without so much as a warning? Didn't he realize how shocked she would have been? Rory didn't even have a clue that Tristan Dugrey had actually liked her. Even if she did know that he had real feelings for her, Rory wasn't sure that she would have returned his feelings. Tristan Dugrey was cocky, she didn't like cocky boys.

Yet, she couldn't deny the thrill of his touch. She couldn't deny how good it felt to be in his arms. She couldn't deny the fire she felt as his lips brushed against hers. But most of all, she couldn't deny the feeling inside her heart.

She had fallen in love with him. Unintentionally, she had fallen in love with her arch nemesis.

She couldn't let him leave now. She had never felt so deeply about someone in her life. She had thought she was in love before, but with Tristan, it was different. If this wasn't love, then Rory didn't know what was. She had to stop him from walking out of her life.

"Wait..." she blurted out softly.

Tristan whirled around at the sound of her voice. His posture relaxed and his eyes sparkled. He stared adoringly at her, his gaze radiated with love. A small smile graced his lips, showing how relieved he really was. He looked like a little boy, gifted with a balloon. He didn't look like the Tristan Dugrey she knew at Chilton.

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. She opened her mouth to say something, anything. She wanted to tell him her confused feelings. She wanted to tell him how much she really loved him. But no words came out. She couldn't form how she felt for him. There was no possible way. How could you tell someone how much you cared for them, when you were telling them how much you hated them just a few seconds ago? It just didn't make sense. Rory tried to form some words, to prevent him from leaving once again.

She couldn't do it.

He stared at her, the smile on his lips quickly vanished. He looked hurt, the light in his gorgeous blue eyes fading. Rory willed herself to say something, to make him smile once more, but it was like she was frozen in time. She couldn't move. She simply couldn't.

Tristan just shook his head sadly, "You almost did it, Rory. I should have known that you would never love me."

He turned and began to walk away. Rory wanted to scream and shout. She wanted to throw herself at his feet, she wanted to make him stay. She didn't want him to leave, he had jumped to conclusions too quickly.

But she couldn't move.

The balcony door slammed shut with a thud. Rory gazed longingly at his figure through the glass door. Just when he disappeared from her view, tears welled up in her eyes, and she could move once again. Tears blurring her vision, she sank to her knees and cried.

Tristan felt cold.

For the first time since he set his eyes on Rory Gilmore, he felt cold. Of course, he didn't know it was Rory Gilmore in the beginning, but now he knew. He still couldn't get past how ironic it was. What were the odds of it being Rory Gilmore behind the mask? A million to one?

Tristan stopped, trying to get a sense of direction. He didn't want to mingle anymore. He just wanted to get out of here. He wanted to jump into his car and drive away. He wanted to go back to his room at the Hilton and wake up and find out that this was all a dream. However, he knew it wasn't a dream. The sensation of Rory Gilmore in his arms was something that could never happen in his dreams. It was too real.

Kissing Rory Gilmore with that kind of passion was something that Tristan knew he would remember for the rest of his life. Kissing the girl who you loved was different from kissing just another ordinary girl. He had never felt such passion in his life. No other kiss had come close to it. Even the kiss he had shared with Rory on the piano had been different. It was lovely, but it had been hesitant and shy. Tonight's kiss had been forward, ignited with lust. The kiss was more mature.

Tristan wished that he hadn't kissed her. He wished that he could go back. But he couldn't go back. After feeling her tender touch, he had fallen right back where he started. He had fallen in love with her, once again.

Tristan smiled sadly as he stared longingly at a couple near the punch table. They were laughing, even with their masks off. Tristan wished that he and Rory had that same experience. Reunions were supposed to be happy. Of course, he should have known better. Reunions were never happy for him. Even family reunions always turned out to be a disaster.

Tristan let out a sigh of relief when he saw the spiraling staircase leading towards the parking lot. He quickened his pace and headed towards the staircase, anxious to get out of the happy atmosphere.

It was suffocating him.

He let out a sigh of exasperation when he arrived at the foot of the stairs. It was rather narrow, enough for two people to go up and down as they pleased without any contact. However, a couple playing tonsil hockey blocked the entrance to the parking lot. Tristan knew his efforts would be futile if he tried to pass them, but it wouldn't hurt to try.

Rory felt hot tears roll down her cheeks. It was ridiculous, why was she crying anyway? It's not like she stopped him. She let him go, because she didn't know what to say. She should have grabbed his arm, until her ability to speak came back to her. Yet, she couldn't move. It was a weird sensation. It was as if she was paralyzed by her feelings.

And now it was too late.

She lifted her head and looked through the doors leading to the ballroom, hoping that he hadn't really left. Instead of seeing his handsome form, she saw random couples dancing happily, others were laughing and talking. It looked like the masked ball was a success. Most people would have said this was probably the best event of their whole college career.

Not for her.

This could easily rate as the worst event in her life. For all she knew, Tristan could be her destiny. It definitley felt like it when he held her in her arms. It was a feeling of certainity. She was supposed to be with Tristan for the rest of her life. She had never felt that fire burn so intensely before.

Of course, she could be mistaken. She thought that Dean was the one. She thought that her life would be a fairytale, that Dean would be her knight in shining armor. When they had broken up, she had been so devasted. Dean was like the air. She couldn't breathe without him. But slowly, as time went by she gained more self-confidence. That relationship with Dean taught her so much about life and it's ups and downs.

She still couldn't believe she let Tristan just leave like that.

She wanted to chase after him. But that wasn't conventional. Cinderella didn't chase after the Prince. The Prince was the one who chased Cinderella. Rory shook her head. Tristan would think that she was a little bit too desperate if she ran after him.

She should have stopped him before she looked like a desperate women.

But Tristan loved her. He really did. He wanted her to run after him. Besides, he could be the one. The one that Rory would never meet again. She had to do this. She had to swallow her pride and tell him her feelings. She needed to.

Getting up from the floor, Rory lifted up her skirt and rushed out the door. She frantically looked around, praying that he was still in view. She needed this. She needed to talk to him. Now. She rushed down into the middle of the dance floor so she could have a better view. Her eyes desperately searching for his form.

There he was.

He was obviously heading for the parking lot, trying to get away from the festivities. For the first time in her life, Rory was extremely thankful for public displays of affection. Hiking up her skirt even more, she tried to sprint towards him, but her shoes were not helping.

"No," she whispered angrily, as he got past the couple and disappeared from sight. She angrily, took off her shoes and ran faster, carrying them in her hands. People were starting to stare at her, but she really didn't care.

Even the couple on the stairs had stopped their make-out session to stare at her. "All the better," she muttered, pushing her way past them. She reached the room upstairs, and looked around. She saw a flight of stairs and rushed down it. She breathed in a sigh of relief.

"Tristan!" she called, "Wait!"

He didn't seem to hear her. He seemed to wrapped up in his grief to even notice. Tristan had got into his car and was starting the engine. She couldn't reach him in time.

This was pathetic.

Rory sighed, and her eyes moved towards her own car. She had parked close to the entrance because she knew she would have a hard time finding it. Now she was extremely relieved that she had done so. She quickly ran up to her car, and tried to open the door. It was locked.

"ARGH!" she shouted. She had forgotten to go the coat check-in in her rush to get to Tristan.

"Spare key."

She quickly whirled around to see Tristan's car was backing out of his parking spot. She rushed over to the front of her car and felt underneath for her spare key. Her mother was going to kill her for ruining such a nice dress. Her hand brushed against the case. Grabbing it, Rory quickly took out the key and jammed it into the lock. It unlocked without a fuss. She threw open the door and tossed her shoes inside. Starting up the car, she quickly pushed the gas pedal. Rory could see Tristan's car heading out, and she smiled in relief. She just might be able to catch him. "This is so Hollywood," she said, rolling her eyes with a laugh.

Tristan had a tight grip on the steering wheel as he drove down the solitary highway. The only car in sight was this Honda somewhere behind him. In around two hours, there would be a traffic jam as everyone from the ball tried to get to their hotel rooms. He had always been part of that crowd, and now the empty road just reminded him of tonight. The way Rory Gilmore had just let him leave. He still couldn't believe he had just walked out of her life. He couldn't believe that he actually promised to walk out of her life.

Now he couldn't even talk to her during those Chilton reunions.

Tristan rubbed his temples and sighed deeply. He was pathetic. But he couldn't help himself. He had declared those words out of anger and frusteration. He was tired of holding those words inside. He wanted her to know how she made him feel. She probably thought that he was exaggerating his feelings for her, but he wasn't.

Rory Gilmore was so clueless.

Tristan felt exhausted. It was the feeling of physical tiredness, it was that intense feeling of emotional exhaustion and helplessness. It was a feeling Tristan experienced during the fits of rage his parents went through while he sat alone in his bedroom. But this as different. This had to do with Rory Gilmore. This time, Tristan felt so human again. He never felt human when he played the dating game. He was good at it. No, scratch that, he was amazing at it.

Rory was right. He broke the rules. He broke the rules for her. She was the only one he could imagine breaking the rules for. She was perfection. Even her mild flaws made her perfection. Tristan rolled his eyes, "What's wrong with me?"

He wanted to hit his head on the steering wheel in aggravation, but that wasn't very wise. He didn't want to get into a car accident because of Rory Gilmore. That would just be too much. He would never forgive himself if he lost his basic motor skills over a girl.

Even if it was over Rory Gilmore.

Tristan glanced at his review mirror, prepared to change lanes. He stopped when he saw the Honda. It was too dark to see the driver, but Tristan sighed in exasperation. "Great! First I get my heart broken into a million pieces, then I get stalked by some random person on the street, ready to steal my belongings," he muttered.

Tristan rolled his eyes. He was being so melodramatic. He felt like he was starring in an episode of Dawson's Creek. This was ridiculous. Why would anyone be following him anyway? Testing the driver, he sped up. He frowned in dismay when it sped up as well.

It continued for around five minutes, and finally, Tristan was annoyed beyond belief. He was going to confront this freak. He was going to give him a piece of his mind. Tristan saw his chance when he saw the entrance to a local beach. He quickly turned, and sure enough, the fellow followed.

Tristan angrily parked his car and got out and slammed his car door, prepared to face his stalker. Suddenly, a wave of alarm swept through him. He was being daring. If this really was a stalker, he could be in danger. Tristan mentally slapped himself. He was an idiot. He really was an idiot.

The car parked across from him, and Tristan quickly considered the possibility of jumping back into his car and just driving away. The stalker could just eat his dust. Tristan's hand shot out to grab the door handle as his stalker climbed out.

He braced himself.

Tristan's mind whirled with confusion as he saw a feminine leg climb out of the car. His stalker was women? He was even more surprised when he saw her full body. Her eye makeup was streaked down her face, the front of her dress decorated with dirt and debris. Her hair was disarrayed, and she was barefoot.

"Rory?" Tristan breathed.

She didn't answer. Her blue eyes were glimmering strangely. Before Tristan could comprehend what was happening, her mouth covered his and was kissing him desperately. Tristan was breathless when she pulled away. He looked at her with a lost look in his eyes, "What are you doing here?" he whispered softly.

"I'm here because I love you," she whispered.

With those words, Tristan felt his heart soar. He had longed to hear those words for so long. His heart ached to hear them, and he knew that he would cherish this scene for the rest of his life. "Forever," he whispered, and with that, he leaned over for one more breathtaking kiss.

End