Impossible Reality

*A small shot featuring Mo from Dance Central and my male OC, Brady Astin. More practice with my Dance Central OC.

Brady Astin: Male with short, red hair and soft brown eyes. Inspired by Rob Hoffman of Step Up 2 fame. Riptide OC.

Mo: I have recently given Mo the last name 'Brea'. And I refer to him as 'Princess', because I'm an uber huge Momo fangirl.*

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The impossible touched grounds with reality.

What was once distant splashed the soil in vibrant blues, greens and reds. Surreal dreams became pure, white soil that slipped between his fingers. The sun rose over a horizon that knew only fairy tales, once upon a time, breathing new life into a human soul.

He never thought it would happen. He never thought the lifeless, crispy leaves would become emeralds. He never thought the sky would feel so clear, so fresh and gentle. But the angels steered him away from heartbreak-something he had known for far too long. A childhood friend cleaved his heart in two, leaving him with no hope for a bright future. The concept of a solid, nearby dream became a foreign language, something that caused his skull to throb with maddening ferocity. But then-

Came Brady.

Out of nowhere, like lightning from a clear blue sky, the Astin graced his life. Out of a thousand aspiring dancers, the redhead from Brooklyn engraved his beat into that of Mo Brea's. His rhythm was in perfect synchronization with Glitch's, adding more light to a tale that was already bright.

And Mo never knew the air could taste so sweet.

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"Hey. Th' name's Brady. Whenever ya need somethin', don't be afraid to give me a ring. I'll be right there."

Thousands of people worshipped Shakespeare, but in Mo's heart, those words were immortal.

It was Brady's first voicemail message, something that came up when the Brea reminded him about lunch. The brown-eyed redhead was out and about, promoting the crew he had come to love so well. He called back five minutes later, apologizing in his warm, carefree voice, but acting as if he had accidentally forgotten Mo's birthday.

"Hey hey hey, I'll be right there!"

"Don't count me outta th' ring, I'm comin' down!"

Sure, they were on different crews. Mo was the head of Hi-Def, while Brady was a part of Riptide. But the amber-eyed Princess came together perfectly with the Riptide knight, sharing cheeseburgers and milkshakes underneath a sunny sky. Brady's crew was enjoying downtime, so the redhead took the perfect opportunity to enjoy Momo-P's company-

And the days couldn't have been any brighter.

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"What was a pretty thing like you doing, living in that part o' th' woods? You deserved somethin' special, like...I dunno. Beverly Hills. Newport Beach!"

They grew up in the same world: Brooklyn. They ate deep fried chili dogs, strolled through rain-strewn parks, and bought ice cream from the neighborhood ice cream trucks. But despite Brady's wishes to see the Princess in a 'proper' kingdom, the visibly embarassed Brea smiled.

"Ey, ey, ey. Ain't got no problem with where I grew up, yo. 'S my home!"

The Astin was always expressive whenever he spoke, using his eyes and hands to animate his thoughts. "Its my home too, but you should've been surrounded by singing ponies and pretty crowns! Not down and dirty neighborhoods. Weird guys standing on the corner, asking for change. Th' garbage, th' crowds-that wasn't th' place for you."

"Fer yer information, I loved growin' up in muck, thank ya very much!"

On it went, with the Astin painting pictures of Mo's real kingdom, and with Mo assuring him he was already in his real kingdom, forever surrounded by love. Brady, at one point, brought up how they collided in the same elementary school, cheeks doused in crimson embarrassment.

"Jus' so ya know...I've always been a big fan of yours. Ever since second grade."

"No shit?"

"No shit," the redhead said proudly, pointing at his chest with a thumb. His brown eyes were as bright as stars. "You apparently don't remember this, but you saved me from a pack of bullies. Pulled me outta th' mud."

"Fer real?"

"For real, yo. I remember you, you and your Pac-Man hoodie. You took on those asswipes all by yourself. There must've been like six of 'em, but man, you whipped all of 'em pretty good. I didn't see you again until a few days later, walkin' down th' hall wearin' yet another one of your hoodies, but...I never forgot the way you made me feel. I'll never forget the way you always make me feel."

Smiling, Mo silently assured Brady he'd never forget the way he felt, after the redhead made love to him. He would never forget the way the Astin made him feel, showering him in love, dancing to his rhythm, flowing through a whirlwind of old-school beats. Brady's smile silently assured the Brea he would always and forever be a Princess, riding on the strongest white horse while surrounded by the brightest stars.

And, on a daily basis, the sky became crystal clear.

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"Will you stop playing around? If you don't cut it out, Princess, I'm gonna-"

"Yer gonna what?"

"I'm gonna chuck your pretty ass out on th' street!"

Sitting in the passenger's seat of a rental car, Mo stuck out his tongue-all the while wearing yet another hoodie, and one of Brady's favorite outfits.

Truth be told, Brady adored everything he put on-even the cow hoodie Glitch made fun of. But there were some outfits that made the Astin's eyes light up like diamonds.

"What happened? Y' ain't supposed t' be harmin' me, man. Harmin' th' Princess means havin' yer pretty ass tossed in th' dungeon fer treason!"

"Spoiled brat," the Astin muttered, pretending to grip his steering wheel in anger. "Every damn day, you act more and more like a Princess. And since you're going down that road, Princesses aren't supposed to date kitchen boys!"

The Brea's amber brown eyes widened. "Kitchen boys?"

Whenever he was flustered or overwhelmed with shyness, Brady spoke at a quicker pace. "I got it from one of my favorite movies but ANYWAY! Kitchen boy, commoner, whatever! Stop groping me when we're in traffic!"

The Hi-Def captain grinned, very much like a child with a new toy. "What's yer problem? We ain't even movin'!"

"Do I have to spell everything out for you? Mo, let's put one and one together. You continue to molest me and we're gonna end up flyin' off th' road. Capeesh? I told you t' cut it out!"

Glitch's mentor stuck out his tongue, once again-all the while touching one of his favorite places. "No," he said simply, chuckling while Brady tried to use his hands to bat off the Brea.

"And fer yer information, y' ain't no kitchen boy!"

"Says you," the kitchen boy purred, releasing the steering wheel, wrapping his arms around the other's waist, and drowning the Brea in kisses. "Hold up, hold up, hold up," Mo protested, flailing about, laughing out of pure, cleansing happiness. Happy over being loved by his knight, but always embarrassed by the worship Brady poured over him.

"What'cha doin'? I thought ya weren't into playtime!"

"Like you said, Your Highness-we aren't moving right now, soooo..."

They held up traffic for five minutes, but those minutes were undeniably magical.

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Mo never thought it would happen.

After having his heart broken by his first great love, he never thought it would happen. He never thought he'd experience the warmth of song, randomnly belting out songs in the shower. Putting an extra spring to his step, all the while beaming from ear to ear.

He never thought it would happen, but it did. And it happened because of Brady.

He never thought he'd discover what it felt like to be in love.

But as all great love stories did, the Brea's was endangered by a potentially fatal flaw. Out of nowhere, his knight in shining armor would become ill. He'd become tired, out of breath, sometimes even too weak to walk. He'd clutch his heart and either cough, or run to the bathroom, passing it off as 'something going down the wrong way', but Mo knew. They all knew.

Brady's heart was strong when it came to loving the Princess, but it wasn't reliable. It was much too weak to keep him alive.

But as Merida did in Mo's favorite movie, 'Brave', the Brea turned his story inside-out. Instead of the knight carrying the Princess to the finish line, Mo would carry Brady. He'd do everything in his power to save his first real love-at any cost. He promised to save Brady while they made love, kissing, singing, dancing gently across the nightingale's breeze. He promised to save Brady through every one of his smiles, even as they discussed Dance Central 3.

The impossible touched grounds with reality. And Mo would make sure dreams would continue to touch base with his world.

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Written to Ellie Goulding's 'The Writer'.