A/N: so, here's the deal. several months ago, I was taking drabble prompts over on my tumblr and my friend alice asked for bellarke + angsty exes. I wrote the drabble… and got lots of people asking for a part two. i didn't know whether i was actually ever going to write that sequel, but i tucked the idea away for later.

last week, i very suddenly stumbled across the inspiration for that part two, and im currently getting my betas to read it. i figured in the meantime, i would post this original drabble that inspired the story as the prologue, to get anyone who's new up to speed. so that when i post the rest of the story (much longer than a drabble lol) we're hopefully all on the same page. here it is!

Bellamy's standing by the bar at the wedding reception, lost in thought, when he feels a hand curl around his bicep.

He glances to the side, startled, only to see none other than his ex-girlfriend Clarke Griffin standing there, batting her big blue eyes at him. And his first reaction, despite the fact that they've been estranged for two years, is overwhelming fondness.

Outwardly, he raises his eyebrows at her flirtatious hand on his arm and without preamble says, "You're drunk, aren't you?"

Her smile becomes razor sharp, but doesn't drop. "My mom's watching us." Bellamy looks over her head. "To your nine o'clock." He casually surveys the room and indeed, he spots the bride of the day approaching them in her resplendent green dress.

Bellamy looks back at Clarke. "You still haven't told her we broke up?"

"No," she hisses at his tone. "You know she likes you, for some reason."

He ignores the barb. "Aren't you dating someone right now?"

Abby Griffin gets within earshot before she can answer. "Bellamy," she says warmly. "I'm so glad you could take the time off work to come for the wedding."

He tries to make his returning smile genuine. Abby had taken years to warm up to him initially when he and Clarke started dating after high school, but once she did, she saw him like a son. However, it still puts him off a bit that she likes him. Especially with the fact that her daughter doesn't, anymore.

"I couldn't miss it," he ends up replying, tugging on his collar. Clarke's hand tightens on his arm as a warning; she recognizes the action as one of his nervous ticks. He drops his hand. "Besides, I'm here for Kane too."

"Still." Abby beams. "It feels like it's been so long since I've seen you! Clarke hasn't brought you around since… well…" Her smile falters a bit. They all remember when Abby was on trial for the murder of her own husband; it had been high profile news back in the day, and the media had loved blowing up the drama of two married lawmakers. Luckily, the evidence had been shown to be weak and the charges dropped, but not before much heartache in the Griffin family.

Clarke presses against Bellamy's side. "He's here now." Automatically, Bellamy turns and presses a kiss against Clarke's hair, quick and chaste.

Abby's smile returns. "It's so wonderful to see you two still in love after all these years." The glint in her eye turns mischievous at her daughter. "Who knows, maybe we'll all be attending your wedding next."

"I doubt it," Bellamy says.

"What?"

"He said he doesn't doubt it," Clarke says smoothly, voice light. "I'm just waiting for him to propose."

"What are you waiting for?" Abby laughs, giving Bellamy a glance.

He wraps his arm around Clarke's waist. "The opportune moment," he replies. A pang in his gut at the thought of a moment which will never come. It's at least half his fault. The other half is Clarke's boyfriend, the son of another high profile lawmaker.

Who isn't here. Bellamy wishes he didn't feel a bit of smugness about that.

"Let's hope that moment comes soon," Abby says with a wink, and just then someone taps on her shoulder, and she whirls around to be carried into another conversation. Bellamy settles back against the bar, expecting Clarke to leave. She doesn't yet. She doesn't let go of him.

He finds he doesn't want to let go of her, either. At least right now, with the two of them leaning against the bar people-watching on this warm summer night, he can pretend that things are alright between them.

He takes a moment to side-eye her. She looks beautiful as always, wrapped up in a black dress hugging her curves, and her blonde waves hanging in ringlets framing her face.

"Your mom looks happy," he says, when she notices him looking.

Clarke leans against his chest. He can hear the joy in her voice. "I think she is happy. After everything that happened, with dad and the trial and all that… I wasn't sure she'd be okay again." Her voice sounds a little unsteady suddenly, and he runs a comforting hand up and down her side. It had been rough for her too. "But… Kane helped her through it. "

"Good." He clears his throat, offering her a side-glance. "Are you?"

She turns her face up to look at him. "Am I what?"

"Happy." He sounds gruff even to his own ears.

She stares at him. "My mom's with me, instead of in prison for a crime she didn't commit. She's moved on with someone she loves. Why shouldn't I be?"

It doesn't sound like a rhetorical question. Her gaze is far too meaningful. He looks away, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

Clarke's not done. "Where's your plus-one?"

Her way of asking if he's dating anyone. "Don't have one." She seems to relax. He debates asking what he asks next, but oh, to hell with it, he's curious too. "Where's your boyfriend? Couldn't make it, or didn't invite him?"

Clarke shoots a glare at him and disentangles herself from him to ask for a drink from the bartender. When she returns, he says, "When are you going to tell your mom you're dating someone new? Or are you just going to invite her to your wedding and say 'surprise'?"

Clarke's cheeks flush. "We're not getting married. We're barely even dating. Not even his dad knows yet."

"Well, his dad's an ass, I'm not surprised no one's telling him."

His voice is loud enough to carry; Clarke casts an anxious glance around before continuing.

"And I'm serious." Something in her voice— it sounds like she's struggling with words— makes him look at her. "I don't know what you heard about us, but we're… not a thing. Not really."

Bellamy holds her gaze. He understands the shake in Clarke's husky words. He understands why she grips the stem of her glass a little harder as she says them. Why her lips are parted waiting for his reply. Why she didn't tell anyone on her side of the family two years ago that she and Bellamy had broken up.

He understands all these things, because he's loved Clarke Griffin for years and years of his life. He knows her too well not to see what she's trying to tell him.

Bellamy returns his studious gaze to his glass and lets a mocking smile twist his lips. "Well, when you two become a thing, be sure to send me an invite to the wedding."

He hears Clarke's sharp intake of breath beside him. Then she slams her glass on the counter of the bar.

"You'll be lucky to get a toothpick in the mail from me," she hisses.

He smiles, bitter and angry just like her. "I'll look forward to it."

She stomps away. He settles back against the bar.

Someone new sidles up to him. Bellamy knows who it is without looking.

"Long time no see, Bellamy Blake," Cage Wallace says, and the sound of his voice makes his skin crawl. "How've you been?"

Bellamy tosses back what remains of his drink and puts it down on the counter right beside Clarke's. "What do you want?" He turns to look at Cage.

Cage is leaning against the bar, smirking, sinister. Bellamy hates him. Wishes he'd never met him— he remembers that day vividly.

It was when Clarke's mother was still going to trial for the death of Jake Griffin. At that time, the situation was serious. Abby Griffin was probably going to prison. Bellamy had spent a lot of time with the Griffins during that period, trying to be there for Clarke and her family just like they had always been there for him. It was a week before the trial when there were many people at their household, and he was in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water for Clarke, when he heard Cage Wallace walk in.

All he knew about the man at the time was that he was a Senator, and the father of one of Clarke's friends. So he didn't say anything. It was Cage who spoke first, as he rooted around in the fridge.

"Sad, this whole business, isn't it," he said. "There's not enough evidence to support Abby's alibi."

Bellamy looked up and nodded. He meant to leave after that. He should've. But then Cage spoke again as he straightened, voice casual but soft enough that it didn't carry.

"I have that evidence."

Bellamy paused. But Cage was just staring at him, eyes glittering in the kitchen lights.

"Then use it," Bellamy says slowly.

"I will." Cage crosses his arms. "But first I need you to do something for me."

Bellamy had blinked. He didn't even know this man. Never spoke a word to him in his life. "Me?"

"You," Cage echoed softly, and pushed off the counter to walk closer. "See, I have a problem. When my mother passed, she left a huge inheritance for my son, to be given to him if he got married before the age of thirty. He's twenty-six now."

Bellamy watched the man warily.

"And if he doesn't get married before he's thirty, that money goes off to charity. You see my problem here, Bellamy?"

Bellamy didn't answer. It seemed to have been a rhetorical question anyway, because Cage kept going with hardly a pause. "I've tried to introduce him to people. But he's been enamoured with this one girl for years. And the problem is, this girl doesn't even see him, because she's off spreading her legs for you."

Bellamy moved forward without even thinking, blinded by sudden rage, but Cage held up a hand.

"Ah, ah, ah."

Bellamy glared. His hands were balled into fists. But as satisfying as it might have been to hit him, that would cause a commotion, and the Griffins had enough to deal with. He settled for gritting out, "Don't talk about her that way."

"See, this is great. You care about Clarke," Cage replied. "You really do. I notice that. That's why I'm giving you this deal, Bellamy. You make Clarke, ah, available, and I release the evidence that makes her mother a free woman. Abby's happy, my son's happy, I'm happy, and you're happy, because Clarke is happy."

"You have got to be joking."

"I'm not." He smiled then, and the effect was terrifying. "I also have the power to make Abby's situation worse, you know. The death penalty still exists in this state."

"You piece of shit," Bellamy ground out, disbelieving. Cage Wallace had been a mainstay in the Griffins' social circle for years, and now he was talking about the death penalty without so much as a glint of remorse. Clarke was fragile enough with her father's sudden death, he couldn't even imagine her reaction if faced with the possibility of her mother's too.

Cage just reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "Just think about it, kid. Besides, you and a Senator's daughter? That's never going to work out. Might as well cut your losses early." And then he left the kitchen, whistling a tune under his breath, and leaving Bellamy to stand there for a long time.

—

Presently, Bellamy wants to hurt Cage as much as the man has hurt him. He says, "I wouldn't hold your breath for your son and Clarke getting married. You're never getting your hands on that inheritance."

Cage stiffens slightly. "They're together."

Bellamy shrugs. "But apparently your son hasn't even told you that yet."

"Well, he doesn't have to. It's obvious. There's still time," Cage says. "Two years, in fact. That's more than enough."

Bellamy doesn't reply. The thing is, it is enough time. Clarke's boyfriend, unlike his father Cage here, is a genuinely good man. He'd always been; they'd all known each other since they were kids. And despite Clarke's words, Bellamy knows she likes him well enough. She's dating him, after all.

He can see it all happening, this future unfolding, right in his mind's eye.

It hurts. He's bitter on the inside and out. "Can't wait until the day Clarke finds out what you did."

Cage gives him a calm look. "She never will, will she?"

"Maybe I'll let it slip."

"Then I'd be careful how much you drink, Bellamy. I still have influence around here, remember?"

Bellamy says nothing, though his hands ball up into fists.

Cage's voice is low as he reminds him, "I can make Clarke's mother's court case come back up if I really wanted to. Or have your dear little sister put on the blacklist for every academic institution in this country. Or maybe, if I really feel like you're showing up too often in Clarke's life, maybe even on purpose, well, let's just hope nothing… unfortunate happens to her."

He's heard these threats a thousand times, but they still terrify him. "I'm not here for Clarke," he says tightly. "I was invited by Kane. He would've known something was off if I didn't–"

"I know," Cage says soothingly. "It's alright, this time."

Bellamy hates him so much he can't breathe. He looks away from the man, only to find Abby watching them from a distant table.

Cage has noticed too, and a friendly smile has returned to his face. Always putting on a good show. He extends a jovial hand for Bellamy to shake.

"I'm glad to hear our deal is still in place."

Bellamy grips Cage's hand as hard as he can and smiles with all his teeth. "Go to hell."

Cage laughs under his breath, and pats his shoulder again. "That's a good boy." Then he walks away. Bellamy's only satisfaction in that moment is watching the other man flex his hand as he strolls off.

The satisfaction wears off when his gaze shifts back to the table Abby's sitting at. Clarke is there, too, gazing at him, but once he meets her eyes she looks away. Now he just feels tired. Suddenly all he wants is to go home.

His feet take him to Clarke instead.

He knows she can feel him approaching, but she ignores him, at least until he stands beside her and puts a hand on her shoulder.

"I have to go now," he says to her, and Abby looks up from her conversation.

"So soon?"

"I have a flight early tomorrow." He pauses, looks down at the top of Clarke's head. This is the part where she would smile and get up to kiss him for her mother's benefit. This is the part where she, and he, pretend everything is alright. The moment where Bellamy can feel some small drop of undeserved happiness, knowing Cage Wallace is unlikely to get what he wants.

But Clarke doesn't move from her chair. "Okay," she says. "Have a safe flight." She reaches back to pat his arm. Abby's expression shifts to confusion when Clarke does nothing else, but Clarke ignores it. She's still as a statue.

Bellamy suspects she's close to tears.

A lump grows in his throat. He kneels at the side of Clarke's chair, keenly aware that the eyes of everyone at the table are on them, and not caring.

"I'll miss you," he tells her softly. Her eyes are bright and shiny as she turns towards him. He takes her hand, where it rests in her lap, and with the other, he brushes her hair away from her cheek. Her eyes fall shut at the contact.

He means to say his next words lightly, casually as one partner says it to the other in public, but they tremble instead: "I love you."

Clarke opens her eyes and searches his for a long moment before replying, "I love you too."

The people at the table ooh and aww at their exchange. But Bellamy only has eyes for his best friend, the love of his life, the one who he always knew he would give up anything for, and now he's proving it.

He squeezes her hand before releasing her and standing. "Enjoy the rest of the party." He throws a smile back at Clarke's mother.

He starts to walk away, but not before Clarke's voice rings out.

"Bellamy."

He turns back. She's stood up from the table, followed him the few paces that took them away from the table. Her eyes are wide. She's biting her lip. Then she says, hesitant, "I didn't mean what I said before. If… down the road…" She swallows and changes tack. "We could always be friends, at least, right?"

The words wouldn't make sense to the others listening in. But he understands them, from their earlier conversation.

Bellamy smiles softly and nods; it's convincing enough, he thinks, that Clarke wouldn't be able to tell that his heart is shattering. He can feel Cage Wallace watching them. So when Clarke smiles tentatively back, he turns on the heel and really walks away.

Before leaving the reception, he goes to the washroom to splash water on his face. And when he comes out, he searches for Clarke in the crowd one last time, because he's weak.

She's still at the table he left her at, cheeks flushed as she laughs with friends mid-conversation. Happy, he thinks, is the word to describe her in this moment. The way he always wanted her to be.

Bellamy turns and melts away into the shadows.

.

.

A/N: if you're sufficiently intrigued, the rest of the story will be posted very soon ;)