Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > You Stole My Breath
So I know this one has been a long time coming, and I sincerely apologize for keeping everyone waiting. I was working at a summer camp and had horrible internet connection. But I'm back now and already working on chapter five. Things are going to get exciting from here on out, hopefully I've got some tricks up my sleeve that you aren't quite expecting. And if you'd like, I'd love to hear what you think :) Happy Reading.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
FACT: I only allowed myself one week of regret
The week Ethan and Sabrina spent on a secluded island off the coast of Aruba, I wallowed in the darkness of my bedroom. That was more because my mind spun with guilt than because the pair was on their honeymoon. The smallest details of the bad decisions that followed their wedding ceremony reinvaded my memory every time I closed my eyes. The soft look of sleep on that stranger’s face, the mixed scent of alcohol and cologne left behind as his lips trailed across my skin, the subtle neon glow of Vegas outside the heavy curtains of the hotel room, the guilt that had been tightening its grasp on my lungs ever sense. I had been neither completely unprovoked nor innocent, but I considered that night the only one I’d ever regret. The whispers on my conscience hoped to lure him back like a siren just to assure he, (myself,) and that lonely hotel room that I was just not “that” type of girl.
Confided to the east wing of our estate I stayed up all night just to watch the sunrise from the depths of my comforter. And despite Regina’s constant phone calls, I managed to shake the firm grasp of an Orange County debutante’s social network. Instead of spending nights at the wild parties thrown by the children of tabloid fodder, I reevaluated the life I had been wasting. Like a child held close to their mother in a crowded mall at Christmas time, I felt like I had been shielded from the dangers of the real world. In the comfort of the life I knew, with my life’s plan already spelled out in dollar signs, I had never ventured out to make a decision on my own. My first attempt at running on my own feet proved that I’d probably need practice walking first. I would need to take a few more chances before I got it right. It took me eight days to even pick up the phone.
When my clumsy fingers finally found the seven keys that sent Regina’s cell phone ringing at midnight, I couldn’t keep the vibrations in my voice at bay. “I…I can’t live here anymore,” I admitted through tears, “I need to leave.”
With only minimal explanation Regina understood my desperation. She, too, had spent twenty-two years trapped under her father’s roof (and by his wallet strings). While home cooked meals and expensive gifts kept us content, their had to be more to life than living in a monetary fairytale. Even princesses eventually moved into their own castles.
The week following that first phone call buzzed with excitement as Regina and I scoured the city for the place we would establish ourselves as (semi) independent women. We found that place in a gorgeous third floor apartment just between Beverly Hills and Hollywood. With two large bedrooms, private baths, and view of the historic “Hollywood” sign, it was perfect for us. Regina quickly decided the sky-lit loft that overlooked the living room would be filled with fluffy couches, beanbag chairs, and pillows. Lit with only the stars it would be the perfect for frequent movie nights. The daily shopping trips that followed the signing of our lease proved her degree in Interior Design was going to be put to good use.
With only one obstacle left to overcome, I slammed the truck of my car shut and waited as my parents rushed down the steps from the house. My mother, with a damp handkerchief already wadded up in her hand, embraced me first. My father stood nearby, his hands tucked in the pockets of the neatly pressed slacks that made him look ready for a business meeting. He tried to negotiate a deal that would convince me to stay. To his dismay, even the promise of a new car and a trip to Paris in the fall weren’t enough.
“But your baby sister!” My mother sobbed, “Sabrina, she was just married! I can’t lose both my babies in just two weeks!”
“Mom, you haven’t lost either of us.” I assured her, “Sabrina has called you three times this morning alone. You know she’ll never be able to organize that house without you. And me, I’m only going to be on the other side of town.”
“She’s right Diane,” My father sighed. He sounded more defeated than cooperative, “You know your girls will be home as soon as they need something dry cleaned.”
I shook my head, loosening the eye roll Sabrina and I had both perfected as teenagers. Hugging them both one more time I waved a quick goodbye and let the driver’s side door sever the last ties of dependence. Shifting into drive I checked the rearview mirror and hesitated a second before pulling away. If I was going to leave the safety of my past behind I wanted to be sure no signs from the future were present to warn me of danger ahead. With my eyes finally open and the intersection clear I pressed on knowing I’d only overcome the past if I allowed myself to move on. I was already on my way.
With her curly hair tied up in a bun, Regina’s head looked more weighed down than bored as she waited along the curb for me to arrive with my carload. With the knowledge that we were only able to afford such an immaculate place because we had been born with trust funds that totaled more than most people made in a lifetime, we had decided to forgo movers and work toward earning our freedom by moving in ourselves.
“Seriously Cassia!” She complained as we carried the very last of my belongs up to the third floor landing, two boxes correctly labeled ‘BOOKS’, “Was bringing the entire library really necessary?”
“Reggie, we carried six tons of your shoes up yesterday!” I countered knowing very well that was only a slight exaggeration.
Setting her box down on the stairs with a quiet thud she dramatically wiped sweat from her brow and chuckled, “But shoes are enjoyable for everyone.”
With just a simple shake of my head, I communicated both my love and annoyance to Regina. The way she flipped her hair before sighing loudly told me she felt the exact same way. After being friends all of our lives, we usually understood what the other was thinking effortlessly. Most waking moments since infancy had been spent together at sleepovers, on double dates, in dances classes, and boarding schools. Our mothers met in a prenatal yoga class and planned our weekly play dates before even scheduling Lamaze classes. My mother was at Regina’s mother’s bedside and it seemed that as if for moral support went into labor herself. Regina and I were born in neighboring rooms just 93 minutes apart. It was only fitting we ended up living just down the hall from one another again.
No later than the moment we had set the boxes down amidst the others we had begun unpacking Regina’s phone sang out a melody that had only recently become familiar.
“He took the days from pageants/We became as mad as rabbits/With bushels of bad habits/Who can ask for anymore?” I sang along loud enough she waved a hand at me to hush. It was surely Brendon on the other line. It was always Brendon on the other line. Leaving the room to coo into her sidekick, Regina was obviously very fond of him. Apparently, his band was a fairly big deal too (even if I could never remember their name). He called Regina as much as scheduling and shifting time zones would allow.
With little concern for the stories Regina would excitedly retell of the stage pranks and funny accents that accompanied his European tour, I slipped into the privacy of my new bedroom. Still looking like a field of hardwood floors and whitewashed skies it didn’t hold the same comforts as home but I had promised myself that would change once our furniture was delivered. Rummaging through the boxes labeled “BATHROOM” I found a towel and the bag that contained most of my toiletries. Leaving my clothes on the empty bedroom floor I hurried into my adjoining bathroom for a quick shower.
Now I would have had an excuse to ignore Regina’s excited knocking if I hadn’t been distracted by my reflection in the mirror. I studied my figure carefully, noting it seemed slightly more bloated than normal. Sure, I had spent the majority of a week in bed and the majority of the week that followed on an extended shopping but both had kept me busy enough I hadn’t been eating any more than I usually did. But even the prospect of weight gain muted Regina’s lively chatter from the other side of my bathroom door.
“Cassia! Get out here! I have great news!” She shrieked much like she had our first year of boarding school right after a senior had asked her to prom.
Wrapping myself in a towel I opened the door slowly. Without hesitation, Regina bounded in hopping up onto the counter next to the sink. The strings of words I could decipher as her sentences blurred into childish giggles announced that Brendon would return in just over a week. It hadn’t been the urgent news I had been expecting.
“Are you ready for the best part?” She asked attempting to build her own hype. Teasing her with a yawn I simply nodded.
“We’re going on tour!” She shrieked leaving me no time to reply before explaining, “Brendon and I have been talking about it for almost two weeks now, so don’t think this is some spur of the moment whim. We’ve already worked everything out! He’s talked to everyone that needs to be talked to, and they’re getting a new bus so there will be plenty of room for us!”
“Reg, that all sounds great, but we just moved in, we still have to get everything organized and…”
“And we won’t be leaving for a month! That’s plenty of time to get the apartment together. And once Brendon gets here we can make him carry things that are heavy and fix whatever needs fixing and kill any bugs. He can help with all the manly stuff. This is perfect.”
“Regina, I’m sure you’ll have a great time. I can’t just pick up and leave though, by next month I really hope to have some sort of steady job.”
“I told Brendon that too. He thought it was very responsible of you. He worked it out so you can work merch at shows or even help Zack with the Meet and Greets. Please say you’ll come!”
When I couldn’t think of a reply quick enough to keep the argument alive she asked with all seriousness. “What happened to the Cassia that takes chances?” She knew that if nothing else those words would get under my skin.
As if on cue the doorbell rang and Regina scurried away to answer it. Despite her departure I knew the conversation we had started was far from over. I turned the knob of the shower to a desirable temperature only to hear Regina shout my name again. Quickly throwing a cotton sundress over my head I hurried back into the living room only to have her rush to me halfway back into my bedroom.
“Cassia, there is an attractive man in uniform at the door asking for you.” Her whispers danced with delight as they reached my ears, “What have you been hiding from me?”
With a quiet laugh I shook my head and moved past her on my way to the door. It had been left open when Regina had nearly tackled me back into my bedroom. The man she had spoke of waiting politely in the hallway. The badge on his chest read “Officer L. Stone” but he seemed far too attractive to be a police officer. I had found on my first two dates with him that he was far too modest to even consider modeling.
“Logan, you’re early.” I joked, “I thought dinner was tomorrow night.”
He flashed a bright smile and pulled a bouquet from behind his back, “I thought I’d stop by and bring something to liven the place up a bit.” He nodded at Regina who was having a difficult time restraining herself on the opposite side of the room. She paced through furniture, fluffed pillows, and straightened picture frames. Gladly, the living room was the only one that didn’t look disastrous. “Seems like you didn’t need the help though.”
I brought the flowers up to my face hoping to hide the pink color that was rushing to my cheeks. “It was nice to see you though” I smirked, biting my lip shyly.
When I invited him in, his voice deepened with disappointment as he said “My partner’s waiting down in the car. He’s pretty impatient. I had to promise to take over his next three stakeout nights just so he’d let me stop by to see you. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
With a soft kiss we said goodbye and I closed the door as he left. Regina’s inquiries wasted no time spilling from her lips as soon as he was no longer bordering the apartment’s threshold.”
“So that’s ‘THE’ officer? Logan, huh?” She alluded to the officer who had been assigned to my missing person’s case.
“How many time have you gone out with him now?”
“He’s already making house calls?”
“Please tell me you’re sleeping with him already because Cassia, he’s got the body of a Greek god and you really need a good…”
“Regina.” I scolded knowing the next word out of her mouth would be ‘lay’.
“So you’re not going to tell me anything?” She pleaded, following me like a dog begging for the tiniest morsel at the dinner table, as I attempted for the third time to take that shower.
“I told you all you needed to know already,” I bit my lip to avoid laughing as she attempted to wiggle her way into the doorway, “After Vegas, I only allowed myself one week of regret.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
FACT: I only allowed myself one week of regret
The week Ethan and Sabrina spent on a secluded island off the coast of Aruba, I wallowed in the darkness of my bedroom. That was more because my mind spun with guilt than because the pair was on their honeymoon. The smallest details of the bad decisions that followed their wedding ceremony reinvaded my memory every time I closed my eyes. The soft look of sleep on that stranger’s face, the mixed scent of alcohol and cologne left behind as his lips trailed across my skin, the subtle neon glow of Vegas outside the heavy curtains of the hotel room, the guilt that had been tightening its grasp on my lungs ever sense. I had been neither completely unprovoked nor innocent, but I considered that night the only one I’d ever regret. The whispers on my conscience hoped to lure him back like a siren just to assure he, (myself,) and that lonely hotel room that I was just not “that” type of girl.
Confided to the east wing of our estate I stayed up all night just to watch the sunrise from the depths of my comforter. And despite Regina’s constant phone calls, I managed to shake the firm grasp of an Orange County debutante’s social network. Instead of spending nights at the wild parties thrown by the children of tabloid fodder, I reevaluated the life I had been wasting. Like a child held close to their mother in a crowded mall at Christmas time, I felt like I had been shielded from the dangers of the real world. In the comfort of the life I knew, with my life’s plan already spelled out in dollar signs, I had never ventured out to make a decision on my own. My first attempt at running on my own feet proved that I’d probably need practice walking first. I would need to take a few more chances before I got it right. It took me eight days to even pick up the phone.
When my clumsy fingers finally found the seven keys that sent Regina’s cell phone ringing at midnight, I couldn’t keep the vibrations in my voice at bay. “I…I can’t live here anymore,” I admitted through tears, “I need to leave.”
With only minimal explanation Regina understood my desperation. She, too, had spent twenty-two years trapped under her father’s roof (and by his wallet strings). While home cooked meals and expensive gifts kept us content, their had to be more to life than living in a monetary fairytale. Even princesses eventually moved into their own castles.
The week following that first phone call buzzed with excitement as Regina and I scoured the city for the place we would establish ourselves as (semi) independent women. We found that place in a gorgeous third floor apartment just between Beverly Hills and Hollywood. With two large bedrooms, private baths, and view of the historic “Hollywood” sign, it was perfect for us. Regina quickly decided the sky-lit loft that overlooked the living room would be filled with fluffy couches, beanbag chairs, and pillows. Lit with only the stars it would be the perfect for frequent movie nights. The daily shopping trips that followed the signing of our lease proved her degree in Interior Design was going to be put to good use.
With only one obstacle left to overcome, I slammed the truck of my car shut and waited as my parents rushed down the steps from the house. My mother, with a damp handkerchief already wadded up in her hand, embraced me first. My father stood nearby, his hands tucked in the pockets of the neatly pressed slacks that made him look ready for a business meeting. He tried to negotiate a deal that would convince me to stay. To his dismay, even the promise of a new car and a trip to Paris in the fall weren’t enough.
“But your baby sister!” My mother sobbed, “Sabrina, she was just married! I can’t lose both my babies in just two weeks!”
“Mom, you haven’t lost either of us.” I assured her, “Sabrina has called you three times this morning alone. You know she’ll never be able to organize that house without you. And me, I’m only going to be on the other side of town.”
“She’s right Diane,” My father sighed. He sounded more defeated than cooperative, “You know your girls will be home as soon as they need something dry cleaned.”
I shook my head, loosening the eye roll Sabrina and I had both perfected as teenagers. Hugging them both one more time I waved a quick goodbye and let the driver’s side door sever the last ties of dependence. Shifting into drive I checked the rearview mirror and hesitated a second before pulling away. If I was going to leave the safety of my past behind I wanted to be sure no signs from the future were present to warn me of danger ahead. With my eyes finally open and the intersection clear I pressed on knowing I’d only overcome the past if I allowed myself to move on. I was already on my way.
With her curly hair tied up in a bun, Regina’s head looked more weighed down than bored as she waited along the curb for me to arrive with my carload. With the knowledge that we were only able to afford such an immaculate place because we had been born with trust funds that totaled more than most people made in a lifetime, we had decided to forgo movers and work toward earning our freedom by moving in ourselves.
“Seriously Cassia!” She complained as we carried the very last of my belongs up to the third floor landing, two boxes correctly labeled ‘BOOKS’, “Was bringing the entire library really necessary?”
“Reggie, we carried six tons of your shoes up yesterday!” I countered knowing very well that was only a slight exaggeration.
Setting her box down on the stairs with a quiet thud she dramatically wiped sweat from her brow and chuckled, “But shoes are enjoyable for everyone.”
With just a simple shake of my head, I communicated both my love and annoyance to Regina. The way she flipped her hair before sighing loudly told me she felt the exact same way. After being friends all of our lives, we usually understood what the other was thinking effortlessly. Most waking moments since infancy had been spent together at sleepovers, on double dates, in dances classes, and boarding schools. Our mothers met in a prenatal yoga class and planned our weekly play dates before even scheduling Lamaze classes. My mother was at Regina’s mother’s bedside and it seemed that as if for moral support went into labor herself. Regina and I were born in neighboring rooms just 93 minutes apart. It was only fitting we ended up living just down the hall from one another again.
No later than the moment we had set the boxes down amidst the others we had begun unpacking Regina’s phone sang out a melody that had only recently become familiar.
“He took the days from pageants/We became as mad as rabbits/With bushels of bad habits/Who can ask for anymore?” I sang along loud enough she waved a hand at me to hush. It was surely Brendon on the other line. It was always Brendon on the other line. Leaving the room to coo into her sidekick, Regina was obviously very fond of him. Apparently, his band was a fairly big deal too (even if I could never remember their name). He called Regina as much as scheduling and shifting time zones would allow.
With little concern for the stories Regina would excitedly retell of the stage pranks and funny accents that accompanied his European tour, I slipped into the privacy of my new bedroom. Still looking like a field of hardwood floors and whitewashed skies it didn’t hold the same comforts as home but I had promised myself that would change once our furniture was delivered. Rummaging through the boxes labeled “BATHROOM” I found a towel and the bag that contained most of my toiletries. Leaving my clothes on the empty bedroom floor I hurried into my adjoining bathroom for a quick shower.
Now I would have had an excuse to ignore Regina’s excited knocking if I hadn’t been distracted by my reflection in the mirror. I studied my figure carefully, noting it seemed slightly more bloated than normal. Sure, I had spent the majority of a week in bed and the majority of the week that followed on an extended shopping but both had kept me busy enough I hadn’t been eating any more than I usually did. But even the prospect of weight gain muted Regina’s lively chatter from the other side of my bathroom door.
“Cassia! Get out here! I have great news!” She shrieked much like she had our first year of boarding school right after a senior had asked her to prom.
Wrapping myself in a towel I opened the door slowly. Without hesitation, Regina bounded in hopping up onto the counter next to the sink. The strings of words I could decipher as her sentences blurred into childish giggles announced that Brendon would return in just over a week. It hadn’t been the urgent news I had been expecting.
“Are you ready for the best part?” She asked attempting to build her own hype. Teasing her with a yawn I simply nodded.
“We’re going on tour!” She shrieked leaving me no time to reply before explaining, “Brendon and I have been talking about it for almost two weeks now, so don’t think this is some spur of the moment whim. We’ve already worked everything out! He’s talked to everyone that needs to be talked to, and they’re getting a new bus so there will be plenty of room for us!”
“Reg, that all sounds great, but we just moved in, we still have to get everything organized and…”
“And we won’t be leaving for a month! That’s plenty of time to get the apartment together. And once Brendon gets here we can make him carry things that are heavy and fix whatever needs fixing and kill any bugs. He can help with all the manly stuff. This is perfect.”
“Regina, I’m sure you’ll have a great time. I can’t just pick up and leave though, by next month I really hope to have some sort of steady job.”
“I told Brendon that too. He thought it was very responsible of you. He worked it out so you can work merch at shows or even help Zack with the Meet and Greets. Please say you’ll come!”
When I couldn’t think of a reply quick enough to keep the argument alive she asked with all seriousness. “What happened to the Cassia that takes chances?” She knew that if nothing else those words would get under my skin.
As if on cue the doorbell rang and Regina scurried away to answer it. Despite her departure I knew the conversation we had started was far from over. I turned the knob of the shower to a desirable temperature only to hear Regina shout my name again. Quickly throwing a cotton sundress over my head I hurried back into the living room only to have her rush to me halfway back into my bedroom.
“Cassia, there is an attractive man in uniform at the door asking for you.” Her whispers danced with delight as they reached my ears, “What have you been hiding from me?”
With a quiet laugh I shook my head and moved past her on my way to the door. It had been left open when Regina had nearly tackled me back into my bedroom. The man she had spoke of waiting politely in the hallway. The badge on his chest read “Officer L. Stone” but he seemed far too attractive to be a police officer. I had found on my first two dates with him that he was far too modest to even consider modeling.
“Logan, you’re early.” I joked, “I thought dinner was tomorrow night.”
He flashed a bright smile and pulled a bouquet from behind his back, “I thought I’d stop by and bring something to liven the place up a bit.” He nodded at Regina who was having a difficult time restraining herself on the opposite side of the room. She paced through furniture, fluffed pillows, and straightened picture frames. Gladly, the living room was the only one that didn’t look disastrous. “Seems like you didn’t need the help though.”
I brought the flowers up to my face hoping to hide the pink color that was rushing to my cheeks. “It was nice to see you though” I smirked, biting my lip shyly.
When I invited him in, his voice deepened with disappointment as he said “My partner’s waiting down in the car. He’s pretty impatient. I had to promise to take over his next three stakeout nights just so he’d let me stop by to see you. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
With a soft kiss we said goodbye and I closed the door as he left. Regina’s inquiries wasted no time spilling from her lips as soon as he was no longer bordering the apartment’s threshold.”
“So that’s ‘THE’ officer? Logan, huh?” She alluded to the officer who had been assigned to my missing person’s case.
“How many time have you gone out with him now?”
“He’s already making house calls?”
“Please tell me you’re sleeping with him already because Cassia, he’s got the body of a Greek god and you really need a good…”
“Regina.” I scolded knowing the next word out of her mouth would be ‘lay’.
“So you’re not going to tell me anything?” She pleaded, following me like a dog begging for the tiniest morsel at the dinner table, as I attempted for the third time to take that shower.
“I told you all you needed to know already,” I bit my lip to avoid laughing as she attempted to wiggle her way into the doorway, “After Vegas, I only allowed myself one week of regret.”
Sign up to rate and review this story