Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Deadly Affair

Deadly Affair

by marissasorrentino 3 reviews

Rydon. Brendon is dead. Ryan is alive. Can love still conquer all?

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Published: 2011-08-07 - Updated: 2011-08-07 - 1209 words

1Original
There was a recent news story. Almost so recent no one knew about it. Only the select few that watched the news at 6 a.m. A gang shooting. Involving a tall, thin, pale boy. By the name of Brendon Boyd Urie. He was a semi-normal kid. He was about 18 when he was in the wrong place at the right time. It's a shame, he had such potential. Most people saw his potential, except his peers. He was not accepted with the other seniors of his class. And now he was gone and everyone regretted being so mean to the boy. I guess it was kind of like the story of Rudolph the red nosed reindeer. But there was nothing he could do to come back to life. No vampires near by to turn him. But because he hadn't done what he wanted to with life he could change that. He had enough will to come back. Enough with this odd and confusing back story, let's go to now.
The funeral was about to begin. It was a closed casket event. No one wanted to see Brendon's dead face and feel even more sad. Everyone was waiting outside. Except Brendon. His casket was in place and sitting at the front of the church. Closed and ready for this to be over with. Until, all of a sudden, Brendon opened his eyes. Impossible you say! Well, Brendon disagreed. He still had things he wanted to do. So he simply opened his eyes. Of course there was nothing to see in a closed casket. Except darkness, but he could see that with his eyes closed. Not thinking anything of it he opened the casket. Just pushed it open. The light was to overwhelming for Brendon. He squinted and put his hand to his forehead as if he was looking for something. He sat up to see an empty church. Brendon new he had died. But he didn't care. He still wanted to find love. So I guess you could say he was a zombie. But without the craving for human flesh. Well, as far as I know. Brendon got up to his feet. Even though he was a little wobbly he stood. He looked at his clothes. He was in black all black. He was dead and at a funeral so it made sense. He scanned the church for any sign of people. Because they would probably be dead too. If they saw a person come back from beyond the grave they might have a heart attack. Brendon quietly closed the casket and walked to the back door of the church. He looked around once more before stepping out into the light. It was even brighter outside. Causing Brendon to squint his chocolate eyes. He managed to slip out under the radar of the crowd outside the church. No one would know he was gone. He wasn't too heavy so when carrying the coffin no one would notice. He ran to his house. No one was home, so he could just go in. He was wrong. He thought he was a ghost so he tried to go through the wall. Nope. Brendon just smacked the door and fell onto his back. He looked up at the baby blue sky and though about how this was happening. Or if it even was. Maybe he was in heaven. Maybe he was in hell. Maybe dying was all just a dream to begin with. Brendon stood and shock off the fall he had just felt. As a second attempt he tried opening the door with the knob. He should have just tried that to begin with. Because now he was in. Brendon ran upstairs and into his bed room. He slipped on a pair of black skinny jeans and a navy green tank top. But as he looked in the mirror he noticed something. On the right side of his head. The right temple exactly. There was a gunshot wound. No blood just the wound. And on his chest were multiple gunshot wounds. At least 6. They were scattered over his pale chest. Speaking of pale, he also noticed he was paler then normal. Like deathly pale. Not normal, and clearly not natural. Brendon took of the tank to get a better look. He also saw a slash across his chest. Not wanting to look at it any longer he slipped on a long sleeved purple shirt. He out on the darkest hoodie he could find and threw the hood over his head. In an attempt to cover the gunshot. Brendon felt alive,and really awake. But looked dead and like shit. Not knowing what to do, or why he was back from the dead, he decided to do what any living dead would do. Go to a bar. There were lots of good bars in the Vegas area. but he always went to a littler known one. It was never crowded and the drinks were great. He walked there with his hood up and his hands buried deep in his pockets. Once he got there he just walked in and took a seat at the too familiar bar.
"What would you like sugar?" A curly headed lady asked.
"Just a beer please. Thank you." Brendon replied not looking up at her.
"No problem. Are you okay kid?" She asked looking at him. He refused to look up at her in fear she might have seen the news about him. But she knew he was a kid and didn't say anything about him being in a bar so whatever.
"No. I am fine thanks. How about you?" Brendon said back not trying to be sarcastic.
"No don't get cocky boy." She said waging her finger at him.
"Sorry. I am just really confused." He replied ripping at his cuticles.
"Well of course you are. Your in high school. You should be confused. But its none of my business. Here's your beer. Have a great day." She said handing him his order and walking away. Brendon picked it up and took a big gulp. He didn't fell it go down his throat. He couldn't taste it. Probably because he was dead. He looked up and noticed that there was someone sitting next to him. And he was staring.
"Can I help you?" Brendon asked the staring boy.
"Your that kid who died. I heard about you on the news this morning." The boy said bak staring at Brendon. He wasn't staring in a bad way or in a good way. He was staring without emotion.
"No that's not me." Brendon said standing up and walking out of the bar. He walked out and heard he was being followed.
"Yes. You are Brendon Boyd Urie. The boy who was killed in a gang shooting. I saw you on the news. I'm George Ryan Ross the third. I am not on the news, but I will be sooner or later. When I die. It will be tragic. Probably the same way you went. In a gang something. It's hard to live here and not be involved somehow." The boy said following Brendon. Why not make conversation?
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Just an idea. Tell me what you think. Should I continue this?
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