The prestigious Urie family has a very strong reputation to uphold. The only thing threatening that reputation? Their defiant and rebellious son, Brendon, who hates his family's wealth more that an...
Brendon stood in front of a mirror and sighed. His own Armani suit was itchy and his Dolce & Gabbana tie was strangling him. This was not how he had planned to spend his seventeenth birthday. Or any of his previous birthdays. As if he had a choice.
"You know what?" he thought out loud. "I do have a choice." Brendon then proceeded to remove his swanky outfit in much haste. He couldn't wait to shock the socks off his parents.
The posh guests were getting anxious for the birthday boy. He was supposed to be downstairs five minutes ago. Just as someone was about to complain, footsteps were heard on the marble staircase. Everyone waited to see the new suit that Mrs. Urie had been boasting about. To their surprise, the suit had been replaced by skinny jeans and a leather jacket. Brendon's chestnut hair partially covered his warm auburn eyes. He looked over at his furious parents and winked devilishly. The mansion became silent as he walked over to a little stage where a microphone and piano stood. Brendon sat down on the bench and took the mic.
"I just wanted to thank you all for coming to my party and I hope you enjoy the show." Brendon told the guests as if nothing was different than usual. He started playing Blink-182 covers and sang for the crowd. A few smiled, while the rest remained either confused or shocked. His parents, on the other hand, were turning red from anger and embarrassment. Brendon smiled and continued singing as one-by-one the guests warmed up.
Brendon: 1. His parents: 0.
After the guests had left, Brendon carried his little sister Mona to bed. She was a spitting image of her older brother, with the same youthful and warm expression that most people are to solemn and stressed to have. The only difference was that their parents favored her over Brendon. She was to young to say no to her parents, who looked like superheroes in her naive little eyes.
Brendon said good night to Mona and walked down the hallway to his room. As he passed the master bedroom, he heard his parents discussing something -. Their words were muffled by the door and Brendon could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation.
“he’s become too difficult... enough is enough... I think it’s time... put it in his drink... problem solved... fake tears... that’s what we do... ”
The blood left Brendon’s face as he realized that they were talking about him. He knew that his parents were frustrated with him, but he never envisioned them hating him enough to kill him! Brendon backed away from the door slowly and quietly, plans of escape racing through his head. As he started to tiptoe down the hallway, he tripped over one of Mona’s toys and landed flat on his back with a thud. His father opened the door and frowned.
“Well well, look whose been eavesdropping.” Brendon scrambled to stand up but Mr. Urie put a foot on his chest and pushed him down. “Leaving so soon? I don’t think so.”
“You can’t kill me, I’m your son! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Brendon screamed.
“You don’t treat us like your parents, so why should we treat you like our son?” his father shot back.
“I’m sorry, I really am.” Brendon searched his father’s face for a sign that he was just kidding, but his expression was stone cold.
Mrs. Urie sauntered out of the bedroom carrying a glass flask with a milky liquid inside.
“Open wide, Brendon.”
Ahhhh! Brendon can't die! Who will be my husband?! I'm joking. :) Sort of...