Sometimes we wish we knew better. Sometimes we do. But sometimes we don't even know what better is. Brendon/OFC
My friend: Amy-Lia Dante. Amy-Lia of course wasn't her real name; almost everything about Amy-Lia wasn't real. Including her personality. Even though I looked every inch the fake Amy did, I still tried to retain my real personality. That much I wasn't willing to change for appearance-sake.
Amy-Lia had long, bleach blonde hair that felt to just above her hipbones. The length wasn't real, Amy had extensions. Before she had those her hair had only reached to her collarbones and it most certainly hadn't been the blonde colour it was now. Her hair was heavily razored and she took the advantage to hairspray her hair as large as she could get it, leaving her fringe straight, shiny and plastered to her face, so it could almost cover one eye. Her eyes were a startling dark blue colour, but once again, I knew that it wasn't her real eye colour. Her real eye colour was a murky, unimpressive brown. Amy wore her eyeliner thick and winged, topping that off with a line of pink near the black that lined her lower lids. She had coated her lips in a bright pink lipstick to match. Her almost-recent piercings stood stark against her lightly tanned skin. She had both a munroe and a lower labret; she wore simple silver barbells in each. Her clothes were what could really set her apart in a crowd (well that paired with the rest of her appearance). She had knee high boots, pulled up over dark grey skinny jeans. She wore two belts, one a thick black studded belt threaded through her belt loops and the other a thin hot pink one that sat haphazardly around her hips, sitting crooked across her other belt. Her shirt was a vibrant yellow colour, a yellow that almost required you to wear sunglasses if you looked at it long enough. There was a large Hello Kitty head printed on the front and the words 'Hello Kitty' printed in scrawling writing below it. Amy-Lia had her faux leopard print jacket slung over one arm, and a coffee in the other hand. Her black handbag was dangling from one shoulder; it had a massive amount of novelty key chains on it, from Sesame Street and Superman to Gloomy Bear and Hello Kitty. Sometimes I found myself wondering how heavy the thing was. It must weigh at least half, if not three quarters of her entire weight.
That was another thing, Amy-Lia was thin, not stick thin and brittle looking but thinner then she should've been. I was always telling her to eat something and I'd always receive the same answer back, "Why don't you go and eat something Parker. You look like some anorexic ten year old." Amy-Lia wasn't a nice person, fuck; she had never been a nice person even when we had known each other in high school. She had been the kid that would sit in class and subtly throw things at the back of your head. She was never so subtle that no one at all would notice but she did it so carefully that the people who would do anything about it wouldn't see a thing. The only difference back then as opposed to now is that she had the look to back up the attitude. Back in high school she had never looked impressive, with gangly long light brown hair, dull brown eyes and sloppy clothing; she wasn't a kid anyone would ever look twice at. Maybe that's why she was overcompensating now.
Amy-Lia and I had never been friends but I guess you could say we needed each other. Back in high school I got Amy a job at the local supermarket when she needed money, I stopped the kids from beating up on her when I could, basically only because I knew the boys that would torment her, and I pointed her in the direction of someone who could make her over into something impressive. She in return helped me with the bills by dragging me along to photo shoots she had. She and I were a pair, if you were going to hire Amy-Lia, you had to hire me. She was intent on that. Maybe she thought she owed me, but I never felt she did.
I guess some of her popularity had been rubbing off on me because lately I'd been getting calls to do shoots by myself, and they were always specific about not bringing Amy-Lia along. I didn't feel right not having her there, so I'd been turning down all of them but lately I'd actually accepted a couple of offers. They were shoots for things that I doubt Amy would ever see, mainly because she didn't read the magazines that the shoots featured in or she didn't shop at the places that the photographs were taken for. I didn't want her to find out, really. If she knew I was branching out on my own she would go ballistic. I mean she would complain sometimes about how she was sick of the two of us being taken as a commercial couple but that was only when she was drunk and completely out of it. Funny the things people say when they're not sober. She resented me, which was fine by me because I didn't like her much either.
By the time I reached Amy-Lia I realized she was trying to contain her excitement. I wasn't sure why but I knew she would tell me in all of about five seconds and the low buzz in the cafe this morning probably had something to do with it.
"Parker, oh my god! Parker, look!" Amy-Lia said, trying her hardest to point with a coffee in her hand.
I followed her finger and my gaze came to rest on what had been creating the fuss this morning. Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross being mobbed by a few fans. I recognized the boys, it's not like I was going to deny that and seeing them in my local Starbucks this early in the morning sure was cool, I guess. I wasn't about to go rabid and attack them for autographs but once again, I couldn't deny that I liked their music.
Amy-Lia was close to bursting. She was excited and she wasn't hiding it. Excitement wasn't a flattering thing for her. She didn't look excited, rather just badly needing to go to the bathroom. Good thing no one was paying any attention to the uber fake scene model by the door or I'd be the one having to deal with her tantrum about how her actions caused her to smear her reputation. But, of course, she would never blame herself. It'd be my fault that I didn't stop her from acting like a complete moron. But I wasn't her keeper and when I did try to stop her she'd get bitchy or completely ignore me, so this time I wasn't even going to try.
"Parker, we so have to go and say hello!" Amy said again in a false whisper that was the furthest thing from a whisper as it could ever be. She said it so loudly that I wondered if the whole cafe hadn't heard it. "Come on, Parker!" She whined, grabbing my arm with her free hand and dragging me towards the boys who, while waiting for their order, were busy signing autographs for four fans, who didn't look any older then 14. The girls were beaming from ear-to-ear and thanking both Ryan and Brendon profusely. They were gushing, obviously these girls loved them. Just four girls out of a multitude of many who were fawning over Panic! At The Disco. The boys were kind enough to sign each of the things the held out. Brendon even having to sign the shortest girl's pink tee shirt, but he did so without complaint.
"See you later girls." Brendon said smiling and giving a small wave to the girls.
"Thanks for being fans guys, we appreciate it." Ryan added, waving to the group of friends which were now hesitant to walk away after their celebrity encounter.
Finally the group left the cafe and Amy-Lia dragged me a little closer. I quit resisting and decided that it would look, and probably be, so much better if I just walked properly and didn't try to resist Amy's incessant tugging. She let go of my arm when she realized that I wasn't resisting anymore.
When we reached the both of them Amy-Lia's smooth, sleek persona slid back into place.
"Hey boys." She said, hitching her handbag further up her shoulder. "I'm Amy-Lia." She said, holding out her only free hand to shake both of theirs.
"Hey Amy-Lia. Nice to meet you." Ryan said politely, shaking the hand she held out.
Brendon murmured a hello and took her hand to shake as well.
Amy still hadn't introduced me, I doubt she would've unless Brendon hadn't said something about my being there. She was about to say something else when Brendon cut her off.
"Hey what's your name? I think I've seen you somewhere before."
I gave a small smile, "Parker Lewis." I said.
He grinned widely. "Parker Lewis? You mean like --"
"Yeah, like the television show. But aren't you a little young for that, kid?" I asked. I was playing with him. Amy didn't like it when boys, of any fame or of anything for that matter, looked twice at me. She hated it worse when they actually spoke to me. And you know what she hated even more then that? When they smiled at me.
To her, a smile was the best thing on the planet, especially when it was sincere. How she could tell it was sincere, I didn't know. I doubted she even knew what the word sincere meant but she held a sincere smile in high regard.
"Aren't you a little too young for that?" He shot back, quickly rubbing a hand over his growing grin. Either he thought my name was hilariously funny, or he was in an excellent mood this morning.
"I didn't name myself. My parents did and they are old enough for that." I replied.
Amy was getting antsy beside me. She was fidgeting with the lid of her cup and I could tell she was practically bursting to say something but she was trying her hardest not to act like a fool and interrupt.
Brendon laughed and raised his eyebrows. He slapped a hand softly down on the counter and his laughter faded away.
"My, my Brendon Urie, are you always this happy?" I asked, biting my lip to stifle a grin.
"Only when I meet pretty girls."
Amy-Lia snorted unceremoniously and quickly stifled her mouth with a hand. Brendon let out another loud chuckle and Ryan even cracked a smile. I couldn't help but to laugh either, but Amy-Lia looked mortified. A pink blush crept up into her cheeks, even her expertly caked on foundation couldn't hide the rosy colouration in her cheeks.
"Uh, I'm going to like go now." She stuttered, making a hasty dash for the door, which was hard in her stiletto boots but somehow she managed it and still didn't look completely shameful. I watched her go and then turned back to face Brendon and Ryan with a grin plastered on my face.
"Sorry about her, I better go and console her." I said regretfully. Then on cue the phone in my pocket vibrated.
"Woah, your jeans are buzzing." Brendon said as if he didn't realize I had a phone in my pocket.
"Brendon, it's a phone." I said matter-of-factly, pulling out the sidekick and showing it to him.
"Oh, right. I didn't think it would fit in your pocket." He said innocently, grabbing the first coffee that the clerk slid across the counter to him and passed it to Ryan, who opened the lid, took a whiff and passed it back to him.
"Wrong one, dude." Ryan said, holding out his hand for the other coffee, which Brendon passed to him in return for his own.
While they were busy figuring out who's coffee was who's, I took the chance to check the message I'd just received. It was from Amy-Lia and she wanted me to 'stop chatting up the amazingly hot Panic! boys and come outside' probably so she could whine to me about how much of a fool she'd made of herself. She didn't hesitate to add at the end of the message 'p.s. can you please give that cute, omg, cute Brendon guy my phone number?'
I looked up and noticed Brendon craning his neck to see the screen of my phone.
"Here," I said thrusting the sidekick into his hands. "Read it otherwise you'll end up straining your neck or something"
Brendon flushed a faint pink from embarrassment of getting caught being nosy and probably from Amy's 'p.s'. Ryan coughed a little as he choked on the sip of coffee he had just taken, because he was reading over Brendon's shoulder and he seemed to find Amy's message amusing.
"Don't give me her number. Please don't. Then I'll have a reason to not have to call her." He said, looking at me with his dark brown eyes widened in a pleading look.
"Just lose the number. That way I won't get in trouble either." I said, shrugging and grabbing my sidekick back from him.
"I don't want her number." He said and paused to take a sip from his coffee cup. I went to say something but he cut me off. "I want yours."
"Give me your phone then." I said nonchalantly. He passed it to me and I quickly typed my digits into his address book and then slid it shut again and passed it back.
"Done." I smiled at him.
"You put that other chick's number in there, Amy-Leah or whatever, didn't you?"
"Call it and find out." I replied waving my phone haphazardly.
He pressed dial and suddenly my phone rang out to the tune of Marilyn Manson's cover of Tainted Love. He slid his phone shut and I slid mine back into my pocket.
"See?" I said lightly. "That's my number right there." I pointed idly at his phone's screen.
"I just thought I'd check, y'know? You could've given me her number as a joke." He said putting his phone back into the pocket of his jacket.
"And you think I'd flip off a rock star?" I said in mock hurt, pressing my free hand to my mouth.
Brendon gave me a lopsided half-smile and shrugged. "You never know with people."
"True." I nodded in agreement, then my pants pocket buzzed again. "Princess calls. I'd better go before she feels the need to come back in here and get me. See ya around." I waved and began walking out of the Starbucks cafe.
"Don't you lose, now, Parker Lewis." Brendon called out to me with a grin and a wave.
"Not funny, Brendon. Not funny at all." I called back playfully before I pushed open the door and stepped outside to see Amy-Lia sitting on a bench with her coffee to her lips.
"About time skank."
Parker had just left the coffee shop and I turned to Ryan who was giving me a strange look.
"That really wasn't funny Brendon. Man, you're a dork."
I pushed my red framed glasses further up my nose and grinned widely in the 'dorkiest' manner I could muster. "What can I say Ry, I'm a genuine certified dorky teen kid."
"Who's also a rock star." Ryan smiled at me as we left the store with coffee in hand.
I caught sight of Parker and her friend Amy-Lia heading for the parking lot. I had the urge to catch her up and talk some more with her but that might seem creepy. Actually that was definitely gonna seem creepy.
"Don't do it." I heard Ryan murmur.
"What! What? I wasn't going to do anything." I shouted guiltily. Ryan had caught me out. I hated when he did that.
Ryan just nodded like he didn't believe me but he had a knowing look in his eyes.
Man, I was smitten with a trashy scene model chick that I'd seen in a couple of magazines. I should've given up on the fake girls already, I mean after Audrey... Sure Parker was hot, but I should know better.
Her hair was a dark jet black colour with bright crimson red and ocean blue streaks running through it. Her hair was layered heavily and it was long. Her fringe was thick and pinned to the side with a small skull clip, and it still managed to cover one of her eyes. Her eyes were a deep, dark brown colour and she lined them thickly in black eyeliner. Her eyelashes were fake, man, they looked fake. If they were real then I was the Pop 'n Fresh Dough Boy. But the fakeness suited her in some strange way. Her nose was pierced and so was her lip, twice, in snakebites. I noticed that both of her ears had been pierced too, one having a bar running through her cartilage. He lips were a bright red colour and her skin was pale and flawless. Probably only the work of good makeup artistry and concealer. She had been wearing tight red skinny jeans with black converses and a plain black tee shirt with a checkered black and white vest over the top. I noticed several tattoos on her too, she'd had some on her arms and I noticed one just above her collar bone when her tee shirt shifted but I couldn't actually catch a glimpse of what they were. The only two tattoos I could actually figure out were the two on her fingers; one on each of her pinky fingers. Each a small star, one was hollowed and the other wasn't.
Her look was different, it was interesting and I didn't usually go for the fake looking girls but her personality seemed real, not fake like her friend or fake like the rest of her. She seemed... nice. Now I just really wanted to know more about her. She was an enigma to me. I liked to figure out people, figure out their mysteries. I liked secrets but I was terrible at keeping them. It just felt nice knowing them. The trust that came when people tell you secrets is a rush. It's nice to have trust. To be trusted.
"Yo, Brendon." Ryan clicked his fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Brendon." He said again, still clicking his fingers.
"Sorry, what?" I snapped back to reality.
"You zoned out massively." Ryan told me.
"Oh, right." I said. "Sorry about that man, just... thinking."
"Quit apologizing and lets just get back to the hotel." Ryan said and I began to nod in reply when Ryan added, "Then you can tell Jon and Spence about your new girly crush." He grinned at me but quit grinning immediately when I smacked him in the shoulder.
"Ow, Brendon. Don't be such a bitch."
[A/N] A little something I decided to write from boredom and maybe because I feel when I write characters, I should actually describe them properly. Now I don't actually have a plotline for this but I do have a moral so I don't know if I'm actually going to go anywhere with this but please tell me if you like it because if you guys liked it then I may just have to write more. If not, I'll just scrap it and continue to work on my other fic. So please, go ahead, R&R. =]
Also, I've been wanting to call a character Parker Lewis for awhile and I know that it's not necessarily a female name. Have you not seen that show though? I know it's a bit old, but it's classic and I'm probably a little to young for it too. And also I know that the characters in this story are actually probably old enough to have seen Parker Lewis Can't Lose but just imagine that both Brendon and Parker are sorely deprived children, who at the age of 3-5ish never got to see Parker Lewis Can't Lose, lol.
Also note the FOB reference with Parker Lewis Can't Lose (But I'm Gonna Give It My Best Shot). Probably would've been more appropriate as a FOB fic, maybe. But, eh. I shall shut up now.