Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Bet You Ten Bucks I Can Make You Regret Her

Could Things Get Any More Awkward?

by XxMyChemicalPanicsxX 4 reviews

Think of an awkward moment. Are you thinking? Multiply it by seven. Do you got it? Subtract it by two. Did you do it? Great. Now you have this chapter.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Erotica,Horror - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2008-04-22 - Updated: 2008-04-23 - 1057 words - Complete

0Unrated
Man do I suck when it comes to writing summaries! Im starting to notice that when I read them after theyre published. Oh well, at least it attracts people rite? Even though i dont possibly know how. But this ones my best one so far. i think. Just so u know i have on my thinking cap for this conundrum. lmao lemme get to the point. The more exciting parts are coming up soon so pwease dont give up on this craptastic thing. These first chapters are just fillers if you will. A salty little appetizer before you get to the mouthwatering entree and best of all the sugary dessert. lol. Of course I would describe a story as food.
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You know something, I really missed out on a lot of stuff. I mean for almost a year I forgot who these funny-smelling people who'd always try to talk to me were and how utterly random the conversations we'd have when I do decide to succumb to their nagging pleas for a verbal reply were. For instance, I learned that Jon has an absurd appreciation for strippers and/or prostitutes, Brendon secretly (well it's not a secret any more) likes the taste of gasoline (why this boy is drinking gasoline is beyond me but whatever), Spencer is the best French kisser in the world (ummmm.... no comment...) and my love for the scent of burning hair was revealed. But even longer than I've talked to people, or smiled, or slept, or eaten, or before what's-her-face
xAymi
..came... along, I hadn't laughed. And when I say laugh I don't mean that crazy, koo-koo bananas shit I was doing back at the cafe. I mean, really and actually laugh. Can you imagine talking to no one but yourself for over 300 days straight? It sounds fucking ridiculous doesn't it.
xNo.
Nobody asked you, okay.

Anyhoo, we'd been driving for about four to five hours before we stop at the hotel. I think it's the Hampton, or Ramada, or Holiday, I don't know one of those Inns. After getting off the bus we all go to get our bags. I spend about twenty minutes pulling every last one of my kabillion bags out of that storage thingie, doo-hickey under the bus because none of those rude asswipes bothered to help me so therefore I was the last person to enter the hotel's lobby. I already expected the worst when I realize it's gonna take me long. "The worst" meaning I'm gonna get the roommate with the horribly disgusting habits. The one that smells the worst out of all four of us. The one that kicks you off the bed in the middle of the night and has you kissing the strange colored carpet. But as I tugged, dragged, ripped, and tripped over my luggage, I didn't realizes how pleasant "the worst" really is. I walked into the lobby after getting my bags under control and almost immediately went pale when I saw who my roommate was. Standing there at the front desk chatting it with the front desk clerk was none other than Brendon. Oh, this is just perfect! Just fucking perfect! I stop dead in my tracks with a Oh-my-fucking-god-i-just-had-a-conversation-with-my-aunt-who-died-four-years-ago look plastered across my face. "You okay, Ry? You don't look so good." "I'm fine just a little cold" is what was supposed to come out of my mouth but all I do is stare at him, frozen in my spot with no sign of changing my facial expression anytime in the future. "Ry? Heeeeellllloooooooo? Ryan! Okay I appreciate the fact that you think I look hella schmexy today but do you think you could stop staring at me?" "Oh, sorry. Let's go to our room now. You got the key?" Great response right? Too bad I didn't get to use it! I was so close! I opened my mouth to say my reassuring words but it just stayed there. Hanging as low as it could go. Thank God Brendon was the dramatic person he was or I would still be in that one spot stinking up the hotel from my lack of showers and leaving the imprint of my Converse on the soft carpet. Brendon grabs me by my shoulders and my heart froze along with the rest of me. "SNAP OUT OF IT!!!" is all I hear as he jerks me back and forth, the back of my head hitting my upper back violently and my chin slamming repeatedly into my collarbone. And laughing. Laughing. Laughing? Oh God. Please don't tell me that's me. Please don't tell me while Brendon's frantically trying to shake me out of my trance I'm laughing my head off. Again. Oh God. "BRENNDON!!!," I manage to choke out, "STOOOPPP!!". I'm let go so abruptly I nearly fell over my bags. This time it's his turn to stare. So here we are. All three of us. Brendon, me, and the front desk clerk. He's staring at me. I 'm staring at him. She types on a computer. He blinks three times. I cough two times. She clicks her mouse five times.
My freezer of a body is finally given an ice pick and the dial all the way in the back of my brain turns to defrost.
I pick up my bags and give him a Can-we-just-go-to-the-room-now-I'm-really-tired-and-I-want-to-put-this-embarrassing-situation-behind-me look.
He gets what my eyes mutter and removes his pupils from mine, pick up his bags, and walks to the elevator.
I follow.
He presses the up button.
I watch.
The doors slide open and he steps in and locks his pupils with mine again. Giving me this I'm-so-afraid-of-you-and-for-you-right-now look.
Upon seeing this I step into the elevator with him and stare at the floor.
He presses a number.
The elevator moves.
Ding,ding,ding,ding,ding,ding,ding.
I count the dings.
He counts the seconds.
The elevator doors slide open and he gets in front of me and leads us to our room.
I follow again.
He stops.
I stop.
He sticks the key into that slot thingie.
A green light flashes and the door pops open.
He steps in.
I step in.
He throws his bags carelessly on the floor.
I gently place my bags beside the bed.
Bed.
Singular form of beds.
I think.
Well I guess I'm not sleeping tonight.
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