Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Trying Not To Make A Scene
[A/N] Wow. So I'm pretty lame and haven't posted in two weeks. I'm sorry, please forgive me!
Thank you to SomeoneIveNeverMet and SeeStraightUp for reviewing. :]
Chapter Four: In The Night Light, We Still Shine Bright
For the first time in a painfully long time, Brendon was genuinely happy. Around Abigail, Brendon felt like he wasn't obligated to be someone else. He didn't need to be hyperactive and ecstatic around here. When he was with her, he felt natural; who he really was when no one was looking. He wasn't wearing a mask or the skin of the person he needed to be. Brendon was himself, something he hadn't truly and completely been for a very long while, and he was happy about it. In fact, he was happy as well. Although he had spent such little time with Abigail, she somehow managed to tickle his being with a bit of much needed reassurance that there was someone in the world that might be for him.
Brendon thought about this as he and Abigail neared the Chinese restaurant where they would order food. There was an unusual but welcome bounce in his stride while he walked alongside her, thieving small amounts of ice cream that didn't belong to him. "I like strawberry." Brendon said childishly.
"Me too."
"Abby...Can we please trade? Please?" He begged.
"Brendon, no." She started. He stared at Abigail when she scolded him about scaring the ice cream parlor's employee, Brian, just to order something he already knew he would get. He didn't actually pay full attention to her because he knew that he always got his way in the end. All he needed to do was look at her with big, adoring eyes. "...and now you don't want it?"
"Yes."
"No." she said firmly.
"But," He flashed his desperate looking brown eyes at her. She stalled for less than a moment, and Brendon could have sworn he saw an emotion that he was unfamiliar with flicker faintly through her gaze. In the next second, she was giving in to him and reluctantly handed him her ice cream. Brendon's face lit up immediately. He exclaimed a very loud, "THANK YOU!" and hugged her seemingly fragile frame from the side, noticing a small smile and an outrageously rosy color filling her cheeks that she tried so hard to hide.
Brendon convinced Abigail that lunch was on him, and she let him order the food under the circumstance that he tried to act as normal as possible. He knew this meat that he was not to scare the employees in any way. After clarifying that he would like the food in the "little white and red food containers, please", Brendon proceeded in pointing and choosing any dish that looked remotely delicious, including three different types of spicy chicken, aside from at least five other entrees.
When he was through with ordering, he carried over the takeout to where Abigail was waiting, not thinking twice about the huge smile plastered on his face.
"I think you might have overdone it with the ordering," Abigail said, eyeing the bags in each of his hands. She extended one of her own hands in an offer to carry one of the bags.
He gave one to her and shook his head. "I don't think so. Shall we head out?"
"Let's go. I was thinking we could eat on the beach. Or the pier." Abigail told him, pushing the door open. What they saw beyond the doors was unexpected, but not entirely a surprise. "I guess not."
It was pouring. Masses of fat rain drops splattered onto the ground. Brendon and Abigail looked at each other. "How about we eat at your place?"
Abigail scrunched her face. "We'd be walking a very long way."
"Oh," Brendon said. "We could eat here..." he suggested, looking at the packed restaurant.
Abigail smiled and gave him a look that said, "Yeah, right."
"Uh..." Brendon stalled, running a hand though his hair. "The hotel I'm checked in is just down the street. We could run over and eat there." he said slowly. He was suggestive at the best of times, but at the current moment, he wished that he wasn’t.
She raised an eyebrow at him and nodded. "Okay." They stepped outside and together walked quickly to the hotel, skillfully avoiding the growing puzzles on the sidewalk.
Spread out on the floor in front of them was a magnificent smorgasbord of at least 3/4 of the entrees available at the restaurant. Brendon took a seat next to Abigail on the floor, furrowing his brow. He was looking through the hotel's catalogue of movies to purchase for viewing in the room. "There's nothing to watch," he said, sounding defeated.
"Give me that," Abigail told him. Brendon handed over the remote control. After a minute or so, she proudly grinned at her find. "Look, it's just started."
Brendon guided his eyes to the screen. "The Princess Bride! I love this movie!" he yelled.
"You see? We're too cool to order movies," Abigail said, picking up her food. "Thank you for lunch, Brendon."
"No problem," he said, starting to eat as well.
Time flew as they watched and echoed the on goings of the film. Repeatedly they heard themselves exclaim, "Rodents of unusual size!", or "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
"I can't believe it's still raining! It's been hours," Abigail sighed, conceding her defeat in the intense game of Mario Kart she had been playing with Brendon. "When it stops raining so hard, I'm going out to the beach," she said, pointing to where the water met the sand, just outside the window. "Would you like to join me? We can dance in the rain and freeze our asses off in the water at the same time! It'll be great," Abigail said with dreamy eyes.
Brendon laughed at the thought of her suggestion. "Okay..." But soon he realized that he was beginning to sound like Ryan. Brendon was usually the one to come up with crazy ideas, and Ryan would constantly be looking at him strangely, shooting him down. "That sounds fun," he added, feeling conscious.
"Good. Now start the game. I'm going to beat you this time," Abigail said, determined.
"You wish. You said that an hour ago and I am still undefeated."
"Whatever. You're just scared," threatened Abigail, sticking out her tongue.
"Look," she said, nodding towards the window. Outside, a light pitter-patter replaced the sounds if a heavy rain. "It's getting dark out. Let's go?" Abigail asked Brendon, who was stretching as he stood up.
"Okay. Lead the way."
"Take off your shoes."
The shy sun hid behind the voluminous clouds while it slowly made its way to the horizon, casting an orange-purple glow onto the water. A light breeze swept through the leaves of tall, bent palm trees that lined the sand's edges, constantly sending tiny droplets of rain in the direction of their exposed faces. They walked onto the damp sand quickly, and Abigail wasted no time in rolling up her jeans so she could wade into the water. Brendon cautiously followed her into the swirling tides, taking a deep breath. He skillfully brushed his fingers against hers, using the passing breeze to his advantage. Carefully, Brendon joined their hands together, stealing a glance into Abigail's eyes, in case she did not approve of his actions. Instead she looked back at him, with a slight smile forming at the corners of her mouth. They stood there briefly, letting the water rush around their legs before the tide started to swell. Abigail pulled at Brendon's hand, leading him back to the sand. They sat down, hip to hip, to watch the sun melt into the horizon.
"Did you see the receptionist lady? She was totally staring at us just because we weren't wearing any shoes!" Abigail said loudly, bursting through the doorway of Brendon's room.
"We're drenched, Abby." Brendon quipped. Soon after the sun went down, it started to rain heavily again. Instead of going back inside like Brendon had suggested, Abigail insisted that they danced in the rain, swearing that it would be fun. Like the slacker Brendon was, he allowed himself to twirl and spin and do a jig with Abigail under the cover of darkness and rain. Once they could no longer see the stars through the thickness of the clouds, they both agreed that it would be a good idea to get out of the rain. Brendon handed her a towel, a shirt, and pajama bottoms. "You're welcome to stay if you'd like."
Abigail was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. I wouldn't want to intrude..." she said, unsure of herself. She wringed her hands.
"I don't mind, really. And it's late," Brendon's eyes were sincere. "And the least I could do is return the favor."
She sighed. "Alright. I will. Thanks."
"There’s my girl," Brendon smiled.
"I'm your girl?" Abigail smirked, placing a hand on one of her hips. "I see."
Brendon's face froze. "Shit," he thought. "Um, there's the bathroom tight there if you need to use it or something. I'll be out in the hallway. I need to... make a call," he said quickly, practically leaping to his phone. He scurried past the door and let out a deep breath. "Shitshitshit. Why do I have to be such a freak?" he asked himself. He took out his phone, instinctively dialing Ryan's number. After four long rings, he heard Ryan pick up the phone with an irritated groan. "Ughh, what do you want with me, person?"
"Hey, it's me," Brendon said breathlessly.
"Huh?" and exasperated Ryan said.
"Ryan, it's me. Brendon."
"Oh. Hey man, where have you been? No one's seen you in a while." Ryan wanted to know, his voice still dripping with sleep.
"I don't know. I'm in California. Anyway, listen. I met this girl and she's really great and I like her a lot."
"Okay..." Ryan said starting to feel just a little bit irritated that Brendon couldn't wait a few hours before sharing this wonderful news with him. He liked his sleep, and didn't appreciate the interruption.
"But see, the thing is that I may have already screwed it up. What am I supposed to do?" Brendon whined, feeling defeated. It was just his luck to ruin something potentially amazing.
"What the hell did you do?"
"I called her 'my girl'." Brendon pouted.
"How long have you known each other?"
"Like, a day. But it's not like I called her 'my whore', right?
"No, I guess not. Look, if she didn't take it the wrong way, she didn't take it the wrong way. That's it. Just don't be an asshole," Ryan voiced sagely. "Okay?"
Brendon sighed, feeling a little bit more relaxed. "Ok. Thank you." They were both quiet for a moment. "So what are you up to?"
"Bren, I love you, but I'm going to hang up now. I was sleeping, genius boy," barked Ryan.
"Oh, okay. I'm sorry! Bye, thanks." Brendon said, starting to feel a little bit guilty for waking up his best friend.
"It's alright. Bye."
Sucking in a deep breath, Brendon walked back into the room to find Abigail rubbing furiously at her hair. He gave her a half smile as he slipped into the bathroom to clean himself up and change his clothes. Coming out of the bathroom, he realized something: there was one bed and no couch. Brendon thought about his options. He could make Abigail take the floor, or he could take the floor. Either way, he knew sharing a bed with her was out of the question. He looked up at Abigail who was sitting on the bed. "I'll be on floor patrol tonight. Good night."
"What? No, that's not going to happen. I'll take the floor, I don't mind," Abigail suggested sweetly.
"But I do. Good night," Brendon said, walking over to the closet for the spare pillow and blanket.
"Brendon, don't be ridiculous. This bed isn't tiny. I don't see why we can't share even if you're so dead set on sleeping on the floor," Abigail told him, putting a hand dramatically on her chest. "And I trust you, completely."
"But... uh..." Brendon muttered.
"And since you don't snore, there shouldn't be an issue," Abigail said, getting in between the sheets on one side of the bed. "Okay?"
"Okay," Brendon nodded, climbing into bed, opposite of Abigail. There was a fair amount of space between them, Brendon observed. Maybe he shouldn’t stress himself out over an issue as minuscule as the one at hand. He even reconsidered calling it an issue; that was how calm he was trying to be. With his back turned towards her, Brendon turned off the light, saying, "Good night, Abby."
"Good night, Bren."
Brendon was never too fond clocks. They either ticket or buzzed, forever wishing to be noticed. The particular clock he was staring at happened to read 2:42 am in bold, bright red letters. "Awake, but still tired." he thought. The night liked to betray him often. It liked to give him a false sense of security: the ultimate comfort blanket to hide under, only to be snatched away by the morning's rays of light. Brendon wasn't too happy with the night. Tonight, or today, in a literal sense, his security blanket was disturbed. Tonight he was insecure, unsure about himself. Making a quarter turn so he was on his back, Brendon looked at the ceiling in hopes to fins something o lull him back to sleep. As he was bout to count the shapes he thought he saw in the ceiling, he noticed a warmth emitting from just next to him. He turned his head to see a sleeping Abigail, who had seemed to migrate from her side of the bed to his. Her body was very close, he thought. I was close enough that if he nudged his shoulder ever so slightly to his left, it would be touching the part of Abigail's back between her shoulder blades. Making a bold move, Brendon turned again, this time on his side like Abigail. Slowly, he put an arm around her sleeping form, and left his other one on the pillow next to his head. Suddenly, Abigail stirred. Brendon's heart beat faster, in fear that she would see this as a violation of personal space. Instead, Brendon felt Abigail's sleeping form move closer into him. Her head was now resting on Brendon's arm, and her back was pressed into his chest. Relieved, Brendon tightened his arm around her, and even thought it was close to impossible, moved a little bit closer to her. Maybe the night did betray him sometimes. Tonight, it made an exception.
[A/N] Even if it's not that great, I'd love feedback. Reading reviews is motivating, believe it or not. Thanks!
Thank you to SomeoneIveNeverMet and SeeStraightUp for reviewing. :]
Chapter Four: In The Night Light, We Still Shine Bright
For the first time in a painfully long time, Brendon was genuinely happy. Around Abigail, Brendon felt like he wasn't obligated to be someone else. He didn't need to be hyperactive and ecstatic around here. When he was with her, he felt natural; who he really was when no one was looking. He wasn't wearing a mask or the skin of the person he needed to be. Brendon was himself, something he hadn't truly and completely been for a very long while, and he was happy about it. In fact, he was happy as well. Although he had spent such little time with Abigail, she somehow managed to tickle his being with a bit of much needed reassurance that there was someone in the world that might be for him.
Brendon thought about this as he and Abigail neared the Chinese restaurant where they would order food. There was an unusual but welcome bounce in his stride while he walked alongside her, thieving small amounts of ice cream that didn't belong to him. "I like strawberry." Brendon said childishly.
"Me too."
"Abby...Can we please trade? Please?" He begged.
"Brendon, no." She started. He stared at Abigail when she scolded him about scaring the ice cream parlor's employee, Brian, just to order something he already knew he would get. He didn't actually pay full attention to her because he knew that he always got his way in the end. All he needed to do was look at her with big, adoring eyes. "...and now you don't want it?"
"Yes."
"No." she said firmly.
"But," He flashed his desperate looking brown eyes at her. She stalled for less than a moment, and Brendon could have sworn he saw an emotion that he was unfamiliar with flicker faintly through her gaze. In the next second, she was giving in to him and reluctantly handed him her ice cream. Brendon's face lit up immediately. He exclaimed a very loud, "THANK YOU!" and hugged her seemingly fragile frame from the side, noticing a small smile and an outrageously rosy color filling her cheeks that she tried so hard to hide.
Brendon convinced Abigail that lunch was on him, and she let him order the food under the circumstance that he tried to act as normal as possible. He knew this meat that he was not to scare the employees in any way. After clarifying that he would like the food in the "little white and red food containers, please", Brendon proceeded in pointing and choosing any dish that looked remotely delicious, including three different types of spicy chicken, aside from at least five other entrees.
When he was through with ordering, he carried over the takeout to where Abigail was waiting, not thinking twice about the huge smile plastered on his face.
"I think you might have overdone it with the ordering," Abigail said, eyeing the bags in each of his hands. She extended one of her own hands in an offer to carry one of the bags.
He gave one to her and shook his head. "I don't think so. Shall we head out?"
"Let's go. I was thinking we could eat on the beach. Or the pier." Abigail told him, pushing the door open. What they saw beyond the doors was unexpected, but not entirely a surprise. "I guess not."
It was pouring. Masses of fat rain drops splattered onto the ground. Brendon and Abigail looked at each other. "How about we eat at your place?"
Abigail scrunched her face. "We'd be walking a very long way."
"Oh," Brendon said. "We could eat here..." he suggested, looking at the packed restaurant.
Abigail smiled and gave him a look that said, "Yeah, right."
"Uh..." Brendon stalled, running a hand though his hair. "The hotel I'm checked in is just down the street. We could run over and eat there." he said slowly. He was suggestive at the best of times, but at the current moment, he wished that he wasn’t.
She raised an eyebrow at him and nodded. "Okay." They stepped outside and together walked quickly to the hotel, skillfully avoiding the growing puzzles on the sidewalk.
Spread out on the floor in front of them was a magnificent smorgasbord of at least 3/4 of the entrees available at the restaurant. Brendon took a seat next to Abigail on the floor, furrowing his brow. He was looking through the hotel's catalogue of movies to purchase for viewing in the room. "There's nothing to watch," he said, sounding defeated.
"Give me that," Abigail told him. Brendon handed over the remote control. After a minute or so, she proudly grinned at her find. "Look, it's just started."
Brendon guided his eyes to the screen. "The Princess Bride! I love this movie!" he yelled.
"You see? We're too cool to order movies," Abigail said, picking up her food. "Thank you for lunch, Brendon."
"No problem," he said, starting to eat as well.
Time flew as they watched and echoed the on goings of the film. Repeatedly they heard themselves exclaim, "Rodents of unusual size!", or "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
"I can't believe it's still raining! It's been hours," Abigail sighed, conceding her defeat in the intense game of Mario Kart she had been playing with Brendon. "When it stops raining so hard, I'm going out to the beach," she said, pointing to where the water met the sand, just outside the window. "Would you like to join me? We can dance in the rain and freeze our asses off in the water at the same time! It'll be great," Abigail said with dreamy eyes.
Brendon laughed at the thought of her suggestion. "Okay..." But soon he realized that he was beginning to sound like Ryan. Brendon was usually the one to come up with crazy ideas, and Ryan would constantly be looking at him strangely, shooting him down. "That sounds fun," he added, feeling conscious.
"Good. Now start the game. I'm going to beat you this time," Abigail said, determined.
"You wish. You said that an hour ago and I am still undefeated."
"Whatever. You're just scared," threatened Abigail, sticking out her tongue.
"Look," she said, nodding towards the window. Outside, a light pitter-patter replaced the sounds if a heavy rain. "It's getting dark out. Let's go?" Abigail asked Brendon, who was stretching as he stood up.
"Okay. Lead the way."
"Take off your shoes."
The shy sun hid behind the voluminous clouds while it slowly made its way to the horizon, casting an orange-purple glow onto the water. A light breeze swept through the leaves of tall, bent palm trees that lined the sand's edges, constantly sending tiny droplets of rain in the direction of their exposed faces. They walked onto the damp sand quickly, and Abigail wasted no time in rolling up her jeans so she could wade into the water. Brendon cautiously followed her into the swirling tides, taking a deep breath. He skillfully brushed his fingers against hers, using the passing breeze to his advantage. Carefully, Brendon joined their hands together, stealing a glance into Abigail's eyes, in case she did not approve of his actions. Instead she looked back at him, with a slight smile forming at the corners of her mouth. They stood there briefly, letting the water rush around their legs before the tide started to swell. Abigail pulled at Brendon's hand, leading him back to the sand. They sat down, hip to hip, to watch the sun melt into the horizon.
"Did you see the receptionist lady? She was totally staring at us just because we weren't wearing any shoes!" Abigail said loudly, bursting through the doorway of Brendon's room.
"We're drenched, Abby." Brendon quipped. Soon after the sun went down, it started to rain heavily again. Instead of going back inside like Brendon had suggested, Abigail insisted that they danced in the rain, swearing that it would be fun. Like the slacker Brendon was, he allowed himself to twirl and spin and do a jig with Abigail under the cover of darkness and rain. Once they could no longer see the stars through the thickness of the clouds, they both agreed that it would be a good idea to get out of the rain. Brendon handed her a towel, a shirt, and pajama bottoms. "You're welcome to stay if you'd like."
Abigail was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. I wouldn't want to intrude..." she said, unsure of herself. She wringed her hands.
"I don't mind, really. And it's late," Brendon's eyes were sincere. "And the least I could do is return the favor."
She sighed. "Alright. I will. Thanks."
"There’s my girl," Brendon smiled.
"I'm your girl?" Abigail smirked, placing a hand on one of her hips. "I see."
Brendon's face froze. "Shit," he thought. "Um, there's the bathroom tight there if you need to use it or something. I'll be out in the hallway. I need to... make a call," he said quickly, practically leaping to his phone. He scurried past the door and let out a deep breath. "Shitshitshit. Why do I have to be such a freak?" he asked himself. He took out his phone, instinctively dialing Ryan's number. After four long rings, he heard Ryan pick up the phone with an irritated groan. "Ughh, what do you want with me, person?"
"Hey, it's me," Brendon said breathlessly.
"Huh?" and exasperated Ryan said.
"Ryan, it's me. Brendon."
"Oh. Hey man, where have you been? No one's seen you in a while." Ryan wanted to know, his voice still dripping with sleep.
"I don't know. I'm in California. Anyway, listen. I met this girl and she's really great and I like her a lot."
"Okay..." Ryan said starting to feel just a little bit irritated that Brendon couldn't wait a few hours before sharing this wonderful news with him. He liked his sleep, and didn't appreciate the interruption.
"But see, the thing is that I may have already screwed it up. What am I supposed to do?" Brendon whined, feeling defeated. It was just his luck to ruin something potentially amazing.
"What the hell did you do?"
"I called her 'my girl'." Brendon pouted.
"How long have you known each other?"
"Like, a day. But it's not like I called her 'my whore', right?
"No, I guess not. Look, if she didn't take it the wrong way, she didn't take it the wrong way. That's it. Just don't be an asshole," Ryan voiced sagely. "Okay?"
Brendon sighed, feeling a little bit more relaxed. "Ok. Thank you." They were both quiet for a moment. "So what are you up to?"
"Bren, I love you, but I'm going to hang up now. I was sleeping, genius boy," barked Ryan.
"Oh, okay. I'm sorry! Bye, thanks." Brendon said, starting to feel a little bit guilty for waking up his best friend.
"It's alright. Bye."
Sucking in a deep breath, Brendon walked back into the room to find Abigail rubbing furiously at her hair. He gave her a half smile as he slipped into the bathroom to clean himself up and change his clothes. Coming out of the bathroom, he realized something: there was one bed and no couch. Brendon thought about his options. He could make Abigail take the floor, or he could take the floor. Either way, he knew sharing a bed with her was out of the question. He looked up at Abigail who was sitting on the bed. "I'll be on floor patrol tonight. Good night."
"What? No, that's not going to happen. I'll take the floor, I don't mind," Abigail suggested sweetly.
"But I do. Good night," Brendon said, walking over to the closet for the spare pillow and blanket.
"Brendon, don't be ridiculous. This bed isn't tiny. I don't see why we can't share even if you're so dead set on sleeping on the floor," Abigail told him, putting a hand dramatically on her chest. "And I trust you, completely."
"But... uh..." Brendon muttered.
"And since you don't snore, there shouldn't be an issue," Abigail said, getting in between the sheets on one side of the bed. "Okay?"
"Okay," Brendon nodded, climbing into bed, opposite of Abigail. There was a fair amount of space between them, Brendon observed. Maybe he shouldn’t stress himself out over an issue as minuscule as the one at hand. He even reconsidered calling it an issue; that was how calm he was trying to be. With his back turned towards her, Brendon turned off the light, saying, "Good night, Abby."
"Good night, Bren."
Brendon was never too fond clocks. They either ticket or buzzed, forever wishing to be noticed. The particular clock he was staring at happened to read 2:42 am in bold, bright red letters. "Awake, but still tired." he thought. The night liked to betray him often. It liked to give him a false sense of security: the ultimate comfort blanket to hide under, only to be snatched away by the morning's rays of light. Brendon wasn't too happy with the night. Tonight, or today, in a literal sense, his security blanket was disturbed. Tonight he was insecure, unsure about himself. Making a quarter turn so he was on his back, Brendon looked at the ceiling in hopes to fins something o lull him back to sleep. As he was bout to count the shapes he thought he saw in the ceiling, he noticed a warmth emitting from just next to him. He turned his head to see a sleeping Abigail, who had seemed to migrate from her side of the bed to his. Her body was very close, he thought. I was close enough that if he nudged his shoulder ever so slightly to his left, it would be touching the part of Abigail's back between her shoulder blades. Making a bold move, Brendon turned again, this time on his side like Abigail. Slowly, he put an arm around her sleeping form, and left his other one on the pillow next to his head. Suddenly, Abigail stirred. Brendon's heart beat faster, in fear that she would see this as a violation of personal space. Instead, Brendon felt Abigail's sleeping form move closer into him. Her head was now resting on Brendon's arm, and her back was pressed into his chest. Relieved, Brendon tightened his arm around her, and even thought it was close to impossible, moved a little bit closer to her. Maybe the night did betray him sometimes. Tonight, it made an exception.
[A/N] Even if it's not that great, I'd love feedback. Reading reviews is motivating, believe it or not. Thanks!
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