Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > A Road Called Loathing
Margot and Spencer sat on her couch, watching “Ed, Edd, and Eddy” on TV. Spencer was throwing popcorn into Margot’s mouth, making them both laugh when she missed, and cheer when he got it in. After a while, he began to pelt her with popcorn, tossing it into her hair and at her face.
“Stop Spencer!” she laughed, throwing a handful at him. He shot a handful her way, making Margot up-end the entire bowl into Spencer’s lap. He growled, and Margot jumped up, running around the room as Spencer chased her. They were both screaming and laughing wildly. Their game continued around the house as Margot did her best to escape her friend’s wrath.
“I’m gonna get you!” he yelled, pounding up the stairs after her. He was laughing and carrying a handful of the popcorn that had ended up in his lap.
“Never!” she laughed, running into her bathroom and trying to close the door before he got to it. Spencer slammed his body against the door, forcing it open. He grabbed Margot and began tickling her, at the same time smashing the popcorn into her hair. “No!” she gasped through her laughter.
Their chase continued back down to the first floor. Both kids froze at the foot of the stairs when they heard the doorbell. Margot smoothed her hair and answered it, sighing disgustedly when she saw who it was.
“What do you want?” she snarled as Brendon pushed his way into the house, clucking his tongue when he saw Spencer standing there, covered in popcorn and out of breath.
“Tsk tsk,” he said, eyebrows raised. “Boys in the house when Mommy and Daddy are gone? Donna and Richard would not like to know this.”
“What do you want, Brendon?” Margot repeated, ignoring his threats. She could count the number of times he’d actually ratted her out to her parents on one hand, because he didn’t want anyone to think he was a tattle-tale.
“I just got off the phone with my mom, and your mother asked that I make sure you packed everything. Which I was gonna do anyway, since I don’t want to have to be waiting around for you when it’s time to leave tomorrow.”
“I’ll get to it later. We’re busy.” Margot tried to push Brendon out the front door, but he stood fast, easily swatting her away with one hand.
“I can see that,” Brendon raised a critical eyebrow at Spencer, who just looked back with disdain. “Beat it, Smith.”
“Fuck you, you can’t throw my friends out,” Margot crossed her arms and cocked her hip.
Brendon turned to her calmly. “How about I call Donna and tell her that you haven’t actually spent this week at my house, like you were supposed to? How about I tell her that you stayed here, alone?”
Margot looked at him defiantly for a moment, then relented. “You better get outta here, Spencer. Sorry,” she added at the look he gave her. He shrugged, hugged Margot, and walked out, turning and flipping Brendon off behind his back. Margot turned to Brendon.
“Well, now that you’ve effectively gotten my friend pissed at me, I suppose your work here is done. Bye,” she tried to push him out the door again.
“Ah-ah-ah, not so fast. I still have to go through your shit with you to make sure you have it all.” Brendon was obviously relishing in the fact that his mere presence alone was rubbing Margot the wrong way.
“I can pack by myself, thank you.” Margot actually walked to the door this time, holding it wide-open and gesturing out of it, signaling that Brendon should up and get the hell out.
“I know you can, although how you managed it was always a mystery to me,” Brendon smirked, knowing that she hated to be called stupid, especially by him. “However, whether you will or not remains to be seen. We’re leaving tomorrow and you haven’t even started packing, yet.”
“I told you, I was gonna get around to it. It’s not like it takes forever to pack for a trip. I throw some clothes in a bag and I’m good.” Margot began climbing the stairs, seeing that it was no use trying to get Brendon out before he was good and ready to leave her alone.
“Oh, bull-shit.” Brendon followed her, slapping her ass to get her to move a little faster; he wasn’t here for his health, and the sooner he could get out, the better. “You know that you take forever and a day to figure out what you’re bringing, how often you’re gonna wear it, and calculating how many you might need of each thing.”
“Bite me, I like to be sure.” Margot slammed her suitcase open on her bed and opened her closet, beginning to just grab random articles of clothing and toss them messily on her bed. Brendon was going through each thing, examining it, and folding it neatly before placing it in her luggage. “Please don’t touch my things,” she snapped, continuing to grab more clothing.
“I’m helping. I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here.” Brendon shook his head at her insolence. He grinned wickedly as he folded her jeans. “Gee, Margot, maybe you should lay off the popcorn for a while; looks like it’s going all the wrong places, if you know what I mean.”
“I am not fat!” she yelled, throwing down the bundle of clothes that she’d been holding. Her fists clenched and she ground her teeth together.
“Maybe not yet, but I can really see you pushing that scale to ‘maximum overload’ in the foreseeable future.” Brendon bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud and continued to fold her clothes into the suitcase.
“Fuck you,” she said quietly, so angry she could barely speak or see straight. She began to help fold her own clothes, but her hands were shaking. Brendon never let her forget why it was that she hated him so much.
“So,” Brendon continued brightly, as though they’d been discussing the weather, or a movie they’d just seen. “You and Spencer: you fuck-buddies, or do you just let him put his tongue in your mouth every now and then to boost his morale?” And the nerve that he’d been so longing to pluck at finally snapped, and Margot was seeing red.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You don’t know anything, do you hear me? You are such an asshole, and I can’t stand to listen to your voice any fucking longer! Ugh! How did you get to be such a despicable human being? My friends and I are none of your business at all, and I’d thank you to keep your fucking nose out of it!” Margot was punching him in the chest and abdomen over and over again, but it wasn’t really doing much to Brendon, who towered over her and had a good 30-40 pounds on the girl.
“Violence is not an admired trait in a young lady, and you might do well to learn to control your temper, missy.” Brendon was completely unfazed by her outburst. If anything, it only spurred him to continue pushing her buttons. “And anyway, what do I care if you’re fucking Spencer Smith? Although, I must say, even you are a little out of his league. Just giving him false hope, aren’t you? I mean…”
Margot continued to fold, her eyes boring a hole in the suitcase as she struggled to block Brendon’s voice out of her head. He’s just trying to get a rise, don’t do it…don’t give in…don’t give him what he wants…
“…And then there’s the whole deal with everyone at school. What will they all say when they find out that you two are quite a bit more than ‘just friends’? And they’re bound to find out, I mean, it’s only a matter of time before Smith lets slip…” Brendon continued to rattle on, striving to push that button at least one more time before he left.
In her anger, Margot was shaking so badly that her clothes weren’t coming out folded as much as crumpled in heaps, which Brendon was taking the liberty to re-fold. Through her fury, Margot wondered if it were that obvious that she liked Spencer, and had for a very long time. Did Brendon know this, or was he just fucking with her? Either way, she couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing the truth.
“Shut up,” she whispered, not trusting her voice at any higher volume.
“You know, Mar-Bear,” Brendon continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. “You probably wouldn’t be getting so angry about this if it weren’t true. So tell all: How far have you gone with Smith? You do know that he’s 18 and you’re 16, and that could be classified as rape in some states, right? Tsk, tsk, and what would Donna and Richard think if they found out that their baby girl has been fooling around with the boy that they let spend the night more than a few times? Think what that would do to the relationship…”
Margot couldn’t take it anymore. One way or another, she would get Brendon out before he had a chance to make her say something she really didn’t want to say. Trying to force him out physically would definitely not work, seeing as he was so much bigger and stronger, and asking him to leave certainly wouldn’t do anything, so…
Margot walked out of her bedroom, heading for the stairs.
“Oh no, Mar-Bear, we’re not done packing yet.” Brendon sauntered out behind her, intending to drag her back in by the hair if he had to.
“Fuck you, Brendon,” she said over her shoulder. She kept walking down the stairs and out the door, knowing that Brendon would follow. If there was one advantage to being tortured by the boy for her whole life, it was that he had become somewhat predictable.
Brendon did follow her out onto the street, chastising her for not finishing her packing, for sleeping with Spencer, blah, blah, blah…
Suddenly, Margot veered and ran right back the way she had come, into her house. By the time Brendon realized what she was doing, the door was shut, locked, and bolted against his meager attempts to get back in the house. He yelled empty threats through the door (“I’ll call Donna, Margot!”), but Margot ignored them and went upstairs to finish packing.
Second chapter. Yep. So far, I'm having a lot of fun writing this. I have a lot of little ideas in my head and they're all vying to be first to pop up. For that, I suppose, you'll have to stay tuned and see. Please go comment/subscribe. I enjoy seeing it. Okay. OverAndOutxx
“Stop Spencer!” she laughed, throwing a handful at him. He shot a handful her way, making Margot up-end the entire bowl into Spencer’s lap. He growled, and Margot jumped up, running around the room as Spencer chased her. They were both screaming and laughing wildly. Their game continued around the house as Margot did her best to escape her friend’s wrath.
“I’m gonna get you!” he yelled, pounding up the stairs after her. He was laughing and carrying a handful of the popcorn that had ended up in his lap.
“Never!” she laughed, running into her bathroom and trying to close the door before he got to it. Spencer slammed his body against the door, forcing it open. He grabbed Margot and began tickling her, at the same time smashing the popcorn into her hair. “No!” she gasped through her laughter.
Their chase continued back down to the first floor. Both kids froze at the foot of the stairs when they heard the doorbell. Margot smoothed her hair and answered it, sighing disgustedly when she saw who it was.
“What do you want?” she snarled as Brendon pushed his way into the house, clucking his tongue when he saw Spencer standing there, covered in popcorn and out of breath.
“Tsk tsk,” he said, eyebrows raised. “Boys in the house when Mommy and Daddy are gone? Donna and Richard would not like to know this.”
“What do you want, Brendon?” Margot repeated, ignoring his threats. She could count the number of times he’d actually ratted her out to her parents on one hand, because he didn’t want anyone to think he was a tattle-tale.
“I just got off the phone with my mom, and your mother asked that I make sure you packed everything. Which I was gonna do anyway, since I don’t want to have to be waiting around for you when it’s time to leave tomorrow.”
“I’ll get to it later. We’re busy.” Margot tried to push Brendon out the front door, but he stood fast, easily swatting her away with one hand.
“I can see that,” Brendon raised a critical eyebrow at Spencer, who just looked back with disdain. “Beat it, Smith.”
“Fuck you, you can’t throw my friends out,” Margot crossed her arms and cocked her hip.
Brendon turned to her calmly. “How about I call Donna and tell her that you haven’t actually spent this week at my house, like you were supposed to? How about I tell her that you stayed here, alone?”
Margot looked at him defiantly for a moment, then relented. “You better get outta here, Spencer. Sorry,” she added at the look he gave her. He shrugged, hugged Margot, and walked out, turning and flipping Brendon off behind his back. Margot turned to Brendon.
“Well, now that you’ve effectively gotten my friend pissed at me, I suppose your work here is done. Bye,” she tried to push him out the door again.
“Ah-ah-ah, not so fast. I still have to go through your shit with you to make sure you have it all.” Brendon was obviously relishing in the fact that his mere presence alone was rubbing Margot the wrong way.
“I can pack by myself, thank you.” Margot actually walked to the door this time, holding it wide-open and gesturing out of it, signaling that Brendon should up and get the hell out.
“I know you can, although how you managed it was always a mystery to me,” Brendon smirked, knowing that she hated to be called stupid, especially by him. “However, whether you will or not remains to be seen. We’re leaving tomorrow and you haven’t even started packing, yet.”
“I told you, I was gonna get around to it. It’s not like it takes forever to pack for a trip. I throw some clothes in a bag and I’m good.” Margot began climbing the stairs, seeing that it was no use trying to get Brendon out before he was good and ready to leave her alone.
“Oh, bull-shit.” Brendon followed her, slapping her ass to get her to move a little faster; he wasn’t here for his health, and the sooner he could get out, the better. “You know that you take forever and a day to figure out what you’re bringing, how often you’re gonna wear it, and calculating how many you might need of each thing.”
“Bite me, I like to be sure.” Margot slammed her suitcase open on her bed and opened her closet, beginning to just grab random articles of clothing and toss them messily on her bed. Brendon was going through each thing, examining it, and folding it neatly before placing it in her luggage. “Please don’t touch my things,” she snapped, continuing to grab more clothing.
“I’m helping. I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here.” Brendon shook his head at her insolence. He grinned wickedly as he folded her jeans. “Gee, Margot, maybe you should lay off the popcorn for a while; looks like it’s going all the wrong places, if you know what I mean.”
“I am not fat!” she yelled, throwing down the bundle of clothes that she’d been holding. Her fists clenched and she ground her teeth together.
“Maybe not yet, but I can really see you pushing that scale to ‘maximum overload’ in the foreseeable future.” Brendon bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud and continued to fold her clothes into the suitcase.
“Fuck you,” she said quietly, so angry she could barely speak or see straight. She began to help fold her own clothes, but her hands were shaking. Brendon never let her forget why it was that she hated him so much.
“So,” Brendon continued brightly, as though they’d been discussing the weather, or a movie they’d just seen. “You and Spencer: you fuck-buddies, or do you just let him put his tongue in your mouth every now and then to boost his morale?” And the nerve that he’d been so longing to pluck at finally snapped, and Margot was seeing red.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You don’t know anything, do you hear me? You are such an asshole, and I can’t stand to listen to your voice any fucking longer! Ugh! How did you get to be such a despicable human being? My friends and I are none of your business at all, and I’d thank you to keep your fucking nose out of it!” Margot was punching him in the chest and abdomen over and over again, but it wasn’t really doing much to Brendon, who towered over her and had a good 30-40 pounds on the girl.
“Violence is not an admired trait in a young lady, and you might do well to learn to control your temper, missy.” Brendon was completely unfazed by her outburst. If anything, it only spurred him to continue pushing her buttons. “And anyway, what do I care if you’re fucking Spencer Smith? Although, I must say, even you are a little out of his league. Just giving him false hope, aren’t you? I mean…”
Margot continued to fold, her eyes boring a hole in the suitcase as she struggled to block Brendon’s voice out of her head. He’s just trying to get a rise, don’t do it…don’t give in…don’t give him what he wants…
“…And then there’s the whole deal with everyone at school. What will they all say when they find out that you two are quite a bit more than ‘just friends’? And they’re bound to find out, I mean, it’s only a matter of time before Smith lets slip…” Brendon continued to rattle on, striving to push that button at least one more time before he left.
In her anger, Margot was shaking so badly that her clothes weren’t coming out folded as much as crumpled in heaps, which Brendon was taking the liberty to re-fold. Through her fury, Margot wondered if it were that obvious that she liked Spencer, and had for a very long time. Did Brendon know this, or was he just fucking with her? Either way, she couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing the truth.
“Shut up,” she whispered, not trusting her voice at any higher volume.
“You know, Mar-Bear,” Brendon continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. “You probably wouldn’t be getting so angry about this if it weren’t true. So tell all: How far have you gone with Smith? You do know that he’s 18 and you’re 16, and that could be classified as rape in some states, right? Tsk, tsk, and what would Donna and Richard think if they found out that their baby girl has been fooling around with the boy that they let spend the night more than a few times? Think what that would do to the relationship…”
Margot couldn’t take it anymore. One way or another, she would get Brendon out before he had a chance to make her say something she really didn’t want to say. Trying to force him out physically would definitely not work, seeing as he was so much bigger and stronger, and asking him to leave certainly wouldn’t do anything, so…
Margot walked out of her bedroom, heading for the stairs.
“Oh no, Mar-Bear, we’re not done packing yet.” Brendon sauntered out behind her, intending to drag her back in by the hair if he had to.
“Fuck you, Brendon,” she said over her shoulder. She kept walking down the stairs and out the door, knowing that Brendon would follow. If there was one advantage to being tortured by the boy for her whole life, it was that he had become somewhat predictable.
Brendon did follow her out onto the street, chastising her for not finishing her packing, for sleeping with Spencer, blah, blah, blah…
Suddenly, Margot veered and ran right back the way she had come, into her house. By the time Brendon realized what she was doing, the door was shut, locked, and bolted against his meager attempts to get back in the house. He yelled empty threats through the door (“I’ll call Donna, Margot!”), but Margot ignored them and went upstairs to finish packing.
Second chapter. Yep. So far, I'm having a lot of fun writing this. I have a lot of little ideas in my head and they're all vying to be first to pop up. For that, I suppose, you'll have to stay tuned and see. Please go comment/subscribe. I enjoy seeing it. Okay. OverAndOutxx
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