Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > A Road Called Loathing
When Brendon awoke, he found himself between two things: something very soft and warm, and something firm and leathery. He figured the leathery thing was the car seat, but what was the lovely, soft, warm thing his body was curled around? And why was he naked? He didn’t remember changing out of his clothes last night. Last night…
He opened his eyes, and had to stifle a gasp. He got a full view of the back of a head of curly red hair. His arm was wrapped around a small, feminine waist, and he got a whiff of fruity-scented shampoo. Strangely enough, his first instinct not to jump, or push her away, but to hold her a bit tighter and press his face into the back of her neck. What had he done?
Margot was roused out of sleep by something pressing into the back of her neck. Something very warm was cradling her body, and she turned over to see what it was. She screamed.
“Oh my God!” She jumped, falling to the floor of the car and looking up at Brendon, wide-eyed and shocked.
“Margot! Margot! I can explain!” He couldn’t, of course, but he wanted her to calm down. It kind of stung that she reacted so badly to him.
“Explain what? Explain what!” Margot got back on the seat, but scooted to the opposite edge from Brendon, trying to cover herself up as she did so.
“I--I--I…” He didn’t know what to say. Sorry? It was fun? It was the best he’d ever had? He almost gasped at that thought. Where had that come from?
“You what? Do you remember what happened, Brendon, or did you black out again? Hmm? Hmm?” Margot grabbed the duffel bag that Brendon had brought, hauling it into her lap to cover herself up. It worked, somewhat. She felt less exposed, anyway.
“Of course I remember,” he said weakly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Cover yourself!” she snarled, throwing a T-shirt at him and looking away while he placed it in his lap.
“There. I’m covered.”
Brendon wished she hadn’t looked back at him. The glaring anger in her eyes was more than he could handle at the moment. He was confused, and, for some reason, nervous.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Brendon swallowed his nerves, to be replaced with anger. Was she serious? “Me? What do I have to say for myself? You had sex with me, just the same as I had sex with you!”
“Shh!” Margot covered her mouth, looking around as though someone would be listening in.
“I had sex with Margot! I had sex with Margot! Attention, everyone! To whom it may concern, Margot fucked me last night, right here in this car!” Brendon yelled, cupping his hands over his mouth to increase the sound.
“Brendon, shut up!” Marot flung herself on top of him, covering his mouth with one hand and smacking him with the other. “Shut up!”
“Oh, so you want to do this again?” Brendon asked, cocking an eyebrow when she took her hand off his mouth.
“Ugh!” She jumped off him and scuttled back to the edge of the seat, recovering herself with the bag.
“Look, I don’t want to fight--”
“Oh, you just wanna fuck again, right?” Margot glowered.
“Yeah, like I’d touch you with a ten-foot pole while sober!” Brendon spat before he could help himself. It wasn’t even like he meant it, it had just come out.
“Fuck you! Obviously some part of you wants me if you had sex with me while you were drunk!”
“Yeah, or I was fucking drunk. Shit happens when you’re drunk, Margot. Look what happened nine months before you were born.”
“Not now, Brendon! Not fucking now, okay?” Margot wasn’t sure what she wanted to do to Brendon, but it was something along the lines of strangling Brendon and spitting in his face.
“Why? Because you lost your virginity to me? Big whoop, get over it.” Even to Brendon, it sounded so cruel. Big whoop? It must have been horrible for her to think that she had lost her virginity to someone that she hated, that had always been so awful to her…
“Don’t flatter yourself, you didn’t get my virginity!” Margot spewed before she could stop it. Her anger was blocking out her logic, and she just wanted to get Brendon where she thought it would hurt the most.
“Who did you lose it to, then?” Brendon asked, not quite believing her.
“Spencer Smith.”
All pity for Margot vanished, replaced with rage at Spencer, especially because Brendon knew that Spencer hadn’t told Margot about their friendship so long ago.
“What! Spencer? Spencer! You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Margot! I swear, if you’re not joking, then I’m gonna--”
“You’re gonna what, Brendon? Why do you care?”
“Because I know something you don’t about Spencer! And for him to…for him to--do that, to you, is just…Ugh!” Brendon began pulling on his clothes from the previous night, stretching his shirt as he got a bit over-zealous in his dressing. “Get dressed!” he snapped at Margot, who glared at him for a moment before pulling on her clothes reluctantly.
The minute they were both dressed, Brendon grabbed Margot by the arm and hauled her out of the car, positively dragging her to the payphone outside the bar.
“What’s Spencer’s number?” he demanded, picking up the receiver and inserting a few quarters from his pocket.
“I’m not telling--” she began.
“Margot!” Brendon yelled, slamming his hand against the side of the phone wall. “Give me the fucking number, now! If you don’t, I swear to God, when we get back, I’m beating the shit out of Spencer!”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re so buff, right? I could overpower you, Brendon,” Margot sneered, flipping him off as well.
“Even if I couldn’t overpower him, I’m pretty sure that all of my friends put together could. And I’m pretty sure that Spencer doesn’t have the same advantage. So give me the fucking number, Margot.”
Margot sighed and stepped forward, knowing he was right. She punched in the phone number and waited, holding her breath as Brendon waited for Spencer to answer. The receiver was very loud, so Margot heard everything on the other end.
“Hello?” came Spencer’s voice, croaking sleepily. Margot felt bad for waking him so early to be reamed out by Brendon, who obviously didn’t feel the same way.
“Spencer!” Brendon barked.
“Brendon?” Spencer’s voice sounded bewildered on the phone.
“Spencer, wake the fuck up, ‘cause we have shit to talk about right now.”
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He opened his eyes, and had to stifle a gasp. He got a full view of the back of a head of curly red hair. His arm was wrapped around a small, feminine waist, and he got a whiff of fruity-scented shampoo. Strangely enough, his first instinct not to jump, or push her away, but to hold her a bit tighter and press his face into the back of her neck. What had he done?
Margot was roused out of sleep by something pressing into the back of her neck. Something very warm was cradling her body, and she turned over to see what it was. She screamed.
“Oh my God!” She jumped, falling to the floor of the car and looking up at Brendon, wide-eyed and shocked.
“Margot! Margot! I can explain!” He couldn’t, of course, but he wanted her to calm down. It kind of stung that she reacted so badly to him.
“Explain what? Explain what!” Margot got back on the seat, but scooted to the opposite edge from Brendon, trying to cover herself up as she did so.
“I--I--I…” He didn’t know what to say. Sorry? It was fun? It was the best he’d ever had? He almost gasped at that thought. Where had that come from?
“You what? Do you remember what happened, Brendon, or did you black out again? Hmm? Hmm?” Margot grabbed the duffel bag that Brendon had brought, hauling it into her lap to cover herself up. It worked, somewhat. She felt less exposed, anyway.
“Of course I remember,” he said weakly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Cover yourself!” she snarled, throwing a T-shirt at him and looking away while he placed it in his lap.
“There. I’m covered.”
Brendon wished she hadn’t looked back at him. The glaring anger in her eyes was more than he could handle at the moment. He was confused, and, for some reason, nervous.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Brendon swallowed his nerves, to be replaced with anger. Was she serious? “Me? What do I have to say for myself? You had sex with me, just the same as I had sex with you!”
“Shh!” Margot covered her mouth, looking around as though someone would be listening in.
“I had sex with Margot! I had sex with Margot! Attention, everyone! To whom it may concern, Margot fucked me last night, right here in this car!” Brendon yelled, cupping his hands over his mouth to increase the sound.
“Brendon, shut up!” Marot flung herself on top of him, covering his mouth with one hand and smacking him with the other. “Shut up!”
“Oh, so you want to do this again?” Brendon asked, cocking an eyebrow when she took her hand off his mouth.
“Ugh!” She jumped off him and scuttled back to the edge of the seat, recovering herself with the bag.
“Look, I don’t want to fight--”
“Oh, you just wanna fuck again, right?” Margot glowered.
“Yeah, like I’d touch you with a ten-foot pole while sober!” Brendon spat before he could help himself. It wasn’t even like he meant it, it had just come out.
“Fuck you! Obviously some part of you wants me if you had sex with me while you were drunk!”
“Yeah, or I was fucking drunk. Shit happens when you’re drunk, Margot. Look what happened nine months before you were born.”
“Not now, Brendon! Not fucking now, okay?” Margot wasn’t sure what she wanted to do to Brendon, but it was something along the lines of strangling Brendon and spitting in his face.
“Why? Because you lost your virginity to me? Big whoop, get over it.” Even to Brendon, it sounded so cruel. Big whoop? It must have been horrible for her to think that she had lost her virginity to someone that she hated, that had always been so awful to her…
“Don’t flatter yourself, you didn’t get my virginity!” Margot spewed before she could stop it. Her anger was blocking out her logic, and she just wanted to get Brendon where she thought it would hurt the most.
“Who did you lose it to, then?” Brendon asked, not quite believing her.
“Spencer Smith.”
All pity for Margot vanished, replaced with rage at Spencer, especially because Brendon knew that Spencer hadn’t told Margot about their friendship so long ago.
“What! Spencer? Spencer! You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Margot! I swear, if you’re not joking, then I’m gonna--”
“You’re gonna what, Brendon? Why do you care?”
“Because I know something you don’t about Spencer! And for him to…for him to--do that, to you, is just…Ugh!” Brendon began pulling on his clothes from the previous night, stretching his shirt as he got a bit over-zealous in his dressing. “Get dressed!” he snapped at Margot, who glared at him for a moment before pulling on her clothes reluctantly.
The minute they were both dressed, Brendon grabbed Margot by the arm and hauled her out of the car, positively dragging her to the payphone outside the bar.
“What’s Spencer’s number?” he demanded, picking up the receiver and inserting a few quarters from his pocket.
“I’m not telling--” she began.
“Margot!” Brendon yelled, slamming his hand against the side of the phone wall. “Give me the fucking number, now! If you don’t, I swear to God, when we get back, I’m beating the shit out of Spencer!”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re so buff, right? I could overpower you, Brendon,” Margot sneered, flipping him off as well.
“Even if I couldn’t overpower him, I’m pretty sure that all of my friends put together could. And I’m pretty sure that Spencer doesn’t have the same advantage. So give me the fucking number, Margot.”
Margot sighed and stepped forward, knowing he was right. She punched in the phone number and waited, holding her breath as Brendon waited for Spencer to answer. The receiver was very loud, so Margot heard everything on the other end.
“Hello?” came Spencer’s voice, croaking sleepily. Margot felt bad for waking him so early to be reamed out by Brendon, who obviously didn’t feel the same way.
“Spencer!” Brendon barked.
“Brendon?” Spencer’s voice sounded bewildered on the phone.
“Spencer, wake the fuck up, ‘cause we have shit to talk about right now.”
Dun-dun-DUUUNNNN! Go comment and subscribe and I may update soooooooon. ;] OverAndOutxx
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