Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > A Road Called Loathing
The tension was increasing with every breath that either person took. Margot and Brendon could both feel it building, making both desperate for something to say. What was there to say?
“Brendon,” Margot began, taking a deep breath. “I just want to say--”
“That you’re sorry for breaking my heart? That you regret staying with Spencer, who’s obviously turned into a bigger prick than ever? Or do you wanna fuck again, just for old times’ sake?” Brendon stared ahead of him, gripping the wheel so tightly that the skin on his knuckles turned white.
“No. In fact, I wasn’t even going to bring that up. I was going to tell you that I’m sorry about your father. I loved him like he was family, and--”
“Save it,” he spat.
“Excuse me?”
“I said save it, Margot. I don’t need your sympathy. You’re trying to understand what I’m going through, right? You want to comfort me? Make me feel like there’s someone who gets me?”
Margot chose to overlook his rudeness, chalking it up to grief. “How are you doing?”
“Just fucking dandy.”
“You don’t seem to be coping well, Brendon.”
“At least I don’t eat my problems away, fatty.”
Margot took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to keep her temper. Fail. “You know, Brendon, I’m just trying to create a nice, tension-free conversation, here, and you’re acting like we’re still teenagers, arguing about stupid stuff from high school.”
“Maybe because that stupid stuff from high school changed the person I turned out to be, and you ended up just throwing it all back in my face!” Brendon glared at her before returning his attention to the road. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were narrow slits.
“Oh, please. That’s bullshit, Brendon. The day after you kissed me in my bedroom, I saw you strutting around the school with Victoria in your arms, and I knew that Spencer was right, and you hadn’t changed a bit.” She could have slapped him. That was Brendon; always playing the victim, even now.
“Because you rejected me, Margot! I was eighteen, what was I supposed to do? You rejected me, and I had Victoria at my fingertips, so of course I was going to try to make you jealous. And that lasted for about a week, by the way, because I couldn’t stand being with Victoria while knowing I could have had you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, Brendon, but get over it. It was high school, and flings don’t last, anyway. That’s life.” Margot threw up her arms and sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. The car was silent for a moment, save for the hum of tires on the road outside.
“By the way, I want you to know that I did not offer to pick you up. My mother asked, and I told her I would, for her sake. In no way did I want to take this trip with you,” Brendon informed her, staring at a spot above the steering wheel.
“Well, I’m so sorry that I’m inconveniencing you. I do owe you a lot for making my entire life a complete inconvenience. How I got out of adolescence without killing myself is a yet-unsolved mystery.”
“Don’t we all wish we had the answer to that one,” Brendon murmured.
“Fuck you. You’re how old? Twenty-five, or fifteen? It’s difficult to tell right now.”
“Oh, I see you’re still not funny at all. What’s the matter, Spenny not crack enough jokes to expose you to some humor? Oh no, that’s right, he just beats the shit out of you until you obey.”
Margot froze. She glanced quickly down at her arm, where his finger-marks were, indeed, beginning to turn purple. She gently touched her collar-bone, which was a bit tender from being tripped by Spencer and sent flying into the piano.
“The bruises don’t have to be visible to know that your relationship isn’t a healthy one, Margot,” Brendon said, his voice softening a bit. Despite the anger he’d been harboring toward her for all these years, Brendon’s heart ached, his fears of what was going on between Spencer and Margot being confirmed. Even in high school, Brendon had picked Spencer out as one to be abusive. Emotionally or physically didn’t really matter, if one could even really be considered “better” than the other.
“He loves me,” Margot said quietly. “He really does. He’s the only one. He just…loses his temper, sometimes…like we all do. Nobody’s perfect, but we love each other, and that’s enough to get us through the…less-glamorous parts.”
“If you were my girlfriend, Margot, I would never lose my temper to that point.”
“If I were your girlfriend, you’d have dumped me already. We wouldn’t have lasted out of high school, Brendon, even if we had ended up together.”
“The only reason you stayed with Spencer when he went off to college is because he had you wrapped so tightly around his finger that you didn’t know which way was up. He made himself your entire life, Margot, and the only way you could deal with it was to occupy all your time with him and not worry about anything or anyone else.”
“That is not true!” Margot said, turning a bit crimson.
“Oh, it’s perfectly true, and you’re just in denial, Margot. I wish you would have been able to see how a functional relationship worked before you threw yourself blindly into one with that asshole.” Brendon shook his head disbelievingly. How could Margot just make excuse upon excuse for that jackass?
“Spencer--” Margot began, but was interrupted by her phone. She sighed and checked the caller ID. Who else? “Hello, Spencer.”
“Speak of the devil!” called Brendon from the driver’s seat. Margot swatted him on the arm.
“Hey, babe,” Spencer said, either having not heard Brendon, or ignoring him. “I was just calling to make sure you were being a good girl.”
“I’m not five years old, Spencer,” Margot sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, whatever. Let me talk to Brendon.”
“Spencer, I don’t think that’s a good--”
“Hey, when I want your opinion, I’ll tell you what it is, okay? Now.”
Margot sighed again. “Here,” she said, handing the phone to a bewildered Brendon.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Brendon, it’s Spencer. Just wondering: were you thinking of putting some more moves on my girlfriend?”
“I wouldn’t touch your girlfriend with a ten-foot pole, Spencer. Don’t flatter yourself. She’s not desirable to anyone but you.”
“Oh, really? Because my busted lip and bruised eye from senior year say different.”
“Believe me, Spencer: if I wanted her, we’d be fucking already.”
“Right. When that happens, just be sure to call me and let me know how my dick tastes.”
Brendon made a thick noise of disgust in his throat, closing the phone and tossing it into Margot’s lap. “Fucking prick,” he muttered.
“What did he say?” Margot frowned at her phone, knowing that no good had come out of it.
“He told me to be sure and call him if we started fooling around, let him know how his dick tastes.”
“Oh, he did not say that,” Margot said, wrinkling her nose.
“I shit you not. That’s the man you’re in love with. I bet you’re so proud. Your mother must be charmed off her lollipops with lines like that.” Brendon gave a sharp bark of humorless laughter.
“Sure, he can be crude sometimes, but that’s nothing compared to how you act. Twenty-five years old, and you still act like this is a competition between the two of you. It’s not even really about me at all, is it?”
“Nope,” Brendon lied. “Not at all.” To him, at least, it was all about Margot. He’d wanted her so badly, wanted to be with her, wanted to be the one she called her boyfriend, best friend, and lover. He shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of these thoughts. Despite Spencer’s abusive nature, Margot was obviously still enamored with him, and wouldn’t be leaving him for anyone anytime soon.
“Well, congratulations on losing, then.” Margot confirmed the man’s hypothesis.
“Please. What kind of contest in Hell would award you as a prize?” From so many years of taunting, teasing, and misery-making, Brendon was completely unable to stem his flow of insults and put-downs towards Margot. It even stung him a bit every time something left his mouth, but he couldn’t stop it.
“Obviously, the one that you were competing in seven years ago.”
“Yeah, well, kids do stupid things. Your parents were how old when they had you?” Brendon had pushed a button, and it definitely showed. Margot leaned forward, turning the radio on and blasting it so that the car filled with heavy music. She sat back in her seat, and no more was said for quite a while.
Angsty. Sorry for not updating for so long. I've been swamped with schoolwork, drama stuff, the musical, stuff like that. School's a major bummer. I'm dead-tired. Fuck it. On a happier note, I'll have another load added on to my workload soon, because I managed to land the role of Bebe in A Chorus Line. Awesome fucking possum. So, yeah. Go review/rate/subscribe if you haven't, and make me happy. M'kay? M'kay. OverAndOutxx
“Brendon,” Margot began, taking a deep breath. “I just want to say--”
“That you’re sorry for breaking my heart? That you regret staying with Spencer, who’s obviously turned into a bigger prick than ever? Or do you wanna fuck again, just for old times’ sake?” Brendon stared ahead of him, gripping the wheel so tightly that the skin on his knuckles turned white.
“No. In fact, I wasn’t even going to bring that up. I was going to tell you that I’m sorry about your father. I loved him like he was family, and--”
“Save it,” he spat.
“Excuse me?”
“I said save it, Margot. I don’t need your sympathy. You’re trying to understand what I’m going through, right? You want to comfort me? Make me feel like there’s someone who gets me?”
Margot chose to overlook his rudeness, chalking it up to grief. “How are you doing?”
“Just fucking dandy.”
“You don’t seem to be coping well, Brendon.”
“At least I don’t eat my problems away, fatty.”
Margot took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to keep her temper. Fail. “You know, Brendon, I’m just trying to create a nice, tension-free conversation, here, and you’re acting like we’re still teenagers, arguing about stupid stuff from high school.”
“Maybe because that stupid stuff from high school changed the person I turned out to be, and you ended up just throwing it all back in my face!” Brendon glared at her before returning his attention to the road. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were narrow slits.
“Oh, please. That’s bullshit, Brendon. The day after you kissed me in my bedroom, I saw you strutting around the school with Victoria in your arms, and I knew that Spencer was right, and you hadn’t changed a bit.” She could have slapped him. That was Brendon; always playing the victim, even now.
“Because you rejected me, Margot! I was eighteen, what was I supposed to do? You rejected me, and I had Victoria at my fingertips, so of course I was going to try to make you jealous. And that lasted for about a week, by the way, because I couldn’t stand being with Victoria while knowing I could have had you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, Brendon, but get over it. It was high school, and flings don’t last, anyway. That’s life.” Margot threw up her arms and sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. The car was silent for a moment, save for the hum of tires on the road outside.
“By the way, I want you to know that I did not offer to pick you up. My mother asked, and I told her I would, for her sake. In no way did I want to take this trip with you,” Brendon informed her, staring at a spot above the steering wheel.
“Well, I’m so sorry that I’m inconveniencing you. I do owe you a lot for making my entire life a complete inconvenience. How I got out of adolescence without killing myself is a yet-unsolved mystery.”
“Don’t we all wish we had the answer to that one,” Brendon murmured.
“Fuck you. You’re how old? Twenty-five, or fifteen? It’s difficult to tell right now.”
“Oh, I see you’re still not funny at all. What’s the matter, Spenny not crack enough jokes to expose you to some humor? Oh no, that’s right, he just beats the shit out of you until you obey.”
Margot froze. She glanced quickly down at her arm, where his finger-marks were, indeed, beginning to turn purple. She gently touched her collar-bone, which was a bit tender from being tripped by Spencer and sent flying into the piano.
“The bruises don’t have to be visible to know that your relationship isn’t a healthy one, Margot,” Brendon said, his voice softening a bit. Despite the anger he’d been harboring toward her for all these years, Brendon’s heart ached, his fears of what was going on between Spencer and Margot being confirmed. Even in high school, Brendon had picked Spencer out as one to be abusive. Emotionally or physically didn’t really matter, if one could even really be considered “better” than the other.
“He loves me,” Margot said quietly. “He really does. He’s the only one. He just…loses his temper, sometimes…like we all do. Nobody’s perfect, but we love each other, and that’s enough to get us through the…less-glamorous parts.”
“If you were my girlfriend, Margot, I would never lose my temper to that point.”
“If I were your girlfriend, you’d have dumped me already. We wouldn’t have lasted out of high school, Brendon, even if we had ended up together.”
“The only reason you stayed with Spencer when he went off to college is because he had you wrapped so tightly around his finger that you didn’t know which way was up. He made himself your entire life, Margot, and the only way you could deal with it was to occupy all your time with him and not worry about anything or anyone else.”
“That is not true!” Margot said, turning a bit crimson.
“Oh, it’s perfectly true, and you’re just in denial, Margot. I wish you would have been able to see how a functional relationship worked before you threw yourself blindly into one with that asshole.” Brendon shook his head disbelievingly. How could Margot just make excuse upon excuse for that jackass?
“Spencer--” Margot began, but was interrupted by her phone. She sighed and checked the caller ID. Who else? “Hello, Spencer.”
“Speak of the devil!” called Brendon from the driver’s seat. Margot swatted him on the arm.
“Hey, babe,” Spencer said, either having not heard Brendon, or ignoring him. “I was just calling to make sure you were being a good girl.”
“I’m not five years old, Spencer,” Margot sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, whatever. Let me talk to Brendon.”
“Spencer, I don’t think that’s a good--”
“Hey, when I want your opinion, I’ll tell you what it is, okay? Now.”
Margot sighed again. “Here,” she said, handing the phone to a bewildered Brendon.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Brendon, it’s Spencer. Just wondering: were you thinking of putting some more moves on my girlfriend?”
“I wouldn’t touch your girlfriend with a ten-foot pole, Spencer. Don’t flatter yourself. She’s not desirable to anyone but you.”
“Oh, really? Because my busted lip and bruised eye from senior year say different.”
“Believe me, Spencer: if I wanted her, we’d be fucking already.”
“Right. When that happens, just be sure to call me and let me know how my dick tastes.”
Brendon made a thick noise of disgust in his throat, closing the phone and tossing it into Margot’s lap. “Fucking prick,” he muttered.
“What did he say?” Margot frowned at her phone, knowing that no good had come out of it.
“He told me to be sure and call him if we started fooling around, let him know how his dick tastes.”
“Oh, he did not say that,” Margot said, wrinkling her nose.
“I shit you not. That’s the man you’re in love with. I bet you’re so proud. Your mother must be charmed off her lollipops with lines like that.” Brendon gave a sharp bark of humorless laughter.
“Sure, he can be crude sometimes, but that’s nothing compared to how you act. Twenty-five years old, and you still act like this is a competition between the two of you. It’s not even really about me at all, is it?”
“Nope,” Brendon lied. “Not at all.” To him, at least, it was all about Margot. He’d wanted her so badly, wanted to be with her, wanted to be the one she called her boyfriend, best friend, and lover. He shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of these thoughts. Despite Spencer’s abusive nature, Margot was obviously still enamored with him, and wouldn’t be leaving him for anyone anytime soon.
“Well, congratulations on losing, then.” Margot confirmed the man’s hypothesis.
“Please. What kind of contest in Hell would award you as a prize?” From so many years of taunting, teasing, and misery-making, Brendon was completely unable to stem his flow of insults and put-downs towards Margot. It even stung him a bit every time something left his mouth, but he couldn’t stop it.
“Obviously, the one that you were competing in seven years ago.”
“Yeah, well, kids do stupid things. Your parents were how old when they had you?” Brendon had pushed a button, and it definitely showed. Margot leaned forward, turning the radio on and blasting it so that the car filled with heavy music. She sat back in her seat, and no more was said for quite a while.
Angsty. Sorry for not updating for so long. I've been swamped with schoolwork, drama stuff, the musical, stuff like that. School's a major bummer. I'm dead-tired. Fuck it. On a happier note, I'll have another load added on to my workload soon, because I managed to land the role of Bebe in A Chorus Line. Awesome fucking possum. So, yeah. Go review/rate/subscribe if you haven't, and make me happy. M'kay? M'kay. OverAndOutxx
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