Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > A Road Called Loathing
The day of Boyd Urie’s funeral dawned gray and damp, just like the mood. It was a glum affair, saturated with sorrow and tears. The car ride home and, in fact, the rest of the day, had been almost completely silent. Nobody had any inclination to speak, too occupied with thoughts of death. Margot, for one, hadn’t been able to fall asleep that night, finally drifting off into a fitful slumber once the sun was peaking out from behind the horizon.
By the time Margot woke up that next morning, it wasn’t morning. When she checked the clock on her old bedside table, it told her that it was, in fact, four-thirty in the afternoon. Margot groaned and rolled over, still feeling too tired to get out of bed yet. She cracked one eye open and glanced around the room that she hadn’t lived in for five years.
It was exactly the same as she’d left it, of course. The walls were green, the carpet was brown, and there were still posters on the walls of some of her favorite bands. Anberlin, The Get Up Kids, Linkin Park; Margot smiled at how infatuated she’d been with Chester Bennington at one point in her life. Those had certainly been the days, Margot thought to herself. Sighing, she sat up and got out of bed, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers and padding out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.
“”Well, well, well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Mr. Miner greeted his daughter, seated at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper. Mrs. Miner and Mrs. Urie were also sitting down at the table, Mrs. Minder’s hand on Grace’s, whispering quietly. The father smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and Margot didn’t have to think very hard to know why. Margot mumbled an inaudible greeting in response, sadness immediately settling in when she remembered why she was there.
“I’m gonna go take a walk,” she said after a few minutes of just standing in the kitchen, staring around the room.
“In your pajamas?” her father asked, smirking. Margot shrugged.
“Sure.” She walked out of the kitchen, making her way to the front door and stepping out into the mild evening air. Margot stood on the porch step for a few moments, staring at the house that sat next to hers, just a few yards away. It was almost identical, really, just like all the other cookie-cutter homes on the block. Identical, save for the inside. And wasn’t that what really mattered? Margot crossed the lawn, coming to a stop outside Brendon’s old bedroom window. She knew he had to be staying there.
Margot had scoped out the lowest branch on the tree just outside before she had even made the conscious decision to do so. In a few moments, she had managed to scramble up the trunk and climb out on one long branch to Brendon’s window. She tapped on the glass, before trying the lock and seeing that it was unlatched. With a little effort, and a near-fall, Margot managed to push open the window and tumble into the boy’s room.
Brendon had always been a heavy sleeper, and today was no exception. Despite her less-than-graceful-fall, Margot’s entrance had gone completely unnoticed by the snoozing man. He continued to snore lightly, and Margot took this peaceful opportunity to examine him closely, something she’d never done before.
Looking at him, Margot was forced to admit, albeit reluctantly, that Brendon was really quite attractive. Strong features, large, brown eyes, a curved mouth; he had the classic good looks. Lightly, for fear of waking him up to an awkward situation, Margot dragged her finger down the bridge of the man’s nose, following to his chin, going along his jawbone. Margot smiled slightly as the corner of Brendon’s mouth twitched upwards, still sleeping.
“What happened,” she murmured, staring down at him, her composure now melancholy. Now that she really looked, he didn’t seem so peaceful. His brows were knit together, as though in frustration, and a muscle in his jaw was twitching occasionally, adding to the illusion of discontentedness. Margot took a deep breath, deciding to wake him, to pull him from whatever unhappiness seemed to be haunting Brendon in his dreams. She covered his mouth and nose with one hand, using the other to slap his chest and shake his shoulder. “Brendon,” she said, quietly. “Wake up.”
Brendon’s eyes shot open, and he yelled in surprise, which was muffled by the girl’s hand. He sat up in his bed, obviously still in his stupor from sleep. Apparently, Margot had been correct in assuming that Brendon’s dreams were not being kind to him, and, perhaps, the farthest thing from peaceful.
“Shh, it’s me!” Margot whispered, trying to calm him down. She used her free hand to brush a few stray locks of hair out of Brendon’s frantic eyes. When he saw that it was Margot, and he was, in fact, in no immediate danger, he calmed down and slumped back on the pillows. Margot slid her hand off his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Margot shrugged. “I just woke up. I was going to take a walk, and then I kind of…just figured I’d come over here.”
“Did my mom let you in?”
“…Not exactly,” Margot said evasively.
“What?”
“Well…” Margot nodded her head in the direction of Brendon’s open window.
“Oh,” he said, nodding, and not looking too surprised. “What time is it?” he asked, stifling a yawn that broke through, anyway.
“A little before five.”
“In the evening?”
“Mhmm…” Margot was perched on the end of Brendon’s bed, fiddling with the tangled sheets that had been tossed during the night. “What time did you get to bed?”
“About midnight,” he answered, staring at Margot’s fingers as they toyed with his bedding.
“What time did you actually get to sleep?”
“…Not before nine, I don’t think,” Brendon admitted.
“I figured. How you feeling?” Margot removed her hands from the comforter and instead placed them on Brendon’s knee.
“Alright, I guess. A bit better, after yesterday.” Margot nodded, understanding the closure he had gotten from going to the funeral.
“I’m glad…What were you dreaming about?” Margot bit her lip, waiting to see if this would put Brendon in a bad mood.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his brows knitting together as they had done in his sleep.
“Well…I just…you seemed upset…You were frowning in your sleep.” Brendon had shrugged his knee out of her hands, causing the girl to fold them on her lap, instead.
“Nothing,” he grunted, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.
“Well, it was obviously something, Brendon. Why won’t you talk about it?”
“Why won’t you talk about your abusive boyfriend?” Brendon shot back, challenging.
Margot set her jaw, narrowing her eyes angrily. “That’s my business!”
“Exactly!” Brendon said, standing up. He crossed to the other side of the room.
“I’m not prying into your business to tell you you’re wrong, or to be nosy, Brendon,” Margot said, following suit to stand behind the man. “I’m trying to help you. You’ve never been good with dealing with your emotions, and if you keep it all bottled up--”
“Don’t use any of your two-course psychology on me, Margot!” Brendon yelled, walking away without facing her. “I don’t want to hear it, okay? I deal with things the way I do because it works for me!”
“It doesn’t work for you!” Margot was beginning to raise her voice in reply to Brendon’s towering volumes. “You’re keeping all this stress that’s been building up for God-knows how long knotted up inside you, and now you’re going off on me over something as stupid as a dream!”
“It’s not about that, it’s about you just waltzing right back into my life and thinking that I’m just supposed to be alright with seeing you with Spencer, when he’s abusive, and I know that I could be treating you so much better!”
“Oh, really?” Margot barked out a humorless laugh. “Because this entire trip, you’ve been nothing but ups and downs, mostly downs. Do you realize that you have been nastier to me in these few days than Spencer has been in years?” Not exactly the truth, but Margot was angry to the point where all she wanted to do was prove Brendon wrong, truth or no truth.
“I highly fucking doubt that, Margot! And I’m not nasty to you out of malice, or contempt for you, it’s tension! There’s tension, and my reaction to stressful situations is defensiveness! Don’t tell me you can’t understand that!” Brendon spun around to face Margot, stalking right up to her so that they were face-to-face.
“Shut up! I’m fucking tired of you doing this! I try to be nice, I make a real fucking effort, and you throw it right back in my face. You are the biggest asshole I’ve ever known, Brendon Urie! You know what? I don’t care what you do. I fucking hate you! I hate you!” Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and she had drawn herself up to full height, as had Brendon.
“Well, I fucking hate you, too, Margot!”
“Good!” Margot screamed, her voice cracking from the strain. “Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
In that instant, Brendon grabbed Margot’s face with his hands, pulling her head towards his into a passionate kiss, which she readily returned, burying her fingers into the back of his dark hair. Their bodies were pressed as tightly together as possible, mouths clashing into one.
Yes! YES! I FINALLY updated. Ugh, it feels so good to have this chapter done, because now I know that my block is over. I'm where I want to be, and I know where I'm going from here. Quite a shocker, eh? Did you see that coming? Yeah, you probably did, actually...Oh well! It's certainly not a filler, right! Yes! I'm so excited about having this done, you guys. This story is that much closer to being over.
OH, and, be warned, the next chapter may or may not be sexually graphic...Not TOO graphic, mind you, as I am almost as horrible a smut writer as I am a sequel-writer. So...yeah. If that offends you, just skip past the first part of it. No, actually, you'll want to at least skim it, because important schtuffs will be happening during their...coital relations.
Now, on a different note, I started a new story! I know, I know, I have two stories up right now that need finishing, but...I couldn't resist! I really liked the idea for this one, and I couldn't let myself forget it. It's a My Chem fic, but even if you don't like them much, you might like the story. It has nothing to do with them being a band and is alternate universe. So go check it out: http://ficwad.com/story/144064
So go do all that stuff for me, pretty plz, in addition to subbing and commenting on this chapter, because I know you've got something to say. See you on the flip side, home skilletz. OverAndOutxx
By the time Margot woke up that next morning, it wasn’t morning. When she checked the clock on her old bedside table, it told her that it was, in fact, four-thirty in the afternoon. Margot groaned and rolled over, still feeling too tired to get out of bed yet. She cracked one eye open and glanced around the room that she hadn’t lived in for five years.
It was exactly the same as she’d left it, of course. The walls were green, the carpet was brown, and there were still posters on the walls of some of her favorite bands. Anberlin, The Get Up Kids, Linkin Park; Margot smiled at how infatuated she’d been with Chester Bennington at one point in her life. Those had certainly been the days, Margot thought to herself. Sighing, she sat up and got out of bed, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers and padding out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.
“”Well, well, well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Mr. Miner greeted his daughter, seated at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper. Mrs. Miner and Mrs. Urie were also sitting down at the table, Mrs. Minder’s hand on Grace’s, whispering quietly. The father smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and Margot didn’t have to think very hard to know why. Margot mumbled an inaudible greeting in response, sadness immediately settling in when she remembered why she was there.
“I’m gonna go take a walk,” she said after a few minutes of just standing in the kitchen, staring around the room.
“In your pajamas?” her father asked, smirking. Margot shrugged.
“Sure.” She walked out of the kitchen, making her way to the front door and stepping out into the mild evening air. Margot stood on the porch step for a few moments, staring at the house that sat next to hers, just a few yards away. It was almost identical, really, just like all the other cookie-cutter homes on the block. Identical, save for the inside. And wasn’t that what really mattered? Margot crossed the lawn, coming to a stop outside Brendon’s old bedroom window. She knew he had to be staying there.
Margot had scoped out the lowest branch on the tree just outside before she had even made the conscious decision to do so. In a few moments, she had managed to scramble up the trunk and climb out on one long branch to Brendon’s window. She tapped on the glass, before trying the lock and seeing that it was unlatched. With a little effort, and a near-fall, Margot managed to push open the window and tumble into the boy’s room.
Brendon had always been a heavy sleeper, and today was no exception. Despite her less-than-graceful-fall, Margot’s entrance had gone completely unnoticed by the snoozing man. He continued to snore lightly, and Margot took this peaceful opportunity to examine him closely, something she’d never done before.
Looking at him, Margot was forced to admit, albeit reluctantly, that Brendon was really quite attractive. Strong features, large, brown eyes, a curved mouth; he had the classic good looks. Lightly, for fear of waking him up to an awkward situation, Margot dragged her finger down the bridge of the man’s nose, following to his chin, going along his jawbone. Margot smiled slightly as the corner of Brendon’s mouth twitched upwards, still sleeping.
“What happened,” she murmured, staring down at him, her composure now melancholy. Now that she really looked, he didn’t seem so peaceful. His brows were knit together, as though in frustration, and a muscle in his jaw was twitching occasionally, adding to the illusion of discontentedness. Margot took a deep breath, deciding to wake him, to pull him from whatever unhappiness seemed to be haunting Brendon in his dreams. She covered his mouth and nose with one hand, using the other to slap his chest and shake his shoulder. “Brendon,” she said, quietly. “Wake up.”
Brendon’s eyes shot open, and he yelled in surprise, which was muffled by the girl’s hand. He sat up in his bed, obviously still in his stupor from sleep. Apparently, Margot had been correct in assuming that Brendon’s dreams were not being kind to him, and, perhaps, the farthest thing from peaceful.
“Shh, it’s me!” Margot whispered, trying to calm him down. She used her free hand to brush a few stray locks of hair out of Brendon’s frantic eyes. When he saw that it was Margot, and he was, in fact, in no immediate danger, he calmed down and slumped back on the pillows. Margot slid her hand off his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Margot shrugged. “I just woke up. I was going to take a walk, and then I kind of…just figured I’d come over here.”
“Did my mom let you in?”
“…Not exactly,” Margot said evasively.
“What?”
“Well…” Margot nodded her head in the direction of Brendon’s open window.
“Oh,” he said, nodding, and not looking too surprised. “What time is it?” he asked, stifling a yawn that broke through, anyway.
“A little before five.”
“In the evening?”
“Mhmm…” Margot was perched on the end of Brendon’s bed, fiddling with the tangled sheets that had been tossed during the night. “What time did you get to bed?”
“About midnight,” he answered, staring at Margot’s fingers as they toyed with his bedding.
“What time did you actually get to sleep?”
“…Not before nine, I don’t think,” Brendon admitted.
“I figured. How you feeling?” Margot removed her hands from the comforter and instead placed them on Brendon’s knee.
“Alright, I guess. A bit better, after yesterday.” Margot nodded, understanding the closure he had gotten from going to the funeral.
“I’m glad…What were you dreaming about?” Margot bit her lip, waiting to see if this would put Brendon in a bad mood.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his brows knitting together as they had done in his sleep.
“Well…I just…you seemed upset…You were frowning in your sleep.” Brendon had shrugged his knee out of her hands, causing the girl to fold them on her lap, instead.
“Nothing,” he grunted, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.
“Well, it was obviously something, Brendon. Why won’t you talk about it?”
“Why won’t you talk about your abusive boyfriend?” Brendon shot back, challenging.
Margot set her jaw, narrowing her eyes angrily. “That’s my business!”
“Exactly!” Brendon said, standing up. He crossed to the other side of the room.
“I’m not prying into your business to tell you you’re wrong, or to be nosy, Brendon,” Margot said, following suit to stand behind the man. “I’m trying to help you. You’ve never been good with dealing with your emotions, and if you keep it all bottled up--”
“Don’t use any of your two-course psychology on me, Margot!” Brendon yelled, walking away without facing her. “I don’t want to hear it, okay? I deal with things the way I do because it works for me!”
“It doesn’t work for you!” Margot was beginning to raise her voice in reply to Brendon’s towering volumes. “You’re keeping all this stress that’s been building up for God-knows how long knotted up inside you, and now you’re going off on me over something as stupid as a dream!”
“It’s not about that, it’s about you just waltzing right back into my life and thinking that I’m just supposed to be alright with seeing you with Spencer, when he’s abusive, and I know that I could be treating you so much better!”
“Oh, really?” Margot barked out a humorless laugh. “Because this entire trip, you’ve been nothing but ups and downs, mostly downs. Do you realize that you have been nastier to me in these few days than Spencer has been in years?” Not exactly the truth, but Margot was angry to the point where all she wanted to do was prove Brendon wrong, truth or no truth.
“I highly fucking doubt that, Margot! And I’m not nasty to you out of malice, or contempt for you, it’s tension! There’s tension, and my reaction to stressful situations is defensiveness! Don’t tell me you can’t understand that!” Brendon spun around to face Margot, stalking right up to her so that they were face-to-face.
“Shut up! I’m fucking tired of you doing this! I try to be nice, I make a real fucking effort, and you throw it right back in my face. You are the biggest asshole I’ve ever known, Brendon Urie! You know what? I don’t care what you do. I fucking hate you! I hate you!” Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and she had drawn herself up to full height, as had Brendon.
“Well, I fucking hate you, too, Margot!”
“Good!” Margot screamed, her voice cracking from the strain. “Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
In that instant, Brendon grabbed Margot’s face with his hands, pulling her head towards his into a passionate kiss, which she readily returned, burying her fingers into the back of his dark hair. Their bodies were pressed as tightly together as possible, mouths clashing into one.
Yes! YES! I FINALLY updated. Ugh, it feels so good to have this chapter done, because now I know that my block is over. I'm where I want to be, and I know where I'm going from here. Quite a shocker, eh? Did you see that coming? Yeah, you probably did, actually...Oh well! It's certainly not a filler, right! Yes! I'm so excited about having this done, you guys. This story is that much closer to being over.
OH, and, be warned, the next chapter may or may not be sexually graphic...Not TOO graphic, mind you, as I am almost as horrible a smut writer as I am a sequel-writer. So...yeah. If that offends you, just skip past the first part of it. No, actually, you'll want to at least skim it, because important schtuffs will be happening during their...coital relations.
Now, on a different note, I started a new story! I know, I know, I have two stories up right now that need finishing, but...I couldn't resist! I really liked the idea for this one, and I couldn't let myself forget it. It's a My Chem fic, but even if you don't like them much, you might like the story. It has nothing to do with them being a band and is alternate universe. So go check it out: http://ficwad.com/story/144064
So go do all that stuff for me, pretty plz, in addition to subbing and commenting on this chapter, because I know you've got something to say. See you on the flip side, home skilletz. OverAndOutxx
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