FicWad

Brendon took one last swing of his drink, watching the stage while he waited. It was one of his favorite things to do. To sit in the clubs and watch the preforms do their odd forms of art. But this club was different, there was always one show that he would never miss. It was a boy who always did the best dances Brendon had ever seen. He was petite and feminine, honey eyes that were always covered by a black mask with silver embroidery. He had light brown hair that was always styled in a fashion that Brendon couldn't quite place. A fair complexion that was always a nice shade of pale. And pink plump lips that Brendon always wished that he could touch with his own.
But he didn't even know his name.
A waitress that went by the name Sara came over and gave Brendon a refill of his drink. Everyone in this club knew him, were friends with him really. He was always there, watching. Waiting for the day where he could exchange names with the boy who always wore peacock feathers in his light brown hair. The boy who could dance better than most girls. The boy whose honey eyes had captivated Brendon for entire shows, to the point when he realizes that he had been staring into them for the whole show. The boy who had captured his heart.
"Waiting for that boy of yours?" Sara asked as she sat next to Brendon, who lifted the bottle up to his mouth to take a small sip. He knew that she knew the answer. How could she not? I kept his eyes to the stage as he watched a feather dancer with short black hair strut her stuff and capture the eyes of every male in the house.
"Yeah. What's his name?" Brendon asked still staring at the stage.
"He still won't tell us. I don't know what's up with that kid. God knows he's not 18, and he still dances like he's in his early twenties. It's like his whole life is a secret. The only thing I know about him is that he's always covering up bruises and cuts with makeup." She said slowly, taking a sip from her own drink. Brendon looked over at Sara. She was a blond with deep brown eyes that looked like sunflowers, and thin red lips that were always curled into a smile. She was medium height, with fair sized chest, and a thin waist, giving her the perfect hourglass figure. She was almost always caught in a tight fitting corsets that cut off around her waist, showing off her hip bones, in whatever color she felt like wearing that day. With black fitting shorts, fishnet leggings, and high heels that matched the color of her corset. Brendon wouldn't lie and say that she wasn't a pretty girl, he knew that she was, she just wasn't his type. Still, she was one of Brendon's friends in the club.
"Jessie told me the same thing when I was in here Wednesday." Brendon said before staring back up at the feather dancer, who was now with a fire breather, both of them putting to the task of stripping each other while keeping up with the dance.
"You've got your fake ID on you, right?" Sara asked and Brendon nodded. Friday was always the day that the cops were undercover in the club, going in and out like no one knew who they were, searching for under aged kids. Brendon happened to be apart of that group, getting a fake ID as soon as he could so he could to avoid staying at home with his disapproving parents muttering how worthless he was. He had been hitting the clubs of Vegas ever since, watching the theatrical performances with awe.
"Don't I always?" Brendon smirked as the lights dimmed and the feather dancer and fire breather walked off the stage, the room clapping and cheering. Brendon tilted his head, sitting up in his chair as he put his elbows on the table, leaning on them to watch the stage intensely. He could tell that Sara was smirking at him as she finished off her drink and went back to serving, finishing her break. But Brendon didn't care. It was his turn to preform, and he had been waiting to see him once again. The lights on the stage brightened and Brendon couldn't help the smile spread on his face as he saw him.
He wore a black vest that matched his mask, intricate designs embroidered in silver making a brilliant contrast. His hair had the usual peacock feathers tied in the sides, making his face even more gorgeous than it already was. He wore tight fitting black pants with no shoes, something that he always did. His makeup was in the shape of a red rose that surrounded one of his eyes, though most of it was covered by his mask, a vine coming out of it went all the way down his neck and down one of his arms. Brendon could see most of his back with the vest he was wearing, making it impossible to resist the smile that continued to grow.
He wished that he had a reason to talk to him, but he knew he didn't. They were two completely different people from two different worlds.
Brendon frowned as the boys dance partner walked onto the stage, using a whip on him. He didn't want to stay here and watch the show. Mainly because he wanted to be the other male on the stage with him. With a small sigh he downed the rest of his drink, putting money on the table for Sara before he walked out. It was still early, and there was no way he wanted to go home, so he decided to go to the normal bar he went to when he didn't want to go home. He sat down at the practically empty bar and Spencer smiled at him.
"Rough night?" Spencer asked as he got Brendon his usual drink. Brendon and Spencer grew up together, Spencer was a year older than him, but they still went to the same school. That was, until Spencer dropped out to become a bartender. He was the best in Vegas, so no one bothered to ask his age, they all just wanted him to serve them. Not only could he keep track of twenty people's drinks, tabs, and stories, but he could do it all while cleaning different dishes. He also knew just about every type of drink ever, and could always guess what kind of drink a person would like after two minutes of talking to them. It was just who Spencer was, an amazingly nice kid who was the best bartender Brendon knew. And he went to just about every bar in both Vegas, and neighboring cities.
"Rough week." Brendon said with a laugh as he downed half his drink.
"So did you learn that boy's name?" Spencer asked as he started making a drink for another person. Brendon gave a light sigh, frustrated at himself. Spencer knew just about everything about Brendon's life, he even knew the days that the boy danced, and that Brendon went to see him every night he could.
"Have I ever?" Brendon asked. Spencer walked away for a moment to serve a few drinks to some other people that were sitting at the bar before walking back over to Brendon.
"Good point." Spencer said with a smile. Brendon ran his finger over the rim of the glass, circling it as he spoke.
"I just don't know how to talk to him." Brendon said as he watched his finger continue to circle the glass. Spencer looked at the officer behind Brendon as he tapped lightly on his shoulder. Brendon turned and smiled at the officer.
"How old are you kid?" He asked as he looked at Brendon's obviously young face.
"22, why?" Brendon asked as he gave the officer a serious look to try and make him believe that he was telling the truth.
"ID." The officer said holding out his hand.
"That's not necessary, I went to school with him. He's old enough." Spencer said as he tried to get the officer to stop messing with Brendon.
"No, no, it's fine Spencer." Brendon said as he started to dig through his pockets for his ID.
"Don't bother, I trust Spencer. Which means I trust you." The officer said. He still didn't look like he fully believed that Brendon or Spencer were of legal age, but he seemed to try to brush it off and walk away. Spencer gave a sigh of relief.
"Fuck that was close. You know, next time they'll be able to tell that you're too young to be here." Spencer said.
"So are you." Brendon said as he went back to looking down at his drink, to absorbed in his thoughts to notice what was going on around him. It took him by surprise when Jon started talking next to him.
"You look rough." Jon said as he pushed Brendon's hair out of his face. Brendon gave a small sigh. Jon was one of the other regulars at the bar, and even though Brendon hadn't had all that much conversation with him, or had any real reason to be a close friend, Spencer loved him. They were both best friends, in fact Brendon was sure that when his back was turned that they were more than just friends.
"I know." He said attempting to fix his messed up hair.
"Maybe it's time for you to go home and try to get some sleep. The bar will be closing in an hour anyway." Spencer said as he set about making Jon his usual drink. Brendon nodded. No matter how much he didn't want to go home, he knew he would have to eventually. That's always how it was. He would stay out all night and all day, wishing he didn't have to go back. But the day would always end with him stumbling through his front door.
"You're right, as always." Brendon said with a little laugh. Jon and Spencer smiled at him as Brendon dug around in his pockets for money to pay for his drink.
"You best believe I'm always right!" Spencer said with a laugh. Jon seemed to pull him down by his collar to whisper something in his ear, and Brendon knew that he didn't really want to stay around to watch their happy relationship. He put the money on the counter before standing up and walking out the door, dreading having to go home and face his parents for another scolding about everything that Brendon was and did.
Much to his surprise, when he walked into his house, it was empty. A small note was set on the table by the door, and he picked it up, quickly reading it over. A small smile graced his lips as he realized that his parents were gone for the month. Out on business was their excuse, but he was sure they were just tired of him. He walked up to his room, flopping down on his bed with a smile. Tomorrow he would skip school and enjoy being home alone.