Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Reality Blows
The Drink Is On Me
2 reviewsBrendon doesn't know how to react. Had the intruder been a nasty dream? Everything goes well until the singer decides to have a drink to choke his anxiety.
2Original
A/N: I know I said it was a one-shot.. But here is chapter number two! Should I continue this?
As I just finished my Darkness Of Flashbacks story that I've been working on for almost a year I feel like I need a new project.
When Brendon woke up the following morning he felt battered. Had last night been a dream? Of course it was, he thought and smiled. Nothing that crazy could happen in reality.
He sighed and groaned as the headache came in waves. "Fucking hangovers!" he growled and slammed his hand onto the bedside table. He searched for the package of aspirin only to find out that he had used them all already.
"Shit." he cursed and slowly got out of the bed. The room was still dark and pleasant for his eyes. Brendon walked towards the window and inhaled sharply before removing the blinds. He screeched with pain as the light almost made his head explode.
The bright light of the sun made him feel sick. Brendon was so mad since the morning had been a failure for him. It wasn't a promising sign of a good day at all.
The singer moved towards the bathroom to take a shower, which hopefully would be a thing to completely wake him up. As he stood in front of the sink and looked into the mirror he was surprised.
His face looked a mess. Dried blood coming from his split eyebrow was smudged around all over his face. "What the..." Brendon started. Then he remembered why his face was like that. Brendon remembered how he had hit himself in the face when he tried to punch the mysterious doppelganger. So it wasn't a dream after all, Brendon thought. His jaw dropped and he gasped.
He was now scared. Maybe the unfresh lookalike would return? Brendon turned cold water on in the shower and took his black boxers off. He now noticed how they had a big hole on the side.
The singer grimaced and threw them into a corner of the bathroom. He didn't want to see them anymore.
Brendon reached with his fingers for the cascade of water which poured from the shower nozzle. He could feel how cold it was even if he wasn't touching it. The fingers vibrated an inch from the flooding water.
The brunette man breathed slowly and broke the beam with his hand. The water was extremely cold and his hand soon went numb. The feeling was quite interesting for the singer. How it all just stopped hurting after a while. "I can do this. Come on now, Brendon." he murmured for himself before he stepped into the shower.
A small shriek escaped his lips as the first drops of water collided with his warm skin. His wet hair got glued all over his face.
The dried blood trickled down his body and colored the floor of the shower pink before it went down the drain. It felt like a rebirth. Being completely clean and empty of feelings.
Every single one of Brendon's senses felt sharper. Every thought became clearer. Like the stream of oxygen to his brain had increased.
When Brendon stepped out of the shower he was all red. His member had also decided that it was way too cold for him and had disappeared for a while. As Brendon cuddled into a soft towel it started to find its way out again though.
The singer decided that what he needed the most was clothes. He walked into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. When he opened the door a creepy smell seeped out of it. It smelled like sour sweat.
Brendon grimaced and shook his head. He threw every single piece of clothing out on the floor and succeeded to, after a couple of minutes, find something clean to wear.
He put on a pair of old white boxers, a pair of loose black pants and a white t-shirt with blue stains of paint sprinkled over the chest.
After that, Brendon walked into the kitchen and found his cell phone lying on a kitchen worktop. He looked at it and saw that he had ten missed calls. All of them were from Ryan.
The singer groaned. He knew that he had to call him back.
His fingers dialed the number to Ryan quickly and pressed the green button. The signal blasted into Brendon's ear for a long time before it clicked. "Brendon?" a familiar voice said.
"Yeah. It's me." Brendon answered and scratched his head. I might need to fix my eyebrow, he thought before Ryan had said anything else.
The singer could hear a loud sigh from the guitarist.
"I've been so fucking worried! Why haven't you picked up your phone? Where are you?" the older man rambled. Brendon could almost hear how Ryan's eyes got bigger and bigger. The questions and Ryan's loud voice didn't do anything good for Brendon's headache.
"Ehm..." Brendon started slowly. "I'm at home and I lost my phone, sorry."
He had lied to Ryan and didn't even feel ashamed of it. "Alright... We're all at Spencer's place and trying out new songs. You should come!" Ryan continued.
"I don't feel so well. I think I'll pass." Brendon said. That was at least not a lie.
"Okay. But I miss you. Just so you know." Ryan mumbled with a sad tone. Brendon closed his eyes. "I miss you too." he said and hung up on the guitarist.
Brendon put the cell phone back on the kitchen worktop and noticed the shards of glass in the kitchen sink. He groaned and remembered the bottle which he had smashed yesterday night.
The singer picked the shards up and cleaned the sink. He was amazed by the fact that he didn't cut himself. That would have been the icing on the cake that awful morning.
Brendon spent the day watching stupid shows on the TV. When it started to get dark outside he felt worry bubbling up from his stomach. He was afraid that the doppelganger would show up again soon.
The worry grew with the minutes ad Brendon started shaking. "Fuck this." he whispered after a while and got up from his comfortable couch. He headed towards the kitchen and started searching the shelves of booze which would cure his anxiety.
He soon found a bottle of liquor which he opened with a smile. Brendon didn't bother to find a glass to pour the clear liquid into. He simply put his lips to the opening and drank from the bottle.
The liquid wandered down the throat with a following warmth. Brendon soon felt safe and fuzzy.
He put the bottle down on a table. Some drops of the liquor had dripped down and stained the t-shirt even more.
When Brendon walked into the bedroom to sleep he was greeted by the doppelganger who was sitting on his bed with an old magazine in his hand. "Oh, there you are! I've been waiting for you." the disgusting copy of Brendon said and grinned. His yellow teeth shone.
Brendon backed towards the door again and swallowed hard. "Who are you?" the singer hissed.
The doppelganger shook his head and smiled. He was wearing the same clothes as Brendon. "I'm you. I'm what you now are." he answered politely. Brendon already knew that. What he needed was more information.
"What's that? What am I?" he asked curiously. The copy of himself grinned. "A mess."
"Why are you here?" Brendon breathed. The copy on the bed cocked his head to the side. "To remind you that you need to fight me to be the man you want to be." he said. It all confused Brendon.
"I tried. Don't you remember? But I was the one who got hurt by the punch." the very confused drunk man said. His copy smiled and nodded. "I do remember that funny little incident. You aren't going to win this with your fists." he said with a big grin across his face.
Brendon walked closer to the man on the bed. He reached out to touch him. When Brendon's finger touched the lookalike's forehead he felt a slight pressure on his own face. He gasped.
"How am I supposed to do it then?" Brendon asked while pressing his fingers harder on the pale copy's face.
The other man couldn't seem to stop smiling. "You have to figure that out all by yourself."
Brendon's brain couldn't understand what the man in front of him was trying to tell him. "I have no clue. Can't you just tell me?" the singer pleaded.
"No. I guess you're not ready yet." the sitting man answered. Brendon wrinkled his forehead and grabbed the magazine in the copy's hand and yanked it out of his dry hand.
"Shut up! I'm ready! You know nothing about me!" he snarled.
The doppelganger laughed merrily at Brendon's outburst. "I know everything about you. If you were ready you wouldn't reek of alcohol now." he said and shook his head.
Brendon's mouth hung open.
"Look! There's batman!" the doppelganger suddenly screeched and pointed towards the door. Brendon was surprised and looked over his shoulder. There was certainly no batman by the door.
Dumbfounded, Brendon looked back only to see that his doppelganger had vanished.
As I just finished my Darkness Of Flashbacks story that I've been working on for almost a year I feel like I need a new project.
When Brendon woke up the following morning he felt battered. Had last night been a dream? Of course it was, he thought and smiled. Nothing that crazy could happen in reality.
He sighed and groaned as the headache came in waves. "Fucking hangovers!" he growled and slammed his hand onto the bedside table. He searched for the package of aspirin only to find out that he had used them all already.
"Shit." he cursed and slowly got out of the bed. The room was still dark and pleasant for his eyes. Brendon walked towards the window and inhaled sharply before removing the blinds. He screeched with pain as the light almost made his head explode.
The bright light of the sun made him feel sick. Brendon was so mad since the morning had been a failure for him. It wasn't a promising sign of a good day at all.
The singer moved towards the bathroom to take a shower, which hopefully would be a thing to completely wake him up. As he stood in front of the sink and looked into the mirror he was surprised.
His face looked a mess. Dried blood coming from his split eyebrow was smudged around all over his face. "What the..." Brendon started. Then he remembered why his face was like that. Brendon remembered how he had hit himself in the face when he tried to punch the mysterious doppelganger. So it wasn't a dream after all, Brendon thought. His jaw dropped and he gasped.
He was now scared. Maybe the unfresh lookalike would return? Brendon turned cold water on in the shower and took his black boxers off. He now noticed how they had a big hole on the side.
The singer grimaced and threw them into a corner of the bathroom. He didn't want to see them anymore.
Brendon reached with his fingers for the cascade of water which poured from the shower nozzle. He could feel how cold it was even if he wasn't touching it. The fingers vibrated an inch from the flooding water.
The brunette man breathed slowly and broke the beam with his hand. The water was extremely cold and his hand soon went numb. The feeling was quite interesting for the singer. How it all just stopped hurting after a while. "I can do this. Come on now, Brendon." he murmured for himself before he stepped into the shower.
A small shriek escaped his lips as the first drops of water collided with his warm skin. His wet hair got glued all over his face.
The dried blood trickled down his body and colored the floor of the shower pink before it went down the drain. It felt like a rebirth. Being completely clean and empty of feelings.
Every single one of Brendon's senses felt sharper. Every thought became clearer. Like the stream of oxygen to his brain had increased.
When Brendon stepped out of the shower he was all red. His member had also decided that it was way too cold for him and had disappeared for a while. As Brendon cuddled into a soft towel it started to find its way out again though.
The singer decided that what he needed the most was clothes. He walked into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. When he opened the door a creepy smell seeped out of it. It smelled like sour sweat.
Brendon grimaced and shook his head. He threw every single piece of clothing out on the floor and succeeded to, after a couple of minutes, find something clean to wear.
He put on a pair of old white boxers, a pair of loose black pants and a white t-shirt with blue stains of paint sprinkled over the chest.
After that, Brendon walked into the kitchen and found his cell phone lying on a kitchen worktop. He looked at it and saw that he had ten missed calls. All of them were from Ryan.
The singer groaned. He knew that he had to call him back.
His fingers dialed the number to Ryan quickly and pressed the green button. The signal blasted into Brendon's ear for a long time before it clicked. "Brendon?" a familiar voice said.
"Yeah. It's me." Brendon answered and scratched his head. I might need to fix my eyebrow, he thought before Ryan had said anything else.
The singer could hear a loud sigh from the guitarist.
"I've been so fucking worried! Why haven't you picked up your phone? Where are you?" the older man rambled. Brendon could almost hear how Ryan's eyes got bigger and bigger. The questions and Ryan's loud voice didn't do anything good for Brendon's headache.
"Ehm..." Brendon started slowly. "I'm at home and I lost my phone, sorry."
He had lied to Ryan and didn't even feel ashamed of it. "Alright... We're all at Spencer's place and trying out new songs. You should come!" Ryan continued.
"I don't feel so well. I think I'll pass." Brendon said. That was at least not a lie.
"Okay. But I miss you. Just so you know." Ryan mumbled with a sad tone. Brendon closed his eyes. "I miss you too." he said and hung up on the guitarist.
Brendon put the cell phone back on the kitchen worktop and noticed the shards of glass in the kitchen sink. He groaned and remembered the bottle which he had smashed yesterday night.
The singer picked the shards up and cleaned the sink. He was amazed by the fact that he didn't cut himself. That would have been the icing on the cake that awful morning.
Brendon spent the day watching stupid shows on the TV. When it started to get dark outside he felt worry bubbling up from his stomach. He was afraid that the doppelganger would show up again soon.
The worry grew with the minutes ad Brendon started shaking. "Fuck this." he whispered after a while and got up from his comfortable couch. He headed towards the kitchen and started searching the shelves of booze which would cure his anxiety.
He soon found a bottle of liquor which he opened with a smile. Brendon didn't bother to find a glass to pour the clear liquid into. He simply put his lips to the opening and drank from the bottle.
The liquid wandered down the throat with a following warmth. Brendon soon felt safe and fuzzy.
He put the bottle down on a table. Some drops of the liquor had dripped down and stained the t-shirt even more.
When Brendon walked into the bedroom to sleep he was greeted by the doppelganger who was sitting on his bed with an old magazine in his hand. "Oh, there you are! I've been waiting for you." the disgusting copy of Brendon said and grinned. His yellow teeth shone.
Brendon backed towards the door again and swallowed hard. "Who are you?" the singer hissed.
The doppelganger shook his head and smiled. He was wearing the same clothes as Brendon. "I'm you. I'm what you now are." he answered politely. Brendon already knew that. What he needed was more information.
"What's that? What am I?" he asked curiously. The copy of himself grinned. "A mess."
"Why are you here?" Brendon breathed. The copy on the bed cocked his head to the side. "To remind you that you need to fight me to be the man you want to be." he said. It all confused Brendon.
"I tried. Don't you remember? But I was the one who got hurt by the punch." the very confused drunk man said. His copy smiled and nodded. "I do remember that funny little incident. You aren't going to win this with your fists." he said with a big grin across his face.
Brendon walked closer to the man on the bed. He reached out to touch him. When Brendon's finger touched the lookalike's forehead he felt a slight pressure on his own face. He gasped.
"How am I supposed to do it then?" Brendon asked while pressing his fingers harder on the pale copy's face.
The other man couldn't seem to stop smiling. "You have to figure that out all by yourself."
Brendon's brain couldn't understand what the man in front of him was trying to tell him. "I have no clue. Can't you just tell me?" the singer pleaded.
"No. I guess you're not ready yet." the sitting man answered. Brendon wrinkled his forehead and grabbed the magazine in the copy's hand and yanked it out of his dry hand.
"Shut up! I'm ready! You know nothing about me!" he snarled.
The doppelganger laughed merrily at Brendon's outburst. "I know everything about you. If you were ready you wouldn't reek of alcohol now." he said and shook his head.
Brendon's mouth hung open.
"Look! There's batman!" the doppelganger suddenly screeched and pointed towards the door. Brendon was surprised and looked over his shoulder. There was certainly no batman by the door.
Dumbfounded, Brendon looked back only to see that his doppelganger had vanished.
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