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Brendon looked at the refilled liquor section with relief. It calmed his nerves to know that he had the alcohol standing there waiting for him, just in case he felt like having an innocent drink or two. Brendon didn't think that he was addicted to the intoxicant liquids. No, he believed that he could quit drinking as soon as he set his mind on it.
But why deny myself a good time? he though to himself.

It couldn't be that bad since Brendon was nothing like those old men lying on park benches with shredded clothes and saliva in their beards.
Brendon was fresh and healthy. A man in his best years. A hot stallion.
The doppelganger had no sense of reality if he couldn't see how happy and strong Brendon was with alcohol in his system.

When Brendon was in the city he seized the moment and bought aspirins, new underwear and toilet requisites. He placed the aspirins on his bedside table and threw the empty package away.
The singer noticed that he had a lot of cleaning to do as he got home too. The kitchen looked like a battlefield with the broken bottles all over the floor. Brendon shook his head slowly.
Before getting down and dirty to clean the mess up he drank greedily from one of his newly purchased bottles of tasty liquids.
Immediately a kind of calmness arrived to his battered body.

Brendon simply couldn't, or didn't want to, realise that he in fact was addicted. He was the typical hard drinker, not noticing the amount of alcohol he chugged every day and getting isolated to be alone with his addiction.
Brendon Urie was in desperate need of help but unable to ask for it.

Brendon grabbed a dustpan and swept the shards of glass up and threw them in the already full bin. Plenty of the colourful shards fell right back out on the floor. The singer was too happy to notice that.
He felt like it was a good idea to do some old fashioned chores around the house.
Brendon cleaned the shower, put the dirty laundry in the washer, vacuumed parts of the house and did the dishes. By the time he was done it was already dark outside. Brendon smiled and felt in his heart that it had been a quite good day.

He had seen Ryan, bought necessary supplies and cleaned parts of the house. Since he was very proud of himself he decided to award himself with some booze. Brendon grabbed the bottle which he had drank from before and gulped down some of the contents.
The familiar burning sensation when the liquid went down his throat was soothing and the warmth afterwards like a lullaby.

Brendon strolled into his living room, decorated in a Moroccan theme, and scanned one of his bookshelves. His eyes soon found what they were looking for and he pulled the thing out.
It was a photo album. The album's binder was deep red and shiny. Brendon smiled as he looked at it. The singer then walked to his sofa and sat down on it.

He stroked the photo album's cover gently with his fingers like it was a vulnerable baby. The black letters on the photo album said 'Ryan'. It was the place where Brendon had stored every picture of him and Ryan together.
Most of the pictures were taken a long time ago, before Brendon loved bottles more than his friends.

Brendon opened the photo album slowly and sighed when he watched the first picture. It was a picture taken exactly one year ago. The picture was of Brendon and Ryan sitting in a park. It was spring, the grass and the trees were green. The boys sat on a checked blanket on the ground. Brendon was leaning on Ryan's shoulder and they both smiled.
Brendon shivered when he watched the picture. He could almost smell the flowers and the scent of the newly cut lawn.

Brendon turned the page and looked at the next picture of him and Ryan. It was a picture of their faces close to the camera. Brendon was squeezing his eyes shut and frowning while Ryan pulled an ugly grimace.
That photo triggered a memory for Brendon. He remembered that day very well. Just after the picture was taken, Ryan had accidentally brushed Brendon's arm with his hand. Brendon had jolted and stared at Ryan.
Something happened that exact moment. None of the boys could really explain it but they were pulled towards each other like magnets. Ryan's lips brushed against Brendon's and the singer had never felt so happy and so confused.
They then pulled away and it was like nothing had ever happened.
Brendon nor Ryan had talked about it.

Brendon sighed heavily and decided to put the photo album away. It hurt him too much to look at the pictures. He couldn't understand why he and Ryan weren't that close anymore.
The thing he didn't think about was that it was his fault. He was the one pulling away. But in Brendon's brain, Ryan was the one letting him down.

It was late and the house was dark. Brendon felt so lonely. Like he was the only living person in the world. He stood up on his legs and breathed loudly. "Fuck!" he screamed. His emotions were like a storm. They changed every second.
"Fuck this! What am I doing here?" Brendon yelled and kicked the sofa with all of his powers. The anger from within was unleashed. Brendon kicked the sofa multiple times until his powers failed him.

He was out of breath and his heart was beating like a hammer from inside of his chest as he stormed into the kitchen and grabbed the first bottle of alcohol he could find.
Brendon put his lips to the opening and let the liquid dance down his throat. He stopped to breathe. The singer now felt quite dizzy.

Then he resumed his drinking. Drenching and murdering the emotions was the only thing he could think about. When he put the bottle down the second time he felt funny.
He could see the comical side of everything. Even the tap was extremely amusing. Brendon chuckled and heightened the bottle again.
As he put it down the third time it was almost empty and he now felt sick. He could feel his stomach turning and grabbed the sink with his hands before the loads of stomach contents escaped his mouth. The sink was full of chunky vomits and smelled awful.

Brendon scrunched his face up and groaned. He felt so tired. So damn tired.
The bed, he thought and took a wobbly step towards his bedroom. It was an effort doomed to fail. Brendon's balance wasn't present.
The singer stumbled and fell to the ground, where he stayed. Even if Brendon wasn't in his right mind he knew that there was no way that he could walk all the way over to the bed. He had accepted that the kitchen floor was his sleeping place for the night.
He closed his eyes and was embraced by darkness.