FicWad

It was days like these which made the world seem way too big for a girl like me. My heart was racing as fast as a hummingbird’s wings could flap as they glided through the air, graceful and gracious, right before a gust of wind hit them and left them plummeting to the ground. My hands were shaking, fingertips becoming numb as I clenched them in a tight ball—terrified of the situation I was about to encounter. My breath was uneven and I had to fight to calm my nerves. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, my hands found the doorknob and slowly I wrapped my fingers around the knob, turning it until I felt it click. I took one last deep breath and finally I opened my eyes, then I put pressure on the door and watched as it opened to unveil my possible destiny.

My heels clinked as I walked across the linoleum floor, my guitar bouncing against my stomach and thighs. Standing in front of the row of chairs, I decided to eat my fear and look into the eyes of my greatest challenge. Brendon Urie was sprawled out in his chair, legs kicked up on top of the table, hands crossed behind his head. His eyes were slightly closed as if he were zoning back and forth into sleep. To his left, sat Spencer Smith—rigid and proper—his foot was propped on top of his thigh, a clipboard rested securely in one hand, in the other lied a pen which he feverously clicked and balanced within his fingertips. Spencer took certain interest in the paper on the clipboard before looking back to me, giving me a reassuring smile. Brendon remained uninterested—maybe he truly was asleep.

I felt as if I had swallowed my own tongue and my throat was tightening—suffocating me into complete silence. I cleared my throat and finally found my voice. “I’m Valerie Grigori.” My voice was soft, almost too quiet to be heard over the loud turning of the air conditioner in the background.

“What will you be playing for us, Valerie?” It was Spencer’s voice I heard of course. Brendon still remained in the same exact position as before. I had always imagined the band differently. In all the interviews I had seen the boys in, in all the music videos and concerts they had performed for—not once had I imagined Brendon being so arrogant. He was always so talkative and funny, but now he wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence. Not in a million years would I have believed this—I would have imagined Spencer giving me the cold shoulder before Brendon. Spencer was always so reserved and quiet, an introvert some may say. Brendon was the complete opposite. He had been my idol for so long, the reason I didn’t give up on my music despite the ridiculing sneers my family would make. But this was proof that not everybody is as they seem and you can’t rely on anybody to support your dreams.

“I swear if you do not shut up I am going to personally bash that guitar in myself!” My sister sneered at me through gritted teeth—her cheeks reddening from the anger that rushed inside of her veins.
I pleaded with her. I begged her. “I’m almost done. Just give me five more minutes, please.”
“What will five minutes do, Valerie? You sucked five minutes ago, and you will still suck five minutes from now. Just quit while you’re ahead.” My sister leaned against the wall, stroking her long golden blonde hair. She was 2 years younger than me but she had always ruled our household. She was popular and made sure my high school life was a nightmare. She was simply cruel.
“I almost have this song down. Erica, I’ve spent days sweating over this. I think I may finally be able to finish it. Please, just go back to your room. I promise I’ll only be a couple of minutes. I really need to finish this.”
Her blue eyes pierced into me, they reached my very soul. “You drove Dad away. He couldn’t bear to have a screw-up daughter like you. And he didn’t give you his gift of music. You are nothing, Valerie—absolutely nothing. And you never will be anything. Go ahead and practice for five more minutes because at the end of the night, I’m the one who everyone already loves. And you’re the strange redhead that will never be loved.” I choked on a sob and found myself staring into the eyes of the one person I’m supposed to be able to trust. But you can’t always trust those you should because not everything is as it seems.
[//]

“Actually, I’m playing a song I wrote, The Rise.” I was snapped out of my memories and placed in the real world, where I was awaiting a pivotal moment in my life.

Spencer nodded and I softly began strumming the chords on my guitar. Strum down twice on A, twice on F… “She lives a two-sided life. She’s running ‘round and ‘round. But she’s facing down her own enemy, that child-like voice inside of her head. It says run, run, and run.” I laughed before I hit the chorus, “But she won’t. She wants to shrug off her mask. And unveil herself to men. She wants to crawl around with strangers, and show ‘em all in.” Brendon sat up straight, mouth gawking open, eyes opened wide. Spencer sat smiling while I sang the rest of the song—until the very last verse. “She’ll just blink and say that’s all there’s left to see.”

“Oh my god, get Pete!” Spencer yelled to one of the men guarding the doors. Brendon grabbed Spencer by his shirt collar and grumbled something under his breath. Their inaudible voices sounded angry and full of frustration.

“What’s the deal?” Pete said as he was coming from around the corner. It was Pete Wentz—THE Pete Wentz.

“We found her!” Spencer spoke incredulously. He spoke with a tone in his voice that resembled adoration.

Brendon rolled his eyes and pushed his hands through his hair, then pushed himself away from his seat. “We did not. She is a girl. This isn’t a chick band. I can understand if you want to finally replace Ryan. But can we at least have a fucking guy? Or do I have any say in this?”
“Brendon, she’s perfect. Did you not hear her?” Spencer was now yelling at Brendon too. This band was falling apart—no thread was thick enough to fix the stitching in this relationship. They didn’t need a guy guitarist—they needed a therapist.

“I heard her. She sounded like a girl.” Why isn’t he a smart one? Brendon was a complete and total asshole.

“Brendon, you are being ridiculous. If she is that talented, what does being a chick matter?” Pete looked at me then made me feel even further more awkward, “Could you play for me really quick?” I stayed silent and looked at him as if he were insane. I was stuck inside of this room of “band-mates” and they were not having a bonding moment—I felt like I had interrupted a bad family reunion. He prodded, “Go on.” I played the song again, this time for Pete. He gave the same kind of response as Spencer had. “Brendon she’s perfect.”

“Well she can go be perfect in somebody else’s band. Not mine.” Brendon was ridiculous. At this point—I don’t even know if I would want to be in a band with him.

Spencer laughed, “Your band? You have got to be kidding me, man? This is our band! Not just yours. Maybe we need something different to give this band a spark!”

Pete nodded in unison of Spencer’s words. “He’s right man. You need her.”

Brendon looked me up and down, sneering at me in every possible way. I averted my eyes away from him; he made me feel really uncomfortable. There was silence before Brendon said a gruff, “Fine.”

Both Spencer and Pete smiled at each other. “You’re in, Valerie.”