Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > At Least He Makes Me Forget...

Chapter 7

by Gangsta_Girl 11 reviews

"I don't want you to get hurt..."

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Drama, Humor, Romance - Warnings: [!!] - Published: 2006-12-11 - Updated: 2006-12-12 - 1392 words

"Honey, you may know things about Brendon, but you don't really know him. How do you know that his intentions are noble?"

"Mom, he could have any girl he wants, but he chose me. Granted, I may not have known him very long, but I feel like I can trust him. I...I can just feel it. I don't know how else to explain it." I said gently.

"I don't want you to get hurt..." She let out a long sigh. "Even if you and this boy stay together, how will it work once he goes back on tour? How do you know he won't slip up and kiss or, heaven forbid, sleep with another girl?"

I stared at her blankly, blinking back the tears. I knew what she was saying was true, but I really didn't want it to be. I just listened, taking it all in as she continued.

"You won't see him for months at a time, sweetie. Do you think that a long distance relationship with, basically, a rock star will work?" She said caringly as I ran my fingers through my straight brown hair.

"I don't know...but I at least want to try..."

The lecture was over.

And yet the words were still spiraling inside my head. Well, actually, just certain ones. The ones involving you-know-who. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Or him for that matter.

And here I was. 5 o' clock in the morning, sitting down on the counter in the kitchen spooning Ben & Jerry's into my mouth in my pink short shorts and pink and white tank. I tried to convince myself that it was only late-night (or in this case early-morning) cravings, but we all know that I was really swallowing my distress down in the form of ice cream. How typical of me.

I licked the metal spoon clean and hopped down from the counter. "I should probably go back to sleep." I sighed.

I padded softly down the hall, neglecting to turn on the lights. I trailed my fingers, behind me, on the wall as I guided my way back to my room, tip toeing over the creaky floor boards.

After nestling comfortably in my plush comforter I got back up again. Plucking my Sidekick from its position on the nightstand I opened it up and pressed the familiar name on my address book.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ri--


"Brendon? It's Raquel." I whispered.

"What's up?" He said, groggily.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. I have to get up in an hour anyway. We got a radio interview to do this morning. Nothing major."

"Oh, okay."

"What's wrong? You sound like something's bothering you."

"No. I just...well, me and my mom had a long talk last night. She spent a lot of time talking"

"Nothing bad, I hope."

"Um...not really. It's just that she really doesn't know if you are good for me or not..." I trailed off.

"Yeah, Raquel. That's not bad at all." He uttered; the sarcasm evident in his voice.

"I'm sorry Brendon. She just doesn't want to see me get hurt."

"Why? 'Cause I'm like every other douche bag musician who just thinks of himself and goes around fucking random groupies?" He said angrily, but calmly. "I'm not like that. Really. You have to believe me."

"I do believe you. You don't seem the type who'd do that. You're not like any other guy I've met...I really like you." Oh God. Did I just say that? Damn that sugar-induced lapse in judgment. Fuck you Ben & Jerry's.

He paused. "You do?"

"Y-yeah, I do." I said quietly.

I could practically hear him smile over the phone. "I like you too."

I couldn't even piece together a credible sentence after that. I was too busy grinning like an idiot.

Brendon resumed, "Y'know... We're doing a small show tonight, just us and some close friends. You should come."

"You sure?"

"Why not? I'm sure the guys would get a kick out of seeing our favorite store employee again. And besides...we'll be able to spend some time together afterwards.

"I'd like that."

"Good...I'll text you the details later. I'll see you."

"Bye Brendon."


--- --- ---

"Oh my God."

"We got that the first fifteen times." Spencer laughed, twirling his drum sticks between his fingers.

I blushed. "...Well...I just don't know what else to say. You guys were amazing."

"Yeah, we do kick ass, don't we?" Jon chuckled, as he took the bass off from around his torso. "Don't ya think so, Ry?"

"Uh huh. Yeah. Sure. Whatever." Ryan answered mechanically as he leaned against one of the oversized speakers.

"What's wrong, dude? You seem really out of it." Jon prodded.

Ryan shook his head gloomily. "No. I'm fine. Really. Just...I dunno."

"What? Brendon make fun of you smelling like a slut?" Spencer asked with his famous grin, referring to Ryan's vanilla-scented deodorant.

Ryan stuck his tongue out. "No, that's you." He smiled, finally. "I think I'm just nervous about our tour. I just want it to go as smooth as possible. I don't want the fact that I'm getting tired of playing the same shit get in the way of the performance."

"Ready to start recording for your new album, huh?" I popped in.

"Most definitely. I actually have some lyrics already." He tapped his head with his index finger, "They're just stuck in here at the moment."

I giggled. "Don't worry. With a mind like yours, I'm sure you'll have no problem getting all of it down onto paper."

A slight blush crept its way onto his slender face. He looked down at the floor, regaining his composure, then looked back up to me. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"It's true. No need to thank me." I smiled at him.

"How come you never say that to me? My comments don't mean anything to you?" Jon asked, poking Ryan in the side.

"No. They don't. I mean, c'mon Jon, you spend most of your time, deciding what outfit would most compliment your flip flops." He joked.

"A very pressing issue, I might add." Jon stated, knocking off Ryan's hat and ruffling the unruly hair beneath.

Snatching the hat back, Ryan patted his hair down and fixed his bangs over his left eye and set the gray hat back on his head. "Ass."

Jon's laughed, placing both hands over his heart in dramatic fashion. "Ooh! A three-letter insult with one syllable? Aw Ry, you shouldn't have."

"Fine then. How about a two word insult, with one syllable each?" He stuck his left hand's middle finger up. "Fuck..." Then the right hand's. "...You." He smiled.

"Ew Ry. I'm not into dudes. But I'm flattered...really, I am." Jon chuckled insanely.

Ryan rolled his eyes. Jon always had a comeback for everything, no matter how lame it was. I smiled and looked around for Spencer. He must of gotten tired of watching Jon and Ryan fighting like an old married couple. I spotted him sitting near his drum kit lightly tapping out a random tempo.

"Hey Spence." I stated, grabbing him out of his hypnotic state.

"Sup Raquel. What's goin' on?" His ice blue eyes sparkled.

"Nothing really. I was just wondering if you saw Brendon. He said we would hang out after the set, but he kinda vanished after you guys finished playing."

He placed a drum stick to the side of his cheek as his face turned into one of contemplation. "He's probably with-You know, I bet he's just downstairs or something." He concluded quickly.

"Alright." I shrugged. "Thanks Spence. I'll be right back then..."

Turning the corner after going down, who knows how many stairs, I found Brendon snuggling up against some blonde girl, his back facing my position. No need to jump to conclusions, right? Right?


He turned around with the girl still in his arms. "Raquel. I'm glad you're here. I want you to meet someone..." He blurted out, his eyes, searching my own for the strength to continue.

"Raquel...this...this is my girlfriend." He turned his gaze back down to the buxom beauty, "Kelsey meet Raquel..." He said, his faux smile finally fading. "Raquel," he uttered softly, "meet Kelsey."

*A/N: Don't hate me! (I was lacking drama, so...)
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