FicWad

DISCLAMIER: I do not own Panic! At The Disco. Any names in this story are purely coincidental. I only own the sick little stories in my head. =) Enjoy, rate and review lovelies!
XOXO O'Keefe
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From where Brendon stood the view was perfect. He could see every detail of her alluring face; every sequin on her outfit, glimmering like little flashing stars. She wore high black heels that made her even taller giving her an even more respected look as she stood. Long black net leggings under a thin, more than sexy ruffled skirt peeked out, and complimenting that black and red ruffled skirt was a black red corset, decorated in fake red roses. There was nothing else except the minimal gold jewelry she wore. Beneath her blindingly blonde locks pierced out a pair of ice blue eyes. Her eyes were breathtaking. And if her eyes ever failed her then she needn’t worry because her oh so pouty like lips and unmarred skin worked in favor of her. Her high cheeks fit well with her small dainty nose and her pale, clean skin sowed everything up. There was only word well enough to describe her: Stunning. Simply stunning.

She really was something. The bright lights above her were her friend as they cast a sensational glow upon her flawless face. She was a porcelain doll on that stage. Or at least that’s what some of the men liked to call her. Doll. Oh, how she hated that name. But she showed no emotion as she stood on that spotlight, waiting for the music to begin; Her body posed in a jaw dropping stance. Every man in that room had his eyes on her. She did that to people; not that she tried. Yes, every man including Brendon, who shamelessly let his endless hazel eyes travel over her perfect curves; drinking ever article of her in. They traced every aspect of her, from her dangerously high heels to her tempting long legs; up across her flat stomach that you could only imagine beneath that extremely tight corset that managed to form a small ‘V’ between the perfect amount of cleavage.

Brendon’s heart thumped mercilessly into his rib cage as his eyes fell upon her. He had to have her.
So he waited in what started out in patience and ended up in distress. How long was she going to dance? Time seemed to slow down as he his eyes watched her strut across the stage, demanding respect. The second dragged by as if on purpose, and soon Brendon’s leg had gone into a nervous jitter as he waited. His hands were sweating at the simple thought of her. He wearily forced the concept of time out of his mind and contemplated on ideas to catch her attention. He restrained himself from looking up; there was no use yet, everytime he let his eyes glance up from anything other than his dignified peach and lime daiquiri then they landed on /her/. And he didn’t need that for everytime he looked at her, her beauty struck a new chord in him causing his throat to close up.

Though they waited until the last minute of the song playing in the background, the seconds finally sped up in favor of Brendon and came to end her show. As if on cue she was there walking toward his direction of the club —no scratch that, /strutting/. Sauntering, anything but just plain walking. Every man within her range seemed to be unable to look away from her. Apparently Brendon wasn’t the only one pining over this Burlesque Queen. He waited until she was close that there was no mistaking who did it and whistled. And, as if in a slap stick movie, she turned on her heels and stood before him. She was neither amused nor in the mood to get hit on. Her hands came to rest on her hips in a haughty form and she raised her perfect eyebrows.

Without missing a beat, Brendon shot her a cocky smile and lifted his empty glass.

“There’s a reason these table are numbered honey, you just haven’t figured it out yet.” Her tone was laced with a condescendence and her eyes stated that she was already more than bored. His face fell, just for a second. Have some composure, where is your posture? Then he straightened up, determined to get what he wanted.

“Brendon.” He introduced himself, smiling grandly before extending his hand.
She stared at his empty hand for a moment before smiling. She didn’t take it. She didn’t talk to the empty handed people. Once again her heels turned to make her escape but Brendon wasn’t giving up so easily. His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist in a playful manner. “I didn’t catch your name.”
Swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen.
She smirked, impressed that he was actually fool enough to try and reel her in.

“I didn’t give it.”

“But you should have,” Brendon said, taking her hand he had in his and bringing it to full lips so that he placed a soft kiss upon it.
“For a price.” She stated plainly, raising her eyebrows. No hesitation there; Brendon immediately let his free hand delve into his expensive coat jacket to pull out a small wad of bills. He handed her a reasonable amount and smirked. Oh he could definitely play this game. This boy was determined.
She only stared at him in annoyance before deciding that she needed that money. “Victoria,” She spoke airily, hoping to end this little meet and greet soon. That was all it would be. Like she would actually give him anything for such a measly price.

Brendon ran his tongue over the smooth enamel of his teeth before replying. “Victoria,” He repeated, looking up her and down. “It fits.”

It should,” She rolled her eyes; wondering how much longer he planned to waste her time. “It’s mine.” She was feisty, and that made her a challenge. And there was nothing Brendon loved more than a girl playing hard to get.

At this response, he immediately let go of her wrist and leaned back. “You’re very pretty.” Way to be blunt.

Victoria could only force herself not to roll her eyes again. Honestly. She wished he would hurry it up now; she had real customers waiting for; paying customers. Her only desire was to get in and get out. She had no time for the ‘let’s get to know each other’ crap.

“We could have fun,’ Brendon suggested, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes nestled themselves between the curve of her breasts and he grinned. Nice.

Victoria suddenly smiled and shook her head. “Honestly, Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking off her clothes.”

Brendon pouted, “But it’s better if you do.”

She pretended to think the offer before wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. “Oh what a wonderful caricature of intimacy.” She laughed lightly; her voice high and melodious.

She already knew what he wanted and she didn’t care. She wasn’t interested.
Brendon sighed, and pulled out some more money from his pressed coat pocket. “What does a guy have to do to get a pretty doll like you to stay?”
Stop calling me Doll, for one.

“Don’t worry, whatever it is, I doubt you could do it.” She said flatly. Time was up, she was leaving. For the third time in only 10 minutes she turned again, hoping the boy didn’t have any more ‘suave’ tricks up his sleeve. She had things to do. Casually, she left Brendon to comply with his simple drink.
“Au Revior, Monsiuer.” She called back as she slipped away, shooting him a taunting wink. His eyes narrowed after her figure. This was not over, He wanted her.

**
So lightly, that one could hardly notice, Brendon brought out his toy, smiling at the sight. He hands gracefully ran over the pistol he had placed on the table and he gazed it admiringly. There were most definitely other ways to get exactly what he wanted. As if to practice, Brendon made sure the safety was on before pretended to pull the trigger to his new toy. “Bam!” He muttered, snickering. Oh he would definitely get what he wanted.
Brendon had never actually used a gun…but he was sure there wasn’t much to it.
Pull the trigger and Bam, right?
He shot a few more imaginary shots, each time, doing something ridiculous like blowing into the gun afterwards, or trying to spin in his fingers.
“You’re pulling the trigger all wrong,” Spencer’s voice came from behind him. Brendon leaped in his seat, sucking in a breath.
“Chris, Spencer!” Brendon slapped the gun on the table with CLACK and exhaled deeply. “Give me a goddamn heart attack!” Spencer laughed at the comment and took a seat next to his comrade. “Watch your mouth, because your speech is slurred enough that you just might swallow your tongue.” He shot back in defense.
“Anyways, you are, I can teach you, if you want.” Spencer offered, picking up the gun quicker than Brendon could snatch it back. Brendon scowled for a moment before shrugging in defeat. “Yeah, Okay.” He turned his chair enthusiastically for a better view as his friend held the gun up as if he had found a target and smiled. “There’s not too much to it. Find your target, aim small, miss small, when you get ready remember to take the safety off, the pull the sucker as hard as it’ll go!”
Spencer made his own little music to accompany his little demonstration and chuckled. “Yes sir, that’s a nice piece of weaponry you got there.”
He handed Brendon the gun so he could try it.
Brendon nodded in agreement and set the gun down. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught her. She was coming back.
The second he was positive, he was sitting up straight, and clearing his throat in hopes that this time he had a better chance.
Victoria sauntered straight up to their table, but not once did she acknowledge Brendon. “Well, Hey there Mr. Smith,” she greet Spencer, her face lighting up to fit her genuine smile. Spencer grandly stood up and wrapped Victoria in a hug before tipping his hat to her.
“And how is the Lovely Miss Carteray?” He questioned, locking eyes with her. A blush of red stained her pale cheeks at the look and she smiled. “Better than okay, and you Spencer?”
Brendon looked between these, completely baffled. They knew each other?! How had his friend, Spencer at that, come to be such close little buddies with this woman? Why not him? Surely Brendon was better looking than Spencer. Definitely richer, more powerful. He stared between the two, at a loss for words. Spencer for God Sakes! The two friends huddled closely together, tiny whispers at their lips. Brendon glared at two, scowling as Victoria laughed at some Spencer said.

The two stood their, chatting up for over five minutes when Brendon decided to intervene, but before he knew it, Spencer was getting up, without a word and making his way around the table to her.
Brendon’s eyes widened. Where did he think he was going with his woman? He watched as the two walked away without so much as an apology or goodbye to him. Then he eyes fell to the gun.

A plan started forming in his mind; the wheels turning like clockwork.

Silently, Brendon stood up, his chair scraping along the surface of the floor as he followed in their direction, the entire time, his thoughts raging.
Give me, Give me, give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention. Give me, give me, give me envy, give me malice, baby, gimme a break.

**
He waited until he knew the coast was clear. Spencer was still in the empty Ballroom and Victoria had only just excused herself to go perform her last dance. The timing couldn’t have been better. Brendon crept up to the door slowly, careful not make a sound and peeked through the crack. Yes, there he was. His anger boiled at the sigh of ex friend, and his fingered the gun’s trigger.

Can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid.

With one last deep breath, Brendon let the door swing open and he marched in. He pointed his polished pistol at his friend who stared in wide eyes at the boy before him.
“Whoa, put that down Brendon!” He hissed; his jaw dropping. Guns were things you did not play with. Someone always ended up getting hurt.
Brendon laughed, “Get up.” He commanded Spencer waving the gun aimlessly. Spencer raised an eyebrow, but remained seated. Perhaps someone had one to many drinks?
“Get your ass up! NOW!” Brendon repeated, pointing the gun directly at his friend. Spencer instantly sprang to his feet. “Brendon, what are you doing?” He demanded, taking a step towards him.
“Get back,” Brendon ordered, his index finger grazing the safety button. He was through playing games…or almost anyways. It took Spencer a moment to realize that Brendon was being completely serious, then his face went white in terror. He opened his mouth to argue, when Brendon shook his head.
“Don’t. Say. A word.”
Spencer’s hands flew up in defense, “Okay, okay…Easy Brendon. Just take it easy…”
Brendon snorted, “Don’t tell me to ‘Take it easy,’” He spat, using a high pitched voice to mock his friend.
“Why you?” He cried. “What do you have, that I don’t?”
Spencer stared in confusion, “Huh?”
“Tell me!” Brendon said through clenched teeth, “Why the one woman I want, has to want you instead of me?”
Spencer’s throat closed up. It wasn’t like that. At least no for him, he found no interest in Victoria whatsoever. But there wasn’t much of a chance that Brendon was going to let him explain how he felt.
“Brendon, just give me the gun…’ He said softly, his hands in the air, as if to surrender. “Just…give…me the gun.”
“NO!” Brendon clutched the gun to his chest, “GET BACK!”
Spencer did as he was told and jumped back, weighing his options. What were the chanced that Brendon would really shoot him?
Slim possibly?” Without thinking, Spencer lunged toward Brendon, placing a hand on the gun.
The wrestle was on, as the two boys pulled at the weapon, grunting and struggling.

BANG.

The sound was loud, echoing throughout the room. Then there was silence.
Both their eyes went wide at the same time, Brendon’s out of surprise, Spencer’s out of disbelief. A large crimson red stain in the form of a large circle formed directly over Spencer heart. His breathing suddenly went shallow, and within seconds, the ruby red blood had soaked through half of the front of his shirt. Brendon stumbled back at the sigh, horrified. He could have sworn he had put the safety on. Spencer staggered in his spot, swallowing hard, his eyes locked on Brendon. He took a ragged gasp before doubling over, landing on his knees. Brendon froze in a raging shock and watched in helplessness as Spencer sat back, his breath shallow and raspy. Then it was over. Spencer’s body twitched one last time before giving up, his body sagging to the floor.

“Oh God,” He mumbled, backing up. What had he done? He had only wanted to scare his best friend, but never to kill him…

The door to Brendon’s left suddenly crashed open. A loud crack issued through the barren room; it was like lighting in dead silence. Every sound could be distinguished with a wince. The windows rattling, the walls clattering and the pound of footsteps on the linoleum screaming silent accusations. Victoria was stopped a few feet away from Brendon, her eyes scanning the room in suspicion. Her hand flew to her mouth at the sight of Spencer and she rushed over in a field of mixed emotions. She didn’t even bother to touch Spencer, he was dead. He had to be, there were no signs of life in his cold, stained, eyes.
Instead she turned to Brendon, her eyes lining with tears. “What did you do? Look what you’ve done!” She shrieked, pouncing on Brendon in fury. She slapped at his chest with weak fists and cried out in vehemence. Her eyes flashed in unmistakable hatred and Brendon jumped back, throwing his hands up as shield. “I didn’t mean to! He’s not dead!” He cried, though whether it was to calm her down, or to convince himself, he wasn’t sure.
Time to Dance.
Victoria snorted, despite the circumstances. “Well, He’s not bleeding on the Ballroom floor, just for the attention!”

A sob escaped her parted lips, and Suddenly Victoria burst into tears. Brendon let the gun slip from his hands and it landed on the floor with a dull thud. He took her in his arms, holding her tightly.

Well she didn’t choose the role…but she’ll play it and make it sincere.

Muffled sobs filled the air as she soaked Brendon’s shirt with salty tears. It was so silent. The only thing that filled the room were Victoria’s cries.
It’s much better to take these things with a sense of poise and rationality. Why, oh why, had he been so stupid?

Silly girl…Boys will be boys, hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine dreams.