The World's Not Waiting For You (FOB FanFic ft. Brendon Urie)

Chapter 20

I don't think I've ever felt worse than I did after Elisa's whole scene at the school. After she disappeared into the school, everyone's eyes found their way over to me and my cheeks and ears began to burn in embarrassment. I rushed inside and found Saint, wanting to leave as soon as possible. I grabbed him and dragged him out of the school. But since Elisa and I drove there together, I had to wait for her to take us back to Pete's place.

The drive there was torture. Pure torture. Not a word was spoken between us and the tension was strong.

The minute she dropped us off, sped away, never to return again. And I was okay with that. To be honest, I was okay if I never saw her again.

"Uncle Patrick?" Saint asked.

"Yeah, Saint?"

"What happened between you and Aunt Elisa?" Kids. They always seem to know everything.

I sighed and ruffled his hair, "Nothing, Saint, just a little fight is all. Let's go pick up your brother. He's probably been waiting forever for us."

*****

Saint, Bronx, and I were sitting in Pete's car, driving back home when the older of the two brothers looked over at me from the passenger's seat and asked, "Hey, Uncle Patrick?"

"What." I muttered, my grip on the steering wheel tightening even more than it already was. My knuckles were white.

"This morning, Dad told me that he's coming into to town for a concert this weekend. Do you think we can go?"

I slowed down to a red light and sat back in the seat, not replying to him. I didn't want to think about Brendon, let alone see him perform on stage with my band with my fans cheering him on.

"Dad said we wouldn't have to get tickets - he could get them for us. He could even get us backstage passes. I really want to go, Uncle Patrick. Can we please go?" He besought, looking at me with puppy dog eyes and pouting his lip out.

The light turned green and I pressed down on the gas pedal, propelling the car forward. "Bronx, I-I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

"What's there to think about?" Bronx interrogated. He was really getting on my nerves. "Uncle Patrick, I want to see my dad."

"I want to see Daddy too!" Saint chimed in, smiling innocently at me through the rear view mirror.

"Yeah, you wouldn't keep Saint from seeing his dad, the only parent he has left, would you, Uncle Patrick?" Bronx taunted me. I glared over at him.

"You just had to add that little part, didn't you?" I growled under my breath.

Bronx smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, "Well, Uncle Patrick? Would you?"

"Don't keep me from seeing my daddy, Uncle Patrick," Saint murmured, tears brimming his eyes. It was like the two of them were ganging up on me. God knows how many times that happened when I was locked up...getting ganged up on...

"Like I said, I'll think about it," I said, "Now stop asking me or I won't let you go at all."

"Someone's being bitchy today..." Bronx mumbled under his breath, shifting his gaze out the window. My jaw dropped in astonishment.

"Hey! Don't use those kind of words!" I scolded him. "Especially not in front of your brother!"

Bronx rolled his eyes, muttering, "I'll say whatever the fuck I want to."

"Bronx!" I yelled at him, "You really don't want to go to that concert, do you?" He remained silent. I swallowed hard before saying, "Look, I don't need it from you today, Bronx. I already had enough from Elisa. So just don't swear in front of Saint and I'll let you go to your concert. Fair enough?"

He stared at me for the longest time before replying, "Fine."

"Thank you..." I shook my head and returned my focus to the road.

"What were you doing with Elisa? She was your wife, right?" He asked me casually, as if he was an adult like me.

"She came over," I answered, "She just wanted to talk. Things just escalated and...it's a long story I don't really think you want to hear. So let's just drop it. Please."

*****

I was sitting in the kitchen by myself, staring at the notebook I had my list in.

WHAT I NEED TO DO TO GET MY LIFE BACK

1) Get Elisa and Declan back

2) Get my band back

3) GET BRENDON OUT OF THE PICTURE

I read those three things over and over again before I became angry and just tore the page out.

What was the point of it if I didn't want anything on the list anymore? I sure as hell didn't want Elisa anymore. She's changed since I was arrested, and it wasn't for the better, I can tell you that. I don't know what the hell Brendon did to her or said to her, but she was not the same woman I fell in love with or the woman I slipped a diamond ring on her finger.

And Declan? I don't believe that he missed me at all. Brendon was the man he was raised by, he probably wouldn't even recognize me if he saw me. In fact, I know he didn't. Because at the park when he pushed Saint over, he acted like he'd never saw me. Like I was some scary parent at the park who was going to yell at him for pushing his kid over. So I don't really want him back either.

As for my band...my band wasn't my band anymore. I mean, sure, it was still Pete and Andy and Joe, but...one of them was using me so they could do things he couldn't do being a single dad and the other two couldn't find the courage to talk me, ask me how I was doing, what I was doing now that I was released. I didn't even want to write music for them anymore. It probably wouldn't fit the "new sound" of the band. I should just go solo again, but god knows what happened last time I went solo...

And then there was the cause of all of this. Brendon. He didn't need to get out of the picture, because there is no picture for him to get out of. He just needed to get out, period. And I knew just what I needed to do.

I crumpled up the piece of paper in my hand and threw it to the side. I pulled the pen that was still in the spine of the notebook out and scribbled a heading on top of the next page.

"New Plan..." I read what I was writing down aloud, under my breath, "...kill... Brendon." I smirked as I circled the line many times over.

I slammed the pen down and stood up, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room Bronx and Saint were watching TV in. "Hey, you said the concert was this weekend, right?"

Bronx and Saint both looked back at me, their heads barely peeking over the back of the couch they were sitting on.

"Right?" I repeated myself.

"What about it?" Bronx replied.

"I want you to call you dad. Tell him to get us those backstage passes. We're going to that concert."

"We're going!?!" Bronx inquired excitedly, turning around on the couch so he was facing me.

"We're going." The corner of my lips perked up. Bronx squealed in delight before dashing into the kitchen, Saint following after him, and picking up the phone and calling Pete.

Little did they know that we, more specifically I, wouldn't be going there to watch the show and cheer them on.