The Publicity Stunt - Ryden

Chapter 8: Panic! At the venue

Pete was late. The show was in an hour and no one seemed to know where the hell Pete had disappeared to. He wasn't answering my calls, or anyone else's for that matter, but I wasn't worried. Pete was always late, but he always walked on stage right on time.

People around me were freaking out about how we would do sound check without him and I rolled my eyes, foot propped up on the table as I took a bite of one of the peaches the venue had set out for us. It was a small show. Maybe 1,000 people if even that, but fuck it was the most hyped up performance yet. Everyone was dying to see us on stage, and I silently blamed Brendon for the unneeded publicity. Ever since we had gone public he could be seen all over town wearing a close corners t-shirt. It was my design. Black with light grey writing. The more simple the better. We didn't need our faces plastered on any available surface. Just the name would do. Brendon looked damn good in it, though, and I loved seeing my design come to life on a model, especially Brendon. Apparently everyone else loved seeing it too.

"I'll step in." I hear from my left and I turn to look at Brendon, who's to my left on the couch, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. "Just for soundcheck. It's just to set up the mics right?" He asks with a perked eyebrow.

I haven't paid him too much attention since he arrived here. I didn't even know why he came so early. He was supposed to come for the concert, but he had shown up an hour before he was supposed to. He was playing the role of the perfect boyfriend a little too well, but I wouldn't say anything. It was kind of comforting knowing I had someone by my side. Even if it was Brendon.

"Yeah that's cool with me." Spencer says with a smile. He had been looking at us weird all day, and I was beginning to think he could tell what happened between us, but that was impossible. "I bet Ryan would love that." I roll my eyes at that and move to stand up, putting down my peach and grabbing my guitar.

"Well then what are we waiting for?" I say with a small smirk. Brendon Urie singing? Yeah, I had to see that. Now.

***

My hands move over the guitar strings as I play the first few chords to our song "Reminisce". I hit the pedals below me with my foot until the chords sound just about perfect. We are only a few chords in when my entire body stills.

His voice swims through the speakers and my throat dries instantly. Everything out of his mouth sounds like complete and total bliss. I turn to him and take a deep breath. He's singing my lyrics, my song, and he's fucking nailing it. I want to hate him for it, but I can't.

I'm staring now as he stops singing. He looks me over with a smirk and clears his throat gently. "Yeah I think the mic is fine." And my eyes are as big as the moon. He's actually talented, and not just in the 'look in a camera and be handsome' way. But I'm not telling him that. He'd get too much pleasure in knowing I think he's good.

"Holy shit dude, if we ever lose Pete, Bren should totally step in." Dallon says with a chuckle.

"If we ever lose Pete I'm leaving the band too." I say instantly, rolling my eyes at Dallon.

He's about to say something when Pete walks on stage. "I'm not leaving anytime soon fuckers." He groans, rubbing the back of his head. I look him over and smirk when I see the visible hickies on his neck. He must see me staring because he instantly says "Patrick loves marking his property." I chuckle gently at that and give him an understanding nod. Brendon moves from his stand so Pete can take his place and do a signature growl into it. The mic sounded great, Brendon was right. That was a first.

***

Backstage was buzzing before the show, and I could feel my chest tighten considerably as I looked at the clock. I tried so hard not to get like this, but I couldn't stop the panic attack from coming. Social anxiety was a bitch, especially when you're in front of a crowd every night. I was used to the panic attacks, but that didn't make them any less scary. I was hyperventilating, I knew that. Fuck, it was hard to breath, and why was it so hot in here? "Can someone turn on a fan or something!?" I snap, not meaning to come across as so rude.

I clutch my chest in my hands and fall back against a wall, my head clouding with worry as I close my eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't go on like this. I need to go home I need to--

Lips hit mine. When I open my eyes I'm met by Brendon. His eyes are closed while mine are wide. What the fuck was he doing? I hold my breath before kissing him back, all of my stress melting away. When he pulls back i let out a soft breath and he smirks as he takes a step back. "What was that?" I ask, my eyes still blown as I look at him.

"Holding your breath helps stop a panic attack. When I kissed you.. You held your breath." His eyes are soft, almost caring, and it makes me wonder why I hate him so much and. No. He was Brendon. This was for the crowd, not me. I nod gently at him as a small thank you and bite my lip.

I would make him pay for that kiss later.