Your Secrets Safe With Me (Brallon)

Wrong

(a/n: Hahaha I'm terribly depressed, hahahahaha.)

The door closed heavily behind me as I shoved my hand in my pockets and walked further away from the home that had been my sanctuary from the hell that was my life. Everything felt like it was going wrong again, for once it felt like it was going right and then it took a nose dive back to awful. The call I had received while at the mini jam session with Spencer had sent chills down to the bone. I could still remember the harsh rasp over the speaker. It almost sounded like they had used software to alter their voice to be deeper and unrecognizable, but either way, I had no idea who had sent it.

I continued to wander through the suburbs as I tried to get a handle on the words of the call: "I know where you are, and I know what you're doing. You are going to pay for this. You are going to pay for this you faggot." Shaking my head subtly, I tried to clear the sound of the voice from my head and focus on everything around me. I had changed out of Dallon's t-shirt into the tank top I had brought with me, seeing as when I got anxious or nervous I got hot and I felt like was trapped inside the oversized fabric. The tank top with the sides cut out was much more comfortable for a walk to try and calm down.

The sky above the suburban town was a dull gray, representing the dreary lifelessness of the "American Dream." It made me think about how pointless and boring life could be. You wake up, go to work, watch TV shows about people living exciting experiences, and then you go back to sleep just to wake up the next day and do the same thing. How disgusting. I wanted a better life for myself one that was entirely away from suburbia and the torture of my childhood, but someone was trying to ruin it. Dallon deserved to have a good life too, and if I wasn't already determined to make my life better, then I was going to work my ass off for him.

Strolling down past the houses and by the small strip mall that contained a dry cleaner's, a florist, and an EZ Mart. There was a stand-alone smoothie hut with a drive through that held a "help wanted" sign in the window. I had wanted to get a job to help Dallon with things like grocery money and maybe to pay for my own stuff. It always made me feel bad when he bought my lunch at school or bought me things like clothes and guitar picks, but he still insisted that 'it's what boyfriends are for.' For once, I wanted to have the money to buy him something instead.

The door chimed as I stepped into the tropically themed restaurant. A cheerful looking blonde girl with a cute little gap between her teeth stepped out from the back welcomed me into the establishment. I shyly approached the counter and looked sheepishly at the girl whose name tag read Louise. She gave me a comforting smile as she went to take my order, this was going to be awkward since all I wanted was an application.

"H-hi, c-can I g-get a job ap-application?" I managed to stammer out, suddenly losing all of my confidence when talking to human beings that weren't Dallon.

"No problem hun, I'm the manager, and since we aren't too busy, I can do an interview real quick." She gave me another sweet smile before grabbing a clipboard and pen before leading the way to a table off to the side.

Once we were seated across from each other, she waited patiently for me to fill out things like my name, date of birth, and home address - I put Dallon's address considering I didn't have a real home. Once I had finished, I slid the papers back over to her and waited as she marked off some things that were for her benefit.

"Alright, Brendon, why don't you tell me a little bit about why you want this job?" Louise asked, not pressuring me to answer quickly.

Well I couldn't just come right out and say 'I ran away to live with my boyfriend after my parents beat me half to death and I need money to pay him for living there', now could I. Picking my words carefully, I made up a better sounding reason for needing a job that would make her more likely to consider me for the position.