Keep Me Out Of Trouble (FOB FanFic ft. Brendon Urie)

Chapter 13

Months had passed since I left Los Angeles behind. Brendon had since been released from the hospital, but still hadn't come out with information. I didn't understand why. All he had to do was say I was the attacker and then there would be, without a doubt, a search party looking for me. Their mission would be fruitless, though, because the man they'd be looking for, Patrick Stump was no longer alive.

Donnie, however, was. He moved to a small town in western New York, into a small apartment a little outside of downtown. He didn't have much of a background other than that he was a new bartender at this bar five minutes away from his apartment. People adored him. He had a great personality and became friends with nearly everyone he served a drink to. Women swooned over his suaveness and his apparent innocence, men were jealous of him (others hoping he swung the other way), but he remained single.

Nobody knew about the colored eye contacts. Or the black hair dye. Or that the life he was living was a lie.

Nobody knew about his true identity, his true past.

But me? I knew all about it, and I couldn't forget about it. As much and as hard as I tried, I couldn't forget the pain I'd endured over the past four years. I couldn't forget the pain I'd had when I found out my wife (or shall I say ex-wife) had married the man who pinned the murder of his wife on me, even worse when I found out she was pregnant with his child, which I discovered she gave birth to shortly after I disappeared. A baby boy, whose name I did not know.

Maybe that was why Brendon hadn't come out with any information yet. Because he had a family to focus on now. He didn't need reporters hounding him about a psychopath who tried to kill him but didn't, who wasn't going to be found unless someone found my trail I tried best not to leave behind.

This new life I'd taken on? I hated it. Sure, Donnie had a better, easier time assimilating into the modern, forever-changing world better than I, Patrick, had upon being released, but it wasn't any better. I had no friends, no family, I couldn't do what I loved (play music), and I absolutely hated that. But most of of all, I hated being away from everyone who used to be important to me, and who still were important to me. I missed them.

Out of everyone who still cared about me (which wasn't many), I missed Pete and the boys the most.

Over those few weeks I had spent with the three of them, I became really attached to them. Almost like I was a second father to Bronx and Saint. It gave me a purpose, almost. A reason to wake up for every morning, because I sure as hell didn't have that reason to wake up every morning while in jail. Those boys were my reason.

And then I abandoned them. With no goodbye, no "I'm sorry", nothing. They didn't understand what I'd done, why I had to leave, get a new name and a new face and a new home.

It was the same situation for Jane, only difference was that she knew what I'd done. She knew why I had to leave, get a new name and a new face and a new home.

She was on my mind nearly every day (I mean, I had to think about something other than the possibility that this plan could go south and that I would be locked up again). I wondered if she stayed with Christian, or if she divorced him, even though I told him she would if he helped me escape. I wondered if she still cared about me. I wondered if she loved me as much as I'd realized I loved her. I wondered if she even remembered me.

All my thoughts were clarified when one day, while working, someone walked through the door, sunglasses covering their face and a hood over their head. The bar wasn't crowded yet, for it was very early in the day, early for drinkers at least. This person walked up to the bar and sat down on one of the stools, taking off the sunglasses and hood, revealing the face of the girl I'd talked to for four years. The girl whose house I went to after making the worst decision in my entire life. I immediately lit up and went over, "Jane!"

She looked up at me with a perplexed expression on her unbruised face, "Do I know you?"

The smile on my face vanished as I recalled she wasn't aware about the new me. She hadn't seen how I looked before ditching town, only Christian and his friend did.

"Oh, uh, no," I lied, looking down and continuing to dry the glass I had in my hands, "But, uh, I think we might've met at a party once. I used to be friends with your sister, Meagan."

"Oh," She retorted, "What's your name?"

I wanted to tell her it was me. I wanted to so badly. But it'd only been months since I committed the crime, since I fled the scene, I needed to give it a little more time.

"Donnie," I told her.

"That name sounds familiar..." She said, crossing her arms over her chest and biting her nail as she went into thought, "Where have I heard that name before?" I set the dry glass down and picked up another one. Jane gasped, "It was in a song! Or it was the name of the song...? I can't remember."

"Really?" I chuckled, "What song?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I'm no good with names, but it's this song by this band, Fall Out Boy. Before they got the new lead singer."

"I heard he was stabbed," I continued to conversation, acting like I'd just met this girl, planning on how I was going to tell her it was me. I wanted to. "Poor guy."

Lies. He deserved what he got.

"Yeah..." She shifted ever so slightly in her chair, "...it's a shame."

"Did you know him?"

"Not personally. I kind of knew about him through a friend, though."

I set the other glass down and draped the towel over the rack connected to the bar, "Well, is there anything I can get for a beautiful lady like yourself?"

Jane's cheeks grew a deep, flattering shade of red. "Jack Daniels on the rocks, please."

"Coming right up," I assured her, flashing her the grin I flash all the ladies. I prepared her drink and slid it across the bar to her.

"How much will it be?" She inquired, pulling out her wallet.

"Nada," I retorted, leaning on the bar and smiling, "It's on me."

She smirked, "Just tell me. It's not like I can't pay for it."

"No, really, don't worry about it." She tilted her head down in embarrassment before picking up the glass and taking a sip. "So, tell me, what's a girl like you doing in a crappy little town like this?" I inquired, wanting to know what she was doing in New York.

Jane placed the glass down on the counter and sighed, "I just needed a fresh start, you know?" I couldn't help but glance down at her left hand. There was still a wedding band on her ring finger.

"Yeah, I do," I told her, meeting her gaze, "I did the same thing."

"Really?" I nodded my head. "Where are you from?"

This was my chance to tell her. She basically had set me up for it. But another idea popped up in my head and I opted to reply with, "You know what? Why don't we talk about this over a nice dinner?" I suggested, "That way we can get to know each other more when I'm not working, seeing as we seem to have a lot in common."

She shook her head, "Alright. Sounds great. What do you say about tonight?"

"Tonight sounds wonderful," I grinned.