But It's Better If You Do || Brendon Urie|| EDITING IN PROGRESS

Chapter Eleven

She took a few large whiffs of my recently shampooed hair, making me feel very uncomfortable.
Do I smell bad or something?

"Is- is that- ...men's cologne?"
Oh shit. That's why.

"Well- uh...when I hugged Brendon..."

"Brendon? Who's Brendon?!"

...An extremely attractive guy with millions of dollars to spare...

"Soraya's friend."

She paused for a long moment, looking only at the ground, deep in thought.
"Why is his cologne in your hair? Why was he even close enough to you to get that disgusting smell on you? You know what, Alex, you're-"

I knew exactly what was coming after that, but I didn't care enough to continue listening. It didn't matter.

My thoughts then shifted over to Brendon upon hearing his name.
Those intoxicating brown eyes...
That stellar appearance...
Thoughts of the previous night came flooding back to me as my mom rambled on for decades about lord knows what, and I couldn't help but wish that Brendon was by my side once again. Something about him- whatever it may have been- strangely completed me. I hadn't noticed just
how incomplete I had truly been until he came along and showed me. I knew it was odd to fall for a total stranger this hard this fast, but it happened all the time, didn't it? Thousands of books, films and other public things portray relationships in which two people fall hard and fast. Until Brendon Urie casually waltzed his way into my life, I honestly thought that was all fake Hollywood shit. Guess not.

Eventually mom noticed my failure to pay any any attention to her lecture.

"God damn it, Alex, you never listen to me anymore!"
She slammed my bedroom door so hard that a cool breeze raced through the room and whacked me right in the face. Guess that was her wimpy way of slapping me because she didn't have the guts to actually do it with her hand. Ha.

Once she left my bedroom everything was fine again. I jammed my headphones violently into my ears and turned the volume up all the way so that nothing could interrupt me. I grabbed a hand-me down old, dusty journal from underneath my bed and dusted it off with my hand. Dust flew everywhere, leaving small specks on some nearby furniture. Inside that journal rested some of my best kept secrets and stories...stories that could not be seen or known by anyone else except for me and a select few who could be trusted with such information. I grabbed a pen from my nightstand and flipped around nervously to the next blank page, labeling it simply with a peculiar letter:

"B"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Alright guys, first off let me just say that I am genuinely sorry about the length of this page, but I'm just not feeling very inspired right now. Usually I start stories and never finish. I made a deal with myself that I'd finish this entire story for you guys since I'm well aware of the pain associated with a story that the author never finishes. I'll try to finish this one for you awesome people out there who actually take the time to both read and enjoy my works. Love you all!

-ShortStories432