GOING NATIONAL ~~~ Brendon Urie

one

160 beats per minute. Are you kidding me? For this piece? They might as well have assigned me "Danse Macabre"!

The only person I've ever heard nail solo #18 is Brendon. And that was at 120 beats per minute. If not even one of us has already done this correctly, how am I supposed to take it to nationals?

Practice, that's how.

Now minutes before my roommate gets home, I'm pacing before the front door, trying to get a goddamn grip.

Don't sweat it, Elliot. You've got this.

My doorbell pierces the nervous air around me, and I jump. I sprint to the door and open it to reveal that one sunshine-y smile that I love so much. It's not long that I'm able to spend gushing over my best friend before he claps his hands together and says, "Let's get down to business."

I step aside to let him pass through the doorway, and he dumps his giant duffel bag on the floor.

"What, no hug?" I offer.

"You'll get a hug after practice. IF you stay focused this time." He winks. He knows I like him. He's know for a few years now. Best friendship means honesty. Plus, he knew from day one that something was up.

Sadly, he has a girlfriend. Her name's Sarah, and she's basically all the more reason for me to not act on my feelings.  She scares the shit out of me, but she's so nice that I can't not like her. She and Bren are perfect for each other, and that makes me sad.

But for the next four months, all that can matter is preparation for nationals. So mushy feelings aside, I assist Brendon in the assembly of our practice equipment.

"I-I looked at the snare piece a little," I say quietly as he finishes tuning he snare drum, "and I'm just the tiniest bit intimidated by that tempo..."

"Well I wouldn't be helping you if I know all the content for this audition were easy, would I?" He stands up, "Do you think we have enough room in the flat to keep our equipment? It's a lot of work lugging this stuff to and from the rec center."

"I guess so. Wherever it fits." I shrug. "Hey, before we start, I've got a question."

"Okay, shoot." He steps closer, looking me in the eye.

"Why haven't you asked Sarah to move into the flat?"

"Ellie, so many reasons. Yes she's my girlfriend and I like her and care about her, but you're my best friend, and I've liked and cared about you for so much longer. Plus, you don't have anywhere else to stay. My garage-band-turned-pop-rock-sensation is paying for this flat. Listen, point is, romantic relationships don't get in the way of friendships, especially best friendships, okay? Don't be so down on yore self. You're amazing, and I'd never trade our friendship for a thing."

"You're gonna make me cry, B."

"Oh love, don't cry. I'm sorry." He takes a step closer and puts a hand on my left cheek, causing me heart beat to beat faster.

"It's o-okay," I sniffle, my voices shaking, "I'm r-really glad to hear all of that. I n-needed it."

"I know I said I'd give you a hug later, but I think you need one now."

He pulls me into his chest, holding me close. His smell fills my mind, surrounding me as my breathing slows and my tears dry. My head rests on Brendon's chest, as he rubs my back slowly.

"Thank you," I whisper as he pulls away, not breaking eye contact.

"if never trade you for a thing..." he repeats his earlier words, trailing off.

Is it just me, or is Brendon getting closer?

~~~

heY HEY HEY

I NEED TO STOP ADDING STORIES THAT ILL LOSE INTEREST IN AND FORGET ABOUT

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT

WHO CARES

LETS FRIGGIN GO

-Hann