Sarah Smiles

Folkin' Around

Brendon's POV

I got caught hanging out in Ryan's living room by her mother, so now I'm having a 'sleepover' with a bunch of teenagers. I haven't done that since I was a teenager myself. I almost feel old. Almost, but not quite, because I'm still young at heart. Also, because it's hard to feel old when the majority of your fan base is between the ages of 12 and 18.

We're all sitting in a circle in Ryan's basement playing truth or dare. Well, going over the rules at least. Who knew there were so many? "Ok, so the rules are: 1. No dangerous acts for dares, 2. Whatever happens here, doesn't leave this circle. If anyone blathers, we have permission to expose them. Everyone got it?" Tanner explains. I think the rules are pretty standard, but we've been sitting here for, like, fifteen minutes hashing them out.

We all nod in agreement and Ryan starts, "Ok, Brendon Boyd Urie, truth or dare?" She has a look of mischief on her face and I'm slightly terrified.

"Wait, why is my middle name on public domain?" I ask, trying to stall. Obviously, I was the one who put my middle name out there, but they could dare me to do anything, or they could get some ugly truths on me. Either way, this could end very badly.

"Stop stalling, make a name for yourself, boy you better put the pen to paper, charm your way out!" Sarah sings, playfully swating my arm. Why does she constantly quote my songs at me? It would be creepy if they weren't all public. I decide to just go with it, and think of another one of my songs.

"Stall me, stall me, I'm all in!" I sing, but I get glares all around. Tough crowd, I guess. I leg out some air and pick a poison. Here it goes . . . "Imma go with dare, but just remember that karma is a bitch." I sigh. Everyone looks at me like I'm crazy. Shit, Ryan must have really good dares.

"I dare you to . . . oo! Kiss Sarah!" She says, rubbing her hands together. Oh fuck. Kiss Sarah? I don't want to get into trouble, but hey, she's cute, and if it's for a dare . . .

"As long as Sarah is OK with it." I answer. She nods and scoots closer, turning her face towards mine. She looks nervous, so I just stare at her for a moment.

"On the lips! For at least ten seconds." Tanner adds. Of course it had to be said, this is a children's game, goddammit. Sarah scowls at him, then turns back to me, closing her eyes and leaning in towards me. I can see her lips quivering, so I swallow some more.

"Wait! What counts as pedophilia nowadays? Like, if I kiss you, are you going to call rape on me of some shit?" The thought occurs to me as I'm trying to save her, and (let's face it) myself. I can't afford to end my career over one stupid dare.

"Just shut up and kiss me, Brendon." She says, grabbing my shirt and pulling my face down to hers. We're pressed together, awkwardly at first, but then our lips start to move together. This is pretty good for someone who's never kissed anyone before. And I thought she was nervous, maybe it was just me.

"Ahem! What is going on here?" Mrs. Chum's voice pulls us out of the kiss and sends both Sarah and me shuffling to the corners of the room. This is bad. This is really bad! Mrs. Chum might be chill, but she's still a mother.

"T-truth or d-dare, " Ryan stutters out to her mother. "That was my idea, I'm sorry mom." She looks like she's about to cry, glancing at me with an apology in her eyes.

"Was it at least consented?" Mrs. Chum looks at me with piercing eyes. I can feel my blood turning to ice in my veins.

"Of course, I'm not a criminal, Mrs. Chum. I asked Sarah if she was OK with it before it happened. Actually, she made the first move . . ." I try to explain. Sarah looks at me, eyes all glassy, and I can almost read he thoughts. She wishes this had never happened, even if I am her favourite singer. "I'll just go, it was nice of you to have me here, but it seems that I have over stayed my visit." I say, way too formally. I stand up and rub my clam my hands down my jeans. I really need to get out of here before I bring more trouble.

"I'll see you out." Sarah offers. I nod and we walk up the stairs together, awkwardly. I can practically feel Mrs. Chum's eyes burning holes in the back of my head as we retreat. I feel horrible, and I hope that's some consolation to her.