hømetøwn

• : / thirty one / : •

For a moment, he just stood there, perfectly still, staring at us. Thoughts churned and flashed behind his eyes. He blinked. Then he took a step backwards.

"Brendon!" I yanked my hand out of Josh's. A sick burn roared in my chest. "Brendon, I wasn't...he isn't..."

Josh's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

I stumbled towards Brendon, scared to get too close, scared to stay far away. He didn't say anything. He just looked at me. Then at Josh. His eyes flicked between us over and over again, like he was trying to see something different each time. Then Josh let out a gasp.

"Oh my God! You're Brendon Urie!"

Brendon didn't react. He just stood there, surveying us. Seized by a sudden bravery, I lurched forward. My arms closed around Brendon's waist and I waited for him to shove me away, for him to look at me with eyes drenched in rage and distrust. But he didn't. His arms wove around me and held me tight. I could feel how tense he was. Hear the erratic poundings of his heart. I buried my face in his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" said Brendon.

Josh shrank. "I...nobody," he said. "Literally nobody. I just -- I came for a record, and she was helping me find it."

Josh's eyes shifted to me. I looked away.

"Are you two...you're together?" said Josh. "I didn't know."

"Yeah," said Brendon. "We're together."

A tight, painful silence followed. Josh scratched his elbow. He glanced away for a moment. Brendon glared at him. His arm held me protectively against his chest.

"Well," Mr. Chester said from the front desk. "This is awkward."

We all ignored him.

Josh reached into his pocket, cleared his throat, and said, "Uh, Lake. You should probably...take this."

I risked a peek out from under Brendon's arms. Josh was holding my phone out to me. My insides shriveled. Brendon stiffened.

"Why does he have your phone?"

"Brendon --"

"No! Just. Just answer the question."

I was silent.

"He gave you his number, didn't he?"

The air buzzed hot with his rising anger.

"Brendon, please, listen to m--"

"No! No, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be a crazy, overprotective boyfriend, all right? That's not me. I swear to God. But this just -- looks bad. It's like you're not even trying to hide it. You come prancing out the back room holding his hand, and he's got your phone and knows nothing about us being together -- if that was me, how would this look like to you?"

My throat tightened, then threatened to close. I blinked fast.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I swear, nothing happened."

"Really? Because it kind of fucking looks like something happened. Or was going to happen."

"No," I said, louder. I pulled away from him and looked him dead in the eye. "Nothing happened. I'm not lying. I wouldn't do that to you. Nothing happened. I just helped him find a record, and he was going to buy me some new shoes. You can ask Josh."

"Josh. So that's his name."

Josh licked his lips and looked down.

"And what the hell do you mean buy you some new shoes? Why would a stranger be buying you new shoes?"