Get me Out of My Mind (Brendon Urie)

7. You know that you feel it too

"Erin."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a slight smile. Huh.

"Steak thief." I greet him curtly, with a nod of my head. This is a surprisingly cool, witty answer for me. It's a pity I don't deliver it well, the way it should be delivered; instead, the words blur together to sound more like Stethoscope and Brendon asks me to repeat it, which I begrudgingly do making it a hell of a lot less effective.

Yes. You heard me right. ( Unless you misread that word and thought I said Branden asks me to repeat it, in which case, fun fact, I would actually be talking about my cousin Branden who is a bratty preteen that calls me Errie-Berry and pulls my hair.) Brendon asks me to repeat it. Brendon Urie is standing in the movie theater where I work. Somehow.

Brendon Urie walked in here. Brendon Urie saw me dancing and singing with a broom like an extra out of Hello Dolly or something. Brendon Urie helped me up when I almost faceplanted again.

Brendon Urie heard me yell at the CD player to stop.

Brendon. Urie. Is. In. My. Workplace.

I smell Claire's doing on this, and begin mapping out a plan for vengeance in my head. She probably told him where I work, like the interfering little fairy that she is. I have very little doubt about that, and it kind of annoys me. I did say to her, after all, that at this stupid party she's throwing I would at least 'try' to give Brendon a proper explanation about why I ran off after our date. Except that was quite a half assed promise, and I'd planned never to speak to him again, not because I don't like him but because I don't like the fact that he doesn't seem to be scared off by me.

What do I have to do? Do I have to jump out at him with a plastic mask on screaming BOO before he runs away screaming? Let me tell you, I can and will do that. (I do it to Claire all the time in the month leading up to Halloween. In response she usually says nothing, but then strategically places plastic spiders around the apartment. Both never fail in freaking each other out.)

Why is he smiling at me, as if he's actually pleased to see me again? Hell, why does he even remember me? Doesn't he have a girlfriend by now? Some pretty, perfect-figured girl with luscious hair and wide eyes who doesn't just run around shrieking all the time like I do?

"Why?" I manage, wondering if I can go and stick my head in the gelato until both he and the horrible red splotches that I know are spreading unevenly over my skin in embarrassment are gone.

He's wearing glasses today, the fashionable black type, but it doesn't hide the glorious eyebrow as it arches up his forehead. (I feel like his eyebrow deserves its own theme song. Perhaps Eye of the Tiger would be fitting. Eyebrow of the Tiger, anyhow.)

"Why...?" He prompts me, and I stare at him for a few seconds longer.

He's hotter than I remembered... Wait, no no no no, I didn't think that.

"Why are you here, in my neck of the woods?"

What the fu... Keep it PG, Erin... dge? Why did I say Neck of the woods? Next thing you know, I'll be sitting on a porch swing, sipping sweet tea and saying Dangnabbit. Actually, since my parents have been talking about moving to Atlanta themselves for quite some time, maybe that will happen. Who knows? I don't. I don't know anything at this particular moment in time, except that Grandmaster Urie has strutted his way into my Movie Theatre and if he's found this address from someone whose name ryhmes with Claire, then I am buying a bottle of pink hair dye to put in my room mate's shampoo, or something like that.

"To watch a movie?" The other eyebrow joins its brother on his forehead now.

"Why?" I'm a stuck record right now. Why? My mind laments. Why, why, why, why?????