Hidden Expectations

Hungover -Chapter 7-

That's Ken m8eys. <3

                 (Dallon POV)

                  I woke to an empty house. Or so I thought. All the people from the party were gone, and it was just me. Alone. On Brendon's couch. I sat up quickly. I was too fast. My vision blurred and the room was spinning. I could feel the burn of bile rising in my throat. I struggled to run to the bathroom through the spinning house and threw myself onto the floor, and all of last nights contents came out of my mouth and into the toilet. I was trying to be quiet but it wasn't that easy. The sound of my coughing and gagging rang in the bathroom. I felt a little better after about five minutes of being in there. I heard the padding of of footsteps coming down the hall.

                    "Dallon..?" It was Brendon. He sounded tired and was probably annoyed because I had woken him up. 

                     "Hm?" I was standing up, balancing myself on the wall. "What time is it?" My voice was hoarse.

                      "It's almost noon..But that's not the point. Are you alright?" He stepped into the bathroom and coughed. 

                       "Yeah just a little hungover.." I pushed passed him and stepped into the hallway. I walked into the living room and sat down where I was when I woke up. I sank into the couch. I wanted to sit here forever. I felt like genuine shit.

                      "Ah.." Brendon had followed me out of the bathroom and sat next to me on the couch. He didn't drink as much as I had so I doubted he would throw up as much, if he even did. Something was different this morning though. He didn't seem happy, his face was down. He had been crying.

                       "Brendon." I was going to apologize. For what, I'm not sure. The party? Running into him on the street? Sarah? I just felt like his sadness was my fault even though yesterday was the first time we've spoken in years. This made no sense but I felt the need to apologize.

                       "Hm?" He had been very bland all morning. Something was probably wrong.

                       "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw this party on you. Yesterday was the first time we had spoken in years and I just.. I just feel bad." I did feel bad, in all honesty I did. 

                       He sighed, probably not wanting to talk about it. "It's fine. You don't have any right to be sorry. I had a great time. I promise. The only thing that could be remotely bothering me is Sarah but there's honestly nothing I can do about that right now.." His face dropped even lower. I could tell how hard this was hitting him. It's like when a family pet dies. You go a few days without it actually hitting you, then one day. You realize your best friend is dead and they aren't coming back.

                      (Brendon POV)

                       I wanted to break down and die. My wife, my kids, my life, everything was gone and it was my fault. I knew Dallon would ask about it but I didn't think he'd be this..this..I don't know. He was acting a way. I could feel tears brimming my eyes, so I got up and ran to the bathroom. We both had a lot to drink the night before, it only made sense that I would throw up at one point or another.

                       Dallon was getting up to follow me, "Stay there." I choked on my tears. When I finally made it to the bathroom, to my surprise I did throw up. It wasn't because I was hungover though. It's because I was disgusted with myself. I was on the floor so I stuck my leg out and kicked the door shut. 

                      "Are you okay?" I could hear Dallon's voice from the other side of the door. "Yeah it's just from all the drinks I had earlier." I couldn't stop myself for crying. "Yo-you should go h-home. I'll ca-call you l-l-later." I was stuttering and I knew he wasn't buying it but he listened anyways, Dallon knew I needed space.

                       "Alright brotha..I'll text you when I get home..Want me to clean up a little before I leave..?" He sounded sincere but I didn't want to risk the chance of him finding me crying in the bathroom, for a second time.

                        "No I-I got-" I threw up again. "I got it." 

                        There was about a minute of silence. "All...Alright. I'll text you or whatever." I heard his retreating footsteps, then the front door shut. He was gone.

                       I let it all out then. I cried for what seemed like forever. After I got myself together, I cleaned the house. It took about three hours. I wanted to go out, get some fresh air. But I didn't want to be seen by the public. Even though Panic! broke up I was still pretty known, and since Sarah left..well I'm going to be out there a lot more now. 

                       So I decided, I would stay inside for a while. I went through all the rooms in my house over and over making sure they were clean, and that there was no trace of the party. I felt bad for making Dallon leave earlier, but I wanted to be alone. I was sure he understood.  

                       

                        (Dallon POV)

                       When I left Brendon's house a wave of guilt washed over me. I should go back in there and help clean up. But he wanted to be alone, and I respected that but I still couldn't help but feel bad. He was sick and I was leaving him there all alone. I was too sensitive. 

                       I drove home, after clearing toilet paper, and red solo cups off the hood of my car. The apartment was empty, as usual. It was around 1:30 when I got a text from Patrick. We had kept in contact, even after Panic! broke up. 

'Hey, I need to talk to you about Brendon..' 

'K..What's up?'

'No, we actually have to talk. Meet me at the Coffee Shop. And sorry I'm still kinda hung over.'

'I'll be there.'

                         So I left the apartment again, and walked to the nearby coffee shop. I looked in the tan stained window, and saw Patrick, wearing his black fedora sitting at an old, beat up red booth in the back corner.

                           When I opened the door the bell jingled, and Patrick looked up. He smiled and nodded in my direction. I slid into the booth and folded my arms across my chest. 

                           "So what's up?"

                           "We think there's something wrong with Brendon."

SOOOO THIS CHAPTER WAS KINDA SHORT, but whatever. It's gonna get better. I promise. I'm not the best writer, and I'm not the best at making a plot. So yeah, sorry if it doesn't really make sense. I'm trying to make this as realistic as possible. I'd love it if you could vote and comment on my chapters, so I can figure out what I need to improve on and such. ~ Kaylee