Get me Out of My Mind (Brendon Urie)

9. Do I look lonely?

Author's note:

In case you haven't seen it, in quite a few interviews Brendon said he was going to end up being a hairdresser if Panic! hadn't worked out. Hence his job in this story where he is not yet a professional musician.

And now...

A brief, fourth-wall breaking foreword from Erin:

Warning: the following few chapters contain a LOT of Grandmaster Urie. And I mean a LOT. Though it's probably a break for you, because you don't have to deal with my annoying voice for a while.

I will say right here and now that yeah, events regarding the two of us happened after second date. I mean, duh, otherwise there would be no point in me even telling this story.

But I'm taking a brief break before I drive myself insane... uhhhh, more insane than I already am, I mean. Besides, it'll be interesting to see for a little while what Brendon thinks of things. Especially why the hell he's interested in me, and not any other girl like a sane, normal person would be. Honestly, I think it's better if Brendon describes what happens himself for a bit. I'm too exhausted, right now, and because quite frankly it would come out as a garbled mess (that is, even more of a garbled mess than usual, of course.) So- though I can't believe I'm actually saying this- it's probably time that Grandmaster Urie got his point of view in.

Ps. Tell him how arrogant he is for me.

--

Brendon

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I've known Claire Romero almost ever since she started college. And I have to admit, the first time I ever saw her, I had a crush on her for a little while. It's impossible not to; I think that everyone who meets her probably falls in love with her within just ten minutes. She's beautiful, sweet, and witty. So the first time, when I'd just started at the salon, I saw her sitting in my chair, I had this pathetic idea that I was going to date her one day. I was only young at the time, after all.

One thing was true; I did fall in love with her, but definitely not in the way I thought. A few years down the track, the crush had worn off into a solid frienship. Yes, she remained as fucking incredible as ever, but I realised soon on that my attraction to her was pretty damn fickle, based totally on appearance and not anything more solid than that. Just because I knew a pretty girl did not mean I automatically had to date her, and I realised that we were cut out to be just friends, and so friends we stayed, even though my guy friends constantly whined to me about what a waste it was. As if Claire's just a sex object- comments like that always piss me off to no end. Fuckin' assholes.

My younger self would be disgusted by the sheer maturity of that decision.

Claire is one of my favourite clients, partially because her hair is amazing and fun to work with, and mainly because I can talk to her properly, whereas some people buy into the crappy, biased view that all male hairstylists are the stereotypical camp gay guys and therefore are expected to be their clients' gurus for fashion and lovelife. No way in hell am I anyone's guru; I've made enough crappy choices with my own life. I'm sure as hell not going to be responsible for anyone else's. As for fashion... well, as some people (uh, one person, anyway) put it, I dress like a waiter. I have no fucking clue about designers, I just know that I like waistcoats and shirts, and dress like some vintage gentleman. I would even wear a top hat if I could. I have even worn a top hat on some occasions. What can I say? I think top hats are sexy. People should wear them more often.

But if anything, Claire is the one who listens to my problems and gives me advice, which is one of the many reasons I like her. And I was in a bad mood one morning, sulking a bit, and Claire asked me what was wrong.