THIS IS NOT GOSPEL • (Brendon Urie)

Chapter 4 • Build God Then We'll Talk

"You go in. I just have to fix myself up." I said.

"Ok." He replied.

I went upstairs and took everything off. I threw the dress on my floor, and washed my face from the mess that had occurred on it.
I was so angry at everything, I wanted to throw myself off the balcony. I couldn't call my mother because my father had my phone. So I just sat there in the corner of my room, knees buried in my chest, I wanted to scream. I was half naked but that didn't seem to bother me right now.

How could he? She was my mother. I was an adult, I was legally able to make my own choices. I had never let him down. I shaped myself up into the woman he wanted me to be. And now, he was fuming mad just because I was speaking to my mother. After everything I had given up for him. I could've easily rebelled against him and lived life my own way.
I thanked god that my faith was so strong. Without my faith I was nothing. It gave me the strength I needed. I allowed God to fill my heart up with forgiveness, I took a deep breath and stood in front of my mirror.

I could hear muffled voices near the stair way. I froze, trying to hear what was going on.

"Just take the first door to your left."

"Up here?"

"Yes."

I walked towards my closet but then the door suddenly flung open and Brendon walked in. Worst timing. I shrieked.

"Oh my goddd." he said, putting his hands up and quickly turning around and walking away.

"Wrong left. Wrong left." He said, opening the other door.

This day couldn't get any worse. What an idiot. He was 26 years old and didn't know his right from his left? Jesus Christ.

I quickly took the first dress I could grab ahold of and zipped it up. I decided to leave out the makeup and just go down there with a naked face. Last thing I wanted was my father to give me one of his concerned looks. Brendon was walking down the stairs and stopped in his tracks, walking backwards two steps up.

"I'm so sorry." He said.

"It's ok. There is one thing you should learn about me Brendon. I am a very forgiving person." I replied.

He nodded.

"Okay. Good." He said.

I was still mad though. About everything. Sure, I had calmed down, but I knew as soon as I saw my father I was going to be angry again.

We walked into the dining room, all eyes were now on us. Brendon cleared his throat, pulling the chair and allowing me to sit.
My father waited for Brendon to sit before he opened his mouth again.

"How lovely of you to join us, you came at a great time. We were just talking about following the right paths. Brendon what is your idea of a right path?" My father asked. Great, straight off the bat, no ice breakers not nothing. Classic.

"I dunno. Any path is the right path, as long as you don't end up overdosed and dead on the side of the street." Brendon replied.

My father looked over at me. I avoided eye contact and stabbed my fork into the steak on my plate. He cleared his throat.

"So, how close do you feel to God?" My father asked.

"Well I've never actually seen him with my own eyes, so....I'm guessing not that close?" Brendon said.

What he was saying was very blasphemous. And I wasn't liking where he was headed at all. Neither did my father.

"So you don't believe in God?" My father asked.

His parents seemed unbothered, like they already knew and were okay with it.

"Not really, I only come to church just to listen and seek guidance. Sometimes I need an outside perspective on how to make life decisions." Brendon replied.

"Interesting." My father replied.

"Of course Brendon, you still do believe there is a god?" His father said.

"I don't like to think that I would believe in something I haven't seen with my own eyes." Brendon replied.

"God is everything around you. Everything you see. It is his creation. You have to have that sense of spirituality as well." My father said.

"Can we talk about something other than God? Like why there are starving children in Syria, doomed to live in fear because of some stupid political quarrel that is occurring that they have nothing to do with? Or are we just going to sit here and talk about an imaginary being, up in the clouds?" Brendon said, placing his fork down.

"Of course issues like that are important too, but that's not what I was asking." My father said.

"Oh yeah?" Brendon replied, placing his cutlery down.

"Build God then we'll talk." Brendon said, standing up and leaving the dining room. How dare he?

My father continued to eat, almost as if nothing had happened. How could he remain so calm? What Brendon had just said went against all of what my father stood for. And there he was, completely unbothered. So he was bothered when he found out that I was speaking to my mother, but he remained calm when Brendon tried to prove God wasn't real.

I stood up, placing my fork down and pushing my chair out, the scraping sound of the legs echoed in the silent dining room.

"Please forgive our son pastor. He doesn't like talking about religion, it's a sensitive subject. His parents said.

"It's fine. God will guide him." My father said.

"Excuse me." I said, walking out of the dining room, leaving them to talk about whatever lousy topic my father was going to bring up next. This whole day had went horribly wrong, and I wished that I would wake up with amnesia tomorrow so I wouldn't have to remember any of it.