Fuck Off, Church Boy (Bryler|TylerxBrendon)

Chapter 6 (edited)

Can someone please tell me why Jenna Joseph is so fucking gorgeous? Oh my Geesus, I luh dat betch, but anyways, on with the story.

This chapter has major homophobia at the end so if that bothers you, then I don't recommend you read this chapter.

c u l8r m8

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Brendon's POV

I nodded and slowly turned back around and walked back to the door that separated the hallway from the cafeteria building. I decided that I could trust Tyler and that he would actually tell me the truth so I respected his wishes and left.

"Brenny!" I heard my mom's cheery voice and saw her smiling, walking up to me.

"Yeah, mom?" I smiled back one of my famous fake smiles at her.

"I'm afraid it's time to go, hun. We have service very early tomorrow morning and we want to get a good nights rest so we will have plenty of energy," she told me like I was a two year old at daycare.

"Ok..." I nodded and followed her and my dad out to the car.

We had just started pulling out of the church parking lot when mom and dad all of a sudden started laughing their asses off.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Oh, Brenny!" My mom laughed "Did you not see that fag in church?" She and my father howled in laughter again. "Oh my gosh! He was wearing that little black skirt!" she spat. "It was probably the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life!" She folded her arms over her chest. "That boy–I mean it–is going to hell," she ranted on.

"Oh, I know," my dad started. "How did he even get into the church building?–"

"I actually think he looked quite nice..." I interrupted their hateful conversation.

They both looked at me with wide eyes and then at each other. They were probably pretty surprised that I said something because I normally keep my mouth shut. This time, I was not gonna fucking take it. They have absolutely no good reason to be talking about Tyler the way they were. He can wear whatever the fuck he wants!

Yes, he wears makeup. Yes, he wears skirts. Yes, he wears heels. Yes, he wears shirts that are from the girl's section of stores. And guess what? He is still a boy.

I felt my face growing a darker and darker shade of red because I was so pissed at them. As long as he's not doing anything illegal, I think he's perfectly fine being the way he is.

"What?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders. They still just sat and stared, still shocked at what I had just said.

"B-B-Bre-Brendon." My mom stuttered. "W-What did you ju-just say?"

"I don't think he looked bad or anything out of the ordinary. I actually have some friends who dress feminine, and they're boys," I explained to my parents, while my dad still hadn't said anything.

"Where did these friends come from?" She asked.

"School," I answered simply.

"What's it's names?" She demanded

"One, they are not its. You know, a lot of people find that to be quite offensive. Two, one is Gerard and he likes to wear dresses and wear makeup. The other guy is Troye, he likes to paint his nails all kinds of pretty colors and get manicures. And three, they're both gay and I think that they're amazing people."

"Oh my gosh," she mumbled. "Brendon Boyd Urie, I will not allow you to hang out with these awful influences. Look at what they're doing to you! You now think that being a gay is ok! Let me tell you something. It is not ok, and it will never be ok," she growled.

"Actually, I disagree!" I growled back.

"Brendon!" My dad yelled at me.

"Stay out of this, dad," I snapped.

"No, Brendon!" He yelled again. "There is no way that I will stay out of it! I will not allow my son to turn into some unnatural, disgusting fag," he spat with poison on his tongue.

"Well what if I am?!?" I screamed. "What if I am a fag?!"

They both started to try to stutter something out but no words were formed "W-W-W-B-B-Bren-"

"You fucking heard me! I said it! I'm homosexual! Mom! Dad! You heard me right! I like dudes, and there is nothing you can do about it."

And that was the last thing I remember before everything going black.

•••

I wrote this chapter instead of doing my fucking math homework. You're welcome, bitches.