There he was, sitting in a booth at the farthest corner in the room, holding a short, stumpy glass containing a translucent, deep brown liquid. Almost as deep and dark as his eyes. His gaze met mine. They're intense, especially with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and focus. I could just see his brain working out the situation behind his eyes, which seemed so translucent, as my brain was doing the same. His mouth was slightly gaped open, the lighting perfectly shaping his lips. I knew that I should've walked away, but I couldn't help but to think the universe was giving me a sign. I inhaled sharply, closing my parted lips, as I disconnected the gaze, and walked toward the bar.
"One glass of whiskey, please," I said to the tall bartender as I sat myself on a plush stool. Placing my elbow against the glass-covered counter, I rested my head against my hand, tilting it. I tried not to look back.
"You know, I came here hoping to avoid you, since you seemed to dislike my presence this morning," said a deep voice behind me, husky and smooth as honey. I turned around to face the owner of the voice. He stood barely a foot away from me, even closer to the dance platform. The first thing I saw as I turned around was his skinny frame covered by a slightly see-through white button-up shirt, sleeves scrunched up to right below his elbows, flashing his tattoos, and his dress pants. The height of the stool made it so that that was the only view I saw. I tried to fix my eyes upwards, to his face, but when I did, the lights shone directly above him, so all I saw were shadows contouring his prominent facial structure. My eyes followed his as he stepped to the left, until my vision of him was crystal-clear, and he was seated on the stool right next to me. I turned around to face the bar. The seats were spaced just far enough away from each other so that he was close to me, but not to the point where we were having physical contact. The bartender handed me my drink when the stranger next me raised his hand, and said,
"One Scotch, please." I turned my head to face him.
"You know, after all this, I still don't know your name."
He held up a finger, gesturing for me to wait, and he took out his phone. I stared in confusion, until my phone rang . I pressed the home button, and just as I tried to press in my password, my fingerprint unlocked my phone. I noticed that there was a new text notification, and opened to see what it was.
Check the contact^
I looked at the top of my phone screen, and it said:
Brendon😉
"Brendon Urie, nice to meet you." He held out a hand for me to shake, which I found to be a strange introduction after what had been going on. I reluctantly shook his hand, feeling his cold rings grace the top of my small palm. Our eyes shared contact, and lingered, until I pulled away. He cleared his throat as we both turn ourselves to face the bar. Awkward silence drowned out the blasting music. Instead of actually ingesting my drink, I swirled the cup around, and focused on the tiny hurricane forming in the brown liquid, no different from the drink Brendon had earlier. The silence went on, until I felt his stare burning through the side of my head, and said,
"Why are you staring at me?", without looking away from my whiskey hurricane.
"No reason, I just think you're intriguing."
"Yeah, so are all the other girls in here, wearing close-to-nothing. Why don't you go chase them?"
"That's the thing. They have no shame. They don't even care if they're going be hit-and-run on. They just like the satisfaction, the thrill of being wanted by quantity, not how much they're wanted."
"So you just like stripping girls of self-worth? Is that what you're telling me?"
"Do you always do this?" he asked, his eyebrows once again furrowed, but this time, wonder and concern were behind his eyes.
"Do what?"
"Push people away. Act like you don't care."
I got defensive. "Well, I'm sorry if you're seeing this side of me. I don't like it either, but I came here, hoping to be in solitude and peace after a long day at work, not seeing some guy I hooked up with, not remembering him at all."
His face hardened. "Same here. I guess my plan to avoid you backfired. I should go." His blunt statement hit me like a bomb. Once again, guilt filled my body, because truly, I wanted him to stay. I didn't know how, though. I'd never been an open book, and with the circumstances I'd been through, it made sense. So, my first reflex was to grab his arm as he was walking away, before he left me. The sudden stop caused me to tug on his arm, and send him bouncing back towards me, until his body came in contact with mine.
Once again, we ended up in a staring contest. It lasts for a while, until...
Hello! Once again, I'm so sorry an update took this long, but as the A/N said, I've been fairly busy. Also, I'd just like to give a heads up: I may be re-writing this entire story, because the storyline and backstory of the main character is not actually fitting, and really, hard to write. I will leave this up, though, and just start a new story on the side. This may be because this was/is my first story, and I rushed it for the sake of having a story. There will also be new stories coming up, for I have several ideas that I actually like, but until then, Au Revoir!
