Weight In Gold (Brendon Urie)

The Car

The first night here was the worst.

All day before I was successfully able to distract myself from the real problems at hand, but a time comes when everyone must sleep, and when I try to sleep, my mind wanders. It wasn't my thoughts before I slept that bothered me as much as it was the dreams I had when I finally did fall asleep.

I haven't had night terrors like that since I was 13, but that night they came back, and I don't see them going away any time soon. I only woke up from my dream once last night, but when I did I was screaming so loudly that I'm surprised no one called the police. My nightmares are untreatable. The biggest thing that sets them apart from usual bad dreams is that I can never remember them.

Luckily, I'm awake now, but I didn't wake up on my own accord. I slowly open my eyes, and when there's a big enough space in them that I can see, the first thing I notice is a body hovering not more than 3 inches away from my face. This terrifies me, and with a scream I shoot straight up out of bed, hitting whoever was in front of me in the face. Hard.

"Ouch, what the fuck!" I hear them yell. Oh no, that was Brendon.

I quickly try and readjust to the light so I can see properly and be careful not to do that again.

"I'm so sorry, Brendon," I sputter out. He looks over at me with one hand over is left eye and an unamsed face, similar to the one he made in the kitchen yesterday. "Get dressed. We're going shopping," he says before exiting my room. I wonder if this me-hurting-him thing is going to become a pattern. I look over at the clock on my bedside table and see that it says 9:07. I'm surprised Brendon is awake.

There's a dull throbbing pain in my head from where I hit, but it can't possibly be as bad as his eye. I also seem to feel a bit dizzy. I slowly get out of bed, making sure not to trip in the process and walk over to the dresser in the east corner of this room. I open one of the drawers to get a thin white shirt and a white skirt with thin black lines going across it both vertically and horizontally. To make the look stand out a bit more, i put on a blue bomber jacket with roses embroidered into it. For shoes, i wear thick soled black combat boots and a pair of white socks with black stripes at the top. The socks go to just below my knee. can't help but notice the smooth glide of the drawers as they open and close, signifying high quality.

I then walk over to the vanity and get started on my hair and makeup. My hair is naturally extremely curly, which can be a blessing or a curse. Today, it's a curse. It looks more like a lion's mane than human hair, and I immediately become embarrassed that I interacted with another human looking like this. I decide to leave my hair simple, and just straightenit and leave it at my shoulders. Then I do my makeup, and when I'm done I walk in to the bathroom to get a complete look at the outfit.

In Arizona, I would die from a heat stroke in this outfit this time of the year. This kind of outfit would only make sense in the winter, and even then I might be a little warm. But here in Chicago, it doesn't get too hot. Not even in August. My bare legs look like they're going to form goosebumps the second I walk outside. I bet this sounds ridiculous to most people considering that it gets up to like 80° over here, but I'm accustomed to far above 100° almost every day of summer.

After I feel completely ready, I walk downstairs to where I assume the rest of the household will be.

I notice my hunger before I notice much else, and so the first thing I do it walk in to kitchen. Sure enough, the refrigerator door is open, and I'm pretty sure I know who's behind it. I decide I don't want to scare him again like I did yesterday, so this time I announce my presence.

"Sorry for whacking you in the eye, guess your reflexes are going to have to be faster than mine," I say lightheartedly as I take a seat in one of the kitchen stools. Slowly I see the refrigerator door close, revealing someone, but definitely not Brendon.

I guess this guy was expecting to see me just as much as I was expecting to see him, because when he turns around and we lock eyes, his initial response is to scream. This startles me, and I scream back, which causes him to scream again, and before I know it we're in a match of screaming back and forth at each other. It doesn't last long though, because after a few seconds Brendon is running in to the kitchen with a face as if he just saw a ghost. Then he looks at the boy, then back to me, and then the boy again, and his face starts to relax.

"Well, I was planning on introducing you two formally," he says with a laugh, "but it looks you've already handled introductions." This boy and I are still staying in our places awkwardly when Brendon speaks again. "Uh, Ryan, meet Ashley, I live with her. Ashley, meet Ryan, my best friend." Ryan gives me a cheeky smile after Brendon introduces us, apparently rebounding from the whole screaming situation fairly quickly, so I do the same back to him.

"Well," Brendon says and claps his hands together, "are we ready kids?" Ryan cringes and shakes his head at Brendon as he starts walking towards the garage and I laugh a bit, following in suit with ryan

I hadn't seen the garage yet, and to say I'm amazed with what I'm looking at is a gross understatement. I see at least 7 sports cars as I look around, each of which remind me of my dad and his constant rambling about different kinds of vehicles.

Surprisingly enough, rather than walking over to one of the beautifully crafted cars in front of him, Brendon and ryan immediately walk to a red convertible. It's not that it isn't nice, it is, I'm just surprised at his selection.

"Do you ever take any of the other cars?" I ask. Him and ryan exchange glances and both laugh. "Definitely not," he sputters out through his laugh, looking like he's getting stitches in his side. "Why not?" I ask.
"I'll tell you why," he starts, "A. This car is my baby, and I would never dream of taking another one." He says this with a tone of finality, so after a second or so I say "What's B?" Brendon looks confused. "What?" he asks. "You said A. was because the car is your baby, so what's B?" Without missing a beat, Brendon responds by saying "B. Is fuck off and get in the car."

I don't really feel up to arguing with him any more, so I walk up to the passenger seat and start to open the door. Before I can sit down, I feel a hand on my arm. I look up to see Ryan. "I think not, backseat for you," he says, gesturing for me to sit in the back. I look over to Brendon who simply shrugs, so I roll my eyes and get in to the back.

As we start driving, Brendon and Ryan start their own conversation about people that they know or something, and since there's no way I could possibly contribute, I decide to stay quiet.

The ride proves to be quite boring, and before long I find myself analyzing Brendon and Ryan's appearances.

Ryan looks like he came straight from the seventies. He wears what looks like a handmade headband on his head, but you can only see a little bit of it poking out from his mop of curly hair which unlike Brendon, he wears down. He also has on a retro looking vest over a white shirt and very odd pants. They are a strange mix of green and beige with some patterns stitched in to the pockets. His outfit is strange, but it suits him. He's good looking, but in a different way than Brendon. Brendon looks much older than he is, and his features have already matured. He looks like the type of guy who all of the girls would be interested in once he gets to college. Ryan however, has a much younger face and definitely looks his age. He's very skinny and looks around six feet tall. I can picture him holding a guitar and winning over the girl in an indie highschool movie.

I also notice that Brendon appears quite different from when I met him. Yesterday, he was in his pajamas and until last night he was fairly un talkative. His hair was also a total mess. Today, he's wearing a simple white T-shirt and tight black jeans, and his hair is combed and looks like it has a bit of product in it.

"Enjoying the view?" Brendon says, glancing at me in the mirror. I'm a bit embarrassed but don't want it to show so I quickly think up a snarky response. "No, just wondering if you knew about that giant zit on your chin." Brendon looks a bit panicked, and then leans his head forward to look at himself in the mirror. Ryan and I both start laughing as he realizes that there wasn't a sit at all.

A few seconds later, a song comes on that Brendon and Ryan start singing along to. I don't recognize it, but the two of them know every word. I don't catch much of the lyrics, except for something about someone leaving a god damn door open. What I do observe is that both Brendon and Ryan have fantastic voices, and they compliment each other very well. All I can say is that their singing made this ride all the more enjoyable.