Miss Jackson || Brendon Urie fanfic

10. Alex

It's currently Friday. The boys will be back home around midnight. I'll probably go to Brendon's house to wait for them, since they asked me to. I don't know how I feel. Ruby is annoying as always and I'm still an emotional mess. I have about nineteen cuts right now I think. I'm happy it's getting a little colder, because it means nobody questions it when I wear long sleeves.

***

It's ten pm and I'm sitting on Brendon's couch, playing guitar, when suddenly the door bell rings. Strange, Brendon can't be home yet. Who the fuck would ring his bell right now? I get up, hang the guitar back on the wall and open the door. There is a woman there that I've never seen before. She has dark hair -could be brown or black, I don't know, it's too dark to see- and a pretty face.

"Hello, you must be Alex, right?"

I give her a weird look. How does she know me? "Yeah..."

"I'm sorry if I'm scaring you. My name is Breezy. I'm Dallon's wife."

"Wife? I didn't know he was married?"

"Text him if you don't believe me."

So I do. Turns out it's true and she can stay with me. Great.

I'm happy she respects my personal space. I sit at one end of the couch, while she sits on the other. She's eating a lot. Like dude, is she pregnant or something? 'Cause she's eating enough food to feed an elephant for a year. And all that in not even an hour.

***

Next thing I know, someone is shaking my arm. I wake up and lazily open an eyelid. I see Brendon and Dallon hanging over me, whispering "Wake up. Wake uuuup."

I sit up and look around. No Breezy. I didn't dream that, did I?

"Where's Breezy?" My voice isn't much more than a whisper.

"She didn't feel too well, so she went home." Dallon answers.

"Oh." What more can I say?

"I'm gonna go unpack a few things first, alright?" And with those words, Brendon walks up the stairs.

Shit, the blade. It's like it's burning a hole through my pocket right now. I didn't put it back. I hope he doesn't notice.

Unfortunately, he does.

"Alex, have you seen my razor? It's not in the bathroom anymore?"

"Why would I have seen it? I haven't been upstairs." I lie. What else can I do? Say yes, I used it to make like twenty-five cuts in my wrist? No. Not doing that.

"Can you help looking? It's an old razor, like a blade."

"Like, right now?"

I don't have time to protest more, 'cause Dallon grabs my wrist and tries to pull me off the couch. "Get off your lazy ass and hel-"

He gets cut off by me, screaming in pain because he opened a few cuts by grabbing my wrist.

He turns his head, looking at me with his eyes wide open. He looks at my face, my wrist, back at my face, back at my wrist. I think he gets it. The blade that's gone, my hurting wrist and the long sleeves, even if it's freaking hot in here.

"Alex... Can you show me your wrist please."

I shake my head. No way he's gonna see what I did to myself while they were gone.

"Alex. Show me your wrist."

"No."

Dallon grabs my wrist again, flips it over and he pulls my sleeve up.