Dear Mr Urie (A Brallon fic)

29. Love's A Fucking Drag

You'll always hear him before you see him, and everybody hears him. The rhythmic clack-tap of the soles of his heavy leather boots stubbornly refuse to be ignored and unacknowledged, even in the mass of voices and scurrying kids. Conversations gradually turn to incoherent words that dissipate into thin air, and hushed whispers fall upon the lips of the familiar.
But he likes it.  A single spotlight illuminates his form in his mind's eye, fragments of silver across the leather and snug denim reflecting the light away from his tall frame. Zips, buckles and chains jingle a harmony to the rhythm of his boots in his imagination, and a smirk pulls at the corner of lips as he nears his destination.

Confidence. One word, 3 syllables, and a sense of courage he's never had in himself before 6 months ago.

6 Months.

He makes an abrupt turn and rests against a locker.

"Hey Ry. Ry-bean. Rybena."

Ryan groans audibly and peers from behind his locker door.

"That was probably the worst one yet, Dal. Go away, you're a dumbass." A tiny smile cracks through his disgruntled front and Dallon grins, proud of his ingenious concoction. The Rybena.

"Aw come on baby, you love me."

Ryan rolls his eyes, still smiling. "I hate you Daldo and I'm not anyone's baby."

"Ah is that so?" Dallon's grin turns sly as he holds up a steaming takeaway coffee cup.

Ryan's eyes widen and makes grabby hands at the cup. "Caramel macchiato with soy??"

"Ah ah," Dallon retracts his hand, shaking his head. "soy caramel macchiato WITH a little hazelnut blended on the top."

Ryan bats his charcoal-lined eyelashes at Dallon discreetly.

"Hey Dallon," his voice as sugary as the coffee in Dallon's hand. "you know I'll always be your Rybena."

---

(Dallon's POV)

"Woah dude hang on, where are you going?" Ryan calls out from a few steps behind as I make a left turn into a corridor.

"Chem?"

"...It's Thursday." He frowns at his phone screen. "Double English."

English. Right. It was Thursday. Double English period. Right. "Ugh." I grunted in response. "I totally forgot, I would've just come after."

"Well, are you coming?"

"There's plenty of time. I need a break first. You want one?"

Ryan shook his head and laughed lightheartedly. "Dal, school hasn't even started yet."

"Catch you later." The smile was heavy on my face and slipped off as soon as I turned away.

---

Every breath I drew from the burning stick was a french kiss with the devil. Chemicals surged through my bloodstream with every inhale and artificial menthol enveloped my taste buds, barely masking over the sourness of the smoke. 

I hated it. Every fucking drag. I hate the way it smells, the way it makes my eyes water when I hold the smoke in for too long, and that it's just another thing I'm hiding from mom. But. But. The look on his face if he were to see me right now. The horror, the chagrin contorting his face.

There. I can even see his stupid face when my eyes are closed. I grin and sardonically whisper a name into the morning air.

"Brendon Urie. You fucking prick."

I dropped my head back onto the wall where I was leaning against and let the name echo throughout my being. Infinite echoes filled with malice stirred the animosity in my heart. Anger is good. Anger keeps me from feeling lifeless. Anger gives me a voice.

"Yes." A much gentler voice rises from the vicious waves of red. "Yes, there is absolutely no doubt Brendon would be horrified. But if you're so sure he doesn't care about you, then for what reason would he be appalled for? He's only going to be sad because he CARES."

The silence in my mind takes a stab at my throat. No. No, no no no. He's never cared for me, not from the start and certainly not at the end. He broke my heart and left me in a mess at the foot of his bed. He's gone. He's not coming back. My calls wouldn't even get through to his line anymore, he's left with his car and the fragment of my heart. So he can take his bullshit and feed it back up his perfect ass.

I bring the cigarette back up to my lips and draw in another breath of chemicals and rage.

---

 I'm 15 minutes late to class, but then again do I care? Not really, no. Ms Kitching is speaking to the class as I enter, and as per always, I ignore her existence completely.

"Mr Weekes." Her nasal voice calls out to me sharply. What now.

"Yes Ms Bitc- Pardon me. Ms Kitching?" Ryan snorts softly from behind me. She glares at me which only makes my lips twitch in amusement.

"You're late."

"I happen to be aware of that."

"I'm sending you to detention after school." I clench my teeth together, willing myself not to dig through to a longer sentence.

"Will your boyfriend be there?" And then I failed.

"Excuse me??"

"Nothing."

The rest of the class looked on in amusement and confusion. "Wait did he say your boyfriend or boss I didn't catch it." Breezy whispers. 

I turn to Breezy to answer her question as towards the empty seat next to Ryan. "Boss. As in Jones. Our principal." She mouths an "Oh", looking slightly unnerved by me. Funny how time changes thing.

"Go to your seat, Weekes. I don't want to hear another word from your mouth."

"Oh no actually I was planning to walk home right now." I mock under my breath as I take my seat and Ryan laughs. "God damn, someone's feeling nasty today. Also dude, you smell like shit."

"Shut the fuck up." I laughed. "Bail me out of detention, ry-baby?"

He rolls his eyes at the nickname. "What's in it for me?"

"A date." I reply after a moment's consideration. "Bail me out and I'll take you out."

A/N: YA GIRL'S BACK WITH A CHAPTER!!!!!!!! My my my, what is going on here. Honestly, what is this mess? What is happening with our favourite tol bean?? This chapter took ages to write oml. Please give me your thoughts and feedbacks as always, and stick around for the next one! Love and appreciate every one of you, thanks for waiting guys!