Lay in the Atmosphere (Brendon Urie) Wattys 2017

SIX

His front door was a double and it had a vinyl texture to it, black in color. It took me about five minutes to actually reach the door because his property was breathtaking. The fresh green grass, the towering palms, the magnificent glow of fire flies dancing like they were at their very own ball. It's silly, but it felt magical.

It also took a lot more courage than I thought it would to knock on his door. He was stepping up his game, but, I did too.

He didn't answer.

I bit my lip, debating whether or not to knock again, but instead I decide against it. He had asked me to come in after all.

I turn the knob to one of the doors slowly and get goosebumps when I realize it's unlocked and open.

The vinyl door makes a small creaking noise that echoes throughout Brendon's large home. I wince at the sound, it was painfully obvious I had arrived. It must've been obvious to Brendon too, because the gates behind me closed before I could even take another step forward, loud as they collided with the gravel.

I clear my throat and swallow hard, my mouth was irritatingly dry.

"Hello?" I ask softly into the abyss of his almost all black mansion.

I was visibly shaking, out of excitement and out of fear. I hardly knew the guy at all, what if he's some crazy serial killer? But like, a super hot one?

"You made it. I knew you would." His voice calls but I'm not even sure where it's exactly coming from.

"There's a staircase in front of you, why don't you put your legs to work."

I huffed at his comment and shut the door behind me, my heeled boots clicking against the marble floor and eventually against the steps up to Brendon's second story.

I took each step slowly. Each step I would ask myself another question. What was at the top? What if he kills me? What if we fuck tonight? What if he wins the game?

I tried to ignore the questions, and I once again, outwardly portrayed confidence, but inside I was screaming.

"I'm in the room to your left." Brendon says, everything in his house dark.

All of his lights were off but the moonlight glowing through his floor to ceiling windows made walking down the hall much easier.

The door was only open a crack, and I press my finger tips to the wood, pushing it gently to reveal Brendon's silhouette, sitting in a chair, his elbows resting on the arms and his fingers to his lips.

I could barely see his face, but his eyes were piercing and engaging enough for my breathing to hitch.

"Is that you, Miss Jackson?" Brendon asks in disbelief.

His left arms reaches to a drawstring, tugging at it gently as the curtains open a bit more, light falling from the night sky and onto my skin. I was literally glowing.

"My, it is." Brendon's voice lowered.

"Do you know why I asked you into my home tonight?"

Brendon stood, walking closer to me as I inched back, eventually stopping my own feet. I wasn't going to give him a point tonight. Not in a million years. I got a fucking wax. Tonight was my point. Again. I was competitive, and I love winning.