The Extremely Personal Journal Of Brendon Boyd Urie, Entry #1
Los Angeles was more than just a home to me. The majority of the important milestones in my life had occurred in that glorious city.
July 17. The night before I'd been forcefully uprooted and shoved onto a Southbound plane.
That night remained crisp in my memory, as if it were yesterday. It was as if the silky petals of that specific memory had been preserved carefully between the pages of my mind.
Whenever I was home alone (which was a rare occasion in itself), I'd remove that little vial of cologne from the back of his dresser drawer and spray some on the back of my hand.
The tangy scent brought back memories, ones of an extremely specific genre.
Once my eyes fluttered shut and my hand snaked into my already bulging boxers, the torture really began.
I'd always try to replicate the way Ryan made me feel that night, but it never felt quite the same.
I felt slightly guilty about it as well, because we'd never officially broken up.
The image of Ryan and I writhing under the flannel sheets of his bed, the constellation of plum colored bruises the boy had left scattered across my hips and collarbone, how Ryan's plush lips felt pressed against mine...
It had been a wild ride (pun intended) from start to finish. And I would give anything, absolutely anything to have him back.
A/N: Brendon's journal is going to appear every few chapters, it's a recurring element in this book. Also, I can't write smut for my life. Sorry this update was so goddamn late.
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