Kaleidoscope Eyes || Panic! At The Disco

f o r t y - o n e

It probably wasn't kind for me to not visit Brendon, but I was really engrossed in my studies, and Brendon was just annoying.

It was probably better if we had some space.

I'd started to talking to more people in my classes. I'd met up with a few and we had a small band thing going.

It was really cool, actually. We'd called ourselves the Brobecks.

We played mostly covers, but I'd dig out some old songwriting and we'd been working on that.

It was becoming really cool.

We had been having a lot of rehearsals, and I had barely even been thinking of Brendon.

"Alright, let's go from the top again, and remember the changes we made to the bridge." I directed.

Everyone nodded.

I was still awkward about singing, but the rest of the band wanted me to.

They said I was really good at it.

I sucked a breath in before starting. "Gather 'round ye boys and girls..."

It was actually a pretty flawless runthrough.

After the song, we breathed a sigh of relief before cheering.

"You guys rocked!"

"That was the best run through yet!"

I couldn't help but smile.

"Well I've gotta get to work. Sorry guys." Our drummer, Will apologised.

"That's all good, I'll see you around!"

"See you round. Are we still on for Sunday?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, cool." He shoved his drumsticks into his bag and waved us goodbye.

The rest of us began packing up as well.

I was the last to leave, but I had a bass line that I was desperate to try out. I was just afraid it would sound bad.

I just kept trying.

I was probably working on it for too long.

A girl walked into the practise room, and her eyes widened when she saw me.

I must say, I had a similar reaction.

"Hi..."

"Hello..."

"Um..."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No, no, I'm just packing up."

"Oh, okay."

I quickly shoved everything into my guitar case and left the room.

That was a weird situation.

I didn't realise that room was booked after us.

I got something to eat and sat on a bench with my guitar beside me.

***** Brendon's Point of View *****

The doctors were making Mom and I talk to a social worker because apparently I was now 'high risk'.

I didn't know what that was about, but it was clear I wasn't getting out of this.

That didn't impress me.

We were sitting in one of the fancy offices in the hospital, and Mom seemed very nervous as we waited for everyone else to arrive, mostly due to the fact that she kept squeezing my hand.