New Aged Emo Imagines and Preferences (DISCONTINUED)

Mute (Brendon Urie)

I sit alone, as always under this willow tree at the park near my house. I have my headphones in, listening to Green Day. I scratch my pencil over the sketchbook in my hands. I see a shadow come over me and I look up, instinctively grabbing for something. I see a bright smile, squinting eyes surrounded by black glasses, and a mess of dark brown hair. He's wearing a jean jacket over a black t shirt, and a pair of black skinny jeans. I frown, clutching my water bottle, my heart pumping. I take out one earbud.

"Hello. Umm, I don't really know how to say this without sounding weird, but I saw you when I was walking my dog a little bit ago, and you looked lonely, and I took my dog home and kind of ran back here to see if you were still here and you are, and I was actually over sitting on a bench for about 10 minutes before I worked up the courage to come over." He rambles quickly. I bite my lip, nervous before standing up, and gathering my things. "Wait, no, I'm- I'm sorry! It's just," I shove my sketch book, pencil case, and water bottle in my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. As I shove past him, he continues to stammer. "I just wanted to say that I think you're beautiful." I freeze, turning back to glare. "Why aren't you saying anything?" I turn around and begin to angrily sign at him.

"I'm mute, asshole. Not that you actually care." After I finish, I turn back around.

"Are you deaf? I'm sorry, wait, can I please talk to you?" He says without thinking. "Wait, she can't-" I turn around and stomp back toward him. I rip out my other headphone. I hold a hand over my mouth, my eyes sharp. "Umm, wait, you can't speak? You're mute? Oh shit, sorry." He mutters. I grab my notebook out of my bag and grab the pen in it.

What do you want, fuck boy?

I scribble down. He reads it.

"I-I'm not a fuck boy. I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I just wanted to- never mind. It's stupid now." He goes to walk away but I grab his arm, writing in the book again.

You wanted to what?

"It's stupid."

Tell me, or I will leave and never come back.

He laughs.

"I just, I wanted to ask you out." He mumbles. I raise an eyebrow. "See, it's stupid. With how pretty you are, you probably have a boyfriend. I'm sorry, I'll just-" he goes to walk away but I grab his arm again. I nod. "What? Yes what?" I write down in my notebook. "You'll go on a date with me? One date?" He reads, phrasing my words as a question. He smiles wide. "Okay. Deal. Follow me." I don't move and he turns back to me after walking away a few feet. I write down a few more things.

If you turn out to be creepy, weird, or a rapist, I swear, you'll be knocked out and you'll never see me again.

He laughs again.

"Fair enough."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm Brendon by the way." He says suddenly. I look up from the diner menu. Nodding, I grab my notebook.

(Y/N).

"Hm. I wouldn't peg you for a(n) (Y/N). More of a, Charlotte." He teases.

I would peg you for a fuck boy, but you apparently aren't. I'm still gonna call bullshit on that btw.

"I don't see why everyone calls me a fuck boy. I'm not." He complains jokingly.

Fine, does emo boy work just fine, last name?

"Last name? Oh, mine's Urie. And okay, I guess. Emo Boy is better than fuck boy. Anyway, Charlotte," He says in a teasing voice, "Is there something that caused this muteness, or were you born with it?" I bite my lip, thinking of whether I should lie or tell the truth. I write down the truth, turning the book toward him.

Selective muteness. That's what the doctor says anyway. It relates to my anxiety, and I am literally incapable of talking to someone without knowing them for many many months.

He nods along to my writing.

"So it's sort of like, if you don't know them too well, you can't talk?" I nod. "I'll just have to hang around you more often then." I blush, my heart rate pumping. I scribble a quick, why would I want that? On the page. He reads it. "Because I think I'm the first person to speak to you in a while, seeing as you looked terrified when I walked up to you before, and how quickly you wanted to run off." I shrug. "So would you be open to hanging out more? Because I'm liking speaking to you." I roll my eyes, letting out a silent laugh. "Okay, well, I like talking to you, and I like you writing to me."

Whatever.

He reads my writing. The waitress comes up to the table.

"Hello, lovelies. What can I get you to eat this afternoon?" I flip to a blank page in my notebook and write my order as Brendon says his. I point at the notebook when she looks at me expectantly. "Ah yes, I forgot. One of the other waitresses told me about you. The cute mute. Let me just read that." I bite my lip, looking away. She must be new. She picks up the notebook and reads off of it. Brendon looks at me in confusion. "Alrighty. The Texas toast for the gentleman and the pancakes for Ms. Cutie." I smile kindly at her. She leaves.

"They know you here?" Brendon asks immediately. I nod, flipping back to the page with our conversation on it. "How?"

My best friend used to work here.

I write awkwardly.

"What do you mean, used to? She quit or something?" I press my lips together, looking away. "Sorry, I won't push. Umm, anyway, what do you for a living? Like, what's your job?"

I help out at a home, teaching sign language to deaf and mute children. It works out well, considering I can't talk to them.

"Yeah, that would work, wouldn't it?"

What about you?

"Me? Oh, I'm a singer. Like for a band."

Anyone I would know?

"Maybe. You know the band Panic! At The Disco?"

They sing that song about doors, whores and weddings, and the other one on the radio all the time. Victorious?

"Yeah, Victorious. And the other one is called I Write Sins Not Tragedies. That would be me singing." My eyes go wide. I mouth wow before smiling. "Yeah, I hate singing I Write Sins, But fans love it. And honestly, I wouldn't be anywhere without fans, so I sing it for them. So you seriously haven't heard of us? Well, me?" I shake my head, moving my fingers in a circular motion, trying to get him to explain. "Oh, well, my other band members left a while ago, but I did gain a few more. Anyway, what music do you listen to if you haven't heard of us?"

Green Day mostly. Some Led Zeppelin. Late 80s pop rock, sort of.

"So classic pop rock." I nod. "Nice. Good to know a pretty girl like you has great music taste." He flirts shamelessly. I blush even more,  looking away again. I roll my eyes and write in my notebook again.

Yeah, as if that's not the most fuck boyish line in the books.

"That's never going to go away is it?" I shake my head. "Then I guess I can embrace it. One second, I'll look up more fuck boy lines." I laugh silently as he giggles.