Life in Vegas || Brendon Urie

Chapter 36

I left the house quickly that night. Brendon stood in the doorway, asking me once again to wait, and asking what that meant. I just went as far away as I could, hailed a taxi and went to my hotel.

Part of me felt bad for what I said, but there was no lie behind it. I truly had gotten to this point because of Brendon. I left him for David because of his unfaithfulness and his drug habit, and if I had never met him, my life would undoubtedly be different.

Then, my more clear conscience stepped in, and reminded me that if I had never met Brendon, my life would be dull and I wouldn't have ever gotten the chance to be as happy as I was when we were together.

I took a few minutes to call David and check in, to make sure he knew I was okay, and then I went to bed.

The next few days, Brendon didn't show. It was honestly nice. I had a clear head to work with, and work I did. Val and I got the pool plans set up and the plans for the face of the house done. She insisted on waiting to solidify plans for the interior until Brendon could verify that they were okay.

Finally, Friday rolled around. I tried to do some more work, but I really couldn't do anything else without Brendon present, and he seemed to still be moping somewhere. I was beginning to grow impatient.

"Val!" I called from the kitchen. I was wasting time looking at blueprints, even though I already had them memorized.

"What?" She answered, making her way to the kitchen.

"I can't do anything else without the client," I reminded her. "I'm basically wasting time doing nothing."

"You're right," she agreed. "I can't get ahold of him. Go ahead and take off, take the weekend to relax a little. But I'm going to bug him throughout the weekend, so hopefully we can get started on the real fun on Monday."

I nodded. "Okay. See you Monday then."

She wished me a good weekend before disappearing somewhere else. I went to the hotel and let David know I was in for the weekend. He was still persistent in reminding me how unhappy he was that I had left, and still requesting that I come home. I hadn't filled him in on the fact that it really would be a few months before I was even close to done.

I sat at the desk in my room, wondering what I was going to do with the weekend. There was a small bar in the first floor of the hotel, and after this week, a drink sounded like heaven.

I pulled on some casual clothes and went downstairs. The bartender gave me a weird look and carded me, but after verifying that I was in fact old enough to drink, he was very friendly.

"What can I get for you?" He asked.

"Something strong," I replied politely.

He thought for a second. "Well, you're in California...have you every had a beach bomber?"

I shook my head. "Never heard of it."

He smiled. "Give me a second."

The bartender disappeared into the back of the bar and came back out with a few different bottles. After a few minutes of mixing and shaking, he poured a yellow drink out and handed it to me.

I took a small drink. It was fruity and definitely had a little bite to it, but it went down smooth.

The bartender left me to it while he served other connoisseurs. I downed the drink after about five minutes, and he slid me another.

"What's your name sweetheart?" He asked, leaning over the bar and giving me a sneaky smile.

"Kendall," I said. "And yours?"