The year is 1926 and Brendon Urie is struggling to live up to the demands of his wife. To escape the stress, he sings at a jazz club downtown with his band, Panic! At the Disco and they gain popularity extremely fast.
Brendon then finds it challeng...
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Share one more drink with me Smile even though you're sad
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June welcomed Brendon home with a hug which was strange considering she hadn't greeted him like that since they first got married. He didn't question it, however, and hugged his wife back. The moment didn't last long and was interrupted by a shove as soon as June pulled out of the embrace.
"I told you to come home!" she cried, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I'm home now, honey, it's okay," Brendon reasoned, reaching for her hand.
"You could've died in there. People were rushing up and down these halls talking about how terrible it was in that club and everyone came home except for you. I was worried sick."
"Well I'm here now, baby, and I'm not dead. I just had to help some people get home safe. Sorry for worrying you." He kissed June's forehead.
"So are you done with the band and the clubbing and the singing now? I would hope so after that episode." June turned out the lights in the living room and made her way into the bedroom.
Brendon rubbed the back of his neck as he followed her trail. "Not quite," he responded hesitantly.
"Not quite?" June repeated.
"Or I don't want to be at least," he added, taking his suit jacket off.
"What does that even mean?"
"I wanna keep singing with my band, June. I don't wanna quit just because our club got shot up. We can find a different venue, it's not that hard," Brendon argued, untying his tie and undoing his dress shirt. "I love music, honey, and I wanna keep pursuing it."
June let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. "You can't be serious."
"What's so funny about that?" Brendon asked.
"You need to be pursuing more important things like, I don't know, my house," June suggested, turning back the comforters of the bed.
Brendon held his breath and stripped down to sleeping clothes. "That's not the only thing that matters," he muttered under his breath.
"Excuse me?"
He shook his head and got under the covers with June. "Nothing. I'm just tired." He turned off the lamp on his side of the bed and closed his eyes, hoping he could forget about everything for a few hours.
Flashbacks from the shooting harassed his dreams and kept him from getting a decent night's sleep. He found himself wide awake, hoping that Henry didn't go too hard on Tilly tonight and wishing he could relive the walk to her house twenty times. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he remembered the chaste but tender kiss Tilly had given him on the cheek. He desperately wanted to return the favor and hopefully on the lips.
