A Hotter Touch, A Better F... Than Any Girl You'll Ever Meet

Chapter 27

I don't think a lot of notable things happened during the fall.

In the beginning of September we were called in to make another music video. It hit up pretty well on TRL and shit, so I guess that's all good.

In the middle of September we went back on tour, Europe this time, though, and in the middle of October I got a phone call from June, whose scans had finally been able to tell us the gender of the child. We were having a daughter. And I couldn't be happier. Yet there was an aspect of that conversation I was keeping from Brendon. Now don't get pissed at me, I simply wanted to keep it as a surprise. I'd used my conniving ways one last time and convinced June that even if my daughter wasn't going to have a mother, she should at least get her name to just have a bit of her. The first name of the girl wasn't settled yet, but the last name would be Urie-Ross. Who cares if she really got the first part from June? It was Brendon's name, that's really all that mattered.

In early November we went back to the studio to record the new album and we returned to Las Vegas on December 20th.

Here I was called in for psychological evaluation to see if I was fit for sole custody. And on December 23rd of all days I went.

******

I was sitting nervously in my seat, fiddling with my hands as I occasionally glanced at the shrink who was going through his papers.

He was a middle-aged man, quite nice-looking really, but then I think that's part of the job description in his field of work, so honestly it didn't soothe me.

"So... George?" he finally looked up, sending me a nice smile through thin-rimmed glasses.

"Ryan," I corrected habitually. "Hey."

"Hello," he answered. "And you can just call me Ed."

I nodded, still very unsure about the situation. I hated being evaluated.

"So, Ryan. Well, let's just dive right into this." He paused. "What is your view on a good parent?"

I shrugged a bit. "Someone accepting who'll love you no matter who you are and what you do." I bit my lip. "Actually, to me those are the essential things."

He nodded, not letting his reaction to my response shine through his exterior, which kind of worried me. "Several of your family doctors throughout your childhood have reported suspicions of physical abuse, which you've always, according to your records, denied. I need the truth, Ryan."

"Yeah, my father used to hit me," I admitted, looking down a bit as my hands closed around the edge of the table.

"How do you feel about that?"

See, this is why I dislike shrinks! Always that same fucking question. "It still hurts," I admitted, deciding that honesty was probably the best policy. If I lied and the guy realized I was doing that, it wouldn't look to good on the evaluation. "And I'll probably never get over it a hundred percent. I've come a long way, though, and what I DO know is that I'll never be capable of laying a hand on my own child."

Again he nodded. "That's... good, I suppose." He then sent me an apprehensive look. "There was an incident seven months back," he stated. "To put it bluntly, you OD'd. I need to know if you're stable enough mentally to raise a child."

"I took painkillers and Vodka," I told him, biting my lip. I hated that particular memory. "I haven't touched medicine or alcohol since and I doubt I ever will unless absolutely neccesary." I looked up and met his eyes, making sure to communicate my seriousness. "That last part only applied to the medicine, though," I added with an awkward smile.