Jazz and Liquor ✥Brendon Urie ✥

✥ chapter twenty-eight ✥

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She didn't choose this role
But she'll play it and make it sincere so

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Brendon woke up alone for the first time in two years and didn't realize how devastating it would be until he turned over to the empty space next to him. He'd never felt this lonely before and he grew even lonelier when he realized he was the perpetrator of all this. It was enough to make him drink at eight in the morning. Then he got dressed and went for a walk.

The sun still hadn't broken through the frigid morning air when Brendon left his house. He lit a cigarette and began his stroll down the street.

He wanted to run into her. He wanted to apologize and beg for her forgiveness though he knew she didn't want anything to do with him. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, even if she didn't believe it.

He sat at the bar all night with Pete constantly refilling his whiskey glass. Brendon kept his eyes on the door hoping Tilly would walk in for some ridiculous reason just so he could see her again.

"How are you doin'?" Pete asked, noticing his friend's fixated gaze on the entrance.

"Fine." Brendon sipped on his recently refilled whiskey.

"You don't look fine."

Brendon gave Pete a disdainful glance.

"I'm sorry, I know things didn't go too well the other night," Pete said.

"No shit."

"She's not gonna walk through that door, Brendon."

"Shut up, okay? I know," Brendon snapped. "I don't even know why I'm here."

"Well, getting drunk isn't gonna fix much. You're not singing tonight?"

"Not really up for it," he responded. All of his songs reminded him of Tilly.

Then Angelina and Phillip Carter walked through the door arm in arm. Pete warned Brendon about his temper, especially since he'd had a few drinks.

"Fancy meeting you here," Brendon said to them. "I thought you were banned."

"Brendon..." Pete began.

"I actually need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere quiet?" Angelina asked. The urgency in her voice was slightly concerning.

Brendon led her to his dressing room and closed the door to block out any excess noise. He crossed his arms. "What?"

"I did something bad."

"Like what?"

"First, I just wanna apologize to you and everyone here because this could get out of hand and-"

"Angie, what the hell is going on?"

"I told the LaPialgas you were here and they're coming."

Only the latter part of that statement was a shock. "What do you mean 'they're coming'?"

"I might have told them that you were gonna be here tonight out in the open. They're upset with you for killing one of their leaders and two of their other men, right?"

"How did you-"

"I have my ways, you know that," Angelina interrupted. "I'm not trying to get you killed. This was just the only logical way to get rid of Phillip so you don't get arrested. It will all make sense in the end, I promise."

"Angelina-"

"Just trust me," she said. "Stay somewhere safe and then get out as soon as you can so the cops don't get you, okay?"

Brendon nodded. "Whatever, I guess."

"I'll explain it all later." She wrapped him in a hug and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for my role as despondent girlfriend." Angelina smiled and left the room, urging Brendon to lock it behind her.

After the door was locked, he poured another glass of whiskey, pulled out his gun from his vanity drawer, and waited. He decided he'd leave through the stage door that led to the main busy street when the commotion was over. He didn't know what would become of his bootlegging career since he was more than sure that the police would shut this place down. He prayed to God that he wouldn't be taken into custody.

Brendon's muscles tightened at the sound of gunshots followed by piercing screams. The suppressed memories of Sandburg's resurfaced with each round of the machine gun.

When he was sure it was safe, he left his dressing room and bolted for the stage door exit refusing to look back at the damage to the second speakeasy he's ever loved.

The gun was tucked safely in Brendon's jacket pocket once he made onto the street. There was plenty of commotion to help him transition into normal society without seeming suspicious. His curiosity got the best of him, however, so he walked back toward the entrance to see if he could gauge how much of his club had been ruined.

The police were handcuffing a few men and the coroners carried a round of body bags out of the door. Brendon found himself feeling like this was all his fault but he convinced himself that death was an inevitable part of the business.

Brendon saw Pete in obvious pain and getting medical attention as he surveyed the area. He jumped to the worst conclusions and rushed to his side.

"Jesus Christ, what happened?" Brendon asked as a doctor wrapped his wound in gauze.

"A bullet grazed me. It hurt like hell but at least it didn't go through me, " Pete explained, thanking the doctor for his help. "I'm fine."

"I thought Angelina was gonna tell you."

"She was trying to but then-"

Angelina's screaming and crying interrupted their conversation. Brendon almost forgot that her emotion was all a façade. He left Pete to console her.

"Angie, what's going on?" he asked, catching her before she collapsed to her knees.

"Phillip!" she screamed, holding onto Brendon for support. "They killed Phillip!"

Sure enough, the coroners carried out a body bag that made Angelina scream at the top of her lungs in agony.

Suddenly, her pain didn't feel like an act at all. Her tears were much too large to be fake and the obvious heartbreak in her eyes was contagious. Brendon was only sorry to see Officer Carter go at Angelina's expense. If it were up to him, Carter would've been in a body bag weeks ago.

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Might be the worst chapter I've ever written but who cares. This book is almost over and I'm planning a (very short) sequel just so our frens can get the happy ending and closure they deserve:') thanks for reading