Band Member Oneshots

Hometown Surprise

On the occasion of your hometown gig hosting a Panic! show, you surprise Brendon with a gift that will surely makes him euphoric.

  Where. Are. You?"

Brendon's punctuated statement disguised as an anxious question comes blaring out of your phone just as you're sitting down on the couch in his dressing room and admiring his stage outfit, that is, the famous gold and black blazer, the simple black T-shirt, the leather pants and the sneakers, placed in his crate alongside the left concrete wall.

In silent reply, you smile proudly to yourself, due to your plan of purposely telling him that you might be late to the Panic! show your hometown venue was hosting tonight because of your city's frigid weather and icy roads, so you could keep him on edge all day while you were, in reality, scheming, actually working.

In fact, with it being two and a half hours before your boyfriend was set the hit the stage, Brendon was, pun intended, on the verge of panic and even wondering if you'd make it at all. After all, since you hadn't been able to see each other for months now, even before Christmas and New Year's, you were both hoping that, on the occasion of this hometown gig, you'd finally be able to see each other, even if it was for a very short time, before he would have to leave for New Hampshire the very same night.

But by the looks of it, these hopes wouldn't get realized.

"Brendon," you finally respond in a high sign, feigning chagrin, "There's something I have to tell you." Not giving him any time to ask what that was, you announce it promptly, "I can't make it to the show tonight."

"What?" He shrieks in surprise but more so in frustration, then inquires demandingly, dragging out his words like a child, "Why?" and you can almost hear his pout and are expecting him to stomp his feet, but it doesn't seem to occur.

"The roads are really bad and I don't want to risk hurting my hip, like it happened to my dad," you improvise, even surprising yourself at how easily to lie comes to you, and in that spirit, add for emphasis, "Besides, yesterday, my professor told us he would be giving us a quiz on Monday, so I need all weekend to study. So yeah, I really can't make it."

"That's understandable, even though it sucks." he reasons, then as he fully realizes the extent of your words, scoffs, "Who studies on a Saturday night, anyway?"

"University students, Brendon" you scold, then mentally laugh at how it's not his fault that he's completely in the dark about this.

"But," you prompt, maybe a bit too artificially for him, when silence meets you on the other end of the phone line, save for his breathing, "I'll still be able to visit you in March, when the band is on tour in Germany, just like we discussed!"

"March's in a while (Y/N)" he states dejectedly, coming to terms with the fact that he will probably lose his mind by that time.

"I'm really sorry Bren." you offer as if the situation were real, then console him, "But, March will come really fast." Dismissing him politely, you add "Now, I have to continue studying the effects of e-mail on foreign language learning", then because you're not sure if he's completely correct with the situation, you ask, "We'll talk after the show?"

"Remind me again why I'm attracted to a translator?" He mocks your, according to him, uninteresting curriculum, but before you're warning him with a quick "Watch it, Urie." he replies to your anterior question, stating sincerely, "Of course. I wouldn't miss our after show talks for the world," before dismissing you, "I'm heading to my dressing room now so I'm going to have hang up too", and before the line goes dead, adds a suave, "I'll talk to you later, baby."

Had this situation been real, you probably would have sighed both in relief and adoration.

At the mention of his proximity to the room, butterflies suddenly appear and multiply in your stomach, by the seconds, proof of your excitement of finally being able to see him after all this time, and of witnessing his shock. Unable to settle this anxiousness, you force yourself to remain seated on the couch and alternate between reading Jenny Han's ''P.S. I Still Love You" and complete anti-stress colorings through an app on your phone, though judging by the butterflies, which seem to now multiply by the millions, the latter is not correctly fulfilling its benefits.