All Hail The King || Brendon Urie x Reader

VI

Zack dropped you off with nothing more than a soft goodbye and the handing of his card to you. The same card you'd shoved to the depths of your coat pocket.
He doesn't get to just walk back into my life, you scold yourself. A scowl was surely etched on your face.
Sighing, you try to focus on the work in front of you, scribbling down the notes your boss, Eddie, sent you. He wasn't a bad guy. A little hot headed at times, but never truly mean.
Heavy, staggered footsteps make their way down the hall. Not looking up from your paper, you listen as a mug is taken from the cupboard.
"Morning, Dad," you say over your shoulder.
Taking a sip of his coffee — which no doubt was barely warm anymore — he pulls a chair out from the table, the wooden legs scraping quietly as he sits. "Mornin, pumpkin," he replies, quickly scanning the paperwork in front of you. "I see you slept well, huh?"
You roll your eyes. "I got a few hours in. It's not like I'm gonna drop dead ya'know."
"But you can't keep doing this, kid."
Realizing you misspelled a word, you mutter a curse as you scratch it out. "Do what?"
He sighs, loosely tangling his fingers around his mug. The clock in the living room ticks softly. You watch him look out the window in your peripheral vision.
"You're a lot like your mom, you know." Your writing stutters, the curve of the c suddenly sharp. Your dad looks down to his coffee, as if it's a magic eight ball and he was still awaiting his answer. "She used to bury herself with busy work just so she could avoid whatever had her so worked up."
Apparently you couldn't catch a break from anyone. "Thanks, Dad. I'm glad I remind you of the woman who ruined my childhood. Really appreciate that."
Your face twists into a sarcastic smile as you haphazardly pile up your things. He watches idly as you disappear down the hall. You come back out free of your papers, throwing on your jacket.
"Where are you going?" He sounds tired before anything else.
You grab your wallet off the counter. "Out."
He sighs through his nose. "Are we gonna talk about–"
"No," you snap, hastily grabbing your phone from its place on the charger.
His chair slides back — scraping much more loudly this time — as he stands. Just as your fingers touch the door knob, his hand turns you to face him. He pulls you into a loose yet warm hug, his shirt smelling faintly of cedar.
"Be safe, okay?" You let yourself relax, returning the embrace. Pulling away, he smiles, crinkles forming at the edge of his eyes. He steps back.
You open the door, hesitating when he calls your name. "Will you get some more of those little donuts? Looks like they're all gone."
"Yeah," you murmur, face hot. You step out, and the door latches shut behind you.

                          * * * *

"Wait, wait, wait," Macie says astonished. "You went to Brendon's party — the Brendon — Tom managed to 'accidentally' call you while balls deep in some chick, and actually showed up the next morning?"
You nod solemnly, the motion awkward given your chin rests in your right hand. Macie leans back in her chair, her nails clicking on the tabletop. Her narrowed green eyes move across the café.
"What a dick," she says finally, her gaze burning a hole in the wall. Again, you nod.
The front door opens, the bell at the top of the frame chiming gently as the customer walks towards the front counter. Macie shuffles out of the booth.
"Morning, sir. What can I get you?"
A puff of air pushes out your nose — the closest you can come to a laugh — at her customer service voice as she calls it. She's always been able to compartmentalize her emotions and it was, quite frankly, incredible. You couldn't help but be envious of her in that way.
Raising your eyes from the untouched, steaming latte in front of you, you enjoy the quiet you'd been hoping for since the party. It had been two weeks since you'd been last been able to breathe. At least that's what it feels like.
The man waiting for his drink shifts his weight to his left foot, his right heel twisting on the already smudged tile. He shoves his hands into his pockets. Macie offers his now finished drink, giving a smile as he takes it, thanks her, and leaves. She wipes her hands off on her apron.
"Ya'know what I think we need?" She asks, plopping back down in the seat.
You groan. "Nothing that has to do with that wild look in your eye."
"I think," she contiues, not letting your comment slow her down, "we need a girls night. And not your let's sit on the couch and watch Gilmore Girls in our baggiest sweatpants while eating Fritos. I'm talking getting dressed up, fucked up, and having a damn good time."
"May, I don't-"
"Oh c'mon, Y/N! When's the last time you and I went out?"
She leans forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table. You scrunch your nose up. "Three months I think? And we haven't gone since because you put me in heels that's were way to high and I sprained my ankle."
"Okay, so that wasn't ideal." Color rushes to her freckled cheeks. "But I promise it won't happen again!"
"Macie-"
"Just a few hours. Please?"
You shake your head, prompting her to stick out her lower lip, activating full puppy dog eyes. You roll your eyes, shoulders dropping.
"Fine-" Macie cheers excitedly, shacking the table in the process "-but if you try to give me Hennessy, I will throttle you."
She snorts, waving you off. "No worries there. That shit makes me a bitch. I won't subjugate you to that."
That gets you to laugh. The last time she drank that, she managed to get into a hissy fit with another girl. All because they'd bumped and Macie spilled her shot down the front of her shirt. From there on out, Hennessy was a no-go.
"But I will be picking your outfit for tonight," she adds, smiling devilishly.
"Woah! Tonight?!" You needed at least twenty four hours to get yourself together — mentally if nothing else. You scramble for an excuse. "I can't! I've got, uh, work! In the morning! Eddie'll be pissed if I-"
"Oh hush, you liar. I know you have Saturdays off," she counters easily, quietly muttering, "lucky bitch."
You sink into the cheap leather. "Does it have to be tonight?"
"Yes!" Another ding from the front door, two teens walking in, wide smiles on their faces. Macie scoots out of the booth, voice dropping from the loud tone it had been, "Otherwise you'll just keep coming up with excuses. Gotta face the music sometime, chick, and I know you."
"No you don't," you joke, barely able to hide your smile. "I could have dark secrets that no one knows about."
May rolls her eyes. "Oh please, I've seen you throw up in the sink. You don't phase me anymore."
"That was one time!"
You know she hears you, and you also know she's ignoring you as she walks behind the counter. You frown at your latte.
That wasn't even my fault, you pout silently. She was the one who ordered that pizza from the literal shittiest place in town.
You sigh, fingernails picking at themselves as you start running through a mental check of your wardrobe, knowing damn well nothing you had would satisfy Macie's demands.