Brendon Urie - If I See You After the Show

Part 1

The crowd roars deafeningly as the last song of the night finishes. All around me fan girls are screaming, but honestly; can you blame them? Brendon's performance was pretty damn great, and let's face it, so is he. This is the first time I've seen Panic! perform live, and believe me, there's nothing on Earth that can prepare you for the energy of one of their shows. There's always so much happening onstage -and in the crowd too- so there's never a dull moment.
I was supposed to have my best friend, Marina, with me but she had a surprise family emergency, and couldn't go. Not gonna lie, I'm kinda pissed that the second ticket that I bought went to waste, but these things do happen, I guess.
Drink in hand, Brendon makes his way to the front of the stage.
"I'm gonna leave you with this thought," he pauses. "If I see you after the show I'm gonna fuck you."
The roar of horny teenage girls shrieking is ear-piercing, but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't at least a little excited by what he said.
"And I don't care if you want it," he continues, "I more care if you don't want it. 'Cause then, I really want it."
I know it sounds pretty rape-y, but I know Brendon's just being a freak. He would never do anything like that. Besides, a rough, dominant guy who knows what he wants has always turned me on. I love it when men take control and treat me like their bitch, odd as it may seem. And no, it's not because some patriarchal society has taught me to accept it, I just enjoy it.
"I'm gonna watch," the bass player adds.
Brendon walks towards him, "He will watch, and we will make a video of it."
I mean if I screwed Brendon fucking Urie, I would only hope that someone filmed it.
Brendon goes only mingling with the crowd, talking about how jealous he is of a guy with a beard in the audience. I wish that was me. Uh not that I wish I had a beard I- I just mean I wish that Brendon was talking to me.
The band says their 'thank you's' and 'goodbye's,' and at long last, the concert comes to an end. The crowd slowly starts filing out the doors.

• • • • •

I'm sitting on a bench outside the stadium in the cool night air, next to a side entrance of the building. It's mostly just to settle down from all the excitement before I go home, but a little part of me is hoping that what Brendon said would come true. I know, it's really stupid, and I know he probably didn't mean it, but still.
It's about midnight, getting pretty late, so I figure I'll call an Uber. I pull out my phone and open the app, then start- BANG!
I jump in my seat and look up, startled. There in front of me, standing in the now-open door, is Brendon fucking Urie in the flesh. I think I might black out.
"Jesus! You sure know how to make a graceful entrance," I remark, my heart rate still racing from the scare.
"Oh, my bad," he moves his attention to me, "Didn't mean to scare you, doll."
DID HE JUST CALL ME 'DOLL'? EEEEEEEE!
"No, um, it's ok." I manage. "I'm, uh, Willow."
"Lovely name. Urie. Brendon Urie." He extends his hand and I clumsily shake it. "So what are you still doing out here? It's been 20 minutes since the show ended- that is, assuming you were there." He questions me.
"Yeah, yeah I was. I just wanted to rest for a little I guess." And other reasons, I thought.
"So, instead of going home to rest, you choose a cold park bench?" He smirks and raises an eyebrow.
My cheeks turn red. "Well... I guess it turned out well didn't it?" I say, referring to our little meet up.
A slight smile forms on his face. "I guess it did." He chuckles. "There's a bar just down the street. Would you, by any chance, like to have a drink with me?"