Skinny Love

Brendon smiles

We're finishing up group therapy. There's one last person that needs to talk. She's new here and I didn't pay attention to what she said her name was. "I'm sick of being the person people look at and compare their bodies to to make themselves feel better. So I stopped eating, and I'm afraid that if I eat I'll gain all the weight back that I lost, and I can't just try to eat healthy and workout more because that doesn't work, and I'm sick of having to watch what I eat to lose weight while all my friends eat whatever they want and are twigs," she says.

Wow, that's deep. Those are like my everyday thoughts. Can she read my mind or something. That's partially the reason I have panic attacks every time I eat.

The girl finishes talking and we're released back to our units. It's almost visiting hour so I sit in the dayroom and wait for Dallon to get here. "Look who's out of their closet. Oops I meant room," Richie teases me. I roll my eyes and look away from him. "I was talking to you faggot! What are you waiting for your boyfriend to get here?" He asks. I say nothing and keep my eyes away from him. If I don't let him get to me, he'll leave me alone.

"You're not gonna see your boyfriend today faggot. I'll make sure of it." Just ignore him and he'll stop. He punches me across the face. I fall to the floor. The other guys crowd around me. Richie kicks me first. In the ribs, my stomach, my back. I try to protect myself from their kicks. Out of the corner of my eye I see some staff coming into the room right as Someone kicks me in the back of my head causing everything to go black.

Dallon's POV:

I walk past an ambulance on my way into the building. That scares me. Every time I see an ambulance I think about when Brendon almost died in my bed. What scares me even more is wondering why there's an ambulance here. Did someone almost die? Did someone refuse to eat and now have to go to the hospital? I try not to think too much about it. I'm here to see Brendon. Brendon should be my number one priority not thinking about the person that has to go to the hospital.

I walk up to the front desk to check in. I tell the lady who I'm here to see. "Brendon Urie isn't able to have visitors right now." Okay now I'm scared again. "Why not?" I ask. "I can't tell you. That's HIPAA," says the lady. "Is he the reason the ambulance is here?" I ask nervously. "I cannot tell you," she says more sternly. "Fine don't tell me." I'll just go find out myself.

I leave the building. The ambulance has already left. I call Grace from my car. It goes to voicemail. I start up my car and drive to the nearest hospital. I park my car in the parking lot and run into the hospital. I stop at the front desk. "I'm here to see Brendon Urie," I tell the woman at the desk. She's probably searching to see if he's a patient here. "What's your relation to him?" She asks. Oh god he is here. Why is he here? "I'm his boyfriend." "You need to be approved for visit by either him or his paren-" "Dallon is that you?" Brendon's mom asks as she walks into the hospital. "Yeah," I say looking at her. I turn back around and tell the woman that this is his mother. She checks us in and we head to the waiting room. "Do you know what happened to him?" I ask Grace, "has he not been eating." She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "He got beat up by some of the boys on his unit," she says as her voice cracks from probably being on the verge of tears.

Well that doesn't make me feel any better. "Sometimes I wish he wasn't gay. Maybe then people wouldn't always try to beat him up and then maybe he wouldn't have starved himself," she cries. Okay now I'm mad. "Brendon is not to blame for this! It's the other kids! There's something wrong with them! Him being gay does not mean he will get beat up! I was never beat up in school for my sexuality so don't ever say that's the reason he gets beat up and starves himself. Maybe you should have payed attention to him better when he was growing up," I go off.

"What is that supposed to mean!" "Nothing. I'm sorry. It's not your fault," I shouldn't have gone that far. "Then why did you-" "Brendon Urie?" A nurse calls out. We both stand up and and walk over to the Nurse. "Are you his mother?" "Yes," she tells him. "And you are?" He asks me. "His boyfriend," I say. "Oh. Well ma'am your son has two broken ribs, a concussion, and a fair amount of bruising." I hear him say something under his breath. It was probably something homophobic. He's been giving off that vibe ever since I told him I was Brendon's boyfriend. "What was that?" Grace asks. "Oh it wasn't important." Sure it wasn't. The nurse takes us to see him.

I walk into the room behind Brendon's mom. "Dal!" Brendon says happily. "Are you okay?" I ask still a bit worried. Because of his black eye. "Yeah! I'm out of that facility!" "Well for now you are," I tell him. "This is probably the best vacation I've ever been on," Brendon says. "You must really hate it in there," I assume. "Uh yeah. I miss hanging out with you. One hour visits everyday aren't as fun," He says. "Well I'm glad you're in a good mood. We were worried about you." Brendon's mom nods her head. "You don't need to be worried. I'm great," Brendon says. "How hard did they hit your head?" His mom asks. "Really mom? I don't need to be kicked in the head to be happy. Actually I'm probably happy because I've actually been eating. Oh and guess what?" "What?" Me and Brendon's mom ask at the same time. "I'm almost fully weight restored," he says. Me and Brendon's mom both say things along the line of good job or we're so proud of you.

After a while Brendon's mom says she's gonna go get us some dinner. I pull my chair up next to Brendon's bed. "You know this reminds me of the first day we met," I say. "How?" Brendon asks. "Because when I first met you you had a black eye," I tell him. "Oh my god I was so embarrassed. I thought you were looking at me because you liked me and then I found out you were looking at my eye," he says. "I was looking at you because I liked you. I was thinking someone as cute as you doesn't deserve to get beat up." Brendon blushes, "so you used my black eye as an excuse to give me your number?" "That and I was worried," I say, "you always acted so tough like nothing is wrong with you, you didn't need or want help so I wanted to figure out why you were in out patient therapy. I guess I was too late though." "You weren't too late. You were there just in time to save me," he says. This time I blush. "I love you," I say. "I love you too," he says smiling. I miss seeing his smile.