The Young and Lost Club
020
“You are a hypocrite!”
“Oh my god Clark, grow up!”
“Me? You grow up! You’re the one that told me…”
“It’s different!”
“No it’s not!”
Max and I were arguing. As usual. And for once, it wasn’t me being the bitch.
“You slept with her and now you want us to join her label? After you told me we weren’t going to get signed because someone wanted to sleep with me? Remind me how this isn’t hypocritical?”
“I wish we had some popcorn, this is getting good,” Brian whispered to Taylor. The two of them were sitting on the couch watching Max and I yell at each other, looking back and forth like they were at a tennis match.
I rounded on them. “And what do you think about all this?”
Taylor shrugged. “I mean, okay, Max, it is hypocritical of you…” Max scoffed and crossed his arms. “But Clark, you should listen, this might really be a good idea.”
“Enlighten me,” I said dryly.
Max rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, I will. Cate Creevie and her brother have been in the music business for years, her brother is a lawyer specializing in Music Law and Cate worked for Capitol Records and helped to start many new musicians. They both got a really large inheritance from their grandfather so they decided to start a new record label and they want us to be on it.”
“What other bands are on there?” I asked.
“Umm…well, it would just be us,” Max admitted.
“Are you kidding me?” I said, almost shouting again. “We got offered Matador Records and you want to be on a label that has no experience-“
“The do have experience!”
“No other bands, nothing? Are you crazy?”
“Clark, Matador wants to be involved! They’ve already tried to convince us to change some of our songs! And also they aren’t offering us half of what the Creevies are!”
“It shouldn’t be about money!”
“It’s not!” Max yelled. “It’s about getting what we want!”
“Look,” Taylor interjected. “It can’t hurt to sit down with them. We’ve agreed from the beginning that we want to have total say on our first album, and Matador just isn’t offering that. If what Max is saying is correct, then isn’t it worth discussing?”
Oh Taylor. The voice of reason. But because I was stubborn, I just sighed dramatically. “I need to think about this. I’ll let you know when I get back.”
“That’s three days from now!” Max exclaimed.
“Well it’s not like they’ll turn us down, we’re the only band!” I snapped back.
“Oh my god, just get out of here.” Brian said, finally speaking up. We all looked at him. “What? The longer she goes without seeing Brendon, the crankier she gets.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
|||
I was on my way to see Brendon.
It was nearly two months since I had last seen him, since we had gotten back from Pete’s party. The four of us had been busy, Pete’s party had opened doors for us, but we weren’t happy with a lot of the offers labels were giving us. We were just picky, I suppose, and we also had constant disagreements about whether or not we should stop trying to find the “exact fit” (because who knew if it existed or not) and just take what was offered to us.
But at the same time, we were all confident in our vision, and in our music, and it was difficult to decide to compromise any of it.
Taylor was right, too. I was becoming more edgy the less I saw of Brendon. I missed him, and phone conversations were not enough, and neither was video chatting (the camera had come to my apartment as a gift from Brendon). So we had planned for me to drive to Haverford for one of their shows and to spend the weekend with them. Max and I had a car back from High School. It was a piece of junk, and cost a fortune to keep in the city, but it was nice to have the option of leaving.
I loved driving, the escaping from the craziness of the city into suburbs and then into country. Plus, I needed the time to digest what Max and I had been arguing about and put it behind me for the time being. The drive was only about two and a half hours long, but because I had stayed at the boys’ apartment longer than I thought, I arrived just as the doors opened for the show that night.
I had never even seen Panic perform before. I felt awful because I was, after all, the lead singers girlfriend, and I had yet to see any of them play an instrument. So maybe I can be excused for not fully understanding just how big of a deal they were.
The theater was absolute chaos.
Fans lined up down the street, with signs, and cameras, and posters, some were even dressed up in appropriate circus themed outfits. They were incredibly loud, screaming and cheering and chanting. I was in total shock. I managed to push my way through to the main doors, which were flanked by two large security guards, who were looking severely annoyed. “Um, excuse me!” I yelled over the crowd. “I’m here to see the band?”
It sounded stupid, even as I said it. The guards probably got this every two minutes, fans trying to get back stage, giggling girls trying to lay their eyes on the skinny Ryan Ross. “Yeah, sure,” the guard on the right said. “Please just get out your ticket and stay in line.”
Internally, I cursed Brendon for thinking naively that I could just skip right on backstage without so much as a pass. “No, I’m Clark Abrams, I’m Brendon Urie’s girlfriend…”
Still they didn’t believe me. Neither did the two teenage girls next to me. They both scoffed and rolled their eyes. “Brendon only likes blonds,” one of them said to her friend. “Who doesn’t know that.”
Oh. My. God.
“Look,” I snapped to the guards. “Call Zack Hall. Or I can,” I shoved my phone to his face. “See?”
The guard narrowed his eyes and then pulled out his walkie-talkie. “Hey Zack? We got a girl out here, claims to know you? Name is Clark Abrams?”
There was a moments pause, and then I heard Zack’s voice. “Short? Black hair? Kind of bossy?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah that’s her let her in,” Zack responded.
“Gee thanks Zack,” I muttered, as the security guard let me pass, and then proceeded to lead me through a door to an empty hallway.
“Sorry about that,” he said to me. “We’ve just got to be careful.”
“It’s not your fault,” I told him. “If anything it’s Brendon’s fault for underestimating how crafty fan girls can be.”
He shot me a grin and then gestured to a door in front of me. “They’re right through here.”
I smiled back and thanked him before opening the door. The sight of the four of them made me smile so hard, my cheeks hurt. “Clark!” With alarming speed, Brendon leaped from his chair and ran to me, tackling me into a bone-crushing hug. “Oh my god I missed you,” He said, kissing every part of my face he could get a hold of.
I laughed, reaching up and taking his face in my hands to stop his frantic kisses and kissed him firmly on the lips. His grip on my hips tightened and he smiled into the kiss. “I missed you more,” I said when he finally released me.
“Lies,” He said with a scoff, but then he burst into a happy grin again.
“Brendon,” Jon whined, and I noticed him standing close by. “Let me hug her, she came here to see me, not you.”
Brendon looked at me, trying to look serious, but his grin still broke through.
“It’s true,” I said seriously, making Brendon grin even wider. “I’m actually here to see Jon.”
He shook his head and wrapped his arms around me even tighter. “Mine.” He said to Jon. “Go find your own.” Jon sulked and Brendon laughed. “Fine. Five minutes.”
“Yes, Dad.” Jon said and then wrapped his arms around me, giving me a large hug. “I missed you, Munchkin!”
I scowled at him. “Thank you so much.”
Ryan was next, removing his lanky form from the couch and giving me a brief hug. He smiled at me. “Good to see you, C.” Ryan was the only person who got away with calling me C.
To my surprise, Spencer also got up and gave me a quick hug and said he was happy to see me. I shot a quick look at Ryan over Spencer’s shoulder, wondering if he understood Spencer’s sudden change in attitude towards me and Ryan mouthed to me “We’ll talk later.”
The opening band went on, but we all decided to not watch, instead sitting down and talking for a while. I loved how despite the fact that we hadn’t seen each other for a while, it felt like nothing had changed (except for Spencer being extremely nice to me), and our conversations were just as smooth and silly as they always had been.
In the middle of Jon’s story about this run in he had with an old woman in Chicago the other week (she thought he was trying to rob her, rather than help her across the street), I glanced over at Brendon. I had noticed that as time had passed, he had gotten less talkative, and now, as I looked over, he was biting his bottom lip, and picking at his nails. I frowned and reached over, silently taking his hand in mine and giving it a squeeze. He immediately snapped out of his reverie and smiled at me.
There was a knock on the door and we all turned to see Zack. “Five minutes, you guys, you should probably head toward the stage.”
“Showtime, bitches!” Jon said, standing up and then chest bumping Ryan, who was caught off guard and stumbled backwards into Spencer’s arms.
“Jon how many times do I have to tell you not to do that?” Ryan snapped.
“Aw, you and your fragile bones,” Jon said, reaching over and pinching his cheek. Ryan slapped him away.
“If I’m bruised again, I’m going to punt you back to Chi City,” Ryan grumbled.
“Please never call Chicago that. Like, ever,” Jon said.
Spencer grabbed his drum sticks and started out the door. “Come on, idiots,” he called over his shoulder. “Let’s not keep the fans waiting.” Jon and Ryan followed him out, still bickering.
I turned to Brendon. “Why the long face, Bren?” I asked, kissing his cheek.
“No long face here,” he said smiling down at me. “Come on.” He took my hand and we started down the hallway towards the stage.
“You just seem distracted.”
“Well…I’m a little nervous…you know, it’s not easy to do your best when a beautiful girl is watching you in the wings.” He said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
“Should I leave?” I joked.
“Maybe.”
“Well too bad, buddy, I’m here for good.” I said, smiling at him. I could hear the fans now, screaming, knowing Panic was about to come out. We were near the stage; Ryan, Spencer and Jon were standing in the wings. I stopped Brendon and I from walking and faced him. “Please don’t be nervous, I’ve heard you sing before…”
“In the shower sometimes,” Brendon interjected.
I shook my head and grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him on the lips. “You are the most amazing person in the world, and I’m not the only one who thinks that, just listen to them screaming out there for you.”
He grinned and I smiled back. “Bren, come on!” Spencer yelled.
“Go get ‘em cowboy,” I said, pushing him towards his band members and spanking his butt.
He turned around and arched an eyebrow suggestively, and then a moment later, he was bounding onstage to uproarious cheers and applause.
|||
I had never seen anything like it.
I was in complete and utter awe of Brendon. Well, of all of them, really, but Brendon…I had known he was special, that he was talented and a fantastic musician, but seeing him onstage, not just singing, but pouring his heart and soul into his performance…it was the most amazing thing I had ever seen.
As I stood there, watching their encore of Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Their Clothes Off I couldn’t help but get all misty eyed over it. Brendon was the most amazing person I’d ever met, and I had the privilege to call him mine.
|||
Much later, after Brendon showered and we had drank some beers and the guys came off their adrenaline high, and they all made fun of me for standing in the wings and crying, and we drove to the nearby hotel, and Brendon and I checked into our room, and we were relaxing on the bed, I tried to express my feelings to Brendon.
“You just…I never even knew you could do that!”
Brendon just laughed lowly, his hand playing with my hair.
“Why haven’t I been at every show?!” I demanded to him, sitting up. “Why didn’t you tell me how awesome you are?!”
Brendon laughed again and sat up as well. “You seem really upset about this.”
“I am! If I knew sooner, I’d have quit my job and been your full time groupie!”
“Aw, shit, I’ve wasted valuable time!” Brendon said mockingly. I frowned and poked him in the stomach. He poked me back. I punched him not so lightly in the chest. “Oh, we’re doing this now?” He laughed, and with that, he grabbed me around the waist and pinned me beneath him on the bed, holding my wrists in one hand over my head and started blowing raspberries on my neck.
“No, no, no!” I squealed, trying to get free. Brendon just laughed into my neck, holding me easily. I finally managed to get a leg free and flip us over so I was on top of his hips. “Yeah, what now?” I teased, placing my hands firmly on his chest.
He laughed again, sitting up and kissing me deeply on the lips. “I want you to meet my parents,” he said softly when we pulled apart.
I almost choked. “What?”
“Well…we’re going to Nevada in two weeks, to work on our new album, and I want you to come for a while, and meet my family.”
“I…uh…I,” I stared at him, dumbfounded.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said, trying to reassure me. “I mean, I’ve told them all about you, and you’re obviously really important to me…I just want you to meet them.”
I swallowed. “I’d love to meet them, Bren,” I said honestly. I couldn’t remember the last time a boy had wanted to introduce me to his family.
His entire face relaxed and he beamed at me. “I’d like to meet yours someday too.”
That time I really did choke.
“I mean, I know you aren’t close with them…”
“How do you know that?” I said weakly.
“You never talk about them. Ever. But I would like to meet them at some point.”
Brendon was so incredibly naïve sometimes. He just assumed that I wasn’t close to them, not that my family was fucked up beyond belief, that if I had my way, Brendon would never even step foot in Maryland. I should have told him then. I should have gotten off his hips and told him the whole situation. But where did I begin? “Well Brendon, you can’t meet my Mom cause she’s dead, and my dad and I haven’t spoken in a year?” Somehow I doubted that would go over so well.
But I should have said something.
But instead I just shrugged. “So when will this…um, meeting taking place?”
Brendon smiled. “I was thinking…tour ends in two weeks, I was thinking we could spend the weekend in New York, then spend the next week in Nevada. My sister is flying in with her husband and kids.”
I hesitated. “I can’t really keep asking for time off from work.”
Brendon gave me a curious look. “You know Riley will give you whatever you want. Besides, why are you even working there? I thought you said you had meetings with labels and stuff.”
I got off his hips at that and laid next to him.
“What?” He said gently. “You got this horrible look on your face.”
Next thing I knew, I was pouring out the whole story; about Max and worrying about picking a label, let alone the right label, about Max sleeping with that girl and now wanting to be on her label despite the fact they didn’t have experience, that I was feeling anxious about the whole process, that in the back of my mind I was thinking it would just be easier to quit here and now.
Brendon laid there, just listening, intently and then, when I was finished he smiled that crooked grin of his, and brushed some of my hair behind my ear. “Clark,” he said, his tone low and loving. “Everything is going to be okay.”
And I believed him.
“Oh my god Clark, grow up!”
“Me? You grow up! You’re the one that told me…”
“It’s different!”
“No it’s not!”
Max and I were arguing. As usual. And for once, it wasn’t me being the bitch.
“You slept with her and now you want us to join her label? After you told me we weren’t going to get signed because someone wanted to sleep with me? Remind me how this isn’t hypocritical?”
“I wish we had some popcorn, this is getting good,” Brian whispered to Taylor. The two of them were sitting on the couch watching Max and I yell at each other, looking back and forth like they were at a tennis match.
I rounded on them. “And what do you think about all this?”
Taylor shrugged. “I mean, okay, Max, it is hypocritical of you…” Max scoffed and crossed his arms. “But Clark, you should listen, this might really be a good idea.”
“Enlighten me,” I said dryly.
Max rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, I will. Cate Creevie and her brother have been in the music business for years, her brother is a lawyer specializing in Music Law and Cate worked for Capitol Records and helped to start many new musicians. They both got a really large inheritance from their grandfather so they decided to start a new record label and they want us to be on it.”
“What other bands are on there?” I asked.
“Umm…well, it would just be us,” Max admitted.
“Are you kidding me?” I said, almost shouting again. “We got offered Matador Records and you want to be on a label that has no experience-“
“The do have experience!”
“No other bands, nothing? Are you crazy?”
“Clark, Matador wants to be involved! They’ve already tried to convince us to change some of our songs! And also they aren’t offering us half of what the Creevies are!”
“It shouldn’t be about money!”
“It’s not!” Max yelled. “It’s about getting what we want!”
“Look,” Taylor interjected. “It can’t hurt to sit down with them. We’ve agreed from the beginning that we want to have total say on our first album, and Matador just isn’t offering that. If what Max is saying is correct, then isn’t it worth discussing?”
Oh Taylor. The voice of reason. But because I was stubborn, I just sighed dramatically. “I need to think about this. I’ll let you know when I get back.”
“That’s three days from now!” Max exclaimed.
“Well it’s not like they’ll turn us down, we’re the only band!” I snapped back.
“Oh my god, just get out of here.” Brian said, finally speaking up. We all looked at him. “What? The longer she goes without seeing Brendon, the crankier she gets.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
|||
I was on my way to see Brendon.
It was nearly two months since I had last seen him, since we had gotten back from Pete’s party. The four of us had been busy, Pete’s party had opened doors for us, but we weren’t happy with a lot of the offers labels were giving us. We were just picky, I suppose, and we also had constant disagreements about whether or not we should stop trying to find the “exact fit” (because who knew if it existed or not) and just take what was offered to us.
But at the same time, we were all confident in our vision, and in our music, and it was difficult to decide to compromise any of it.
Taylor was right, too. I was becoming more edgy the less I saw of Brendon. I missed him, and phone conversations were not enough, and neither was video chatting (the camera had come to my apartment as a gift from Brendon). So we had planned for me to drive to Haverford for one of their shows and to spend the weekend with them. Max and I had a car back from High School. It was a piece of junk, and cost a fortune to keep in the city, but it was nice to have the option of leaving.
I loved driving, the escaping from the craziness of the city into suburbs and then into country. Plus, I needed the time to digest what Max and I had been arguing about and put it behind me for the time being. The drive was only about two and a half hours long, but because I had stayed at the boys’ apartment longer than I thought, I arrived just as the doors opened for the show that night.
I had never even seen Panic perform before. I felt awful because I was, after all, the lead singers girlfriend, and I had yet to see any of them play an instrument. So maybe I can be excused for not fully understanding just how big of a deal they were.
The theater was absolute chaos.
Fans lined up down the street, with signs, and cameras, and posters, some were even dressed up in appropriate circus themed outfits. They were incredibly loud, screaming and cheering and chanting. I was in total shock. I managed to push my way through to the main doors, which were flanked by two large security guards, who were looking severely annoyed. “Um, excuse me!” I yelled over the crowd. “I’m here to see the band?”
It sounded stupid, even as I said it. The guards probably got this every two minutes, fans trying to get back stage, giggling girls trying to lay their eyes on the skinny Ryan Ross. “Yeah, sure,” the guard on the right said. “Please just get out your ticket and stay in line.”
Internally, I cursed Brendon for thinking naively that I could just skip right on backstage without so much as a pass. “No, I’m Clark Abrams, I’m Brendon Urie’s girlfriend…”
Still they didn’t believe me. Neither did the two teenage girls next to me. They both scoffed and rolled their eyes. “Brendon only likes blonds,” one of them said to her friend. “Who doesn’t know that.”
Oh. My. God.
“Look,” I snapped to the guards. “Call Zack Hall. Or I can,” I shoved my phone to his face. “See?”
The guard narrowed his eyes and then pulled out his walkie-talkie. “Hey Zack? We got a girl out here, claims to know you? Name is Clark Abrams?”
There was a moments pause, and then I heard Zack’s voice. “Short? Black hair? Kind of bossy?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah that’s her let her in,” Zack responded.
“Gee thanks Zack,” I muttered, as the security guard let me pass, and then proceeded to lead me through a door to an empty hallway.
“Sorry about that,” he said to me. “We’ve just got to be careful.”
“It’s not your fault,” I told him. “If anything it’s Brendon’s fault for underestimating how crafty fan girls can be.”
He shot me a grin and then gestured to a door in front of me. “They’re right through here.”
I smiled back and thanked him before opening the door. The sight of the four of them made me smile so hard, my cheeks hurt. “Clark!” With alarming speed, Brendon leaped from his chair and ran to me, tackling me into a bone-crushing hug. “Oh my god I missed you,” He said, kissing every part of my face he could get a hold of.
I laughed, reaching up and taking his face in my hands to stop his frantic kisses and kissed him firmly on the lips. His grip on my hips tightened and he smiled into the kiss. “I missed you more,” I said when he finally released me.
“Lies,” He said with a scoff, but then he burst into a happy grin again.
“Brendon,” Jon whined, and I noticed him standing close by. “Let me hug her, she came here to see me, not you.”
Brendon looked at me, trying to look serious, but his grin still broke through.
“It’s true,” I said seriously, making Brendon grin even wider. “I’m actually here to see Jon.”
He shook his head and wrapped his arms around me even tighter. “Mine.” He said to Jon. “Go find your own.” Jon sulked and Brendon laughed. “Fine. Five minutes.”
“Yes, Dad.” Jon said and then wrapped his arms around me, giving me a large hug. “I missed you, Munchkin!”
I scowled at him. “Thank you so much.”
Ryan was next, removing his lanky form from the couch and giving me a brief hug. He smiled at me. “Good to see you, C.” Ryan was the only person who got away with calling me C.
To my surprise, Spencer also got up and gave me a quick hug and said he was happy to see me. I shot a quick look at Ryan over Spencer’s shoulder, wondering if he understood Spencer’s sudden change in attitude towards me and Ryan mouthed to me “We’ll talk later.”
The opening band went on, but we all decided to not watch, instead sitting down and talking for a while. I loved how despite the fact that we hadn’t seen each other for a while, it felt like nothing had changed (except for Spencer being extremely nice to me), and our conversations were just as smooth and silly as they always had been.
In the middle of Jon’s story about this run in he had with an old woman in Chicago the other week (she thought he was trying to rob her, rather than help her across the street), I glanced over at Brendon. I had noticed that as time had passed, he had gotten less talkative, and now, as I looked over, he was biting his bottom lip, and picking at his nails. I frowned and reached over, silently taking his hand in mine and giving it a squeeze. He immediately snapped out of his reverie and smiled at me.
There was a knock on the door and we all turned to see Zack. “Five minutes, you guys, you should probably head toward the stage.”
“Showtime, bitches!” Jon said, standing up and then chest bumping Ryan, who was caught off guard and stumbled backwards into Spencer’s arms.
“Jon how many times do I have to tell you not to do that?” Ryan snapped.
“Aw, you and your fragile bones,” Jon said, reaching over and pinching his cheek. Ryan slapped him away.
“If I’m bruised again, I’m going to punt you back to Chi City,” Ryan grumbled.
“Please never call Chicago that. Like, ever,” Jon said.
Spencer grabbed his drum sticks and started out the door. “Come on, idiots,” he called over his shoulder. “Let’s not keep the fans waiting.” Jon and Ryan followed him out, still bickering.
I turned to Brendon. “Why the long face, Bren?” I asked, kissing his cheek.
“No long face here,” he said smiling down at me. “Come on.” He took my hand and we started down the hallway towards the stage.
“You just seem distracted.”
“Well…I’m a little nervous…you know, it’s not easy to do your best when a beautiful girl is watching you in the wings.” He said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
“Should I leave?” I joked.
“Maybe.”
“Well too bad, buddy, I’m here for good.” I said, smiling at him. I could hear the fans now, screaming, knowing Panic was about to come out. We were near the stage; Ryan, Spencer and Jon were standing in the wings. I stopped Brendon and I from walking and faced him. “Please don’t be nervous, I’ve heard you sing before…”
“In the shower sometimes,” Brendon interjected.
I shook my head and grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him on the lips. “You are the most amazing person in the world, and I’m not the only one who thinks that, just listen to them screaming out there for you.”
He grinned and I smiled back. “Bren, come on!” Spencer yelled.
“Go get ‘em cowboy,” I said, pushing him towards his band members and spanking his butt.
He turned around and arched an eyebrow suggestively, and then a moment later, he was bounding onstage to uproarious cheers and applause.
|||
I had never seen anything like it.
I was in complete and utter awe of Brendon. Well, of all of them, really, but Brendon…I had known he was special, that he was talented and a fantastic musician, but seeing him onstage, not just singing, but pouring his heart and soul into his performance…it was the most amazing thing I had ever seen.
As I stood there, watching their encore of Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Their Clothes Off I couldn’t help but get all misty eyed over it. Brendon was the most amazing person I’d ever met, and I had the privilege to call him mine.
|||
Much later, after Brendon showered and we had drank some beers and the guys came off their adrenaline high, and they all made fun of me for standing in the wings and crying, and we drove to the nearby hotel, and Brendon and I checked into our room, and we were relaxing on the bed, I tried to express my feelings to Brendon.
“You just…I never even knew you could do that!”
Brendon just laughed lowly, his hand playing with my hair.
“Why haven’t I been at every show?!” I demanded to him, sitting up. “Why didn’t you tell me how awesome you are?!”
Brendon laughed again and sat up as well. “You seem really upset about this.”
“I am! If I knew sooner, I’d have quit my job and been your full time groupie!”
“Aw, shit, I’ve wasted valuable time!” Brendon said mockingly. I frowned and poked him in the stomach. He poked me back. I punched him not so lightly in the chest. “Oh, we’re doing this now?” He laughed, and with that, he grabbed me around the waist and pinned me beneath him on the bed, holding my wrists in one hand over my head and started blowing raspberries on my neck.
“No, no, no!” I squealed, trying to get free. Brendon just laughed into my neck, holding me easily. I finally managed to get a leg free and flip us over so I was on top of his hips. “Yeah, what now?” I teased, placing my hands firmly on his chest.
He laughed again, sitting up and kissing me deeply on the lips. “I want you to meet my parents,” he said softly when we pulled apart.
I almost choked. “What?”
“Well…we’re going to Nevada in two weeks, to work on our new album, and I want you to come for a while, and meet my family.”
“I…uh…I,” I stared at him, dumbfounded.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said, trying to reassure me. “I mean, I’ve told them all about you, and you’re obviously really important to me…I just want you to meet them.”
I swallowed. “I’d love to meet them, Bren,” I said honestly. I couldn’t remember the last time a boy had wanted to introduce me to his family.
His entire face relaxed and he beamed at me. “I’d like to meet yours someday too.”
That time I really did choke.
“I mean, I know you aren’t close with them…”
“How do you know that?” I said weakly.
“You never talk about them. Ever. But I would like to meet them at some point.”
Brendon was so incredibly naïve sometimes. He just assumed that I wasn’t close to them, not that my family was fucked up beyond belief, that if I had my way, Brendon would never even step foot in Maryland. I should have told him then. I should have gotten off his hips and told him the whole situation. But where did I begin? “Well Brendon, you can’t meet my Mom cause she’s dead, and my dad and I haven’t spoken in a year?” Somehow I doubted that would go over so well.
But I should have said something.
But instead I just shrugged. “So when will this…um, meeting taking place?”
Brendon smiled. “I was thinking…tour ends in two weeks, I was thinking we could spend the weekend in New York, then spend the next week in Nevada. My sister is flying in with her husband and kids.”
I hesitated. “I can’t really keep asking for time off from work.”
Brendon gave me a curious look. “You know Riley will give you whatever you want. Besides, why are you even working there? I thought you said you had meetings with labels and stuff.”
I got off his hips at that and laid next to him.
“What?” He said gently. “You got this horrible look on your face.”
Next thing I knew, I was pouring out the whole story; about Max and worrying about picking a label, let alone the right label, about Max sleeping with that girl and now wanting to be on her label despite the fact they didn’t have experience, that I was feeling anxious about the whole process, that in the back of my mind I was thinking it would just be easier to quit here and now.
Brendon laid there, just listening, intently and then, when I was finished he smiled that crooked grin of his, and brushed some of my hair behind my ear. “Clark,” he said, his tone low and loving. “Everything is going to be okay.”
And I believed him.
♠ ♠ ♠
Dear lord I hate this update. Sorry.This is for the ever lovely Emily (aka patheticmind) who's birthday was last week. She's fantabulous and you should totally read all of her stories.
The next update is almost done, as is the one after that, so if I get (coughlotscough) comments I'll have them out asap.
Also, I have an Alex Gaskarth story I'm working on kind of on the side. I don't know how long until it comes out, but I really like the plot I've got so far.
I love you all so much.
Thank you for sticking with me for 21 chapters. You make me feel so special :)