The Young and Lost Club

My high heels clicked loudly as I hurried down the back ally to the back door of Angels and Kings. I was late. Panting slightly, I smiled at the bouncer, “Hi, I’m…”
“Miss Abrams, down the hall to the left, you’ll be on the side of the stage,” he said, opening the door for me. That was one of the weirdest things about becoming famous in parts of town like this, no longer needing to introduce yourself. I was still having trouble adjusting to that. I followed the bouncer’s directions, nearly skidding into none other than Spencer Smith and Pete Wentz, standing to the side of the makeshift stage.
“You’re late,” Pete said, frowning down at me.
“Bite me, Wentz. I can’t help my plane was delayed,” I hissed at him.
He grinned at me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head.
I turned to Spencer, giving him a hug as well. “How much have I missed?” I asked him when he let me go.
“Only two songs, don’t worry,” he said smiling at me.
I turned my attention towards the stage, feeling silly that even to this day, laying eyes on him after weeks apart could make my heart feel like skipping a beat and make me feel lightheaded and giddy.
I was feeling happy in general, coming home to New York did that to me. Everything felt electrified and intense in a most wonderful way. I hadn’t ever really thought of New York as my home, per se, but after months on the road, and travelling here and there for most of the past two years made me realize that this was where I belonged.
“Sing it Brenny!” Pete shrieked from beside me. I laughed, as Brendon looked over at us, and spotting me, his grin grew, and without breaking the song, blew me a slight kiss.
I adored watching him sing. He didn’t just sing, never just spat out the words with casual indifference, but rather, each song was a story, and he was the storyteller. Then again, Brendon never just sang (or said) anything without 100% conviction. I smiled again, leaning slightly against Spencer, enjoying the show. The fans were going crazy, girls were screaming that they loved him, and Brendon kept shooting me apologetic looks, but I didn’t mind. I never had. His fans always made me realize just how special he was.
Brendon was halfway through his new song, New Perspective, his pride and joy, his baby, his words, his music, when suddenly Pete, no longer able to contain his silliness, broke rank and ran onstage to sexually assault him. Spencer and I dissolved into laughter as Pete pretended to give him a blow job, and Brendon, barely able to control his laughter played along. I had actually gotten kind of mad when Brendon played it for me the first time. Obviously a song about getting a blow job, I told him that his fans were going to assume it was about me, and in response he had just sent me a wicked little grin and winked. The fact that he now said it was about a dream about Megan Fox amused me even less, but I let it slide. She was pretty hot. Nevertheless, I did like the song, and even more so, I loved that Brendon had written it himself when he didn’t think he’d be able to do it without Ryan.
“Thanks Pete,” he said, laughing slightly as Pete darted back beside me.
Pete gave him a thumbs up and threw an arm around me. “Hope you don’t mind,” he said nonchalantly. “But I’m going to fuck your boyfriend later tonight.”
“Nah,” I said with a shrug. “Swingers forever, right? I’ll just call up your wife and plan us a date night.”
“Hot.” Pete said, with a laugh.
Brendon glanced over at our trio once more, and catching my eye, gave me a sweet smile, bashful almost, and a wink.
Which I, of course, retaliated by sticking out my tongue at him, making him grin wider.
Some things would never change.
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It hadn’t been easy, Brendon and I. Even after our talk that day on the bus back on out tour together, it hadn’t been smooth sailing. We argued, we screamed at each other, we made each other miserable with jealousy and our own insecurities, but this time it was different. We were committed to figuring this out, to making it work, and that made all the difference. It took a long time, about six months for him to trust that I wasn’t going to run off again, and it took me probably twice as long to trust that he wouldn’t cheat on me again.
But then, here we were today. Maybe not perfect, still arguing, still insecure, but less so, and we were happy. We were both finally happy, and that’s all that really mattered.
|||

Brendon finished his set, waving goodbye to the small crowd of spectators, handed his guitar to the tech, and walked over to us. Pete, who had been drinking for a while now, before I even got there, was being silly, and leaped onto Brendon, kissing the top of his head and screeching on and on about how he loved Brendon and all.
“Love you too, Pete,” He said with a broad grin. “I’m going to go clean up real quick, alright?” He walked over to me, and took my hand, “Come with?” he murmured, and I nodded in agreement.
“Meet us at the VIP Table!” Pete said, grabbing Spencer’s arm and heading off towards the roped off section. I was almost surprised at Pete’s maturity for not making some sort of joke about Brendon and I, when (as if reading my mind), he spun around, “NO LOVE WITHOUT THE GLOVE!”
“Fuck off!” we both yelled back, but still laughing. Pete only made an obscene gesture and then skipped off.
Brendon and I both rolled our eyes, and then without speaking headed off to the backstage room. As soon as the door was shut, instantly muting the noise from the loud bar, Brendon spun me around to face him, my back pressed up against the door, his hands on my hips. “You came,” he said happily, bending down to kiss me.
“Of course. You were amazing,” I said simply.
He shrugged, always downplaying his talent. He moved his hand up to my hair, playing with the end of it. “I missed you so much,” he said, kissing me again, and then wrapping me into a huge hug.
“I was only gone for two weeks!” I said with a laugh, as he nuzzled his nose into my neck.
“So? You could be gone an hour and I’d miss you.”
“Stalker,” I said, but kissed his neck, enjoying the fact that (still, even after all this time) he shivered slightly under my touch.
“You like it.” He said, pulling apart from me a little bit so we could look at one another.
“I missed you too,” I admitted, and he beamed at me.
“How’s Ryan?” He said it offhandedly, but there was still a slight bitterness to his words. He couldn’t help it, I knew that. The split was amicable, as they kept telling the press, but there had been day or two there when things were touch and go: Ryan was being childish, Brendon was hurt, Jon picked a side, and so did Spencer, and that was that. Brendon and Ryan still didn’t speak much, but there was hope for the future.
When the lines were being drawn, I made an effort to stay neutral, much like Ryan had when Brendon and I were not together. I loved both of them, I wanted them both to be happy, so I wasn’t picking sides, and I made that clear to them. And so far, it was working.
“Ryan’s fine,” I assured him. “He made me sing, but it’s going to be a really good album despite that.”
“Fucker,” Brendon said teasingly. “So, you just hung out with Ryan and Jon? Helped record and stuff?”
“Yeah, basically,” I said. “Got to meet Alex Greenwald, that was fun. Oh, and of course the guys flew in for our shoot for Rolling Stone…”
“What?!” Brendon yelped. “Rolling Stone?”
“Yeah,” I said trying to sound casual, adjusting Brendon’s tie. “They named us ‘Band of the Year’ and stuff, so we had an interview and a photo shoot.”
“Clark, that’s amazing!” He said happily, giving me another huge hug and kissing the top of my head. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks,” I said, blushing a bit. “It’s still surreal, you know? I can’t believe we went from being a bunch of nobodies to Rolling Stone’s Band of the Year. It’s insane.”
“Not really,” Brendon said. “You all are amazing and talented. It was only a matter of time.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just stood on tip-toe to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms firmly around my waist, pushing me harder against the door as the kiss turned into something more aggressive. “I missed you,” he said again, when we broke away.
“I missed you.” I said.
His pocket suddenly vibrated, and he sighed, pulling away from me, so he could dig out his phone. He frowned at the screen. “Pete’s getting restless,” he commented, sliding the phone back into his back pocket.
“Of course he is,” I said, stifling a yawn.
It didn’t fool Brendon. “Are you tired?” He asked immediately. “Do you want to go back to the apartment and sleep? We don’t have to hang out with them...”
“No,” I insisted. “It’s just the jet lag, I’ll be fine. I want to meet Dallon and Ian before you leave tomorrow.”
“Okay, but we’ll leave whenever you want. I want to spend time with you too,” he said, reaching over to grab his jacket off a chair and shrugging it on.

|||
It was such a fun night. It was fun to get to hang out with all these people important to Brendon’s life. It was amazing to meet the members of Blink 182, to meet the two people playing for Panic: Dallon and Ian (the former of which I was a huge because of his band The Brobecks) and of course random crew members that were hanging out as well.
We were all drinking, joking around, and the people I never met before accepted me almost simply because they liked Brendon, and they like The Comeback Kids.
“Fuck,” Mark Hoppus (THE Mark Hoppus…I never got over hanging out with idols) said, slamming down his glass. “For someone so tiny, you sure can hold your liquor.”
I laughed, “Just one of my talents.”
Mark laughed and then pointed at me, “You marry this chick, Urie, or I will.”
Brendon just laughed and pulled me closer to him, kissing the top of my head.
“Please,” Pete said. “He’s going to knock her up, and then he’ll have to marry her.”
“No that’s your forte, Pete,” I said, innocently, causing everyone at the table to burst out laughing.
“I’m buying you a drink for that one, cause I’m a good sport, and because I can’t hit a girl,” Pete said, waving for a bartender to come over.
But my jet lag was catching up with me, as were the past couple late nights with Ryan and Jon, and it felt like no time at all before Brendon was insisting I go get sleep as I was nodding off against his shoulder. So we said goodnight to everyone and went out to catch a cab.
|||
“Lark,” Brendon cooed, nudging me slightly. “Come on, we’re home, kid.”
I opened an eye, realizing I had fallen asleep in the cab.
“Hi sleepyhead,” He said with a laugh. “Come on,” he held out his hand and helped me out of the cab and up to the fourth floor.
I yawned, trying to wake myself up even more as Brendon fumbled with the keys in his pocket before choosing the right one and letting us into the apartment. I had only been here for about 10 seconds, my bags were thrown next to front door, because I was in a rush to get to Angels and Kings to see Brendon. Brendon had been here earlier too, but his bag was in the bedroom. He was busy taking off his jacket, looking adorable as he struggled with the buttons. “Drunky,” I teased, walking over to him and doing it for him. And then I kissed him on the neck as I yanked off his tie and started to unbutton his shirt. We were slowly making our way to the bedroom, he was unzipping my dress, and I was busy trying to undo his belt buckle (while walking-it was very difficult). “You sure you don’t want to sleep?” He said pulling away for a moment from our frantic kissing, sounding like he didn’t care, but he obviously didn’t want to stop.
“Are you crazy? I get one night with you, I’m not going to waste it sleeping.” I scoffed.
“Well then, if you insist,” he said, smirking slightly, kissing my neck, and slowly pulling down my bra strap.
“I do,” I said, and pulled him into bed with me.
|||

Later, we were both laying under the covers, just cuddling and talking, when Brendon just said out of the blue, “You know, I really miss your old apartment. I mean this one is nice and all, but I liked where the other one was and everything.”
I sighed. “Yeah,” I agreed. “I miss it too. But I couldn’t afford to not work and still pay for it. Besides, we aren’t here all that much, we’re usually in L.A.”
“I know,” he said. “I think when we get married though, we should get an apartment in the same area where you’re old one was, don’t you? But keep the one in L.A. though.”
“When we get married?” I questioned, sitting up slightly.
He flushed, like he hadn’t meant to say that. “Well,” he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, I mean, someday…don’t you? Not now, obviously, it’s not the right time…but, I mean...”
I decided to end his misery. “You know the only person I’d consider marrying would be you Brendon.”
“Yeah?” He looked sheepish.
“Of course,” I said. “I knew that since the first time I told you I loved you.”
He smiled. “You’re the only person I’d want to marry too,” he said. He perked up suddenly, his face lighting up with excitement. “That reminds me, I got something for you!” He got up out of bed and started rummaging around in his bags.
“You got me a present?”
“Just a little something,” he said. “Aha!” he held up a small black box, and then climbed back into bed handing it to me.
I quirked an eyebrow at him and then opened it, to reveal a gorgeous silver ring with a black-blue stone. “Just a little something?” I said incredulously. “Brendon it’s…it’s beautiful.”
He beamed at me, taking it from me and putting it on my hand. “I saw it an antique store Dallon and I went to. It reminded me of you.”
I didn’t really wear jewelry, but Brendon was right, it did look like me, different, a little dark, and unique. “I love it.” I said, giving him a kiss. “I love it and I love you.”
“Love you too,” he said, smiling at me, and I knew that I would never want to be with anyone else and that he felt the same way about me.
And here we were today. Maybe not perfect, put pretty damn close.
.