Air so Cold, Mind so Bitter.

She panted slightly, trying to regain her breath that had been lost from exercise. Her breathing rate was nearly back to normal as she jogged back to her apartment from the gym, legs tingling slightly from the lactic acid rushing around her legs. It was uncomfortable, especially as she was slightly sweaty, wearing a tight white polo shirt and black shorts, a white towel around her neck. She looked fresh out of the gym, which was exactly where she had been. After all, she was in the army, and needed to train, even if she wasn’t in battle. A small vacation was no excuse.

She rubbed at her forehead as an attempt to remove the sweat from it and pull her fringe away, so it didn’t stick to her and make her feel/look even more disgusting. People in business suits passed her on the sidewalk, looking very professional, and staring at her with revulsion, not wanting to touch her. She’d picked a bad time in the morning to work out, it was business hour, so it was one sweaty woman amongst a sea of suited men and women.

A man with dark brown, shaggy hair, a blue button up shirt, black slacks and a brief case passed her. She looked over her shoulder, doing a double take because she had seen a guitar strapped to his back, which was unusual to see, unless they were busking, which by his attire she took he wasn’t. He turned around too, then smiled that trade mark goofy smile.

“Marina!” he shouted, turning on his heels to walk towards her, smile still plastered on his face. She waved a little, not really wanting to talk to anyone in her sweaty state.
“Hey, Brendon,” she greeted. “You’re going to the café that well dressed?”
“Oh, no, I have two jobs. I’m a high school music teacher too, so I have to be a little smarter and not as noir with my clothes. How was the gym?” he asked, one hand clutching at his guitar strap.
“It was good thanks, got a decent amount of work done, but I didn’t realize how out of practice I was,” she laughed.
“Out of practice? Look at you, your body is flawless, I’ve no idea how you could say that,” he half-smiled, his brown eyes smiling too.
She blushed a little and he bit his lip, eyes widening. “Oh my goodness, I just realized how inappropriate that was, we barely know each other, fuck,” he mumbled.
“Brendon,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine, and thank you,”
“Okay, phew,” he laughed. “How have you been since yesterday?”
“Pretty much the same, if I’m honest. And living in a chocolate coma – hence the need for a work out. I pretty much devoured every slice last night, I can’t make things like that last,” smiled Marina, and he laughed again. “How have you been? And how do you have time for two jobs?”
“I’ve been good, a lot of marking to do last night so I’m exhausted but otherwise good. And I’m not sure, when I know, I’ll get back to you on that one,” he smirked. “The money spurs me on, I suppose,”
She nodded, understanding. “Have you always been musical? Or do you just enjoy the teaching side of it?”
“Not always, no, but from the age of four I have,” he smirked. Internally she thought ‘smart ass’, but it suited him in an odd way. “I like seeing kids improve. Satisfying in a way, and I hated school, so I hope to make school that little bit better for them. Give them a teacher they can actually talk to, y’know?”
She knew.
“What about the arm- oh, shit. I have to get going, I’m going to be late, but I’ll see you later, okay? In fact, I’ll call you. I expect you to sit by your phone and wait for me all day,”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Go to school, Brendon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marina had slept nearly all day, because she was trying to stick with her routine of staying up at night, sleeping all day, to make she was used to the timings of Afghanistan. She had showered after the gym, eaten a fresh fruit salad then crashed. Bed had never looked so good.

Until, of course, she was woken by a phone call. Her mobile blared out the standard ‘Nokia’ tone, and no number flashed up, but she pressed green and held it to her ear anyway, tucking it between her skin and the pillow.
“Hello!” said Brendon in an over exaggerated manor.
“Ugh, hi,” she grumbled.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“I was only sleeping, don’t worry. I should be getting up now anyway,”
“Oh. I’m sorry for waking you. But, um, I said I would call, so I this is what I’m doing. And I take it you didn’t wait by the phone for my oh-so-important call,” he laughed and she smiled as he did so, because his laugh was so infectious. She crawled out of bed and set her phone on the desk, turning the volume up so she could hear him from a distance, able to get dressed and presentable whilst talking to him.
“I slept on the job, I’m sorry,” she snickered, pulling off her underwear and swapping it for a fresh pair. She must have been particularly tired, because she usually slept in nothing, so to fall asleep in underwear meant she would have collapsed before taking it off.
“You should be,” he smirked, tucking his legs under himself whilst sat on the couch, cell held to his ear. “So what are you doing?”
“Honestly?”
“Oh God, you’re masturbating aren’t you? Shit, I’ll call back later-”
“Shut up, no I’m not. I’m getting changed, dick,” she smirked too, hooking the clasp of her bra. “I’m pretty much naked whilst we talk, but hey, never mind,”
He wriggled around a bit, feeling a little awkward and so very glad she couldn’t see him, because he was suddenly feeling hot and flustered. He was glad Will couldn’t see him either, because he would be teased so much. He’d been out of action for a painfully long time, and just the thought of another nude woman could get him a little riled up. It didn’t help Marina was beautiful.
“Maybe I should come round,” he joked, squeezing his legs together.
“Sure, let me get dressed and made up first. You know where the water park, is? There’s a big glass building, and to the left is the apartment block. Fifth floor, room 87. Were you being serious, of course,”
She pulled on some light blue jeggins with a peach spaghetti strap, a black waistcoat and a silver necklace with a beaded leaf pendant. She turned down the volume and held it back up to her ear, walking into the bathroom.
“Yeah, uh, sure. I’ll be a few minutes, wait, if I leave now then we can talk whilst I walk!” he exclaimed, as if it was the greatest idea he’d had all week, pulling on a pair of black Vans, shoving his wallet into his back pocket and taking the keys off the hook. He held his cell to his chest.
“Will, I’m going out!” he shouted. “I’ll be back whenever, if you throw a party I’ll kill you!”
“Yeah, yeah,” mumbled Will from another room as Brendon slammed the door shut, it clicking so it locked. “Alright, I’m back on the air, this is Brendon Urie speaking, how may I help you?”
She raised her eyebrows, regretting this immediately as she applied some mascara. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” he laughed. “You’re not used to me yet. I don’t tend to make much sense, that’s probably why I’m lonely,” he joked again, with a hidden truth behind it. He was lonely and it hurt sometimes, because people would joke about it, as would he, but it only cut him deeper. He wished that he could have someone to hold at night, but there were several reasons why he doubted he would ever have this:
1. He worked from 8:30am to 10:30pm on weekdays, so barely had much time for someone else in his life.
2. He cracked jokes that no one understood because they didn’t know his references, making situations generally pretty awkward.
3. People always assumed he was gay. He hadn’t been hit on by a women in a few years, a guy, three weeks ago.
4. He was short. Women don’t like short men. They’re more picky these days.

“Aww, you’re not lonely are you?”
“Painfully so,” he admitted.
“You can keep me company and vice versa tonight. I have beers in, if you want some,” she said, doing the finishing touches to her make-up.
“You drink beers?” he asked, a little surprised. He struck her as an elegant wine type of woman.
“Well, not really, but the majority, if not all of my friends are guys, so I’m always stocked ready. I don’t mind the occasional one, though,”
“Wow,” he smiled, crossing the road quickly, water park in sight. “That’s pretty cool. Can you even drink?”
“Just... well, in a few months, but they never ID you,” she noted, pulling her hair up into a relatively loose pony tail, letting her bangs hang down. “Why, how old are you?”
“I’m twenty-three. So two years I’ve been a drinker,” he said, walking a little quicker as he approached the building, because it was late at night, and although it was well lit, Sacramento still scared him at night. “Um, what floor did you say you live on?”
She smirked, sure he would have forgotten, and she was right. “Floor five, room 87. When you go up on the elevator, turn left and you’ll find it,”
“Alright, thanks,” he nodded, feeling stupid afterwards because she couldn’t see him nodding.
“So tell me something interesting about you, Brendon,” she said, phone to ear as she turned on the heating and turned the lights on in the main room, flicking through her music collection.
“I, um,” he paused for thought, scratching his head and entering the apartment building. “What would you like to know?”
“Tell me something about what you were like in high school,” she smiled, putting on a Gorillaz album, selecting the song ‘Clint Eastwood’ to play first.
“Oh good Lord,” he chuckled. “I was an emo. I dyed my hair black. At one point I had blonde highlights... it was atrocious. I cringe every time I see the photos. My mom brings them out frequently to spite me,” he smiled a little, walking into the elevator and pressing ‘5’.
“What made you go blonde?”
“I don’t know. All the girls went for the tanned, blonde guys, so I tried it... it failed miserably. I still had that big nose, fish lips, glasses and awkwardness... with blonde bits. Yeah,”
The elevator ‘dinged’ and he walked out, turning in the correct direction, scanning the numbers with his eyes, getting a little more excited as the numbers got closer to the desired one.
“It’s fair to say I’ve never been a hit with the ladies,”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, I’m sure you have a way with them,” she comforted.
“One long term girlfriend doesn’t classify as ‘a way’. It’s easy to keep them, just not to get them in the first place,” he muttered as he found the right door, knocking on it lightly. Marina jumped up from the couch, running to the door, checking her appearance then opening it, smiling. They hung up their phones and she ushered him in.
“So you’re not going to give me a hug?” she asked.
“I don’t really know you,” he blushed, playing with his belt loops.
“I’d say we were friends now, and I greet my friends with hugs,” she beamed, pulling him into a comfortable embrace. She breathed in his scent, glad he smelled good. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around the skinny woman. After a few seconds they parted and smiled.
“Beer?” she asked.
“Yeah, please,”
She quickly walked into the kitchen, removing the cap from the beer and pouring it into a pint glass, going back into the main room. Brendon was sat down on the couch, shoes off. He thanked her and took a sip of the beer, sighing with pleasure after a few sips, then placing it on the coaster. She sat on the opposite end of the sofa, but it wasn’t long, so they were relatively close.
“Why so glum?”
“Oh, Marina,” he smiled. “If only you knew,”
“Are you...okay? If something is really bad, then-”
“No, nothing terrible. It’s pretty mediocre, really. You like Gorillaz? That’s cool,”
“Brendon,” she warned. “I’m a nice person, you can tell me,”
He half-smiled, shaking his head. He didn’t need to unload his issues on to her. Being lonely wasn’t an issue, it was merely that sometimes he wished he wasn’t. He also knew who he wanted to make his.
“How long have you been single?” he asked.
“A while. Being in the army means I don’t get much time for a relationship, and guys don’t want to wait around, do they? They want sex and they want it frequently, but they can’t have it because I’m off fighting for our country,” she rolled her eyes.
“And your ring,” he pointed out.
“Oh, that thing, yeah,” she bit her lip. “It’s not a real purity ring. My older brother gave it to me, telling me to only give myself up for someone who really, honestly cares about me. He, um,” she gulped. “He died in battle. We used to go out and fight together, but he died first, so the rest of the men are like my brothers now. It reminds me of him, but it’s kind of a purity ring. It’s a little void now, though,” she blushed.
“I’m so sorry about your brother,” he smiled sympathetically, placing his hand on her knee. She placed her hand on top of his, to try and comfort herself.
“He was a good guy. He died too young,”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“It wasn’t your fault. Well, this conversation has taken a sad turn,” she chuckled. “Let’s go back to the happiness, ‘blonde highlights’ type stories,”
He laughed too. “But guys are crazy,” he agreed with her previous point. “To not want you, that is. They should man up and wait for you,”
“They can’t seem to do that,” she sighed.
“You have time to find someone,” he nodded, taking a few more sips, smacking his lips together afterwards.
“And you don’t? You’re only three years older,”
“Yes, but I feel a hell of a lot older than that,”
She linked her fingers with his, still on her thigh. “Why?”
“I don’t... I don’t know. I’ve experienced a lot, I suppose,” he smiled, revealing that perfect grin that braces must have once smothered.
“See? Look, you’re smiling, it’s nice when you do that. I thought you always smiled,”
“It depends who I’m with. If I’m with Will it’s a constant look of disgust,” he smirked, and they both laughed, then he yawned. “Fuck, I’m tired.”
“Then you should have stayed at home, silly,” she smiled, poking his arm. He poked her back and she laughed. “Don’t bully me, Urie,”
“What? You started it!” he squealed, then immediately calmed down. He held her chin lightly, then leaned forwards, kissing her cheek. “I poked your face,”
“With your lips?”
“Yup,” he giggled.
She could understand why people thought he was gay. Men don’t often where pants that tight or giggle.
“You’re an odd one.” she noted and he nodded, fully aware of this.