Your Blackbird

I heard the slam of a door come from across the house and flinched violently then continued putting my makeup on. I should be used to hearing obnoxious noises but I suppose every day when he comes home I hope that it’ll be different, that for once my dad would be completely sober and walk in and compliment me. Just on anything. On cleaning my room, or doing well on a test. Maybe even how I look but I know it could never go as far to that. And every day nothing changes. It’s gotten to the point that the whole house reeks of beer and other alcoholic beverages I could never name since they didn’t stay in their glasses for long and once they were gone my sister had to take out the trash before anyone discovered one of my families dirty little secrets that are never to be discussed.

It didn’t used to be like this. But after my Mom died things slumped down into shit. And now I have to deal with living in a prison, I could never call it home again after the fights that still seem to echo off of these walls. And after the fights came the drinking. And now it’s just me, in my room all of the time, wasting time he’d say.

I finished my eyeliner then pushed myself away from the mirror that sat on my desk next to piles of poems Brendon says are too emo for even him to read. I think I look nice. I don’t like my lips or hair that much but I try not to let those insecurities show. Brendon says they’re fine. He says I’m lucky.

Brendon Urie is my best friend. I only met him one year ago but I’ve never been close to anyone as much as I’m close to him, not even my sister and two brothers. The thing is he listens. And that’s what I really need right now, just someone who listens. I’ve already heard enough talking in my life and empty words that make broken promises. I just need someone to listen.

I grabbed my backpack and stuffed it with a heavy sweatshirt and a few scarves so it’d look like books were in it. I wasn’t suppose to go out on weekends anymore because apparently B- in most of my classes isn’t good enough and I need to be home and study. But between making sure my family doesn’t fall apart all the way, being in a band, and trying my best to stay out of depression I think a B- grade is fucking good enough.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!” my dad yelled as I began going down the stairs to the front door. By the sound of his voice I could tell he had only had a couple drinks so far, this was good. The less he had the more understanding he was of speech. Meaning the less likely he’d accuse me of not telling him things, such as where I’m going.

“Going to Brendon’s for the night, big project due on Monday. We’re almost done though.” I lied while slipping some shoes on.

“Why do you have to stay at his for the night if you’re almost done?” he asked suspiciously. The downside of him catching me when he isn’t all the way out there? He can actually think a little.

“Need to make sure everything’s perfect. Planning to get an A+” I lied some more.

“Good, you better get an A+. I’m sick of you slacking around. What are you going to do when it’s time for college? You only have a few more months left. If you don’t get into college because you’ve failed classes I won’t be helping you pay for your first year.” he said suddenly acting like the father of the year. As if he was worried about my life.

“Okay, dad. Bye.” I said practically running out of the house. The more he said the more I got pissed off.

Brendon only lives a few blocks away so I usually walk but I could see he was waiting across the street, sitting in his beat up old van. He bought it so if we ever had gigs a few hours away then we could fit all our instruments and ourselves in one vehicle. Smart idea I have to admit but it still feels lame when we’re the only two in it and come to a red stop light. Then people we know turn and laugh, oh look at two teenagers in a beat up van hahaha. Yeah, I don’t find it that amusing either.

“What’s up, Ross?” he says giving me a crooked smile, his eyes were all lit up. They’re always all lit up, Bren has a way of being in a good mood a lot. Even if there’s nothing that happy to be about.

“Oh, just lying through my teeth like always.” I said trying to play it off as a joke but it was hard since it was the truth.

The look of concern on his face didn’t help. If anything I should be the one concerned, concerned about him. He’s having issues with his family now. I’m not exactly sure what those issues are but I’ve heard him say things about finding an apartment downtown somewhere. And generally if you’re getting along with your family you aren’t looking for a place to live by yourself.

“Are you okay?” he asked, putting his hand on my shoulder. The heat of it made me flinch. I do this a lot nowadays, flinching.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I said mustering up the most convincing smile I could, it still turned out a little too small. Fine. I don’t know one person who uses the word “fine” unless they aren’t.

But it seemed to be enough of an answer for him because he turned his attention back on the road and started driving towards his house. “So I was thinking maybe on Wednesday we can have band practice at Spencer’s since his parents won’t be home and it’d be a good opportunity to actually play without caring how loud it gets.”

We usually play at Jon’s put his neighbors have been complaining about all the “racket” we make. It’s a great confidence booster when people refer to the music you spend hours on end creating as “racket”.

“I don’t know…my dad is becoming a real pain when it comes to making plans, during the week or not.” I said frustrated. I was turning 18 in August. I should be old enough to control my life by now. Not have to listen to dear old daddy.

“Just say you’re coming over to study or something.” Brendon suggested.

“I just told him I’m sleeping over at your place because we’re working on a project. If suddenly I have a whole bunch of projects and studying to do he’ll get start wondering what’s really up.” I said, playing with the zipper from my bag.

“Well, it is the end of the year so it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise. They’re already really about to hammer us with more stupid things to do. You know, that one last pounding of education or whatever before they unleash us out into the real world to cause havoc and turn the place into a living hell.” he said chuckling at the thought.

It was true though haha, our class had been especially bad this year. I can’t count how many times there had to be detention schedules set up and a few girls even went and got themselves knocked up. We’re so innocent I guess.

“You’ve got a point…I’ll try my best.” I said as we pulled into his driveway. The sun was beginning to go down and at times like this, when it was just Bren and I, away from my family, things always were a bit better. My life was better. It’s great having a friend to help you through the nights you can’t stand to be by yourself.

“Just gonna stay out there smiling all funny or are you gonna come in?” he asked smirking at my goofy face.

“Shut up, Urie.” I brushed past him and walked into his house like it was my own. Sometimes I think it is, it’s my real home.

“So…now what?” I asked lamely, throwing my backpack on his queen sized bed. It’s insane that someone as small as Brendon would want to sleep in a bed that big. It’d be so empty, practically begging for another body to lay on it. For a moment I wondered if anyone had ever laid on it with him…but I didn’t feel like going into his sexual life. Bren is a bit shy about things like that.

“And now…we…I don’t know.” he said stumped. Well, I snuck out of the house pretty much to sit on Bren’s bed that may or may not have been sexed on (that sounds awkward) only to wonder what’s next in our interesting lives. This is fun.

“I can go downstairs and grab us some snacks or something and we can watch a movie, I don’t know. I feel like just chilling tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good.” I took my socks off and tossed them into my bag. I absolutely hate walking around on carpet wearing socks. Call me strange, but it’s the weirdest sensation ever.

Bren left to go downstairs and become Super Chef. He’ll probably make some nachos or something that we’ll most likely regret eating when it’s time to go to bed and our stomachs are burning from jalapenos.

I spent his moment of abstinence looking around the room. Not much had changed since the last time I was here. Some laundry had been picked up, book shelf had been dusted, and the instruments he doesn’t usually play in public, such as accordion, were put away, probably in his closet that’s in dire need for a change. I’ve seen him in so many plain t-shirts I almost want to go shopping for him when I’m at the nearby mall.

A certain picture on his desk caught my eye, it was of him and I. Taken a few months ago I guess. I don’t really remember but it seemed recent. I was wearing a black shirt and sweatshirt and Brendon was wearing a red plain t-shirt (oh shocker there haha) we looked happy. Like really happy. I can’t believe I’ve smiled that wide in my entire life. But there we were sitting close outside of school, grinning like we had the world in the palms of our hands.

“Okay, I come bearing snacks.” I heard him say from behind me. I jumped lightly, surprised by his sudden return, and quickly turned away from the picture of us.

“NACHOS!” he yelled, holding a plate of chips covered in cheese and you guessed it, jalapenos.

“Sometimes you are so predictable.” I shook my head laughing and took the plate from him to set it on his desk.

“Did you think of a movie we could watch?” he asked, doing a dance on his way to his movie collection.

"Uh, nope. Your call, B."

He smiled when I said his nickname.

"Titanic it is!" he grabbed the DVD and jumped over to his DVD player.

I rolled my eyes. "We watched that last time, you hopeless romantic."

"A classic is a classic though. And you know, you love you some Leo DiCaprio." he raised his eyebrows up and down and sent me a wink.

Heat on my cheeks...what is this?

Blushing...um...strange.

"You're so right, B. I just want to make sweet love to Leo." I fell back onto his bed, making myself comfortable as the movie started.

Brendon turned off the lights and brought the plate of food over to the bed to sit down.

He scooted till his thigh was next to the side of my stomach and ate a few chips.

"You want some?"

"Nah, I'm not hungry anymore."

He nodded, put the plate down, and straightened his body out until we were side by side.

By now Jack had won a ticket onto the ship and was racing to meet his upcoming death, unknowingly.

I felt a twinge of pain. I know it's fiction but still...I wonder if he'd knew that he'd die would he still have gone? Would he still have gone if he knew he'd meet Rose but die?

Brendon squirmed a bit and whined "I'm cold!"

"Put the blanket over you."

"But we're laying on it."

"Too bad then."

"BUT I'M COLD!"

"Ah, fuck fine. Come here." I pulled his body closer to mine and put my arm behind his neck so he could lean against whatever warmth I had.

"Thanks, Ry."

"Yeah, yeah, no problem."

I sat there for a moment not paying attention to the movie.

You know, Brendon has some really nice, soft, skin.

I'm just saying.