We'll Sing It Back
Two.
Brendon Boyd Urie was never one to be embarrassed when it came to activity that involved the opposite sex. In all honesty, he thrived on activity with the opposite sex. It gave him a thrill like the one he got only when he was performing on stage in front of a large, screaming crowd.
He smiled and waved at the pretty girl who had just boarded the bus. Recognition dawned on her face but before she could show any real emotion or reaction to his presence the bus pulled away, leaving Brendon Urie wondering what her name was.
It was days like these that he enjoyed being the single man that he was though he did, surprisingly to some, have days where he would seriously contemplate developing a long-term relationship. But throughout the past two years he hadn't dated a girl for more than two months with the exception of Gina who had dumped him when he refused to go to college in order to pursue his music career.
Gina, who had always believed that Brendon had a brilliant mind, had claimed, just before walking out the door, that Brendon was 'throwing his life away for a silly dream'.
"Silly dream, my ass," he muttered grumpily as he remembered that particular ex-girlfriend. Brendon checked his watch only to confirm his assumption that the bus was late once again.
Just as he was about to pull his iPod from his coat pocket to pass the time he spotted yet another not-too-bad looking girl out of the corner of his eye.
She was pointedly heading for the bus stop. It was hard to make out her features because a green fluff-rimmed hood shielded her face from the harsh winter wind though several curls of gingery brown hair jutted out from beneath her hood. She didn't look up when she arrived at the bus stop but merely shoved her hands in her pockets and shivered.
Brendon watched her for a short moment and then continued to put his earphones in his ears and -
"I hope you realise that you're killing off your brain cells," the girl snapped, looking up at Brendon with a look of faint irritation, mild interest and disapproval. Her words dripped hostility.
"And what do you propose I do?" Brendon asked in return with a light-hearted smile playing on his lips.
"Buy a pair of headphones," the girl snapped again but this time she rolled her eyes as if she was stating the obvious.
"Well then, I hope you realise that a decent pair of headphones cost twenty dollars and that's a twenty-dollar-bill that I'm not willing to part with," he smirked at her and she raised an eyebrow.
"Suit yourself," she shrugged in a way that suggested she was anything but not-irritated by his attitude. "It's people like you that ensure that those who work at Crystal Hearing have a steady income."
"Excuse me?" Who on Earth were 'those at Crystal Hearing' and who did this girl think she was, talking to him in such a way?
"They make hearing aids," she rolled her eyes again as if he ought to have known this too, making him frown.
"And it's people like you that ensure that those who work at record stores have a steady income," he answered back after a moment's hesitation. He didn't know what game she was playing but he was pretty damn sure that two could play it.
"It's certainly people like you who people like me waste their time talking to because they think, for a brief moment, that this person might actually have some brain cells to lose," she turned away from him and fixed her icy gaze on the road in front of them.
"Nice to meet you too," Brendon laughed and he extended a hand for her to shake. "The name's Brendon."
"I never said it was nice to meet you," the female still didn't look at him but shook his hand anyway. "And don't think I'm going to tell a stranger my first name."
"But I'm not a stranger!" He exclaimed, feigning hurt. "I'm your new bus stop friend, Brendon!"
"Honestly," she mumbled, seemingly to herself, "I've wasted my time doing better things than this talking to a lunatic while waiting for a bus that's late."
Just as Brendon opened his mouth, about to spout yet another smart comment, he was cut off by the sound of the girl's mobile phone ringing. Or at least, he assumed it was hers.
She pulled a thin black mobile from her pocket, pressed a button and said in a tone that most people don't use to greet someone who is taking time out of their day to contact them, "What do you want?"
A muffled voice said words that Brendon couldn't hear despite that he was actually trying to eavesdrop.
"I'm at the bus stop and the bus is late." There was a pause before she snapped, "Yes, twenty minutes late." The conversation went on with Brendon quickly losing interest, only paying attention for a couple seconds or so when her voice would raise.
Five minutes later she growled, "What was that, Beckett?" Brendon's ears instantly perked up. He associated the name with that of his friend William Beckett though he knew the chances of them being the same person were slim.
"Why would I be angry with you for uttering either of their names? It's not like me to hold a grudge, Will (at this point Brendon was very close to grabbing the phone and asking if that was in fact his friend) - you know that. I'm a forgiving person." At this last statement Brendon scoffed, earning a glare from the girl.
"Fine, bye," she grumbled and then she put the phone back in pocket, mumbled something about a taxi and walked away in a very unfeminine, ungraceful and unhappy way.
Brendon was the teeniest bit annoyed that he didn't get to ask any questions about who she'd been talking to but he was glad for the peace. He put his earphones into his ears and muttered, "Fuck brain cells. Who needs them?"
He smiled and waved at the pretty girl who had just boarded the bus. Recognition dawned on her face but before she could show any real emotion or reaction to his presence the bus pulled away, leaving Brendon Urie wondering what her name was.
It was days like these that he enjoyed being the single man that he was though he did, surprisingly to some, have days where he would seriously contemplate developing a long-term relationship. But throughout the past two years he hadn't dated a girl for more than two months with the exception of Gina who had dumped him when he refused to go to college in order to pursue his music career.
Gina, who had always believed that Brendon had a brilliant mind, had claimed, just before walking out the door, that Brendon was 'throwing his life away for a silly dream'.
"Silly dream, my ass," he muttered grumpily as he remembered that particular ex-girlfriend. Brendon checked his watch only to confirm his assumption that the bus was late once again.
Just as he was about to pull his iPod from his coat pocket to pass the time he spotted yet another not-too-bad looking girl out of the corner of his eye.
She was pointedly heading for the bus stop. It was hard to make out her features because a green fluff-rimmed hood shielded her face from the harsh winter wind though several curls of gingery brown hair jutted out from beneath her hood. She didn't look up when she arrived at the bus stop but merely shoved her hands in her pockets and shivered.
Brendon watched her for a short moment and then continued to put his earphones in his ears and -
"I hope you realise that you're killing off your brain cells," the girl snapped, looking up at Brendon with a look of faint irritation, mild interest and disapproval. Her words dripped hostility.
"And what do you propose I do?" Brendon asked in return with a light-hearted smile playing on his lips.
"Buy a pair of headphones," the girl snapped again but this time she rolled her eyes as if she was stating the obvious.
"Well then, I hope you realise that a decent pair of headphones cost twenty dollars and that's a twenty-dollar-bill that I'm not willing to part with," he smirked at her and she raised an eyebrow.
"Suit yourself," she shrugged in a way that suggested she was anything but not-irritated by his attitude. "It's people like you that ensure that those who work at Crystal Hearing have a steady income."
"Excuse me?" Who on Earth were 'those at Crystal Hearing' and who did this girl think she was, talking to him in such a way?
"They make hearing aids," she rolled her eyes again as if he ought to have known this too, making him frown.
"And it's people like you that ensure that those who work at record stores have a steady income," he answered back after a moment's hesitation. He didn't know what game she was playing but he was pretty damn sure that two could play it.
"It's certainly people like you who people like me waste their time talking to because they think, for a brief moment, that this person might actually have some brain cells to lose," she turned away from him and fixed her icy gaze on the road in front of them.
"Nice to meet you too," Brendon laughed and he extended a hand for her to shake. "The name's Brendon."
"I never said it was nice to meet you," the female still didn't look at him but shook his hand anyway. "And don't think I'm going to tell a stranger my first name."
"But I'm not a stranger!" He exclaimed, feigning hurt. "I'm your new bus stop friend, Brendon!"
"Honestly," she mumbled, seemingly to herself, "I've wasted my time doing better things than this talking to a lunatic while waiting for a bus that's late."
Just as Brendon opened his mouth, about to spout yet another smart comment, he was cut off by the sound of the girl's mobile phone ringing. Or at least, he assumed it was hers.
She pulled a thin black mobile from her pocket, pressed a button and said in a tone that most people don't use to greet someone who is taking time out of their day to contact them, "What do you want?"
A muffled voice said words that Brendon couldn't hear despite that he was actually trying to eavesdrop.
"I'm at the bus stop and the bus is late." There was a pause before she snapped, "Yes, twenty minutes late." The conversation went on with Brendon quickly losing interest, only paying attention for a couple seconds or so when her voice would raise.
Five minutes later she growled, "What was that, Beckett?" Brendon's ears instantly perked up. He associated the name with that of his friend William Beckett though he knew the chances of them being the same person were slim.
"Why would I be angry with you for uttering either of their names? It's not like me to hold a grudge, Will (at this point Brendon was very close to grabbing the phone and asking if that was in fact his friend) - you know that. I'm a forgiving person." At this last statement Brendon scoffed, earning a glare from the girl.
"Fine, bye," she grumbled and then she put the phone back in pocket, mumbled something about a taxi and walked away in a very unfeminine, ungraceful and unhappy way.
Brendon was the teeniest bit annoyed that he didn't get to ask any questions about who she'd been talking to but he was glad for the peace. He put his earphones into his ears and muttered, "Fuck brain cells. Who needs them?"