Mr Thompson's Pub and Cabaret

Ignored, as usual, but all Brendon could find himself thinking about was the skin of Vera's bare stomach against his fingertips as she danced across the stage and he watched from the curtains. Sunlight poured into the cabaret and reflected against all of the mirrors behind the bar.

At least no one would bother him and interrupt him watching Vera anymore. Most people just assumed of what the two of them were at this point, but Brendon sometimes wondered if he even knew himself. I mean there were moments like last night, where they'd gotten to the point of almost having sex, and then there had been moments where they'd go on innocent dates. But there wasn't any official information that could make him think they were officially together, right? They'd never talked about it, so it wasn't real yet.

Yet.

Vera strutted off stage, and when she walked past Brendon, all dressed up in his costume, she winked. The curtain closed and all of the girls took their positions on stage, brushing past the two of them. Vera rolled her eyes. For someone who had been through so much, she was pretty good at handling all their shit.

Through the rest of the practice, they ran their numbers, got the choreography down to a science, and then Vera went to go change, saying she'd be right back. Brendon started packing up his backpack when he felt someone watching him. He turned around to see Ryan standing there, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey," Brendon said, because it was worth a shot, wasn't it?

Ryan took a step closer. "We're done with all of this shit you're putting us through, Brendon," he spat, looking less than pleased.

So it wasn't friendly conversation he was after.

"Listen, I don't know what all of your hang ups are over me and Vera, but we're not doing anything except our job, which is what you and all the others told me to do. So why is it when I listen to you that you freak out?" I asked, shaking my head.

He rolled his eyes. "Stop playing innocent," he hissed, turning around, but Brendon grabbed his arm.

"Listen to me!" he yelled, and Ryan spun around, his fist colliding with Brendon's jaw, causing him to stumble back with surprise and pain, holdin it as he groaned. He heard Ryan walk away, but heard someone else's frantic footsteps coming closer to him, and wrap their arms around his shoulders.

"You bastard!" It was Vera. She was screaming at Ryan, telling him that he had to get over himself because he hadn't done anything. Then she sat him down on a chair, one he assumed went to her vanity, and she knelt down in front of him. "Bren?" she said quietly, gently grabbing his wrist and pulled it away from his jaw. He saw her face turn into a pained expression as she rested her hand against it. "Come on, let's get you to my place. It's shorter," she said, and helped him stand up and get into her car.

They were both silent on the way there, and Brendon could tell she was still angry about what had happened. When they got to the apartment, Brendon opened up the door himself, because he didn't want Vera to feel like she had to babysit him, and they walked up to her room.

The pain had subsided a little, but it still stung more than he would have liked. He kept quiet, because he knew trying to talk would just hurt him more. She opened the door, sat him down, and turned to her freezer, putting some ice in a ziplock bag.

"Here you go," she said quietly, moving my hand and put the ice down where he'd gotten hit. The fire had faded from her eyes and she seemed calmer now. He put his hand over the bag, and turned his lips up a little.

"Thanks," he muttered, wincing a tiny bit.

Vera's hand never strayed from his cheek. They locked eyes, and for a minute, he had the terrible urge to lean in and just rest his lips on top of hers and never take them away. And he would have, had she not stood up to answer her phone ringing on the counter.