Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time

Music thumps through the floor of a crowded night club. The music itself is muffled and any words sung are inaudible. Brendon stands off to the side, watching the men and women sway to a loud beat. He wants to know so desperately what's playing, but there's no DJ in sight. The lights fade in and out with rays of purples, yellows, greens, and blues. His body is almost weightless as he drifts around the room. Everything present fades in and out like a phantom. No one is recognizable, however, until he comes upon an empty bar. The seats are vacant and there's no bartender in sight. He looks behind him as his surroundings dissipate. The lights, the people, the thump of the music all begin to drift into nothingness.

He turns back around and Emmett stands there just behind the counter. He stares at Brendon with sad eyes. His hand raises up and rests on his chest and soon enough blood starts to seep through his shirt. His eyes start to become clouded as his mouth slowly hangs open. No words come out.

Brendon begins to yell, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I never meant to do this. I didn't-"

He wakes up and his body feels sickly. He runs over to the bathroom and empties his stomach into the toilet. He silently curses to himself before flushing and shifting over to the sink. He looks at himself in the mirror and, God, he looks like shit. He turns on the water and lets the liquid rush over his hands for longer than usual. He briefly splashes his face before drying off and going back to bed. But... he can't go back to sleep. The image of Emmett's corpse feels burned into the back of his skull.

His chest feels tight as a faint whine of panic stirs in the back of his throat. He bites down on the side of his left pointer finger just to keep it together. He shakes his head, and it almost becomes uncontrollable. He starts sweating, his eyes begin to strain as though they're about to drop tears. He tries to breathe and thinks, 'No, no, no, I did not kill that man. I think I'm guilty because he came to my party.' A nightmare... that's all that was. He was drunk last night.

He gets up from bed once again repeating those words as he walks into the guest bedroom. He speaks quietly to himself, "My fucking mind played tricks on me. Nothing happened in this room. Nothing...." He notices that faint stain on the ground. That red stain... he forgot to get out.

"Wine... a nose bleed. Rational... rational mother fucking shit." He says. He quickly sprints to the kitchen to get some stain remover and a towel. He's quick to spray the area, rubbing in the chemical product as hard as he possibly can. After a couple minutes, he notices the stain is practically gone. He eventually applies a damp cloth to the area and soon enough feels a slight weight rise from his conscious. He looks back at the bare mattress, trying not to picture what had stirred in his nightmare. He then gets an idea to further rest his conscious. He goes back into his bedroom and notices the time is 5:13. Sarah is sound asleep and didn't plan to get up until 8. He then moves cautiously around the room, picking out clothes lying about that were closest to him. Whether they were clean or dirty, he doesn't care. He needs to get up and out of there as quickly and as quietly as possible.

He gets in his car and heads to the local mattress store. There, he picks out a white comforter and sheets. With most dull tasks, Brendon tends to take his time, dreading doing 'adult' things. Unfortunately, he can feel his sanity being put to the test. He gets home and dresses up the bed in the manner of an hour and a half. This task caused such an adrenaline spike, that he could barely recollect the lingering hangover. He scopes the room in its entirety and can feel the edges of his lips curl up into a small smile. In his opinion, it seems like a totally new room. Before his thoughts can wonder, he gives himself a brief nod and heads into the kitchen. While he makes coffee, he can feel his body start to calm down. His eyes start to feel heavy, but no, he's not going back to sleep. He does what he can to stay awake, going into his studio to primarily blast music and attempt to find inspiration.

By the time 8 o'clock rolls around, he walks back into the house and starts to make breakfast. He contemplates what Sarah would like, however, writing out strictly eggs and bacon. He goes to the fridge and pulls out some fruit and yogurt. He's not really sure how to put together a yogurt parfait acai- whatever the fuck- but it's for Sarah. The love of his goddamn life. He's gonna treat her right today. For a second, the word 'distraction' floats through his mind. He sighs, deciding to not have an internal battle on the matter.

Eventually, he can hear the sound of Sarah's voice. Her first words of the morning are presented in coos towards the dogs. She walks in the kitchen and greets Brendon, "Good morning, babe."

"Mornin', sugar lumps." He says in a slightly comical voice. He turns around and his growing smile is soon enough captured by Sarah's lips.

"You're making breakfast." She states.

"Yeah, I put together one of those weird acai yogurt whatever bowls you like so much." He presents her with the bowl; laying a spoon inside.

There's skepticism in her eyes as she goes to grab the bowl, "Thank you-"

Brendon stops her, retracting the bowl from her reach. He takes the spoon collecting some of the yogurt and toppings and says, "Open wide."

Sarah's eyes narrow as if to further push her skepticism. She opens her mouth and Brendon slides the spoon inside. Brendon eagerly waits for her response as she chews her food. She begins to nod, and after she swallows, she says, "Not too bad. I think you overdid it with the honey."

Brendon pretends to act offended, "You can never have enough honey, honey. God!"

Sarah pats his shoulder, "No, it was fine, alright? Chef Urie, ten out of ten."

"Naw, you ruined my hopes and dreams, babe!" Brendon continues as he gets his breakfast together.

They leave the comical conversation at that as they both continue eating at the table. It's silent for a few minutes before Sarah says, "Anything going on you want to talk about?"

"Not particularly." The musician replies almost too quickly as he takes a sip of coffee.

"After what happened these couple of days... pretty sure it shook a lot of people up."

"Yeah, but there's always a time to move forward."

"That's true."

"I bought new sheets and a comforter for the guest bedroom."

Sarah looks surprised. "Really?"

They both put their dishes in the kitchen and walk over to the guest room.

Brendon says, "Woke up early, decided to get a chore done."

"That's great, B. Wow, yeah the comforter definitely goes better with the room now."

"Mhm!" Brendon smiles to himself.

"Didn't think either one of us would get around to doing this so soon."

"I know. I deserve double props for not just making Zack do it."

Sarah turns to look at Brendon, slowly closing the space between them. They both go in with an opened mouth kiss as Brendon tastes a small hint of honey on her tongue. She slightly pulls on his shirt as they move closer to the bed. Sarah lets her body fall on the new comforter as Brendon hovers above her. The kissing continues as Brendon's hands trail her body. Her lips fall on his neck, and the musician can feel his jeans get tighter. Her hands soon enough find the button of his jeans, but Brendon stops her.

"Bren...?" Sarah says breathily.

He grips the sheets, trying desperately to not recall the horrendous picture in his mind. Emmett's body below his in this room...

"Fuck..." The musician curses.

Sarah cups his face, "What?"

Brendon swallows hard, focusing on the present, "Nothing." He shakes his head with a small smile.

He goes in for a kiss, she stops him, "You sure?"

"Yeah...let's take this back to our room, hm?"

Sarah pauses, and a smile begins to rise on her lips. She looks back up at him, "Okay."