Jinxed Things Ringing

It was the following week and Grant phoned me the two nights before telling us they'd be there to have the meeting.

"Mmmhm," I said into the phone.

"We'll have to rush back home since it'll be Thanksgiving the next day," Grant said.

"You don't have to do that, it's quite a drive back. Why don't you and your crew bring your families and stay at our house after our meeting. We have a parade and great food," I offer.

"No, no," Grant laughed.

"Please! It would mean so much to me and Damien. Our parents are spending their Thanksgiving with family back in California, and we have to tend to the house. We adore the TAPS team so much," I pleaded.

"We really couldn't,"

"I insist,"

"Well..."

"Yaaaay," I squealed. Grant laughed on the other end. "I mean, your family and everyone else's will really appreciate it! I mean, a real deal Thanksgiving, right?! How could you NOT spend it here in Plymouth?! We invented Thanksgiving!"

"I'll talk to my wife and inform the guys. It really is last minute and we don't want to impose. I'm sure everyone already has food prepared,"

"That's true...I don't want to force you guys or anything...wait. How about a potluck!" I suggest. "Whatever is made can be brought over here and we'll have one huge dinner!"

"That...may actually work Genviève," Grant said thoughtfully.

"Alright, call me back then and let me know the plans," I say. He agrees and we both hang up.



The day after, seeing Brendon sit down at the piano in the foyer, I skip in and touched his shoulder. He jumped in shock.

"Whoa," he breathes. Now that he's gained solidity, he stroked the piano keys and smiles. "You have no clue," he whispered. "How much I died inside when I had to pass this up,"

"Play something for me," I requested softly. He crossed his fingers and bent them outwards, relieving a crack from his bones. He positioned his finger on the keys and pressed softly, allowing the piano to shudder out a groan of sound. Brendon closed his eyes as he pressed again, this time moving an octave lower. He spread his hands apart, allowing the right one to handle a slow melody, the left stroking bass notes. Sitting on his right, I rested my head on his shoulder, looking up at his face.

His plump lips were parted breathing in and out at a steady pace. Brendon was one of those boys with very white skin. Not pale, but the kind if he ran a lot his face would be very red and blotchy. He just had that type of complexion. Obviously not one to tan, but get a better risk of sunburn. A typical Caucasian male.

His face was quite mature looking, a long face. His jaw narrow, chin rounded nicely. His nose was quite squat and arrow shaped from the front, but from the side it had a nice narrow hook. His eyes squinted when he smiled, the wrinkles at the edges becoming more defined. His lips; probably his most prominent feature. When he smiled, they spread across his face. A large mouth actually. He had no shame in pushing out his reddened lips. Probably better to kiss...

Gasping I lifted my head, my eyes snapping open. The music stopped with a messy clunk as Brendon looked at me with a questionable look.

I can't believe I actually thought about that! I must be going crazy. I mean...it's not like I haven't kissed him before. Quite the contrary, that one day of our public display of affection wasn't so modest. Reflecting back on it...I actually feel like a whore!

"Genviève?" Brendon asked softly.

"Yes?" My voice cracked. Smooth, Genviève.

"You look like you just swallow a bug," Brendon said. His face crumpled. "You...didn't, did you?"

"No, no,"

"Then what's wrong?"

I thought for a moment and looked up at him. "Sing for me,"

"What? No," Brendon said as if it was the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard.

"You're a lead singer of a band!"

"Were," Brendon said with a chuckle jabbing at random notes at the piano.

"You played for thousands!"

"Precisely. Not for a crowd of one," He said looking down at me seriously.

"Don't be modest," I said trying not to lose my cool.

"I won't sing for you, you'll have to settle with that," Brendon said instantly letting his hands play a song on the piano. He looked so comfortable with it. Getting into the song, I could tell that he wanted to start singing very badly, but would catch himself and look my way with a blush on his cheek.

"Hm mmmmm, tonight..." He mumbled as he started getting into the song. He pursed his lips from trying to sing, but would hum out a word or two. "Belieeeeeeve...mhmm...in me...."

I smiled at the song. It was catchy and cute from the small mutterings I heard.

"Believe," He said the last word and finished the song.

"What was the song called?" I asked.

"Won't tell you," Brendon said with an annoying smirk.

"Wh...why not?!" I asked.

"Because I know you'll look for it and when you do, you'll bug me about it," Brendon said.

"You know me too well," I laughed.

"Ditto," He whispered. We sat there just staring at each other. "You've got something in your eyes," Brendon whispered. "Don't worry, it's just a sparkle,"

"Cheeky boy," I said softly with a smile, letting my eyes slowly flutter to a close. Oh no...you know what that means..

Brendon leaned in, his nose stroking mine. Our lips didn't touch yet, but the affection between us was quite heated. He held my face with one hand and went in for the final..

Ding, Dong

My breath hitched and my eyes snapped open.

"Genviève...NO!" Brendon said desperately, realization hitting him. He struggled holding my arm. But I stood up and rushed away from himsprinting walking the ten long steps to the door. I yanked it open. Behind me I heard him punch the piano, letting a series of notes shrill through the air. My eyes widened at the visitor.

"Surprise," Grant said. Behind him must have been over 20 people! I smiled and hugged him and he accepted in a friendly way. A creak emerged behind me as I turned around. Brendon who had just banged on the keys, instantly dropped right through the bench and through the floor. I spun to look at Grant who was in shock.

"Come on in everyone!" I quickly squeaked as I held the door open. Everyone walked past Grant and into the foyer 'ooh'ing and 'ah'ing at our home.

"I need to talk to you later," I finally said to him breathlessly. Without a word, Grant entered the house with his family. I coughed and got the attention of everyone. "Thank you everyone so much for being here! I really do appreciate it," I said looking around not really knowing what to do. At that instant Damien walked in from the kitchen.

"HOLYMOLY," he jumped when he looked up from his apple that he was holding. Everyone laughed.

"Anyways, I guess Damien and I will show you to everyone's rooms and let you get settled in. I'll have dinner ready-"

"The women will cook!" Jason said loudly. All the men in the room cheered good-naturedly. I laughed.

"I see no wrong with help," I shrugged. The ladies laughed.

"Okay so I guess we'll just give you guys a small introduction about our house," I said, clapping my hands together. I gestured for Damien to start.

"Well this house was built in the mid 1800s by Robert Ames, son of Oliver Ames Jr. Robert's father was the president of the UPR, the Union Pacific Railroad, and left all his money to him. Robert was pretty active around Plymouth. He actually helped in the building of Pilgrim Monument. So he built a small house and settled down with his family," Damien stated.

"So the story about this...reputable house is because one day Ames started slowly showing signs of being mentally ill and rumor was it murdered his wife, who incidentally was having an affair," I stated getting into the story I was telling. "His children, already grown and out, hadn't bothered to come take care of him when they found out that their mother died. Many people came by however inquiring the mysterious death of his wife, and Robert hacked them and made a personal cemetery in his backyard," I said with a smile. Sometimes I just creep myself out.

"But later it was proven that Ames only murdered two other people besides his wife. His wife's lover and an official," Damien stated after me. "The city decided to make the backyard a cemetery anyways due to land space,"

"So this is the foyer," I said with a quick sweep of my hand and led the group, in counting over 26 including children, into the parlor. Damien gave them the basics of the dining room, the kitchen, and the library. We told them that they were more than welcome to explore the home and that it was harmless so that the children would be safe.

I went into the kitchen and had Damien show the group where they would reside. The two out of four hallways would be occupied by our guests. Lord knows we would never use them again.

I sighed and leaned onto the counter.

"Boo,"

I gasped and turned around to see Grant and Jason.

"You scared me," I said.

"So you said we needed to talk?" Grant asked. I nodded and looked around the room.

"Not here though," I said and led them out of the kitchen and into the cemetery. It was still day, a pleasant day for a walk. "I won't lie to you," I finally said when we reached more than halfway through the property. "The house isn't haunted by James Ames," The two were quiet for a moment.

"What is this then? Some sort of publicity?" Jason asked. I could tell he was getting angry. I knew...I saw the episode when a man conveyed the pair that their bar was haunted. But it was all wired to be a hoax. It was an upsetting episode to say the least.

"Let her finish man," Grant said.

"The history about it is true. But his ghost and his victims' ghosts aren't the ones hanging around," I say looking at the two of them. "It's of Brendon Urie's,"

"Who's?" Jason asked annoyed.

"Have you ever heard of Panic! At the Disco?" I asked.

"That name is familiar," Grant said thoughtfully.

"You've got to be kidding me," Jason finally said.

"You know 'em?" Grant asked his buddy.

"Yeah, Samantha loved them," Jason said. "My daughter," He told me. "She was 14 when he died. She was devastated,"

"Grant you saw the man at the piano," I said directly at him. Grant shook his head.

"This is too unreal man...never in my years," Grant closed his wrinkled eyes.

"You saw him?" Jason asked.

"I...how is he here?" Grant asked.

And with that. I told them.



"Why is he still here?" I asked the two men.

"Well...the general idea is," Jason started. "That everything we do is controlled by electrical impulses. Reading, writing, dancing. Whatever. So when we die, that electricity has to go somewhere,"

"Right. It's a general law of physics that energy-" Grant stated.

"Cannot be destroyed," I followed along.

"Good girl," Grant said pointing to me. "So where does this energy go? This is only one theory though,"

"So, this Brendon fellow. He can move things around?" Jason asked.

"He becomes physical," I said. The two gave me blank stares. "No. I really mean it. He becomes whole. I can touch him,"

"This isn't possible," Grant said shaking his head through chuckles. Through a serious look, I gave him a begging smile. "You'll have to prove it. Everything comes with evidence," Grant says.

"This, I can provide," I said with a smirk. "Please cover your ears,"

Grant and Jason hesitantly covered their ears. Sucking a whole lot of breath, I double over and screamed as loud as I could. It was a short scream, because I didn't want to worry anybody. But loud enough to get the attention of a certain-

"Genviève!" Brendon was running down the hill from the house.

"OH...." I said frustrated and stamped my foot. Brendon ran straight for me and almost tackled me over. "What are you doing?" I hissed.

"I couldn't very well appear out of nowhere Genviève. I mean...it's not like I can do that..." Brendon emphasized holding me tightly.

"Please don't faint when I show you this," I pleaded to them.

"Uhh..." Jason said looking at Grant nervously.

"Shake his hand. Touch him. Poke him. Prod him. He's solid?" I asked the two gentleman. They did so and came to a conclusion he was. "Okay Brendon. Let go," I said. He took a step back and immediately his whole form became quite...airy.

"Go ahead," I urged the two men. Grant was first to reach out and jab Brendon's shoulder. His hand went right through.

"HOLY SHIT!" Grant yelled loudly and jumped back. Jason did the same.

"I figured that," I started as they hesitantly came closer and examined Brendon more carefully. "When Brendon's emotions are at an extreme: happiness, fear, anger...he...comes back to life, sort of speak,"

The whole time Grant and Jason were muttering "How can this be?" or "This isn't real".

"If you keep your hand in long enough, you'll get frosted," I say. Grant keeps his hand inside Brendon's stomach and when he pulled it out, a layer of frost coated Grant's hand.

"Whoa," Grant laughed.

"The most active poltergeist that we've seen," Jason said. "Look how realistic he is. Clothes, facial expressions, hair. It's the whole entity!"

"This is...just...I can't even..." Grant stuttered.

"I needed you two alone. I couldn't call in an appointment without explaining myself. Please help me figure out what's going on," I begged.

"Well. What I've always believed is that the haunting circles around a female in her teen years," Jason said giving me a pointed look. "The females unknowingly control energy around herself. No two hauntings are ever the same,"

"Usually poltergeists center around one certain person," Grant says rubbing his neck.

"Not true. I've introduce him to my brother and Michelle," I respond.

"Usually if its not the teenage manifesting the activity, there are several spirits in the area. They pool their energy together in order to become strong enough to move larger objects and make nosies," Jason explains.

"I guess we can throw everything we know out the window," Grant states dully.

"Please don't. Not on the account of us," I plead.

"This honestly is a freak thing. The others-" Brendon starts.

"Others?" Jason asks. "You can communicate with other...ghosts?"

"Yes sir," Brendon replies. "And they all can't do what I can,"

"All I can think of...is maybe that it has to do with the curse then," Grant shrugs.

"You won't tell anyone will you?" I asked.

"Of course not!" they both said in unison. I smiled warmly at them.

"But we definitely want to be posted on everything. This'll be our little side project," Grant said with a boyish grin to Jason.

"Deal," I said with a smile.

"Ok. Now where's that dinner?" Jason asked.