Jinxed Things Ringing

Michelle and I were seated at the center of my room drinking tea on another casual day.

"When do you reckon they'll be done?"

"When Damien gets tired of throwing melons through Brendon, he'll stop. More tea?" I offered. She accepted.

"Boys are idiots," Michelle rolled her eyes and held her teacup out.

"And I'm dating their leader," I sighed.

"Guuuuuysss!" Damien shrieked like a girl. "BEST TEST SUBJECT EVER!"

Brendon gave a small smile as he followed my brother into my room. He took a seat next to me and leaned over to give me a peck, I felt the chill and didn't feel his lips. Brendon visibly flinched.

"It's fine," I mumbled softly to him.

"Ok, since last time clubbing was a bust. I say we go again," Michelle sat back and stretched, emphasizing on 'last time'.

I blushed and ducked my head.

Brendon grinned like crazy.

Damien, who was clueless as ever, slowly became angry as he recognized Brendon's 'grin'. Must be guy code or something.

"YOU FUCKARD!" he shouted at Brendon throwing a pillow at him.

Except that it went through him.

"Awww yeaaahhh," Brendon managed to drawl in the most sleaziest manner. Damien glared.



"Oh COME ON Brendon,"

"It's not. . . wait, I think I feel it,"

"You need to. . .aaaahhhh,"

"Stop screaming. Somebody will come up here and we'll both get in trouble,"

"It's frustrating me okay! Just hurry up!"

"I can't control these things!"

"You're too cold! I'm going to get frostbite!"

"Just, push? Can you do that for me?"

"I don't know. . ."

"Please? Just, a small push,"

"Bren. . . ok fine,"

"Do you feel that?"

"A little? It's kind of faint though," I winced at the temperature of my boyfriend's cheek. I could feel a wispy, almost cottony material where his face should be.

Satisfied, I smile slightly standing on my toes to kiss his lips, which weren't as solid as his cheek unfortunately, so I kind of fell through him. I pulled away hastily.

"Ok. We need to set some rules straight," I said shuddering. "No halfsies. Either your ghost or man. 100% ghost or 100% man. I can't do this whole, jello-thick-rubbery feeling. It's creeping me out. I feel like you're melting to my touch,"

"Deal," Brendon ran his hand over his face. "I don't know why it's not working. I haven't been solid for a while now,"

"I'm sorry," I sympathized going near him. He raised his gaze to meet mine. He looked so . . . so . . . sad.

"I don't have a heart, but it hurts when I can't touch you," Brendon's head lowered and his hair fell into his eyes.

"Aw Bren," I whined.

"I know it's selfish, because I feel like . . . everytime I am whole again, all our relationship is based off of sexual things!"

I looked down as well, briefly. I wouldn't deny that.

"I guess you have a right to be selfish," I admitted.

"No. Don't side with me. I'm a horny, horny, horny, horny, horny, horny-"

"Bren,"

"Oh right. horny horny-"

"Brendon!"

"Horny boy," he smirked. "I mean, I am so incredibly horny that rhinoceroses are like, 'douchebag!'. I am so incredibly horny that . . ."

I rolled my eyes as my boyfriend stood in front of me making 'horny' jokes. But what he didn't notice was that his face started to glow a little more and suddenly color filled his face.

"-little French boys want to play me- mmm!"

Brendon's tirade was cut off by my lips on his. He stiffened but then grew into the kiss, but before he could hold me I pulled away.

"I'm afraid you'll have to fix your own little problem by yourself, horny, horny boy," I said with a wink and patted Brendon's chest. As I went down my staircase I heard a distinct-

"Shit!"



"I can't believe we're in New York," Damien squealed.

"Seriously dude. Man up," Brendon said nonchalantly.

"Brendon looks like a pimp," Michelle giggled. I'm sure he did.

Here we all were seated in Michelle's large and very expensive car crusing down the streets of New York, looking for a good club. Not that we would know any club, just that we were trusting Michelle would find us a good one.

Brendon was seated, slumped in his seat, one elbow propped on the door, the other arm slung over me, gazing bored out the windows.

"This is a pretty big SUV," Brendon admitted, nodding his head in approval.

"S-U-E?" Michelle asked.

"No- V. . . SUV. The car we're sitting in. It's an SUV," Brendon corrected her. Michelle squinted a little at him before shaking her head.

"I'm pretty sure this is a limo,"

"What the fuck."

"Huh? What are you talking about Brendon?" Michelle became exasperated.

"This is a limo? A l-limo? What happened to them! It's . . . mini!"

"What? What were they like back then?!" Michelle asked her eyes showing off a much more interested glimmer.

"Well . . . they had the same layout I guess . . . but I mean, it was, just, longer," Brendon thought back.

"How long?" Michelle asked.

Brendon chuckled lowly.

"Well baby if you're that curious. . ."

"Oh dear God," Michelle rolled her eyes. Damien laughed realizing the innuendo.

"It was at least three times longer," Brendon chuckled honestly.

"Th-three??" Michelle's eyes gleamed. Brendon frowned.

"Jeez girl. Calm yourself, you'll give yourself an orgasm,"

"Too late," Damien rolled his eyes.

"I have to get myself one!" She squealed clapping her hands. I laughed and sat back enjoying the flashing lights.

Suddenly, I felt Brendon's body tense up. I furrowed my eyebrows and turned to him.

"What's wrong?" I asked him lowly. He shook his head. I nudged him.

"It's just that- I dunno. It was real cute how you looked so eager at the lights just now and so excited, I was about to say . . . nothing," Brendon shook his head.

"No. Not nothing. Tell me," I smiled.

"I was going to promise that when I go on tour, I want to show you the real lights," Brendon whispered his hand cupping my cheek.

"Cheeseball," I chuckled shoving him away roughly. Brendon place his hand on his chest where I pushed him and looked up at me through the hair that feel into his eyes.

"Did it work?"

"Almost," I grinned and turned back to the lights, not letting Brendon's whispering promises in my ear going unnoticed.



"How the hell are we going to get in?" Damien muttered. But the answer to this was when Michelle simply ignored the long line formed at the door and waltzed up to the bouncer exchanging a small smile and a few words. She turned back and beckoned us in.

I looked at Damien with a shrug and followed Michelle, tugging Bren along.

We entered the what seemed like an endless club. The far left wall lined with the bar.

"Miss," I faintly heard. I turned and expectantly looked at the man standing behind a booth.

"Your coat and purse?"

I smiled at him and stripped my peacoat off revealing my simple dress outfit.

"Yowza," Brendon chuckled in my ear, pulling me away from the man.

We were led to the bar where Michelle was chatting with the bartender.

"You made the right choice to be friends with her," Brendon approved. I rolled my eyes.

"Shallow," I whistled.

"She's reminds me of a lot of friends I use to have," Brendon mused.

"Famous no doubt," I chuckled.

"Anything to drink guys?" Michelle yelled to us over the music blaring from what seemed like the roof.

"Yeah. Just a beer," Damian shout back. She nodded and looked back to Brendon and me.

I shook my head. Brendon asked for a beer as well.

When the drinks were served, a little after Damian struck up a conversation with a pretty blonde next to him. Michelle was still in a heated debate/conversation with the bartender as he paused momentarily every few minutes to serve a drink.

Brendon was nodding his head to the music his eyes scanning over the carefree people. I also was watching the spectacle before me. I'm pretty sure I could see some famous celebrities in the upper deck from here. Speaking of-

"Let's go," Michelle tugged on my elbow.

"Where?" I asked.

"VIP lounge," She said simply. I raised my eyebrows, wondering if what I heard was right. Was my mind deceiving me? Did Michelle really read my thoughts?

Brendon was tugging along Damian who seemed to be upset that he was pulled away from the girl but not over the fact he got her number.

We gingerly walked through the clubs people, avoiding dancing figures, stumbling drunks, and being lost from each other.

Michelle once again worked her magic with the bouncer standing in front of a roped area. The four of us floated in the lounge without problem.

"Ohmygosh is that Elaina Katenburry?" Damian practically drowned in his drool.

"Who?" Brendon asked.

"Thomas Melkstan!" I gasped seeing the beautiful man chatter idly with his entourage.

"Bless you?" Brendon again questioned.

"Celebrities my good man! Famous celebrities! And hot at that," Damian nudged him. He furrowed his eyebrows gazing over the heap of actors, models, and beautiful people.

"Hm. Way ahead of my time. I was expecting a Hilton or Lohan gang,"

"The Hiltons?" Michelle turned to Brendon suddenly interested. "Do you see him?"

"Him?," Brendon asked surprised. "I was talking about Paris, Paris Hilton,"

"Paris? What? Why would his mother be here?" Michelle shook her head as if it was the most preposterous thing she'd ever heard. "Besides, she's not allowed her anyways. They'd be in LA. What a peculiar thing to see them here of all places,"

"Who is this he??" Brendon stressed.

"Nicholas Hilton silly. He's anything and everything anybody's talking about," Michelle flipped her hair.

Brendon's eyebrows once again were raised. "Wow. I guess the legend lives on. Is he as trashy as his mother?"

"That's weird that you talk about his mother so often Bren," Michelle said flatly.

"I knew his mother," Brendon snorted.

"Well they do say that Mom got along quite well back then, but you don't seem like you lived that era to know that,"

Everybody except Brendon's jaw dropped as Nicholas Hilton grinned at our group.