Pretty In Ink - Brendon Urie

2:00 am

The pain continued to course through my leg, causing me to think of nothing but the soreness. Brendon's fingers lightly tapped the steering wheel along to the song on the radio. I tightened my grip on the handle on the car door, and shut my eyes in an attempt to lesson the pain. Though I couldn't see, I could feel Brendon's eyes gazing upon me.

"I'm fine" I said, annoyed. He sighed, and jerked the car in another direction.
"Did you just make a u-turn?" I chuckled, my eyes still closed. He didn't reply, instead only continued to hum to the song. "Where are we going?" I asked impatiently. He waited a beat before answering.

"The hospital," My eyelids sprang open.

"What? Why?"

"Because I want to make sure you're okay," He said, genuinely concerned. I shook my head.

"Brendon. I'm fine." He ignored my comment, and switched the station.
I narrowed my eyes at the road, annoyed with Brendon's stubbornness.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot, along with others who had friends or family with health issues far more serious than mine.

"It's probably just bruised if anything." I said, trying to reason with him. He twisted his keys out of the ignition and set his hands in his lap.

"I just want to make sure." He responded. "If you're hurt... It's my fault. I started the fight." I shook my head.

"No, Brendon, Eric hit you first. Don't feel bad about any of this." He rolled his eyes slightly at this.

"Can you please just cooperate and step out of the car?" He asked tiredly. I crossed my arms and shifted my gaze over to him.

"No. Bren, I'm fine." I could see the frustration build up inside of him.

"Alaina, if you don't get out of this car I will drag you out." I could tell he was only doing this because he felt bad, but I wasn't going to let him be a jackass about it.

"Nope." He looked down at his hands impatiently and gave me a few moments to reconsider.

"Fine." He stated angrily. "I'll just take you home." He started the car back up, letting the radio fill the awkward silence. I opened my phone for the first time since my sister called me, and found a never-ending list of messages from my family.

"Oh shit" I mumbled. Brendon drifted his eyes over to my phone.

"What's wrong?" I skimmed over the messages from my mom and dad, and the threatening texts from my sister.

"My family is pissed. I'll never hear the end of this."

"You can stay the night at my house tonight." He offered nervously. "I mean, if you want to." I considered this for a minute, thinking of the possible punishments waiting for me at home. I shrugged causally, as if I've stayed at hot celebrities houses all the time.

"Sure, why not." He smiled slightly, and turned into a rich-looking neighborhood. The houses were all white, with bricked mailboxes at the end of each ever-lasting driveway. The fences were at least 7 feet tall, with a pool in the backyard of each.

We pulled into a long driveway moments later, and stepped out onto the cold concrete. My leg was starting to feel better, and it was no longer impossible to walk. He unlocked the front door, and allowed me to step into his home. I looked around, surprised he kept the place so clean. I took him as more of a messy type of guy.

"mi casa es tu casa" Brendon greeted, extending his arm to show off his home.

"por que gracias" I replied confidently. He gave off a slight smile, acting like he understood what I just said. I chuckled silently and set my bag on his kitchen counter.

"Nice place" I said as I continued to admire my surroundings. The walls were painted a sparkling white color, and the flooring was a shiny dark brown wood. The ceilings were high, with skylights that showed the scattered stars of the night. The kitchen was nice, it's dark granite countertops filled with an assortment of kitchen appliances. He strutted over to his fridge, where he pulled out two bottles of beer. He held one out, offering it to me. I shook my head hurriedly, figuring drinking at 2:00 am in a boy I just met less than five hours ago's house wasn't the greatest idea.

"I don't really drink that much," I stated casually. He shrugged, and stuffed one of the beers back in the fridge. I continued to stand at the kitchen counter awkwardly as Brendon walked lousily over to the couch. He paused suddenly, and looked back to me.

"Come on, I got some video games we can play." I smiled casually and followed him over to the tv, where he had a gigantic display of video games on a tall white shelf. I didn't play much, so I just grabbed a Call of Duty game and tossed it to Brendon, who was turning on the X-box.

"Nice" He beamed, approving my choice. I collapsed onto the couch and kicked my legs up onto the footstool.

"Have you ever actually played this before?" Brendon asked as he sat down on the couch next to me. I shrugged casually.

"A few times." He handed me a controller and gave a cocky smile.

"Good luck beating me then." I rolled my eyes, annoyed that guys were always so competitive. He clicked onto the co-op mode, and once the game started, I roamed around for a little bit, trying to figure out all the controls. By the time I had figured out how to use the gun, Brendon had already located me and shot me on the first try. I looked over at Brendon, annoyed, and found him smiling at the screen.

"Whatever" I chuckled, "I'll get you next time."