Intern (Brendon Urie)

Chapter Two

Just a heads up: trigger warning: mentions anxiety . If you're iffy about this sorta stuff, skip this chapter. Much love xx

I've often thought about if my worries were a physical form, I'd scrunch them all up and burn them with complete reckless abandon. And I often imagine all my cares and overreactions are a terrifying villain or demon I have to expel from my brain. Sometimes that makes it more stressful.

Thinking about worrying makes me worry. With anxiety, there's not much I can do. I've always felt like a burden on everyone I encounter. I feel like I'm annoying and a pathetic mess. And when I have these thoughts, I think I'm selfish for worrying about my own problems instead of paying attention to other people. Like I said before, there's not much that can be done about it. I'm pretty sure no medical doctor or psychiatrist could stop me thinking these kinds of things completely.

But everyone gets that time to time.

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"Oh! I'm on my way to the studio, to the studio, to the studio, OHHHHH" I hear some one sing from across the street. He's skateboarding and filming this...WAIT. HE'S FILMING!? Oh god, oh god, don't get me in the shot, good lord. He (thankfully) puts away his phone after fiddling with it for a short while and then boards around the corner to 'The Studio'.

Shit.

'The Studio' is where I now work. God! I'm so stupid. There are not many studios one could skateboard to in this part of LA. Frickin frickle.