"Good afternoon, Mr. Brendon." The doorman smiled as he let him into the apartment building.
Brendon didn't smile or greet the man back. He wasn't in the mood to be social. So he stormed to the elevator. Tapping his foot impatiently as he waiting for the doors to slide open.
Someone walked up beside him. He glanced over to see who it was. But it was just some kid he didn't recognize. Short, dark hair, ridiculous tattoos.
The doors opened and they both stepped on. Brendon stood back and let the kid press the button to his floor first. He was going to have to get off first anyway since Ryan lived on the top floor.
The ride felt long and awkward. Brendon sighed when the lift finally stopped. Of course the doors didn't open right away. He looked up at the numbers above the door to see what floor they were on.
11
Why the hell was he getting off on Ryan's floor? Before Brendon could ask the question out loud, the boy was typing in the pass code and the doors were opening to the familiar room.
There was music blaring loud enough to rupture eardrums. The light in the usually bright room was dimmed. And the room was full of people. Some dancing, some drinking, some eating, some talking and laughing. It looked like Ryan was having a party.
The tattooed guy walked off of the elevator confidently. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. Brendon followed him and he didn't question it. That walked past the sitting room and into the kitchen, which was just as crowded.
He spotted Ryan instantly. He was sitting at the island wearing a pair of distressed jeans and a shirt with a V-neck that dipped way too deep. He was holding a glass in his hand and laughing too loudly at something someone else had said. He slipped his phone from his pocket and typed something into it.
Brendon couldn't move. It felt like his feet were rooted to the floor. So he just watched. He watched Ryan put his phone back into his pocket. He watched him drink and laugh. He watched the boy with the tattoos walk over and greet him. He watched that same boy sit down on Ryan's lap as if it were something he did all the time. He watched Ryan whisper things into his ear that they both would laugh at. He wasn't sure how long he stood there just staring before someone finally walked up to him.
"You must be stoned out of your mind."
He glanced over at the girl who'd approached him. Tall, pretty, red hair. Too much makeup and minimal clothes. Average party slut.
"Excuse me?"
She laughed. "You've been standing here just staring off into space for like five minutes. Did you try the coke?"
"No."
She laughed again. What the hell was so funny? "You're cute."
"I'm not interested."
"And you're funny." There it was again. That damn laugh.
"Oh my god, Amber. You're such a whore." A dark haired girl approached them. "Weren't you just blowing Tyler?"
The two began bickering back and forth. Brendon backed away from them. Some guys might find it hot, but he wasn't into girl fights. He turned back around to see what Ryan was doing, but he was gone. The guy who was on his lap before was now occupying his seat.
"Having fun?" The sound of Ryan's whisper sent chills down his spine.
YOU ARE READING
The Death Of A Bachelor
FanfictionThe death of his bachelor lifestyle shouldn't be so bad for Brendon Urie, right? Especially since he's married to someone as great as Dallon Weekes. Their life is story book perfection. A true happily ever after. But the excitement he used to relish...