A Fear Of Falling Apart ✿ Brendon Urie Daughter

Chapter One

[100% edited as of 6/21/18]

Brendon's voice was loud and bounced off the walls, as he stood in a blind confusion and slight annoyance. He tries to comprehend the woman's words as silence passed over them. "What is wrong with you? You're fucking sick!" The venom spat off of his lips, loud enough into the phone for the woman to hear his insult. Brendon barely remembered the woman on the phone and he racked his brain for who she was. All he could put together was that it was a person that he met at a party that his friend, Joshua Dun, held a while ago. Things quickly got heated, and Brendon recalled that he woke up the next morning with a hangover and was naked next to the strange brown-haired woman with blue eyes. 

"I had no other choice. I hope you really didn't expect me to raise a child, I'm only twenty!" Sarah, which Brendon guessed her name, said into the phone with irritation. Brendon couldn't believe the audacity of the woman, giving a poor child up to an orphanage without telling the biological father. He didn't even know he had a daughter until just now. Brendon felt aggravation cross his body and he had to keep himself from expressing his vulgar comments to her.

"So your solution to you getting pregnant after a one night stand, is to give the child up for adoption? Did you even, for one second, consider what I had to say about my son or daughter?" He was shaking with anger. Brendon tried to remain as calm as possible without releasing out all of what he has to say, in fear that Sarah could hang up the phone without giving the information about this child. Brendon didn't understand, why on earth would she not tell me about her? It seemed like the worst thing that she could have done.

"It was a mistake! I never wanted to have a child - it was a one night stand. My parents wanted me to tell you and that's why I am now. I assumed you didn't want her." Sarah explained lamely, sighing loudly towards the end. Her voice made it seem like she wanted to be anywhere else but in this conversation with him. Brendon didn't even get the chance to choose whether or not he kept the child. In all honesty, Brendon would be glad to raise a child - even if he was on his own. The guilt in the pit of his stomach was like acid, eating him alive.

"You assumed? You assumed that I would want to raise a child that is mine!" Brendon boomed loudly, quick to show his vexation. His hand pressed against his forehead, harshly rubbing the surface with his palm. He rubbed his temple with his fingers, before starting again. "Okay, okay. What's the name of the child? Better yet, where is the child?" Brendon wanted answers from the woman. He wondered what his or her name was, girl or boy, he'd be happy with either.

"Why do you care? Whatever, her name is Brooke. She's four. . . or something, I forgot. She's in the Miss Ken's home for kids." Sarah answered vaguely, not giving an exact description. Brendon smiled, he admired the name of the four-year-old girl. Brooke. The name of purity, innocence, and love. Brendon always loved the name Brooke, he was happy that was her name in a way. "The orphanage, for some reason, keeps sending me a picture of her, if you want I can send you the photo. But, yeah, she's your daughter, Brendon."

Brendon's jaw tightly locked. "Yes, just send it to me." There was a silent pause as Sarah clicked on her phone. A slight 'there' was she apparently sent the photo to him. Brendon's phone made a vibrating sound, indicating that he received a text message. Brendon then decided that she really wasn't helping him, and he had all the information that she probably knew. Brendon memorized all of what Sarah had just said to him before giving one last jab. "I would say thank you, but I would never thank you for what you've done." He hung up the phone before she could say anything. Brendon frankly didn't care what else she had to say, and quickly slammed down the phone on the coffee table.

Brendon started to pace around the front room of his house. He didn't even realized that he was biting his nails as he thought. His mind blurred and he couldn't think straight. Brendon bit his lip, to hold back a small tear. He wasn't sad, but more angry than anything. He let out an angered growl, while slamming the phone, face-up on the counter. The phone made a clicking sound against the coffee table. Brendon's hand still laid on top of the phone, staring at it. The girl was only four year of age. He felt horrible, he didn't know what to do. Picking his phone, Brendon glanced at the time: 5:56. Brendon was still standing, his nerves making him unable to sit down and calm. Inside of him, he felt anger and sadness growing. He was sad and upset that he wasn't told about his daughter, but he felt like he wanted to be with her. To hug her, to pull her into his arms. He hasn't even seen her yet but he wanted to met her. Would she know who he was? Would she be upset that he wasn't around for her? All these questions, he was dying to know the answer.