Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time- B.U. #wattys2016

21 | midnight city

I rode down the highway trying to forget everything that happened. I just needed to drive. I had been driving for two days, only stopping to get gas and use the restroom. The top of the red convertible was down and I embraced the wind. My baby was gone and no one cared about me. I wanted to live a new life, I apparently just lied to stay with Brendon. I laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of that statement and my laughs slowly turned into cries. Fuck the fans, fuck Brendon, I just wanted my god damn baby.

I ran my fingers through my greasy hair and thought how disgusting I looked, but I couldn't have cared less.

The wind lashed against my face, and I could feel tears streak down my face. I pressed the gas peddle harder and went faster down the highway.

Fuck everyone, I thought to myself. I could've had a family, I lost my son. Or what I think was my son. I took a deep breath and placed the sunglasses on my face. The large lenses covered up any hint of my sadness.

My hair whipped around and I decreased my speed. I needed to sleep, take a shower. I hadn't eaten anything in nearly two days, just drank water bottles. My stomach grumbled and I pulled into the nearest restaurant, an IHOP.

I looked up to the blue sign and shut my eyes. I shut off the car. The memories of Brendon and I coming here flooded in my mind. I had no idea then I would be in love with him as much as I was. I had no idea I would be pregnant, and then childless, within a moment of time. I was so innocent back then.

I turned the car back on, my stomach would have to wait. I wasn't going to eat there of all places. I didn't want to be associated with Brendon Urie, with anyone.

I drove to the nearest liquor store and bought a bottle of Jack Daniels. The bottle would be sufficient for tonight. I took a swing and got into the car.

I looked at the ring, the way it sparkled, the way it flashed. I groaned at slipped it off my finger. I drove to a motel and rented a room. I sat on the bed and swigged a big drink from the bottle.

I played with the ring and moved it between my fingers. I sat at the cheep wooden table set and rolled it around on the table. After a few minutes I scoffed and got up from the table leaving my ring there. I took a long swing from my bottle and looked at my phone. Things were getting fuzzy, I shouldn't drive. I bit my lip and called the nearest pizza place. They said that it would be here in about half an hour.

I laid in bed and cried about my son, my poor baby. He'd never get to see the light of day. He'd never be born. He'd never get to have a girlfriend. Never have children. He'd never get to grow up. He was never here to begin with. I had only knew of him when my period was irregular and I took a pregnancy test. I read that you should wait at least three months before you should tell anyone, in case of a miscarriage. I waited for the day to tell him about his son, our son. Then I lost him. It was my fault. I cried bitter tears.

I heard a knock at the door and I got up and went to the door. The pizza guy.

"Oh shit, you're Melanie Taylor," The boy who looked about my age at the door exclaimed when I opened the door.

"That's me," I replied bitterly. I looked like a mess and I wanted to be anyone else but Melanie Taylor.

"My name is Will, I love your fiance's band!" He was excited to see me.

"Cool," I was uninterested in talking to this boy. He could sense my rudeness and really seemed to notice the state I was in.

"Are you okay? I heard about your child," He asked me quietly.

I laughed bitterly, "I was going to be a mom and now no one wants me."

"Brendon wants you," he told me.