Strictly Business // Brendon Urie

-55-

It's been a couple months, a little over three, since I met back up with Brendon in the hospital.

If we are being honest, I thought that after word got out about him being unable to walk, that his star level would drop from its original rank four placement, to at least a two, but it's been the complete opposite. Everyone loves him even more, they consider him to be some sort of noble hero, when I don't really see it that way at all. He is more whiny and demanding at home, and he gets pretty frustrated with anything really. It's even worse at his physical therapy sessions. He throws stuff at his instructor and calls her names, which I find myself often apologizing for in the end.

Also, there is no sex life anymore. Remember when he said something along the lines of, "Let's see if being cripple will stop me from doing what I do best?" Yeah, well, it sort of did. I did all the work, which I was fine with, but he really didn't like it. He didn't like the fact that I had the control, and that he couldn't feel it.

Now, he can feel it. He is out of the wheelchair and using canes to get around. He has 80% feeling back below the waist, and his penis uses up most of it. You would think this sends him straight back into the game, but that's not the case.

"Brendon, I'm going out. See you later." I hollered through the house, hoping Brendon would pick it up so I didn't have to see him. He's been treating me like shit lately, and I'm fed up with it, but every time I address it he pulls the 'Cripple' card, and you can't argue with that.

"Wait!" He called, making me stop half way through the door. I stepped back in, closing the door behind me, rolling my eyes.

I could hear his cane tap on the floor as he walked slowly down to hall, probably holding onto the walls as he went. "You need me to help?" I asked, walking over to the front of the small corridor entrance. "No, I'm fine." He said quickly, being stubborn as always, he never wanted help. He even dressed himself, which is still surprising to me that he can all on his own, but that doesn't matter right now.

"I love you." I said softly, hoping to town down the aggravated expression plastered on his face. "I love you too. Grab some paperwork from the office on your way home." He said, not very passionate about it. It seemed like a task for him to tell me that he loves me now, which leads me to believe he simply doesn't anymore.

I like to tell myself he doesn't blame me for the shooting, but I know he does, deep inside I know he does. If he didn't he would still get happy to see me, he would still kiss me every chance he got, and want me the way he used to.

"Okay, goodbye." I said, sort of cowering into my own little imaginary shell.

He just nodded and turned around, going back to where ever he was before.

I drove off, not really sure where I could go. I've been doing this a lot recently, leaving without knowing a destination. Anything to get away from Brendon, really.

Don't get me wrong, I still love him. I love him with every aching bone in my body, and if we separated I'd be a fucking mess. But, the new Brendon is someone I don't want to be around, or talk to. He's like alcohol, a depressant, you can't help but drink it to have fun for a little while, yet it all goes down hill.

I decided on a casino. I know it's a weird place to go right now, but you can smoke and drink inside, and get lucky if you have it in you. I don't, but again, why the hell not?

Oh, and I never really dropped the smoking habit. I know, it's bad, and I hate myself for it, but what they say is true. It's an addiction.

I parked at the casino. This Vegas casino made every other casino look like a Chucky Cheese. Everyone talked about it, and raved about it for the longest time now, and I've never been.