Chapter Three

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Josh's POV

I can't believe it. Is he? Could he be- No, Josh, it's just a coincidence. There's thousands of people in the world with those exact initials. 

But my brain couldn't help but wander in that direction. He was just so good looking, with that chocolate brown quiff, gorgeous eyes and a perfectly proportioned body. If we had met in a club, I would've jumped him without hesitation.

Wow, thirsty much? 

As I pondered the gorgeous barista, my feet automatically directed me to my workplace, also known as the palace of Satan. That's my boss, the ever-irritating Brendon Urie.

Cocky as hell, with an amazing body, and a face to match, he picked up around five different girls every night. That's the thing though, they never stayed longer than a night.

"You alright?" Elisa smiled to me as I passed her receptionist's desk. She's a sweetheart, and I'm good friends with her and her boyfriend, Patrick.

"I'm okay, Ellie, how are you?" She shrugged, our code for 'I hate this job please save me.' I shot her a smirk, and strolled into the large office I share with Debby, my best friend and fellow social media consultant.

"Joshhhhh!" she squealed and ran into me, all a blur of dark hair and bright red lipstick. She's possibly the prettiest girl I've ever met, a fact which has caused Brendon to chase after her relentlessly.

Unfortunately for him, she is quite loyal to Spencer, her boyfriend, who works for a publishing company and is completely devoted to her. They're adorable together.

"Hey Debs. How's things?"

"Ugh, Brendon's been hitting on me again. I honestly don't know how he doesn't get the damn message." She sighed, her small body slumped, as she fell into her cushy chair. 

"I'll beat him up for you if you want." We laughed, knowing that I'm about as threatening as a baby butterfly, even if I am somewhat muscular. 

"Yeah, I need my big, bad, floral-shirt-wearing Josh Dun to protect me." She gave me a big grin, and we slowly settled into the monotony that happened to be a day working at Urie Corporations. Yeah, it was actually called that. I know, self-centred much? 

"DUN!" Speak of the devil... The wonderfully awful voice screeched through the offices. Debby gave me a sympathetic look, and I got up from my chair, resigning to face the wrath of the evil man.

"Yes, sir?" I tried to inject as much confident sarcasm as possible into my voice, but either he didn't notice, or didn't care. He gave me a sardonic grin, indicating that my task would not be a pleasant one.

"Mr. Peter Wentz needs a presentation on the benefits of Urie Corp. and its presence in social media. A good one." Ugh, great. More boring businessmen who only want to line their pockets and pick up girls 15 years younger than them.

"Of course, sir. Anything else?" 

"He needs it by tomorrow, 9am sharp." Wow, Brendon, really outshone yourself there in terms of being an absolute douchebag. I may have to reevaluate how I view the rest of the human race, as this abomination can't possibly be one of us.

"Great. Thanks, Brendon." I strode out of his office, hoping to exhibit my clear superiority and higher sass level over him.

"That's Mr. Urie to you!" He exclaimed. I giggled softly, ignoring him as I reached my office, and collapsed into my chair with laughter. Debby giggled at how irritated our boss had gotten. Oh, to be working here at Urie Corp. What a treat.

~~~~~

The day passed, and the incident with the guy from earlier slowly slipped out of my brain. That was, of course, until the end of the workday, when Debby was picked up by Spencer.

He grabbed her, gave her a massive hug, and I was painfully reminded of my ever-nearing deadline, and the increasing likelihood of me never finding my soulmate.

Oh, and my imminent painful death.

I walked home, luckily avoiding any mishaps, and let myself into my small apartment. Home sweet home. Once changed, I opened my laptop, playing music and scrolling endlessly through Tumblr.

As I went to make my dinner, I realised that I didn't have any chicken for my Caesar salad. After grabbing my keys, I jogged to the little supermarket down my street, and went straight to the pre-cooked chicken strips, I was a businessman, not a chef.

I grabbed a package, and headed straight for the checkout. I paid, and walked outside, relishing in the chilly, yet refreshing, autumn air. Obviously, me being me, I didn't look where I was going, and walked straight into someone. 

"Oops, I'm so sorry, I completely wasn't looking where I was going!" Blushing, I looked up at the person I had ran into. He seemed familiar, and it was only when I looked into his magnificent hazelnut eyes, that I realised who it was. Tyler, the barista. 

A few strands of hair had fallen into my face, and he lifted up his hand to move them. As his hand lifted up, I saw his tattoo.

It shouldn't have been possible. I shouldn't have noticed. He should've just walked away and I should have never seen him again.

But I had seen it, and it was real, and it was there, inked onto his pale alabaster skin.

J.W.D.

Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

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