His Expensive Mistake

Prologue

Brendon’s P.O.V

“Leave Brendon! Just get away from me and the baby!” She yells. Baby? What baby?

“What baby!?” I ask, confused at the whole situation.

“Our baby stupid! I hate you! You could never be a father to a child. You screw up everything Urie, everything!” She says backing me up to the counter. “You never are here for me! You run away to escape your little problems in that studio with your buddies. Well guess what? This is a big problem now and you caused it. You are the reason you will never touch this child until I die.”

“Why the fuck would you not tell me you're pregnant! Goddamnit Clarissa!” I yell. She didn't like me raising my voice one bit because she grabbed a wine bottle and swung it over my head.

I felt myself drop as my mind becomes fuzzy with my vision blurring and my balance failing my legs. My ears start to ring as she bends down to me lying on the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

“You wouldn't want me to hurt you again would you? Huh?” She says barely above a whisper. The ringing growing louder. I let out a breath saying no. I let a tear fall as she stands up.

“You could never be a father. You run away from your problems so I'm just helping you with this one. You better be out by six AM tomorrow, Todd will be coming and he wont like you being here.” She says as she walks back over to me. “I'm simply just helping you run away from the problem.”

Everything went black.

I wake up panting. A dream? More like a flashback. I laid back flat and rubbed my eyes. Then the  massive headache started. I stared at the ceiling letting my eyes fill with tears till one fell. I sat up and wiped my face got dressed. I walked down stairs where I found bottles of beer in the sink; trash all over the counter. I grabbed advil and downed it with water. I felt nauseous and shaky. I sat on the couch and got a text.

Zack: Hey buddy. I'm 5 mins away also we need to talk when I get there. It's been awhile. Cya soon!

Oh shit the house is a mess. I started panicking.

“D-don't worry I-I'll clean it. I-I’m sorry, I didn't mean t-to make a mess.It'll be clean soon. P-please i'll finish it! Just no harm today! I have to go out later Clarissa.” I whisper to myself as I clean the living room and hurrying over to the kitchen.

The doorbell rings as I drop a beer bottle onto the floor.

There is a knock at the door and I scramble to fix the mess.

“Brendon?”

“Yeah just a minute Zack!”  I grab a broom knocking down a bottle in the process breaking another.

“Are you good? What was that? I'm coming in.”

I quickly try to clean it up not being to speak as air gets caught in my throat.

“Woah..” Zack says.

I turned to him and felt embarrassed. I fucked up again dammit! “Uh.. I..”

“What's goin on.. You don't look to good Brendon.” He says.

“Nothing I have been fine why what's up?”

“So, we just going to pretend there aren't twenty beers in your sink, and broken bottles on the ground?”

I felt so out of place. Drinking away my problems isn't right I know, but everytime I think of her I can't escape it.

“Hey let's sit down okay?” He says motioning me to the couch. I nod and walked over.

I explained to him the dreams/flashbacks the pain I still feel. He just let me cry in front of him, I felt weak.

“Hey it's okay? Alright? I have some news though and I don't know if you want to hear it right now. Sorry let me rephrase that for you, I don't know if you can handle it right now. Brendon this isn't good, you need to talk to someone about this.” Zack sighs as I refuse to lift my gaze from the ground beneath my feet.

“It's hard though Zack goddamnit it's been 16 years, and I can't get over the damn thing. I'm a father, but I'm not because that poor kid is with that abusive bitch!” I say pacing the living room.

“Listen how about you start going to see a therapist? I knew it was bad but Brendon I think you're relapsing. Let's go see one tomorrow morning? Your old one okay?” He says.

“No Im fine! I'm perfectly fine. I don't need to see a therapist!” I say trying to convince myself more than him.

“Brendon we are going okay?” Zack demands.

“Fine.” I say kicking the sofa. “Oh, son of a bitch!” I yell grabbing my foot. Mental note do not kick the damn sofa.

“Okay buddy, sit down we need to talk seriously.” Zack says, as I sit back onto the couch. I rub my eyes and drink the rest of my water bottle. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind him. Dark bags under my eyes, my hair was a mess, my lips were dry and I looked pale as hell. I screamed hell.

“Yeah?”

“First off, music.” I stopped and looked down. I had a whole bunch of music I was writing about how I had been feeling. I just never told anyone because I felt it was to personal. “You haven't been in the studio in a while, you are in no position to. You need to recover. I mean because well let's be real Brendon, you aren't doing to good right now.”

I look up to him and nodded. My gaze drifting straight to the floor beneath my feet.

This is my life. It’s probably a good thing I’m not a father, I’d screw it up at the first chance I had. “What was that news you were going to tell me?” I ask as I slump myself down on the couch where I have spent my last few days, thinking about why I am even here.

“Brendon I-” Zack begins but I cut him off, staring up at his meaningful eyes as they stare at me.

“Save it Zack, I want to hear it. What is the news?” I question as many different things Zack could possibly reply with spin round in my head like a tornado waiting to be released.

Zack sighs before taking a seat in the chair opposite me. “Brendon, it’s about your child.” Zack pauses as I jolt to my feet, edging closer. “He was found living alone, social services were in touch and wondered whether you’d consider taking him in- I mean they’d have to keep him for awhile until all the paperwork is filled out and the necessary checks are complete.”

“I’d be an awful father, Zack.” I place my head in my hands. “For crying out loud Zack, the kid doesn’t even know me, and probably hates me for leaving him with her.”

“I’m sure the kid doesn’t hate you Brendon. I think you’d be a great father, a miraculous one, it’d give you something to aim towards- something you know you have to take care of, it might ease you up a bit on your drinking…” Zack says drifting off the quickly lets off an assuring smile as he places his giant hand on my left shoulder. “His name is Wilson, he’s fifteen-years-old.”

I sit and wonder for a moment about what it would be like to be a father, to have something that needs taking care of, to have someone who relies on you, to have someone you can love and call your child. In my mind, it seems rather nice; but is it really that pleasant? Is parenthood really that enjoyable?