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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Panic! At The Disco

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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Now Or Never
By fishingnuns

 


A.N I'm really hoping this fixed it, this is my third time posting it. :S All I remember was that damn cologne. We'd been friends for years, so I was quite used to it, but after that day it haunted my dreams. You see, I grew up in Las Vegas, Nevada. Now don't start imagining some blonde, super skinny or super busty pole dancer or anything, that's not what I am. Looking back, maybe that would have made my life better. Or worse. I'm not sure. Anyways, I've always been pretty slim - slim enough that a bra is almost always overkill. I'm really short too, only 5”2. I have red hair, which makes me a victim on “kick a ginger” day, and I am almost always blushing. Maybe this has made my life better. Or worse. I'm not sure. Anyways, back to my story. I actually grew up in a town called Summerlin, but it's close enough to Vegas that I consider it part. Maybe this makes everything better. Or worse. I'm not sure. Since that day I haven't been sure about anything. But anyways, I grew up with these two boys, Spencer and Ryan, and everything was great, we got along like - well, three things that go perfectly together. Anyways, they started a band in senior year with our friends Brent and Brendon, you may have heard about it; Panic At The Disco has become pretty huge. Maybe that makes life better. Or worse. I'm not sure. Well I'll start with the day I met Brendon Urie. The group was walking home from assorted sports and lessons, Ryan from guitar, Spencer from Soccer, and me from a photography workshop, when we all ran into each other the way home - we were all neighbors, Spencer and Ryan next to each other and me across the street. Well, that fateful afternoon we all managed to bump into each other. “Hey Jen! WHAZZUP?!” Spencer yelled from down the street. Me being a bit of a tom boy at this point yelled back, just as exuberantly. “Not bad Spence! How was buttsex in the changeroom?!” I yelled. Spencer blushed, he hated when I joked that he was gay. Ryan was being really quiet, as per usual, so we didn't notice that he was walking with someone new, a total stranger. He was really hot, in a geeky-supermodel kind of way. I was shamelessly checking him out when I got close enough to smell his cologne. Oh that damn cologne. I tell you, it was what got me right from the start. I looked up into his face - it must have been 8 inches above mine at the time, and found that he was looking down into mine. I blushed, which either made my life better or worse, I'm not sure which. “I'm Brendon.” He said simply, which made my heart feel weird - It was probably the fumes from his cologne - that damn cologne. “I'm Jennifer.” I murmured, turning even redder and looking down at my shoes. Spencer teasingly poked me in the side and Ryan started singing, he hadn't even started talking yet, and he burst into SONG! Oh Ryan, that's the boy I remember. “WHEN THE MOOOON HITS YOUR EYE, LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE, OHHH THAT'S AMORE!” He belted out. Ryan had a great voice. Still does, in fact. I remember when he used to be so free with it, but shyness really got him later on. I guess the spotlight makes a person choose an extreme, become a total ham or a total mouse. I guess that makes life better for them, or worse. I'm really not sure. “Shut up GEORGE.” I said, before elbowing him in his impossibly small waist. I swear, even Ryan has a more womanly figure than me. I guess that's not so hard though, all you need is a defined waist to beat me on that count. Anyways. So Brendon and I had a nice conversation, and I left completely love struck. I knew this boy was the one for me. Well, I guess I thought so, since it definitely didn't end up that way. After we all met up, we decided to hang out in Spencer's basement, like normal. We ordered some pizza, and started playing some Mario on the old school Nintendo. Soon the hour we had planned turned into like, ten hours. Ryan and I had parents who were used to this, but when Brendon called his dad I heard yelling. He was told not to come home that night at all. Spencer and Ryan couldn't put him up, so I snuck him into my room, he slept on the floor. After that, my pillow smelled so strongly of his cologne. That Damn Cologne. It got into my system, and started working on me. This was when we were all about 15, mind you. Why did a 15-year-old boy need cologne? Especially one so seductive and great. The point of that part of the story was to tell you how it got to me, how I got to be the way I was. So in the years that followed- two of them to be exact, I stayed the same, barely even changing my hair, while Brendon just got hotter and hotter and hotter! He was beating of girls with a club, basically, while no boys would notice me. In truth, he had become quite the player, but I was blind to it. At some point we had become great friends, I was his “alibi” when he was cheating on someone, or when his dad wanted to know where he was going - he would tell his father that I was converting to Mormonism, which was far from the truth. At this point Panic At The Disco started. And the five of us would spend time in the practice space, I would critique their music and I even convinced them to send it to Pete Wentz. I guess you could say I made them happen. That made life better for us all, I guess. Or worse. I'm not entirely sure. Three days before Pete came to see them live, Ryan, Brendon and I graduated from high school. We spent the night partying hard, and I got so drunk I could barely walk. The only thing I remember from that night was his cologne. That damn cologne had haunted me from day one, and I was sick of wondering. This point may have made my future better. Or worse. I'm not really sure. After drinking a few more coolers for `courage' I headed over to where Brendon was standing all alone for once in his damn life. Almost immediately I was filled with the scent of that damn cologne. “Why don't you love me?” I drunkenly shouted, my intoxicated voice slurring. He responded something I don't remember, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright room. The covers were on me, but kicked off of my partner. That's right, I had not woken up alone. There was also a tell tale pain in my lower half, and a lack of clothing on us both. I had gotten drunk, and slept with Brendon. It really made things worse. Or better. I don't know. All I know is, that `mistake' I made five years ago had some serious repercussions. Brendon was the first - and last - man I had sex with and so I have no doubts that Emily is his daughter. And this is how I got to this point. For the record, I'm standing on Spencer's front porch, with my three-year-old daughter clasping one hand, and a bag with clothes, and numerous Palahniuk novels in it. After I knock twice, the door swings open, and a much taller, much beard-ier Spencer flings open the door. “JEN! IT'S BEEN WAY TOO LONG!” He shrieked, and pulled me into a huge bear hug. “Come in, come in!” I walk in, Emily in tow, and sarcastically say “So much for not forgetting the little people,” and then, on a happier note” Holy shit, Smith, nice place. You really have gone places!” He looked at me weirdly, he must have noticed Emily. “All thanks to you babe!” he said truthfully, and then finally “Who's brat?” “Well, she's mine.” I say, thinking that he must see the eyes and lips and know who the father is. “And don't be ashamed. I wouldn't give her up for the world!” `That's good hun - she looks just like you. Too bad she got your ginger hair too!” I playfully punch him in the arm - it's just like the old days again. “Shut up! Redheads are all the rage these days. “ We walked into a giant living room and looked at each other. We ran for the bean bag chair in the center - the remnants of the game room in his old basement, leaving Emily standing at the door, confusion in her young eyes. Those damn eyes. After a moment I sense a presence behind me - Spencer never thought to tell me there were others over. I didn't know who it was, and then I smelled it. That damn cologne. His cologne. That cologne either made my life a lot better, or a lot worse. I'm not sure which. “Hello Brendon.” I murmured, the years have given me a lot of baggage, so my voice is full of emotions that can't be defined. “Hey Jen.” Is his simple reply. He doesn't have a clue about Emily, so I walk to the door, pick her up and bring her over. “This is Emily. My daughter” I put a bit of possessiveness on the “my” part. I don't want him taking my baby away. “Hello Emily.” He says in a small voice. He looks at her face and then looks back to me, speechless. “Well, our daughter.” I expand, and he looks at me with shock in his eyes. “She has my eyes.” He says, still shocked. “Emily, we have a damn CHILD and you didn't think to tell me over the past three years?” He is getting mad, and I pull Emily away from him. I cover her ears. “Shut up. SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP. YOU STUPID PRICK.” I am getting mad was well now. “You never even called. You slept with me when I was drunk and you never even called me. Well damn you if you think that entitles you to know about Emily.” “She's my BABY, Jen. I deserved to know.” “Whatever Brendon, when you walked out that morning with the stupid apologetic look in your eyes, you lost all rights.” “It was because… well, because… well….” He keeps starting and stalling, and this really pisses me off. “Just say it Brendon. You regretted it. And that's fine.” I plead, this is making my desperate, and tears brim in my eyes. “Because you don't just bang the girl you love for the first time when you're both drunk!” He yells, and I am caught completely off guard. “The girl you…. Love?” I query, and he nods. I run into his arms, and Emily is squished between us. “I love you too Brendon, from the first time I met you.” He leans down and kisses my head, and warmth rushes to my face. “I guess there's only one thing we can do now. Let's see how it goes.” Brendon says softly as I lean my chin up to kiss his lips and get a whiff of that cologne, that damn cologne. I guess this is going to make my life a whole lot better, or worse. I really don't know yet, but all I have to say now is, thank God for that damn cologne.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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