Brendon Urie : Trophy Boys, Trophy Wives : 18

"Hold me. " she managed to whisper. What could I do but wrap my arms securely around her shoulders because, right now, I'd do anything for a girl I'm known for barely a week.

Emily, who I felt like I'd known all my life, who seemed absolutely cheerful and hyper onto minutes before, had gone completely depressed in seconds. And, as cruel as it sounded, I liked seeing her like this. Not the sad part. I mean, I'm not psycho or anything. But if it meant I got to see a different side of her while holding her tightly, I was content with the latter.

"Hey, Em?" I cooed, "Try to get some sleep, okay? We have paper thin walls and my parents have bionic ears. They'll think I'm having sex if they hear you."

I swear I heard Emily chuckle. She turned around and pressed her face into my chest.
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I woke up in a frenzy, not knowing where Emily was. Her stuff was still here. Or at least, her watch was still on my nightstand. Had she left it as a keepsake to remember her by? Oh, but how would she ever tell the time?

My body didn't listen to my brain. I wanted to search the house for Emily but my legs, like routine, went straight to the kitchen.

Surrounding the counter was my mother, my sister, and my girlfriend. Awkward, much? Yeah, I thought so too.

"Sonja, is that your brother?" asked Emily, grinning at me.

"Brendon, go change! Your sister has a guest. Be polite, please." my mom scolded.

For a moment, I was confused. I looked at Sonja. "You owe me big time." she mouthed out.

Slowly, I dragged my feet back up the steps. "He's so cute!" I heard Emily squeal. Of course. If we were ever to be caught making out, it was Emily's fault and I had proof.

I still couldn't shake off the weird feeling when I'd returned to the kitchen. My mom didn't really like my friends but I guess it was okay, since for the time being, Emily was Sonja's friend. The non-corrupted child's peers were perfectly acceptable. Go figure.

My mother rushed all three of us into the dining room with a tall plate of pancakes drenched in butter and syrup A.K.A. fat and more fat. Not that I was complaining.

We were seated once my mom left. I held Emily's hand under the table. She didn't seem to mind.

"Will you stop it?" I sighed, fed up with Sonja's staring.

"So," she began, "how long have you two known each other?"

"Can you shut up?" I scoffed.

"About a week." Emily answered earnestly.

"Only a week and you're already bringing her home to meet the family? She must be a keeper." Sonja remarked.

"No," I corrected, "Em didn't have any place to go."

"What?! She's homeless? Emily, you lied about being Pete Wentz's sister?"

I shook my head slowly in silence.

"No, I was at Ryan's house and Pete was too lazy to come and get me. " she said.

"What a great brother he is. I know exactly how you feel. I can't tell you how many times Brendon's forgotten to pick me up from school."

"Tell me about it. He's probably on a flight back to Chicago as we speak."

And just like a sign, Emily's phone rang. "Peter," she huffed. "Hello...I'm at Brendon's...Because you wouldn't come and get me...Walk. It's a pink house only two blocks from Ryan's...Yes, I am aware that you are lazy but it will work off those extra calories...Yes, Peter, I am calling you fat. You are obese. Next time we can work on your abs...Love you too."

She finally hung up on him. The phone rang seconds later but Emily put it on silent.

"That was an interesting conversation you had there." I pointed out. Emily shook her head.

"Nah, just typical."
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Thank youu. :]