This is the story of how they met.

Act I

The party was at it's peak. The spacious mansion set up was very helpful. The stereo was turned up loud enough that it sent vibrations all throughout your body. People were actually dancing in the grand foyer, as opposed to standing around, chatting awkwardly to strangers. The dining hall was decked out with basically everything tasteful. Despite the fact all of the people in the house were between fourteen and eighteen years-old, there was a large selection of alcohol, from things like corner store beer to aged wine. All of the boys were smoking menthols, and the girls were getting back rubs in the room neighboring the foyer. Also in the "back rub room", a flat screen television hangs on the wall blankly, and the source of the vibrations blows drums, guitars, keyboards, and Fall Out Boy all throughout the house. The selection of punk rock was chosen by the ridiculously rich boy whose parents were out for the weekend. He was in charge of the place. Of course, his best friend is just walking around aimlessly. Brendon was holding onto an empty red cup, just trying to fit in, even though most people considered him better than them, since he was so close to "that super rich kid". Almost everyone was trying to talk to him, or get to him somehow. But he continued to stroll the house alone. His best friend stopped him as he made his way toward the kitchen. He was loud, excited, and a little bit wasted.
"Hey, dude! How's the party going for ya?!" Spencer yelled at him, despite being directly next to him. It was that loud in the Smith manor.
"It's cool, I guess. I haven't really done much but wander." Brendon shouted back, looking around at the crazed teenagers surrounding them. "Where's Ryan?"
Ryan is Spencer Smith's younger, adopted brother. He is almost fifteen, two years less than Spencer. Ryan had kept his surname; it was all he had left of his mother. He had an awful childhood, and ended up running away from his alcoholic and abusive father, who had murdered his mother, when he was only ten years-old. There was a Catholic orphanage that took him in, even though he was not Catholic. They raised him on religious beliefs, but he never listened. The people there tried to insure that he was raised properly and well. And he was. After the Smiths became rich, they grew ecstatic, and wanted another child. Mrs. Smith did not want to go through child birth again, so they adopted a thirteen year-old boy. It's not like the just chose some random kid. They had Spencer visit daily, so he could make friends with someone, and that's who they would adopt. Spencer was a social boy, and Ryan was the biggest introvert for miles, so for them to become such good friends within a week was insane. Spencer instantly looked for the saddest looking kid, the boy sitting in corner, keeping to himself. Ryan rejected Spencer with intolerance, but Spencer did not go away. He visited the quiet boy in the corner daily, and Ryan quickly became extremely attached to him. Spencer would help with homework, interacting, and give advice. At the end of the week, Ryan walked with Spencer to the door, where his parents would pick him up. Spencer toyed with him, and said that he wasn't ready to decide on a sibling yet. Upset, but understanding, Ryan hugged him tightly before he left. Spencer hugged him back and smiled successfully, and nodded after receiving the "Is this the one?" look from his parents. So ever since that day, Ryan Ross was apart of a new and caring family.
"No idea! I have spent the majority of my own party looking for my own little brother."
"He could just be in the mosh somewhere."
"But that might be dangerous for him!"
"... Dude, he is seriously almost fifteen. I think he can handle being bumped around a bit."
"But... still! He's my bro! I want to look out for him." Brendon shook his head. Spencer cared for Ryan a little too much sometimes.
"Well, whatever, I'm heading back out. Wish me luck?" Brendon yelled again.
"Good luck! Tell Ryan to find me if you see him!" "Yeah, yeah...!"
He made his way through the crowd, searching carefully for Ryan. Brendon saw no sight of him, then decided to try checking the "back rub room", navigating through the smoke and girls. He looked all over the place, and nothing. While he was searching, he came across a pack of cigarettes on one of the speakers. Brendon was surprised that they hadn't been shaken off yet. He picked them up and noticed a picture of a girl on the back. She was beautiful, in a bitter kind of way. She had flowing blonde hair tossed to one side, shining white teeth, black lining her eyes with a wing tip, and glowing, deep blue eyes. The picture was printed on an old Polaroid, the words "Find this girl!" written on the bottom. Brendon was about to shrug it off and continue hunting for the boy when a voice screamed from behind. He turned around, and it was the girl from the photo. Except she looked a little different.
"So you're the one who found me." He was wearing a confused expression. "Yeah, we only had that photo from a long time ago. That hair dye is long gone." Her hair was a dark brown. Besides that, she looked exactly the same. She was quite a gorgeous girl in Brendon's mind.
"Thank God, you're hot." She brushed the bit hair from his eyes and cupped his cheek. When she touched him, he turned ruby red.
"I-I'm confused..." He never stuttered. Never.
"Long story. Let's go somewhere quieter."
"You mean China?"
"Hah, you're funny! I like you." She smiled with her perfectly aligned teeth. "I meant somewhere more... private."
"... Okay."
Her hands were manicured, but that didn't define how tight her grip was. Brendon had red marks on his wrist by the time they made it to a bedroom. She slammed the door behind them. The girl whipped her phone out and quickly sent out a mass text. The boy was too focused on his wrist to notice her texting. But when she pulled her top off, that grabbed his attention. She was wearing a pale yellow camisole underneath, and laughed as she saw him staring.
"It was getting way too hot in here." The bed bounced as the fell down on it, and patted next to her, offering him to sit. He did.
"Do you want your explanation now?"
"I do."
"Okay." She stretched her arms, arching her back. Brendon tried to not look at her chest the best he could. "Well, we were playing Truth or Dare, and someone dared me to tape my photo to a pack of cigarettes, and leave it for some drug addict to find it."
Out of no where, before Brendon could comprehend what he had just heard, she kissed him. Brendon was more than stunned when she pulled her tongue of out his mouth. His heart was racing and his face was heating.
"Except you don't taste like smoke. You don't smoke, do you?"
He shook his head, eyes widen, feeling his lips awkwardly.
"Then why pick up cigarettes? Were you going to start?"
He shrugged, still unable to speak.
"Huh. Okay. But yeah. They said that the person who picked it up, boy or girl, I had to make out with. Not really a long story, but it was very loud downstairs anyway."
He was still too stunned to listen.
"Are you even listening?"
Surprisingly, that was his first kiss. At least, he thinks that was considered a kiss. He had girlfriends in the past, but never any close enough to kiss. He wanted his first kiss to mean something, from someone he loved. Not some random girl who did it because of a dare.
"Hello?"
He didn't even know this girl's name! She just pulled him away from an audience. It could've been anybody she pulled out. It wouldn't made any difference. His first kiss was wasted on this girl! That's not even fair! Everyone else gets to choose their first kiss. So why couldn't he?!
"I will kiss you again if you don't respond to me."
"Huh? What?" Brendon's train of thought crashed, and now he has to deal with a train wreck.
"Listen this time!" She re-explained herself. Brendon threw his head in his hands.
"That's ridiculous! Who are you?!"
"Sarah."
"Just Sarah?"
"Just Sarah."
"Okay, Sarah, hate to break it to you, but I don't want to make out with you. Or kiss you. Or touch you."
"Really? Cause you seem to like it when I touch you." She ran her hand down his arm. His face warmed again. He got chills. His heart sped up. His stomach filled with butterflies. He hates how she has that kind of effect on him. She smirked at him.
"How cute are you." She went to kiss him again, but he jumped up before she could get near him.
"No. I'm done. Sorry, Sarah, but you lose this dare."
"No! Come on, that'll ruin my rep!"
"Tell them that I didn't want to make out with a stranger."
"But I can always convince strangers to make out with me! That's my rep!"
"... That's kind of pathetic, Sarah, but the point is still there. I'm sorry." He headed for the door, but first, she asked him something. A simple question.
"Before you go, what do they call you?"
"Brendon. Just Brendon." And he was out the door. There was a small group of people huddled around the door, all looking very shocked.
"... What the even are you- ...Ugh." He began toward the stairs.
"Brendon, wait!" She called out to him.
"God, what? Sarah?"
"You said we are strangers. We are. So let's not be strangers. Come back, and we can talk."
Silence. As silent as a loud house could be. Brendon flipped his head to the side, his hair covering an eye. He scanned the group of people (after brushing the hair away to access a full view), just in case Ryan was there. Thank God, he wasn't. He glanced at Sarah, then behind him. And there the boy was. Little Ryan Ross. He was standing on the stairs, drinking something that was more than likely alcoholic, talking to one of his guy friends.
"Ryan!" He didn't hear him. Brendon tried louder. "RYAN!" Still nothing. Now, he had to make a decision. Return a lost kit to his family, or to run off with a fox. And he didn't have much time to choose. Sarah was getting impatient, and Ryan could dissolve into the crowd at any time. Furious with Sarah, his first instinct was Ryan, but she must have cursed him with her black magic, because he didn't want to do that anymore. Brendon knew what he was about to do, and he would regret it, but went for it anyway.
"Ugh, Sarah!" She perked up, waiting for a response. "Just... stay there! I'll be back in a few minutes..." He grumbled at the end, but Sarah managed to understand, and went back into the room. After confirming that she would be waiting for him in the bedroom, he jumped down the steps.
"Ryan!" He said, now directly next to him. Ryan turned away from his friend, and smiled at Brendon.
"Oh, hey, B-don." Ryan had some how came up with that ridiculous nickname, that Brendon loved, because it made him feel closer to Ryan, and hated, because it is so stupid and annoying.
"Spencer is tearing this place apart trying to find you."
"... Ugh, really?" Ryan rubbed his face in irritation and concern. "Can you just... tell him I'm fine, and to enjoy the party?"
"No." Brendon forcefully took the sleeve of Ryan's white button down shirt and pulled him down the stairs.
"Hey!" Ryan almost spilled his drink everywhere. "I'll be back in a bit, Jon!" Jon Walker was one of Ryan's best friends, introduced to him by his brother, who was trying to get Ryan to be more social when they started school together. Jon was a younger acquaintance of Spencer, and they had known each other for a few years, talking only a few times. Spencer knew was a good guy with similar interests as Ryan, so they were brought together. It turned out pretty damn well.
Ryan tore himself away, as he accepted that there was no choice except to go to his brother. They quickly found Spencer, still looking for his brother, in the kitchen, for what was probably the sixth time.
"Yo, Spence, I've finally captured the princess!"
Ryan rolled his eyes.
Spencer turned toward three incorrect directions, until finding the one where the two were located. He yelled Ryan's named and ran to hug him.
"DUDE I WAS SO CONCERNED."
"Yeah, I got that. Can I go now?" Ryan's arms weren't around Spencer, and he had a lack of air due to him. Spencer released him and instantly became to twist him around, checking for any cuts or bruises.
"Spence." Ryan was experiencing the perfect combination of embarrassment and annoyance. He saw a few people look and try to stifle laughs (some didn't have the courtesy) and felt his face warming up. Brendon was laughing to himself. He lives for these moments.
Spencer finally noticed his cup, and gave Ryan a look.
"I'm not any less legal than you are!"
"Yes you are." Ryan had his beverage confiscated with a groan.
"You're ridiculous, Spencer!"
"Shut up and stay safe." He pulled him into another hug. "Love-"
"DUDE THERE ARE PEOPLE AROUND STOP IT." Ryan shook him off, and ran back to Jon.
"BE CAREFUL THERE ARE PEOPLE AROUND." There was a subtle "Shut up" in the distance. Brendon finally let his laughter free.
"That was great." Spencer walked over to him.
"... Was that too much?"
"Yes, yes it was, but don't stop, you're doing great, man." Spencer looked at Brendon confused, shrugged it off, told his friend "Well, see you", and walked off. It may not seem like, but Ryan really did care for his brother. Spencer would always be his best friend. But he still found his over protective factor quite annoying. Brendon recovered, forgetting what to do next. After mild thinking, he remember the disaster he had to take care of. He was in a slightly better mood now, and went back to Just Sarah.
When Brendon is in a good mood, he has a habit of turning everything he says into a poem. It was a pretty odd thing. He went upstairs and knock on the door three times.
"Open the door to your story, your plot twist wants in." Sarah cautiously opened the door with a crooked smile.
"Brendon? Is that you in there?"
"Oh, yes, it is. I just have had a delightful swing in my aura." He swayed passed her, dropping onto the mattress. Sarah shut the door and went to check his temperature with a hand to his forehead. He just had on an innocent smile.
"I think you have the weirdo fever. Yikes."
"It's nothing I can't sweat out."
"No, weirdo fever is a fever you can't sweat out."
"Ah, well. I will have to build a bridge." He fell back against the bed. "Have you ever noticed how stunning you are?"
"I have not." She sat down by his knees, looking back at him.
"Well, you deserve to." He sat up to stare her down with a grin. He moved his face in closer, causing there to be a very small gap between them. "You're the painting that was the artist's best work, but never gained the attention it merited. And that's despairing." Brendon kissed her for a few seconds. He didn't know what was going on, but part of him was glad it was. Sarah pulled back, giving him a strange, joyful expression.
"Are you drunk?"
"Sorry, darling, I don't drink." He returned to a normal distance. "Often." Sarah waited for more, then chuckled.
"I like 'delighted aura' you better than normal you."
"Please. You barely are acquainted with either." She shrugged.
"Can I get to know them?"
"At a cost."
"Which is?"
"To be announced, sweetheart." He pushed himself off the bed, Sarah quickly following.
"Young man, where do you think you're going?" He turned on his heel, located the iPhone sticking from her back pocket. With a single swift movement, he took hold of her cell and tapped in his number. A girl like this sure lock her phone, Brendon thought. Sarah didn't reach for it back instantly. She felt a strange trust toward him.
"Don't know, doesn't matter." Once she took back her phone, she dropped it onto the carpet. Brendon had swung her around, leaning over, kissing her. Her leg accidentally flew up in the most cliché manner, but she had never kissed her like that, and she was determined to enjoy the jolt of energy it sent through her body, no matter what it took. Brendon stood them both back up straight, and almost instantly walked out on a dizzy girl.
"Well, see you whenever, honey." The bedroom door shut by a confused but pleasureful Brendon, and on a satisfied Sarah.