I entered the seemingly abandoned coffee shop. It appeared quaint and cozy as I looked at the dim lighting hitting a red fluffy couch with two matching arm chairs in front of a table littered with magazines. There were window seats with a few throw pillows, several regular tables with about three chairs per table, and even a couple of booths.

Inhaling threw my nose, the smell of fresh brewed coffee hit me. I pulled out an ear bud that was blaring "Ballad of Mona Lisa" by Panic! At The Disco. I timidly walked up to the counter where a woman with gray hair pulled back in a bun reveal a seemingly sweet grandma. "What can I get you, Miss?"

I looked up at the menu through my (h/l), (h/c) bangs, keeping my head slightly hung, "May I have a vanilla frap with extra cream?" I asked loud enough for her to hear.

"Sure thing, Sweet heart." I moved to a booth at the back of the café, and set my bag on the table. Suddenly, the woman appeared at the table holding a cup to me.

"Thank you," I said taking the cup never meeting her eyes. At that moment the bell to the door rang.

"Hey, Marg, how are you today," a strangely familiar voice said. 'Shit, I didn't think the kids at school would come this far away from the high dollar shops.' Trying to become invisible, I slid closer to the wall and started rolling into a ball.

"Brendon, I'm doing well, how are you?" 'Brendon… Brendon…."

"Eh, well, Sarah called off the wedding, but I think it's for the better. We haven't been ourselves since I proposed."

"Brendon Urie!" I exclaimed finally realizing why the voice was familiar along with the name. Suddenly I felt all eyes on me, and I slowly realized what I had done. I quickly covered my mouth, ducked my burning red face down, and shoved my ear buds back into my ears. I quietly hummed "But It's Better If I Do," by the said male's band. I started trying to make myself busy by grabbing out my school books and attempted to appear busy doing homework. I had reached for my cup as I looked at the first math problem and couldn't feel it. I looked over to where I had set it to see it floating a foot above the spot. A hand was holding it just out of my reach. Removing my ear buds, yet again, I spoke in a soft tone, "I-I-I'm s-sorry for eavesdropping and for my sudden outburst." I didn't look up to face him too ashamed, and because today's bullies were particularly cruel to my face this afternoon.

"My eyes are up here," he said jokingly as he raised his hand trying to lead me to look up.

"May I please have my coffee back? I can leave if that's what you want," I really didn't want to be teased by the man I adored due to his music.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked concerned and taking a seat across the table. I could now see his wonderfully pale skin, deep melted chocolate eyes, black hair gelled back, and his kissable lips through the curtain my (h/l), (h/c), (h/s hair style) hair created.

"Um… yes, I'm what people would call… strange," that was putting it into sweet words. "This is just how I act. Sorry, for causing you to worry for a moment."

"Why do you keep apologizing, you can't tell me that's part of your personality." His voice held annoyance.

"Uh, yeah, I-it kind of is, sorry," I remarked wanting to kill myself on the spot for having to act like a freak when I finally get to meet my celebrity crush. I decided to forget about getting my deliciously cold, heavenly vanilla tasting coffee. I looked back at the math problem. I moved to put my ear buds back in when a hand stopped my movements. I flinched by instinct. 'Fuck, now he knows something is wrong.' I moved my hand away from his soft, warm one and placed it back on the table fiddling with my pencil.

"So, are you really just not going to talk now while trying to pretend that this isn't an act," he asked with some confidence that he had been right.

I let out a soft sigh before looking up for the first time since the beating. My hair moved away from my (s/c) face revealing my black, swollen right eye along with the (e/c) iris of my left. The bloody tissue in my nose, my (l/c lip color) lips swollen and cut, and a nice bruise on my left cheek. "I'm used to the treatment, so I've grown to just live with it," I said trying my best to keep eye contact with him. Also, I didn't feel like crying, or begin the whole, 'self-loathing' speech I had in my head, and I definitely didn't want pity to come from him because I want to seem like the exact opposite of who I act like now.

"Wow," his hand slowly came to caress my cheek and gently cupping to examine my wounds closer. "I bet the other girl looks ten times worse than you," he said smiling.

I let out a gentle giggle at the thought of me actually being able to take on five queen bees at once. "Sadly, no, but they'll get what they deserve one of these days, " I said cringing at the pain that the giggle had caused my stomach and face.

"Oh, I believe this is your's," he slowly slid my prize for being brave towards me. I snatched it up and took a big gulp before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"This is my coffee, so you can no longer take it from me. Without it, I could go into a coma or worse die of coffee depletion." The tone in my voice was a mock stern anger, and he laughed.

"I'm sorry, Miss…"

"(y/l/n), (y/f/n) (y/l/n) is my name."

"That's a unique, beautiful name. Now, as I was saying, I'm sorry, Miss (y/l/n). I would hate to be the one that caused you to go to the hospital, or worse," he said in a mock British voice and giving a shiver.

I bust out laughing, "ow, don't make me do that!"

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to."

I smiled slightly and looked back down at the table. "Ugh! Not even coffee is enough of a bribe to get me to finish this," I said tossing my pencil into my math book.

"It can't be that hard," Brendon said reaching for the book before looking back at me. "What the hell, that isn't math, that's a foreign language."

I smirked, "if it was a foreign language, it would be solvable."

"Well, it seems that would be true unlike the shy, timid, weak girl you were trying to play off just now." He sounded as if he found the treasure he had lost three years before.

"Well, kind Sir, I hate to play the role of Captain Obvious, but you really don't know me. This being the case, anything I do or say could just be an act," I said taking a sip of my drink before looking back at the problem once again. "Ha, maybe you're right about it being a foreign language because I just solved it," I said scribbling out the work and answer before moving on to the next one.

"How the hell did you mange that?"

"I can be an amazing girl, sometimes." I was now on the third question.

"It would appear so," he said growing quiet.

'I guess I bored him. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.' I focused on the remaining questions, and finished in ten minutes. I put up my books and looked up to see he was there watching me. "I know that my face causes some concern, but I'd rather not be the new attraction for the circus freak show," I said feeling my face flush and my mind running through all the horrible thoughts that could possibly be thought by him at this moment. I felt a twinge of sadness as each got worse.

"Sorry, I was just thinking how cute you are even with all the bruises and cuts, and I'm trying to picture how beautiful you are with your face healed. Oh, I'm also questioning how the fuck you managed to get all those problems solved."

"Maybe I'm a robot with realistic flesh covering my metal shell, but then you'd say that robots can't bruise or bleed. The answer is simple, an artificial circulatory system."

"Wow, well, now I'm really wondering if you are human or an A.I."

"Human, with a mechanical brain is probably the best bet," I looked at the clock above his head on the wall. "Shit, hey, Brendon, I hate to say this, but I have to get going. I have to get home," I said dreading the thought of not only leaving his side and the possibility of never meeting again, but also what I would be leaving him for.

"Oh, okay, well, it was nice meeting you, (y/f/n)," he said standing with gesturing to hug him. I gladly accepted it before taking off out the door.

~Time skip brought to you by Brendon's tattoo artist~

I got home before my parents, and got to work on the house cleaning praying that their drug dealer would be late or that they were to out of it to make it back for the next hour. Apparently, my luck had run out when I got to have a conversation with Brendon because they walked in ten minutes after I had.

"Worthless Bitch, why the fuck is this damn house still a mess," my mother's angry shrill voice yelled.

"I told you to abort that thing when you found out it was inside of you. You stupid cunt answer your fucking mother before we come to get your ass ourselves."

I ran to them with dish soap on my arms. "I'm sorry my professor held me back to discuss my slightly slipping grades. We talked about how I just needed to study a little harder."

"Do you think we're fuck idiots? Honestly, you dumb ass whore, who the hell found you attractive enough to fuck you while we were out working our asses off." I felt the kick and fell to the ground. Mom poured the rest of her beer over me before walking away just to chunk the bottle at me.

"Go to your fucking room!"

I ran up the stairs and into the drafty attic. I climbed onto the air mattress and went to the opposite side to find my blade. Just as I was about to press it against my wrist, I heard my phone buzzing. "What the hell," I said through tears. I looked at the unknown number before answering.

"Hello, is this (y/f/n) (y/l/n)?"

I recognized the voice and took a deep, quiet breath to calm myself. "Y-ye-yes," I stuttered through hiccups. 'Way to go now he's going to think you are a completely useless, depressing, suicidal, dumb ass that he doesn't need to waste his time with.'

"(y/f/n), why the hell are you crying? Where are you? Do you need help? Did you get attacked?" He began to ramble worse and worse scenarios.

"I'm crying because my parents are mad at me. I'm at home. I want help, but I don't think it's necessary. I'm a little bit more beaten up then when you saw me, but all wounds heal over time." I had no idea why I didn't evade the last question like I normally would.

"It's okay parents get upset when they think something could have happened to their kid, I would be beyond upset if I were your dad. I mean anything could happen to my perfect little girl."

"If only he thought like you did," I mumbled almost completely silent.

"What was that, (y/f/n)?"

"I wish I had thought like that."

"Oh, okay… next, thankfully you made it home, but, if you want help I think you should talk to your parents first. I don't want to barge into the picture and get you in worse trouble. Lastly, who the hell managed to get a hold of you before reaching your house?"

"I can't ask my parents for help… look, Brendon, before you decide that I'm too weak, timid, useless for you to waste your time with, I figure I should tell you the whole truth. I'm not just beaten up by one girl at school, there is always at least five, and it's not only at school that I get attacked." I let a heavy hearten sigh escape my lips.

"Wait… are you trying to say that your parents also abuse you."

"To put it bluntly, give me a sec I hear them coming up," I tossed my phone under my thin blanket.

"You stupid Bitch, have you decided to tell us the truth about who the hell was in our house and how long you two were together."

"Mom, I swear, I wasn't home until ten minutes before you walked through the door. I wouldn't embarrass you like that."

"Yeah fucking right, don't lie to your mother's face," I saw my dad's hand clutching a beer bottle and it was gripped tight.

"Daddy, please stop. I swear no one has stepped foot I-Ah!" The glass bottle met my wrist as I tried protecting my head. He swung again and the glass shattered against my chest. Then my mom's hands wrapped around my neck. It didn't take long for me to go unconscious. 'Brendon, I'm sorry for being so weak,' I thought before the engulfing black hole sucked me in.