It's Friday night, exactly 8:52, PST, and I'm stuck here at some stupid youth group thing that my parents forced me to go to, because really, there's no way in hell that I would ever be here on my own free will. My parents had this great notion that this was the perfect place to meet new people, one with good morals and a good head on their back.

Excuse me, but I happen to think Jon and Ethan have excellent heads on their backs, thanks.

So yeah, thanks to my stupid parents, I can't spend one of the few nights that I can actually see Ethan (and have some pretty ridiculous hot sex on top of that) and instead, I have to sit here and watch these annoying kids play Twister, laughing and cheering like it's the most goddamn fun thing they have ever done in their entire, pathetic lives.

Just wait till you experience the wonders of sex, kiddies.

The only remotely good thing about the whole ordeal is the fact that one of the only fairly good-looking guys in the whole room was the one who suggested playing the game in the first place, and is now in a position that gives me a perfect view to his ass. And damn, does he ever have a nice ass. Not as nice as mine however, but then again, not too many people do.

So, right now I guess I'm pretty damn thankful he'd chosen this particular game.

However, even that doesn't make me any more happier to be here, with a bunch of church kids whose idea of fun is to bake cookies and play Twister on a Friday night. I'd much, much rather be with my vegan, dread-locked, artsy boyfriend of mine. The one that lives all the way downtown, a half an hour away from my house, and that I rarely ever get to see because of it. Because my parents are mean and won't buy me a car, and very rarely, let me borrow theirs.

Plus, it's getting harder and harder to come up with an excuse as to where I'm going every Friday and Saturday night to my parents. I mean, going to see my twenty-three year old boyfriend in his studio apartment downtown, where he fucks me senseless for a great percentage of the time, isn't exactly going to cut it.

So, really, as far as they're concerned, the only person I ever spend my time with is Jon. Which is almost accurate anyways, because besides them, I don't have any other friends (yes, sad, I know, you dont have to tell me).

And, okay, my parents know I'm gay, because I came out to them when I was thirteen. Well, not so much came out as them finding porn that I downloaded onto my computer. They took it surprisingly well actually, there was no yelling or throwing of objects, there wasn't even any crying from my mother about how she was never going to have grandchildren. However, just because they're accepting over the fact that I like it up the ass, doesn't mean in anyway, that they'd be accepting over me dating a guy seven years my senior.

Anyways, back to the current situation with me sitting on the couch, brooding over the fact that I'm stuck at this... thing, when the boy with the cute butt, pulls himself up from the exciting game of Twister and just plops down on the couch beside me. He doesn't waste his time before sending me a huge, almost way to sweet, grin and goes, "You should join in! It's fun!"

Of course, I don't reply, I just keep my eyes ahead of me, arms wrapped tightly around my legs, and chin plastered to my knees. I really can't be bothered, even if he does have a nice ass.

He apparently, doesn't get the hint though, and if he does, he doesn't give up, because not even a few seconds later he tries again. "You go to my school, don't you?"

This time, I turn my head a little to look at him, and frown. "I do?"

He lets out a warm chuckle. And, okay, he even has a cute laugh. "Yeah, I think so. I'm Ryan Ross."

Oh, of course, Ryan Ross. How did I not recognize him? He's the pastor's son for Christ sakes. He's also one of those saints, who's got an A in like, every class, and if a part of every club, and is friends with absolutely everyone who breathes.

I hate people like him.

"Brendon," I mutter under my breath, and turn back to the game, because I've totally lost like, all interest.

"Well, Brendon, since you are obviously so miserable, why are you here?"

"Parents," is all I have (and want to) offer him.

"Oh, I see." He nods. "Well, you should give it a try. Everyone's really nice."

I shrug. He sighs and gets up, rejoining the game of fun.

When groups over (finally, thank the Lord!) Ryan comes up to me, smiles and says, "See you next week, Brendon."

I can't help but laugh under my breath, shake my head and practically dash out of the room, calling behind my shoulder, "Yeah, we'll see about that."

- x -

It's now Monday, and I'm sitting in the cafeteria with Jon across from me, shoving three French fries in his mouth at a time, while he rambles on about something I'm not listening to, and I honestly really don't give a shit about either. I'm too busy staring across the crowded cafeteria (the same place I had been for the past twenty minutes) and okay, maybe I'm staring at Ryan. He's sitting at the most crowded table in the room (of course) and it's so packed people are sitting on the table. Then, I look at my table, which consists of me and Jon, and I don't feel so great. But then again, I think I'm used to it by now.

Ryan's obviously the center of attention, right smack in the middle, with two girls on either side of him. I know one of them is his girlfriend, Dayna, and I'm pretty sure they've been dating since they were like, in the womb.

I sat beside her in English last year, and yeah, I'll admit, she's pretty and blonde and giggly and nice, but also stupid as... whatever is really stupid. I mean, she asked me what a simile was, and just... ugh, idiot.

Jon finally stops shoving fries in his mouth (because they're all gone) and finally stops rambling on about shit I don't care about (because obviously, the only thing I care about right now is creepily staring at Ryan from my loner table across the cafeteria). "Dude, what the hell are you staring at?" he demands, and then follows my gaze.

I blush, immediately looking down at my tray of soggy cafeteria food. "Nothing," I lie.

"Bullshit!" And apparently, he knows it.

"Jon, seriously, nothing." I sigh, and run my plastic fork through my meatless lasagna.

"It's not Spencer, is it?" he asks, and I look back across the room to where Spencer fucking Smith is sitting across the table from Ryan. Ugh. Spencer Smith. I've hated him ever since second grade when he stole my favorite, very manly figurine (okay, so, maybe it was a Disco Barbie), cut all her long, beautiful, blonde hair off and made it look like a man (or better yet, a butch lesbian). However, despite my strong dislike for him, I'm pretty sure Jon's been longing for Spencer since he moved here back when we were wee little freshman, three years ago. Why? I have no freaking idea. It's Spencer. I mean, yeah, sure, I guess he's good-looking, but ugh, it's Spencer Smith. He acts all perfect, and saintly, and he's like, Ryan's little follower. Then, to top it all off, he's the best goddamn thing to grace the planet and he's going to save us all from ourselves, but I know, behind that whole façade, he's just this stupid, fake, little raving bitch. I really don't see what Jon sees in him, nor will I ever.

In case you're wondering, Jon is, in his own words, 'straight but isn't completely opposed to the idea of getting it on with a guy'. Which I believe is what most people would call bisexual, but this is Jon we're talking about, and he always has to be different. It's like, the law or something.

"Then... who is it? Who does my wee, little baby Bden have a crush on now?" Jon coos, leaning across the table to pinch my burning cheeks with his ketchup stained fingers.

I scowl and smack his hands away. "Screw you; I was merely just scanning the room."

"Yes, and you just happened to scan the same place for twenty minutes?" he asks, doubtfully, eyebrow raised.

And, really, I'm about two seconds away from smacking him for being so damn difficult.

"Jon, seriously, just drop it, alright?" I snap, and take a bite of my soggy lasagna.

Thankfully, he does.

Then, of course, to my sheer luck, Ryan comes sauntering past my table, Spencer trailing behind him, and I just stare down at my tray and hope to God he won't notice me. And, I'm almost positive I'm safe, because he's pretty much passed my table without even a glance in my direction, but then, he turns around and goes like, out of nowhere, "Brendon! Hey!"

This, boys and girls, is when I go five different shades of red, slink down in the uncomfortable plastic cafeteria chair, and Jon just kind of looks between us, mouth open and nose wrinkled in confusion. And yeah, I don't really blame him because Ryan Ross, the pastors freaking son, is talking to me, the school fag, and it's really not a normal thing to be happening at Palo Verde High.

"Um, hi," I say awkwardly, and stare down at my food. And, I have to say, I'm a little confused myself because just a few days ago, I hated him, and now... well, now I've got this weird feeling in my stomach and I think my face is going to melt off. But, it's just because he's so attractive, right?

"How's it going?" he asks, and he's standing at the end of my table, inches away from my chair. Spencer's still standing behind him too, tapping his foot and looking around the cafeteria like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world but here, talking to the schools fags. See, now, this is a normal reaction, and Ryan should be following his example.

"Um, good," I say, sneaking a quick glance to Jon who's staring up at Spencer, and I swear, I can see some drool drop down onto his chin.

Ryan nods, and smiles. "That's good."

And, okay, maybe Ryan is really fucking beautiful. With his perfect, caramel hair that I just want to reach out and pet because it looks that soft. Or his perfect, porcelain skin, that I could run my fingertips over for hours. Or his face that makes him look somewhere between a little boy, a sex god and an angel all at the same time, which sounds creepy, but he so totally pulls it off. But, then again, it is Ryan Ross, and he is a perfect little angel. He's the fucking pastor's son! He's the kid that goes on protests with the rest of his lame friends who have no lives, protesting things like the health department giving out free condoms, and the GSA. And, let's be honest here people, I know he's probably only talking to me to try and invite to one of his bible studies and turn me straight.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not like I have anything against religious people, because I don't. I mean, once upon a time I was Christian too, until I realized I liked boys and the bible told me I couldn't. I mean, does it really make sense why God would make me have these feelings, but then say it was a sin just for the heck of it?

I also don't have a problem with him being religious, or anyone else that's religious, I just hate people that think they're all high and above everyone else, and then claim to be all religious, and follow the lord, but yet they look down on everyone who isn't perfect and follow the bible word to word like them. It just doesn't make any sense, it's like they're contradicting themselves.

And now, it's awkward. They're just standing there, and I'm just sitting here, looking away while Jon is staring at Spencer like he's found God, with a little bit of spit running down his chin.

Spencer finally forces himself to shift his gaze over to us, most likely notices Jon staring at him quite creepily (because I'm sure it's kind of hard to miss), then tugs at Ryan's sleeve, and hisses something about them having to go somewhere. I don't really blame him though, because Jon is even creeping me out a little right now.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you around." Ryan gives us both a short wave, and just as he's about to walk off, he turns around and adds, "Oh, by the way, I really think you should come to group again this Friday. It's really is fun if you give it a try."

I open my mouth to quickly decline, because never again will I ever walk through those doors. I'd rather... have sex with Spencer, and ugh, that tells you something.

"Just think about it," Ryan cuts me off before any words pass my lips, then gets completely dragged away by Spencer, and then they disappear into a group of freshman girls in short skirts blocking the exit.

I stare down at the table, and I can feel my face burning. I can also feel Jon staring at me like, what the fuck? This only makes my face burn even more.

I kind of just want him to say something already, because him just sitting there, staring at me like I've grown a second head is really uncomfortable and really awkward. And Jon's my best friend; it's never uncomfortable or awkward with him.

Finally, after centuries have passed, he practically screams out, for the whole freaking cafeteria to hear, "You like Ryan Ross?!"

A girl from the next table turns over to stare at us, and this, of course, makes me go another five shades of crimson (which I didn't even think was possible) and I'm pretty damn positive if my face goes any redder, it's going to fall off. "Shut up!" I hiss, and kick him in the shin under the table. "I don't like him! He's just... good-looking. Besides that, I hate people like him. And, I mean, I don't even know him. That was like, the second time in my life I've ever talked to him."

"You like him!"

"No, I don't, Jon!" I cry, and I kind of want to punch him in the face then run out of the cafeteria crying. "And, you know, what? Whatever. Like you should be talking. At least I don't like Spencer Smith."

"At least, he's not the pastor's son," he shoots back automatically, then pauses, and frowns. "Hey! Wait!" he pouts. "I don't like Spencer!"

I laugh out loud, roll my eyes, and do a little, uh-huh, yeah, okay, thing with my hand.

"Seriously!"

"Okay, I believe you." And, I obviously don't.

"Suck my penis, Brendon Urie!" He folds his arms over his chest, slinks down into his chair and pouts some more. "Oh, wait! You can't because you're too busy sucking the pastors sons! Oooooooooh!"

I blink, and give him a look that kind of says, what the fuck was that?!

Jon sighs, gives a shrug that's almost as lame as his comeback and says, "I hate you."