Is beauty objective or subjective?

"An artist, a punk, an emo, a dog lover, and a philosopher walk into a bar," I said as the five of us approached a building that was rather nondescript with the exception of the neon purple sign that read "The Aubergine Dream" that sat in front of it. "That sounds like the premise of a bad joke, but what's the punchline?"

"I guess we'll just have to see," Pete said. He winked and opened the door, and Laura, Pete, Gerard, Frank, and I all walked inside.

At first glance, the Aubergine looked perfectly normal. Most of the people inside were simply hanging around and chatting. I recognized a few of the patrons from Kale, but many of the others were unfamiliar. I presumed that they were simply people from the town of Old Haven, though the city was so overrun with college students that it was hard to believe that anyone else lived there.

Pete and Frank immediately went up to the bar to grab some drinks, while Laura ran off to meet a small, mousy-looking girl who was waiting for her in the back of the room. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, so I found a chair and sat down to take part in one of my favorite pastimes: people-watching.

It took me a few minutes to realize exactly what was going on in the Aubergine. At first, it just looked like people were drifting back and forth, going between the bar and whatever group of friends they had come with. Nearly everyone else seemed to know each other, and even Pete ended up talking to a few people that I didn't recognize at all. I felt more like an outcast than usual, but that feeling wouldn't last too long.

I couldn't help but notice how Frank and Gerard seemed even more affectionate than usual here at the Aubergine. As Gerard started conversing with a woman in her mid-twenties, Frank's fingers slipped between Gerard's as if there was nobody else around. I looked around again, and spotted two girls making out at the back of the room.

When Gerard came back over to me, with both Frank and the unfamiliar woman in tow, I asked, "Gerard, did you take me to a gay bar?"

"Maybe," Gerard said. "Anyways, Ryan, this is Heidi St. Clair. She owns the Aubergine. Heidi, this is Ryan Ross. He's a very talented piano player."

"I'm not all that talented," I insisted. "I'm barely passing Advanced Piano Studies right now."

"Don't listen to him," Gerard told Heidi.

"It's nice to meet you, Ryan," Heidi said as she shook my hand. She was a relatively short woman, with curly black hair, brown skin, and deep brown eyes.

"It's nice to meet you too," I said.

"Why don't I introduce you to Brendon and Spencer?" Heidi said. "They're setting up the drum set right now, and I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

"I don't know about that," I said. "I haven't really committed to playing here yet." As soon as those words left my mouth, I regretted it. I needed this job more than anything. Maybe playing the piano for a living wasn't the best job in the world, but it wasn't the worst either, and I couldn't afford to be picky.

"Let's just try it for tonight and see how it goes," Heidi said. She led me across the room to a relatively clear spot where two men were attempting to assemble a drum set.

Well, more accurately, one man was assembling a drum set while the other was straightening his tie and sipping on a peach and lime daiquiri.

Both of them appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties, and both of them seemed slightly familiar. I assumed that they were both Kale students that I had seen walking to class, but I had never bothered to ask their names. "Brendon?" the one assembling the drum set said. He had a round face, pale skin, and blue eyes. "Can you please help me here?"

"Spencer, I'm warming up my voice," Brendon said as he took yet another sip of his drink. He was strikingly handsome in his sparkly gold suit, and I couldn't help but wonder if everyone found Brendon as attractive as I did.

"You've been 'warming up your voice' for the last two hours!" Spencer exclaimed.

Brendon didn't bother to respond to his companion. Instead, he turned to Heidi. "Hey," he said. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to introduce you to Ryan Ross," Heidi said.

"Does he know how to play the piano?" Brendon asked. "You know I've been looking for a piano player for forever."

"I know how to play," I said.

"Really?" Brendon said. I nodded, and Brendon started jumping around frantically. "Heidi!" he screamed. "You're the best! You found someone who can play the piano for me! Ryan Ross, you are my new favorite person!"

"Uh...thank you?" I said, unsure of how to respond. I had just met Brendon after all, and even though I did think he was quite beautiful, I couldn't exactly say that he was my favorite person yet.

"So Ryan, we're almost done setting up the drum set..." Brendon said.

"We?" Spencer interrupted. "I'm the one who's always doing all the work around here."

Brendon shrugged and said, "Once Spencer's done setting up the drum set, you can warm up a little bit. The piano's over in the corner, and I can get you the music in a few minutes. The show always starts at exactly nine in the afternoon."

"That doesn't make any sense," I said. "It's night now, not afternoon, but who decides when afternoon becomes night anyways? Couldn't I say that it's the afternoon if I wanted to?"

"You're overthinking this," Brendon said.

"It's what I do," I said.

"Wait a second," Spencer said as he looked at me. "I think I recognize you. Do you go to Kale?"

I nodded. "Do you go there too?" I asked.

"Yes," Spencer said. "This is my third year at Kale. It's a great school, isn't it?"

"Definitely," I said.

"I think I need another daiquiri," Brendon commented as he stared into his empty glass. I watched him walk up to the bar as I wandered over to the grand piano waiting for me in the corner of the room. It was a beautiful instrument with its polished surface, and when I quietly pressed one of the keys, it produced a clear, gorgeous sound that echoed all throughout the bar.

I couldn't wait to find out what this piano knew.

I played through a few chords and scales before Brendon stopped by and placed a stack of sheet music in front of me. "Here you go, Ryan," he said. "You sound amazing, by the way."

"I've barely played anything," I said.

"I just have a feeling that this is all going to be marvelous," Brendon said. "Do you ever get that feeling, Ryan?"

"Sometimes, yes," I said. "Some things just can't be explained, no matter how hard you try." If I had to be honest, at that moment, I was having the same feeling. I felt like something in my life had gone right for once, even if the show itself hadn't started yet. Brendon and Spencer both seemed like nice guys, and I could imagine sitting here on the piano bench and playing with them again.

"You're right about that," Brendon said. He leaned across the piano to look me in the eyes and asked, "Do you take requests?"

"It depends on what the request is," I said.

"How about Bohemian Rhapsody?" he said.

"I can play parts of that," I said.

"Can you please play it for me?" Brendon asked.

"I don't know about that..." I said. It seemed worthless to start something that I knew I couldn't finish, even if it was only a piano piece.

"Please?" Brendon asked, pouting, and I gave in to that gloomy face and played what I knew of Bohemian Rhapsody. Brendon immediately started smiling again as I stumbled through the piece. Despite my failures, Brendon hummed through the whole song, clearly enjoying himself.

"I don't know any more," I told him as I stopped short right before the operatic section.

"What you had was great," Brendon said. He looked over at the clock and shouted, "It's nine in the afternoon! Ryan, Spencer, we need to get started!"

I flipped through my music until I found the first song. Thankfully, most of the music was fairly simple, though that didn't make it any less beautiful. Sometimes, the simplest of things could be the most beautiful.

That begged another question, which I pondered while I played the first few chords. What was beautiful anyways? I could name plenty of beautiful things: new pianos, old books, the Kale University campus in the springtime, the color black, and Brendon Urie, for example. However, I couldn't quite say what made those things beautiful, or if everyone saw things the same way that I did.

Surely, all of you have heard the old proverb "beauty is in the eye of the beholder," but I'm not sure if I believe it. There must be some things that are universally beautiful, and I discovered one of those things that night at the Aubergine Dream at nine in the afternoon.

When Brendon opened his mouth, I realized that he could sing like an angel.

Brendon's voice soared through the Aubergine, reaching up into the highest notes and diving down into the lowest depths of his range. He sounded like a cross between Frank Sinatra and a Broadway star, and I mean that in the best way possible. My heart fluttered as I tried to keep time and avoid overtaking Brendon's melodies.

Looking out into the crowd, I saw that nearly everyone else was just as enthralled with Brendon as I was. I spotted Pete and Laura in the front and Frank and Gerard in the back, but all of their eyes were on Brendon. Once the song was over, all of them burst into applause.

Brendon grinned and said, "Hello! I think you all know me by now, but I'm Brendon Urie, and I'm here with my best friend Spencer Smith to provide some entertainment for you guys tonight. I think some of you might have noticed that we have a new face here tonight, and he's rocking it over there on the piano. Give it up for Ryan Ross!"

Everyone burst into applause again, and once all of the noise died down, Brendon launched into his next tune. He sounded just as wonderful on the second song as he did on the first, and for the next hour, I had the pleasure of letting Brendon's gorgeous voice fill my ears.

Unfortunately, it was all over far too quickly. The joy that I had felt playing with Brendon and Spencer disappeared after the last chord, although Brendon did come up to me after I finished helping Spencer put the drum set away. "That was just awesome," Brendon said. "Are you coming tomorrow night?"

I considered the question for a moment. I had enjoyed my time onstage, and I did want to spend a little bit more time with Brendon. I needed the money too, but that wasn't even my primary concern at that point. "Of course," I told Brendon.

"Excellent," Brendon said, grinning. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ryan."

"See you soon, Brendon," I said. I hated to leave him, but it was late, and I had classes the next day. I didn't want to fall asleep in the middle of my Freshman Writing Seminar.

On my way out, I found Pete waiting for me. "Frank, Gerard, and Laura already left," he explained as we walked back towards campus. "That was a great show, by the way."

"Thanks," I said.

"So what do you think of the Aubergine Dream?" Pete asked. "Are you coming back tomorrow night?"

"I'm coming back for sure," I said. "There's just so much beauty in the Aubergine."

"I agree," Pete said as he looked back at the neon purple sign. "It's a great place. I'm honestly not sure why so many people like the Poisoned Youth either."

Honestly, I couldn't say either. I had never been to the Poisoned Youth, but at that moment, I couldn't possibly imagine a place that was better than the Aubergine Dream.

It was nearly midnight by the time I returned to Flack Hall. I tiptoed through the hallways until I carefully opened the door to Room 27. Who knew what my straightedges in my residence hall would think if they knew where I had been?

As expected, Patrick was curled up in bed, fast asleep. I got ready for bed as quietly as I could, and thankfully, Patrick slept through all of it. My heart was still pounding in my chest, and I still couldn't believe everything that had happened that night.

Most of all, I knew that I could never forget the objectively beautiful Brendon Urie.