Church Boys † Brendon Urie

1✝ Highly Unholy

Walking into church this morning was not the highlight of my day. It wasn't because I had anything against Jesus, I mean in all actuality we were a very religious household; I just didn't want to be here when the preacher's son was here, and the whole of my snooty community.
Shooting a glance around the room, I timidly tugged at the white sundress my mother forced me to wear. It came a little above my knee, and anything above the knee at our community church was scolded. Yes, that's right, there is such thing as slut shaming in the house of The Lord. Especially when your church group is made up of stuck up, rich suburban mothers, and elderly women with a thirst for gossip. And when you were lucky enough to over-hear a group chat amongst these ladies, you heard an earful of who wore their skirts too short, and what that damned preachers boy was up to.
Brendon.
That boy was a hot mess. From all I usually picked up, he had been caught three times skipping service to smoke weed with his buddies behind the building. He got his phone taken away for soliciting nudes, and he often vandalized the sides of the church with spray paint. Not to mention, he was a total player, with very little respect for women.
With the way this boy acted, you'd think he was Satan's spawn instead of the Pastor's.

As I tried my best to inch my dress down as far as it would go, so I wouldn't be harassed by old women, I noticed a pair of eyes on me from the corner of the room. Well, speak of the Devil. Two brown eyes followed by a sickly-sweet smirk, met my gaze as I took a seat in one of the front pews.
He was leaning smugly against the wall to the right of the podium. I was surprised he even bothered to show up, as I narrowed my eyes at him. He just rolled his own, taking the hint, and turned to gawk at the next girl he could attach his eyes too. He made me unreasonably irritated. How does one person end up so corrupted? I'm just glad that I was raised correctly.
I dropped my gaze to my lap, and began to pull at a loose string at the end of my dress. After a few minutes of unsuccessfully ripping the darned thing off, a strict hand swatted my knee.

"Quit messing around with your dress, you're gonna put a hole in it. Sit up straight, Nessy! The sermon is beginning." my mother whispered sharply. She grabbed my wrists with her hand firmly and pulled them away from my lap. I just sighed, lifted my head, and watched our pastor take his place behind the podium. His name was Dave, and he was a very kind and well educated man; Heaven only knows how he attained a hoodlum as a son.

We began with five usual gospel songs before the preacher began his homily. Halfway through the second song, I flicked my eyes toward the back wall and noticed that Brendon was no where to be found. I mentally rolled my eyes at his carelessness, and lack of prioritizing.
Whatever, it doesn't affect me, all I need to worry about today is keeping my head up high, and my dress hem low. Not what some satanist barbarian of a teenager was up to during church hours.

About twenty minutes before the sermon was wrapping up, I excused myself from my mother to head to the restroom.
"Be quick, you're disrupting." She spat, sending me an aggravated huff for my distraction and absence, but my bladder couldn't wait.
"I'm sorry."
A few eyes followed me as I excused myself past the rows, and quickly made my way out of the room.

The heels of my flats echoed throughout the empty hallway. It was oddly still and silent within the narrow lane, but I was thankful I was the only person. It was too bright for my liking, and almost burning my retinas. The bathroom was straight up ahead.
It was divided into two sections at the entry way. Left for boys, right for girls. I was nearing my destination when a strange smell alerted my nostrils. Forgetting my aching bladder, I approached the divide. I could see almost invisible whisps of white smoke escaping the left entry. My first thought was that the bathroom was on fire, but that was completely absurd. I know what fire related smoke looks like, and this was definitely not it. I couldn't help but wonder what was happening inside there.
Out of curiosity, I did something in that moment that I wished I hadn't have done.

Inching my way toward the entry, I peek my head into the male restroom, and am met with a strong gust of white smoke. It hits my face directly, and I hold my breath as the substance stings my eyes. Past the smoke I am met with two large blue eyes, red and bloodshot, staring at me with eyebrow cocked.

"Aye?" he simply says; his tone smooth and slow. What was usually a greeting, coming out as more of a question.
I ignore him and turn my head to examine the rest of the room. Two other boys are sitting against the tiled wall on the floor, holding what appear to be small cigarettes. I immediately recognize one of the mentally distant boys. Brendon stares at virtually nothing on the floor, giggling quietly; but his laughter quickly subsided when he notices me.

I instantly shoot him a dangerous glare. "You shouldn't smoke in a place of worship." I scolded.
His face drops a little before he swiftly pushes himself off the wall, and nears me. He stops when our faces are inches apart.
"And you shouldn't bitch at me while I'm trying to have a good time." he spat cooly, bringing the paper roll up to his lips and taking a drag. He let a little bit of smoke roll off of his lips before he blew it directly into my face. I coughed, and fanned the air around me. My hands met his shoulders, and I weakly shoved him away.
"What? Scared of a little Cannabis, Nancy Drew?" he asked cockily, ensuing bursts of laughter from his greasy friends. I only dusted my hands off, and lifted my nose into the air in an attempt to show pride.
"No, I just have respect for my lord and savior."