Death of a Bachelor- P!ATD au

Victorious

Chapter 1- Victorious

The room was dark, barely lit by the lights illuminating the dance floor in the next room along. The rooms were crowded, sweaty bodies pressed against each other, overflowing drinks in every hand, including mine. But this wasn't my scene. It was my friend's scene, my friend called Iris who I had managed to lose within five minutes of being at the party, she wasn't answering her phone either. So helpful. The music was deafeningly loud, with each beat, the house vibrated causing a jolt of fear to run through me every few seconds. My head was pounding from the noise, the horribly loud music and the drunken screams of the people around me. I knew that if I even had as little as a sip of the lukewarm beer in my hand, I'd lose it and curl up on the floor crying for my friend who promised to keep me safe tonight.

"You're Kat.. Katsu- Katsuo, right?" I nodded despite this obviously intoxicated teenage girl's mispronunciation.

"Iris sent me to fetch you, we're all in the corner!" She grabbed my wrist, immediately beginning to weave through the people displaying more skin than I ever would have dared to. As soon as she passed through a group of people, they resumed their original position, blocking me from her. I yelled at them to move, but they couldn't hear me. My throat was already scratchy and raw from yelling my friend's name for a little less than ten minutes, so of course they wouldn't hear me.

"You alight there, l-little d-dude?" A teenage boy stammered, he was my age, but he still had the build of a student in a much higher grade. Everywhere around me were jocks, not the friendly looking ones either. Well, there was one who looked a little friendlier than the others but he was a popular kid, like top of the food chain popular. Brendon Urie. Top of all his classes, including music- the subject everybody thought he had taken to take the piss out of, turns out he has an impressive vocal range, and he wasn't putting it to waste. He made eye contact with me and took in how I stuck out, prominent against the crowd of muscly boys clad in basketball shorts and tank tops. Instead I was wearing my Doc Martens, black skinny jeans and a casual button-up, just like I usually wore. My hair was a disgusting shade of brown and refused to be styled up or to the side so just flopped on my forehead, thankfully it was curly so it could always look worse.

"Japanese kid!" Brendon hollered, bouncing towards me. Even though I wasn't Japanese, everybody called me Japanese because of my name. My name that my parents cursed me with. It means victory, but I was definitely not victorious in the slightest. More of a disappointment than anything else. "You lost?" He whispered in my ear, an arm wrapping around my shoulder. I felt my muscles tense, my spine stiffen but I couldn't speak. I could feel his veins throbbing in his muscles as he crouched a little to match my height.

"Where're you supposed to be, kid?" He asked. Little did he know I was in his grade, three of his classes, in fact. I pointed in the direction the girl had been trying to take me. "Right." He mumbled under his breath, straightening his back but keeping a hand on each of my shoulders.

"'Scuse me lads, make way!" He yelled, grinning at his athletic friends. I'll never be like them, even if a miracle did happen. Once we were out the crowd, he left to return to his group I will never be a part of.

"Victory!" Iris yelled, throwing her beer bottle in the air, she grinned triumphantly as it landed with the nose in the air. "You got a headache? Me too! Let's go outside!" She grabbed my hand and began to tug on my arm alike a toddler going on a walk. The girl from earlier was nowhere in sight, so I reluctantly followed Iris' lead.

Outside was a patio, heated swimming pool and a boxing ring. Steam rolled off the water, skimming the patio and dispersing as it reached my pair of clumpy boots that weren't really appropriate for an it's-almost-back-to-school-time-two-days-left-party/celebration that I wasn't invited to, neither was Iris for that matter but when she wants to get into a party, she is getting into the party, even if she dies on the way out.

"Oohhh, look at the mermaids..." Iris slurred, gripping my stick arm tighter as she stumbled a few steps towards the pool.

"Don't go swimming, please." I wrapped my arms around her stomach, pulling her drink-controlled body against my sober one. She happily leaned her head against my shoulder and smiled as she brought her hands to my forearms crossed across her abdomen. Inside the pool, the 'mermaids' she 'saw' were in fact girls from the school swimming pool dressed in bikinis trying to get the boys attention by loosening the straps as they effortlessly glided across the water. Even if they weren't mermaids, they were still mesmerising.

"In the red corner... we have... Patrick! And in the blue we have... Urie!" A loud voice announced, drawing all attention to the raised boxing ring that was no longer empty. The music inside was cut off and people flooded out the double glazed doors onto the patio, enclosing me in a crowd of people I didn't belong in. Brendon stood in one corner of the ring, a blue robe thrown on with the hood shadowing his face, the opposition was the same but in the colour red. Suddenly, both robes were ripped off and water was poured over Urie's head, trickling down his bare chest.

"May the power of Christ be with you!" One of Urie's athletic friends grinned, dropping the bottle on the other side of the ropes. Brendon rolled his eyes, slipping his clenched fists into boxing gloves, blue to match his shorts. Alike his opponent, he was shirtless, as already stated, and was wearing boxing shoes- the type that professionals wear. Did he do this competitively or is he taking the piss out of boxing? It wouldn't surprise me if he was doing it properly, he's a jock after all.

"We don't want a nice, clean fight. Fight dirty! All moves are allowed. Fight!" A strike of panic flooded through my veins, what if Brendon got hurt? Somehow I figured black eyes and split lips would not suit Brendon on a daily basis. Brendon took no time in bounding towards Patrick, fist cocked and loaded, ready to strike. Before the shirtless boy covered in graphic tattoos could act, Brendon had punched him in the face. He smiled slightly as his victim fell to the ground, jaw slightly misshapen. The crowd around me began to chant Urie, clapping their hands and stomping their feet as their favourite fighter, and friend, floored his enemy. A few rounds later, Brendon remained undefeated making him the clear winner. All around me, students were jumping and screaming euphorically as Brendon fist-pumped the air, milking the attention, his gloves strewn to the side. He took a bottle of champagne off one of the girls in the pool and popped the cork, the bang silencing everyone.

Brendon's warm, yet freezing cold brown eyes met my dull green irises, a confident smirk on Brendon's face.

"Tonight, we are victorious!" Brendon yelled before pressing the lip of the bottle against his, chugging half the bottle in seconds.

The crowd repeated what he had yelled before drinking their own drinks, that was when I took my first sip of beer that night. The beer warmed my body, ridding the cold, ghostly feel Brendon left when he stared at me.

"Victorious, like your name." Iris said finally after nearly everybody had returned to the dancefloor. That was me, victorious. But I never felt like it.

~Kai

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