Blue [Brallon-ish]

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Montana was far warmer than I had expected it to be. I'd even googled weather reports and everything before I left just so I knew what to expect. But it was summer, so I should've expected it and brought along more pairs of jeans and more shorts in case I sweat through the others.

I also should've read through the rest of the email though. All I saw was "selected to join our expedition Blue" and I packed, bought the next plane ticket out, and left that stupid apartment in Los Angles without looking back. I should've looked back though, because all my pairs of shorts were at still home, gathering dust in the dresser drawers. They said they'd supply me with shirts and all that, but I just had to bring my shorts. Leaving almost everything I owned at home was a stupid idea.

I pushed my way through the crowd with all my suitcases intact, down an escalator, a flight of stairs, an elevator, and another stupid escalator before finally arriving at the lobby where there was a entire row of people waiting with signs. Tedious and exhausting, but I'd do anything to get to that museum and start the one thing I'd wanted to do my whole life.

Above all, I think, I was most excited to meet the other people I'd be working with. I was never very enthusiastic about meeting people in the first place and spending months with a small group of people seemed like a good way to make friends, right? I'd inquired about their names but they wouldn't give any. Said it was top secret and that the one in charge of the group expedition didn't want the names released to the public until they returned, including mine. So their names were out there, I just didn't know them. I was still ecstatic, nevertheless.

The whole 'Expedition Team Blue' thing was supposed to be undercover, except for a select few the museum claimed to email. And I just happened to be one of them, thankfully. I needed a job opening before my knowledge and field experience slipped to nothing in my mind.

When I stepped off the plane, I spotted some guy with slicked back hair, holding a sign with my name etched neatly in dark sharpie, the stitched print on his tacky tourist style shirt reading the name to the museum, but his pricey dress shoes screamed otherwise.

"Are you John?"
[John O'Callaghan from The Maine? The loml??]

He blinked a couple times, taken aback before realizing who I was. A smile spread across his face and set the sign down to the floor to pull me in for a hug. "You're Brendon Urie, aren't you!"

I nodded and John practically vibrated in excitement. I didn't think he would be like this in person. The email was very vague about his bubbly personality.

We stood there in the middle of the airport lobby, awkwardly hugging for a few minutes.

"I should probably take you to the museum now, huh?"

"Well, I mean if you want to keep hugging..."

John laughed, pushing me away and holding my shoulders out at arms length. "I like you already, Brendon Urie. We should get you out with the team. Ross is gonna take you out there for good and he can't stand being left waiting."

_________

John's jeep pulled into the backlot of the Central Lake Natural History Museum, right beside a dusty grey Range Rover. He grinned and pressed his face against the window, waving at the person leaned against the passengers side door. Whoever it was looked pissed, arms crossed over their chest, sunhat and shades observing their face all except for a scowl. Maybe I shouldn't have accepted the spot in the group.

"That's Ross," John glanced over his shoulder and pressed a button to unlock the doors, although I wasn't too sure I wanted to get out and meet this Ross character "he's got all your stuff since the flight was delayed and the staff wants to get you out there as soon as possible. An extra pair of hands never did any harm, yeah?"