Last First Kiss [Brallon+Completed]

8: Watermelon Lips

Dressed in a shirt that said something about coffee being the only thing I depended on for emotional support, and a jean jacket over that, I pushed some sun glasses up my forehead, which were quite extra since this was Black Hollows, and if you saw the sun it was probably God welcoming you to heaven after death. I had my books clutched tightly against my chest, and located my way around the college campus, searching for the administration office. I was gonna sign up for another class.

"Oh, Dallon, one of our stellar students." The lady at the office said as I entered. I nodded slowly, and set my collection of books against the counter. She was one of those librarian-looking students, with glasses that sat at the tip of her nose, and a tight bun that seemed to pull all of her skin back.

"Yeah. Just here to add another course to the days I have art and math. Can I take photography?" I asked. After picking up on Brendon's love for poetry (it was obvious with the collage of pictures above his bed) I wanted to take a class on it, and find out what, exactly intrigued him about having a camera in his hand.

"Of course. Is that all?" She asked. I shook my head slowly, and dug through my books to pull out a picture I'd taken, of a dew covered plant outside of my dorm, right beside the sidewalk. It was a heat of the moment decision, so I had to hurry and make my way to my neighboring dorm, and have them print the picture off.

"That's all. Thanks." I muttered, pulling my load back into my arms. I had plans to go to The Slammer tonight, and not only to possibly see Brendon, but to figure out what song had been playing the night we met. While taking a picture of the dew covered plant, the song had gotten stuck in my head, and I only remembered the singer's unique voice. I turned and left the office, hurriedly heading back towards my dorm.

As soon as I reached the dorm establishment, which was dorm building number 3, hence my dorm number 321, I was greeted by a familiar face; my neighboring dorm member, who was at dorm number 322. He had brown hair, honey eyes, and a likable personality. Ryan Ross. We were kind of friends, I guess you could say.

"Hey, man. Watch out in there. The kids down the hall are crazy!" He warned. Confused, I still pushed on, shrugging his warning off. After all, the kids on our floor had always been crazy, but that was just with my bad luck. I climbed the two flights of stairs, which was the only form of exercise I got nowadays.

A group of unrecognizable kids were swarmed around my door. My smile fell as a familiar smell greeted my nose; spray paint. To match the smell, I hurried over as they continued painting on my door. "Hey! What the hell?" I snapped, forcing my way through the kids. They had all begun to pack up their stuff, and take off down the hall for the stairs. I stared at the word on my door with my chin held high, only clutching my load closer to my chest. Written across my door in big, black letters, was the word FAG. It was even underlined, for emphasis. I sighed, rolling my eyes, and shoving the door open. Stupid kids.

I'd decided my outfit for the day was okay enough to greet a possibly famous musician in the future, and made my way down to The Slammer. The Slammer was less inviting then usual, and I'm assuming all because of the fight Spencer and I had gotten into, and because he kept sending me glares from the bar, where he was mixing drinks, alongside another blonde mixologist, who had LINDA printed across her name tag.

I headed straight for the side of the stage, as a ginger-haired man my age caught my eyes. He had green eyes, a chubby face, and a kind smile. He stood next to a man decorated with body art, and black hair. "Hey," I spoke up as I cut into their conversation. The two of them looked over at me, and the ginger smiled.

"Hey, what can we do for ya?" He asked, curiously. The other man, with the body art, didn't look as friendly as the ginger, which was ironic. In fact, he looked like he was gonna tear my skin from my body, then burn the remains. He wasn't happy. "I just wanted to know your band name, so I could look up a song." I said, eager to departure from the other. "I'm Dallon."