Emo Quartet imagines (MCR,FOB,P!ATD,TØP)

A date with a Dork - Brendon Urie

You sat on the couch of the dressing room, tapping your foot nervously, anticipating the moment when your lifelong idol and celebrity crush would walk into the room. Sure, you were almost just as famous as he was, almost, but to you, he still seemed like a thousand levels higher. You grew up listening to all the Panic! At The Disco songs. They were the band that helped you survive middle school and high school, and to think that you'd be in the presence of Brendon Urie, the actual singer and front man of your favorite band, it blew your mind. You had met him online through some DM's on Twitter, and you texted each other, even had a video talk, and Brendon decided to send you some free tickets for some of his upcoming shows in hopes that you could make it and you two could meet and hang out later. It felt surreal.

That day you had called Brendon a couple hours before he went on stage, and he had explained to you where to go and what to do in order to find him. Zach, who you had seen in a million backstage videos and Brendon periscopes, had introduced himself to you and showed you to the dressing room, sitting you down on the couch until Brendon came out from his shower. You had agreed upon walking to a little music shop Brendon had scouted out earlier, a place where he had told you he had bought one of his favorite guitars. You were lost in thought when the door swung open and Brendon's eyes met yours, and your heart leapt. This was really happening.

"Nice to finally see you in person," Brendon smiled as he dried his hair off with a towel, setting it down on the ground and giving you a hug. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Looks who's talking," you smirked, both of you walking out the door and down the sidewalk.

"I've watched a couple of your YouTube videos," he chuckled. "You're pretty cute."

"Cute? More like embarrassing," you rolled your eyes. "They find it humorous when I humiliate myself."

"Stuffing marshmallows in your mouth is humiliating?" Brendon raised his eyebrows. "Ha, remind me what humiliation means the next time you get so drunk you take your pants off on stage."

"Well that's actually sort of hot," you admitted. "A marshmallow filled mouth? I don't think it even comes close."

"You're too humbling," Brendon laughed. "I think you're great."

"Same," you grinned. "I've been listening to your music for forever."

"Forever is a really long time," he reminded. "That's almost fucking eternity, you know. I don't think my band's even been around that long."

"You know what I meant silly," you gave him a playful jab in the arm.

"You hit like a girl," he teased. "No offense to girls."

"You sing like a girl," you joked. "Hitting those high notes and that falsetto."

"Really now? I never noticed! Oh my gosh," Brendon responded, doing his best Valley Girl impression, which made you giggle. You had seen him do it so many times in his Periscopes, and even sometimes on stage.

"The show was great by the way," you added. "I loved it."

"Was it worth the price?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You gave me tickets for free," you laughed. "Remember?"

"Fuck, I love it when you laugh," Brendon sighed happily. His eyes grew wide after he realized he had just said that aloud, and it only made you laugh more. "Damn, I didn't think-"

"No, haha," you regained composure. "It's fine. I love your smile."

"Really now?" he flashed a toothy grin.

"Not like that," you rolled your eyes.

"You sure?" he insisted between his teeth.

"Better quit it or I'll start calling you Beebo," you playfully threatened.