Mad as Rabbits (Brendon Urie Fanfic)

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A/N Ok, bare with me. The beginning to this story is pretty drawn out just because I wanted to get some key points across, and whatnot. So I promise if you hang in there there will be some Beebo in this chapter! I recommend playing the songs I put in the chapters, but you don't have to. Your choice :) If you are using the songs wait to start them until I give you a little note. Well, I hope you like this chapter, lemme know what you think. Enjoy! Wait to start the song.

I look into the mirror in my bedroom sighing, and accepting that I'm going to look like a half-human half-potato tonight no matter how much makeup I slap on my face. I settle for a bare face, my usual look, as I don't trust myself to put on any mascara or lipstick. I've never been too good at makeup. I push myself out of my desk chair, and head for my wooden closet doors, and swing them open to reveal my scarcely supplied wardrobe.

As I look through through each dress, I can't help but let my anxiety about the coming night take over my mind. I haven't ever gone out to a fancy party before, I usually spend my time reading or hanging out with my few close friends. But this party has been in the spotlight of LA for nearly a month now. It is being held at some celebrity's house, but I don't recall who. Many people have been counting the days down until the ball, and I fully intended to stay in my small college apartment and watch Netflix, but my parents insisted that I go.

"Lea," my mom had said on the phone, "you're turning nineteen in a month, and you're barely ever out of your apartment for God's sake! Go out have some fun. Maybe meet a boy or something..." I cringe at the thought of my mom's call. My mom doesn't understand people these days, and that no one has ever shown the slightest of interest in me. Sure, I've had my fair share of crushes, but after being rejected by three in a row I made a solemn promise to myself; I would never let crushes control me again. I stop scrolling through my closet, when I see my favorite black A-line dress. It's pretty plain except it has an open back with laces crisscrossing down the spine, till it ties at the small of my back. I throw it on and tie the corset-like strings up my back. I glance at my phone's lock screen and see the time, my eyes bulge. Damnit, I think, Spencer is gonna kill me if I don't get going. Spencer is my older brother. He's been my best friend in the whole world my entire life, and college usually doesn't allow me to see him much, but I jump at the chance to see him whenever I can. So, I asked him a few days ago to come with me to the ball, after all, I didn't want to just show up alone, I'd freak out. Of course, being the angel of a man he is he agreed without hesitation. I know he's probably waiting out in his sleek black car for me right now so I throw my hair in the neatest braid I can manage in thirty seconds, and bound down my apartment's stairs going two at a time, grabbing a pair of wedges as I bustle through my tiny home. I run out the worn wooden door, barefoot, and scan the street until I see my brother's car parked near the curb of the LA street. I swing through the open passenger door and give my big brother a huge bear hug pulling back to look at him.

His big blue eyes focus on my face, and he wears a huge grin, complimented by two rows of sparkling teeth. "Hey Spencer," I grin his good mood rubbing off on me despite my nerves.

"Hey little Lea, long time no see, ya dingus!" he teases tugging at my messy braid gently.

I close the car door smirking and roll the window down, looking at the music playing. I realize with a giggle he's playing a song by Fall Out Boy. "What? Is my odd-ness starting to rub off on you?" I say looking from his radio to his now blushing face. I can't help myself from laughing even harder at the sight. 

He blushes darker red, if that's even possible, and pulls the car out of it's parking spot, running his fingers through his thick brown hair. "What can I say, my sister's got a pretty good taste in music, also the bass player is hottttt," he says dragging the last word out in a singsongy tone.