Hit Man (Brendon Urie Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1:

My name is Emily... I'm 21 and a trained hit man living on the streets of Las Vegas with my delusional friend, Hannah.

"MONA LISA, WOAH! YOURE GUARANTEED TO RUN THIS TOWN!" I bolted upright and slipped off the bed, ouch. Sitting up and rubbing the back of my head I looked to see where the sound was coming from.

Hannah's room... Of course, Hannah's obsession for panic at the disco was quite interesting.

When you walked into her room there where about 25 posters of Panic at the Disco and some separate ones of the band members. Some had begun to shrivel at the corner.

I walked over to the door and started to knock loudly, "HANNAH! WAKE UP AND TURN THAT THING OFF!" I heard a quite mumble and then the music stopped.

I walked back to my room and checked the time, 7:30, too early in my opinion, but for my job you had to be ready anytime.

As I was about to shut my phone off I saw in the upper left area of the screen a little 1.

I tapped icon and it led to my messages, typical... The little text message bubble had these words,

"Assignment: BRENDON URIE, Occupation: Singer of the band Panic at the Disco, Address: The Luxor, room 414, Notes: Be careful with this one, a lot of people know him. Get this done ASAP! Good luck Girly... -Sam"

I rubbed my eyes and blinked twice. No, not him.. I knew Hannah would never be the same for awhile if I did this, she would never forgive me if she found out that I was the cause to his death... Well, a job is a job and I needed the money. I could do this, easy.

I ran to the room and got my kit, knives, guns, rope, gloves, and poison, check.

Shimmying into some jeans I ran to the closet and got a plain long sleeve T-shirt. Running down the stairs I swiped my beanie off the steps and put it over my long black hair. I could use this as a temporary ski mask so I don't look so suspicious. Applying my gloves I walked out the door, I was ready.