Earth: Criminal Rehab

Chapter Twelve

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Brendon

That night was the longest night of my entire life. The air conditioning machines hummed in my ears and I felt the breeze blow softly on the back of my neck. The ship vibrated under my feet. A beautiful face stood in front of me. I smiled and pulled her inside my room and onto the couch in the living room. The floor leader had just allowed me to move out of my parent's place. I was exploding with a new found freedom.

I pressed my lips against hers and held her waist, pulling her in closer. It was like we hadn't seen each other in years. It had only been a couple of days.

I couldn't keep the smile off of my face, "God, Skylar, you're the most gorgeous thing in the entire world."

She blushed and her smile brightened, "Shut up."

I pecked at her cheeks and down her neck. Ryan walked in with a can of beer in his hands. He glanced at me and immediately turned away. He wasn't embarrassed for walking in on us, it hardly bothered him at all. Ryan and I were best friends; we were constantly attached to each other. I couldn't tell you how many times he had casually waltzed into my bathroom while I was in the shower or on the toilet. We would go about our business as if nothing had happened. We were just that comfortable with each other. He threw himself on a chair and spun around in it, checking his phone.

I sighed and rose from the couch, offering Skylar a hand to help her up. She grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"What's up?" I asked Ryan and pulled another beer out of the fridge.

He shook his head, still not picking his head up, "Nothing."

I nodded, "Good talk. Good talk."

Skylar snuck around me and walked into the kitchen. She browsed through the pantry and the fridge for something to eat.

"Bad day?" I questioned Ryan. He had quiet days, but he was never as silent as he was that day.

He flicked his head, swiping his hair back in his eyes, "God, Brendon. I said I'm fine!"

I took a step back and held my hands up in surrender. It was pointless to try to reason with him when he was in this kind of mood.

"Alrighty then..." I said and pulled my shirt over my head, "I'm getting in the shower. You two behave while I'm gone."

My family was a long line of doctors. It traced all the way back to our ancestors on Earth. My grandfather married a doctor who gave birth to my father. My father followed the custom and married a very intelligent surgeon who had me. It was almost assumed that I'd be another studious Dr. Urie. From the moment I could understand what the job meant, I knew that it wasn't for me. I quickly adapted to the role of a rebel. I had no idea what I wanted to do in school. I never fit into the cliques and groups, so I made my own. I was a singer, a performer, and I knew it.

I preferred old rock and jazz music, the kind that died with everything else when the bombs reined. I sang everywhere I went. Some days I brought my friends together and preformed little concerts. Although, my favorite place to sing was the shower. My voice echoed off the walls. I tended to forget everything on my mind and just wail. After a while, it would bother my neighbors and guests, though I like to think they secretly enjoy it.

That night I sang so many songs I couldn't remember the number it came to. I even made up a few. By the time I was done, the entire room was filled with steam. I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door. The misty steam followed me out.