Brendon Urie x Reader - Merch

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Loud music sounded from the hall into the part of the venue where beverages and merchandise was sold. It was a small venue, this one, and seemed to host other event often too. You leant back against the table behind you, where loads of shirts, all either black or white, were stacked up to heaps. While the main band was playing, there were only very few people trying to buy merchandise and since you worked for the opening band, there were fewer people buying stuff anyway. You ran your hand through your hair, pondering on whether you should put in some earplugs while no one was trying to talk to you but you decided against it.

From the hall inside you could hear fans scream loudly for the band to perform the next song. Suddenly the noise got louder. Someone must have come through the door. A second later the noise was a little more muffled again. Your eyes darted over to the bar. It was a hot summer night, and the people were heating up the building as well. You considered if it would be acceptable to quickly get yourself something to drink to refill your exhausted water balance, but in that moment someone stepped close to the table.

It was Brendon, one of the roadies who helped the main band with the tour. You had liked him from the first moment on. He had offered the opening band his help with loading and unpacking their things and every evening, while the band was playing, he came to check up on you. Usually he made a few jokes and you talked a little, sometimes he got you something to drink or even looked after the stand when you had to use the bathroom.

"Good evening," he greeted, hopping up to sit on a bit of empty space on the table in front of you that acted as a counter.

"Look at what the cat dragged in," you mocked, a wide grin on your face.

The comment earned a groan from Brendon, then he turned his head and grinned back.

"It's something very special, 'cause someone like me can't just be found on any street," he wittily responded.

You rolled your eyes but laughed.

"How've you been? How's the venue," you asked.

"Pretty good," he answered both of your questions at once, "no complications so far."

That was good. Sometimes the venues did not have enough space for everyone, or there was no bathroom for the crew and bands, or there were not enough speakers or god knows what. Usually you did not hear about problems until Brendon told you about them, because they were mainly irrelevant to you. Except for that one time where the venue had no tables to use as a counter for the merchandise sell. But luckily enough the guys who sold the main band's merch, had organized some tables from a bar down the street, however they had managed that, and had gotten one for you as well.

"How's your evening so far," Brendon asked curiously and turned a little more towards you.

"Uneventful really, but-" you made a small pause for dramatic effect, "I already sold more shirts today then over whole evening yesterday!"

"The people here just appreciate your good looks better," Brendon immediately answered.

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks, but answered anyway, well knowing that the little red tinge in your face had not escaped Brendon's notice.

"I thought people bought merchandise because of the band and not the sales person," you shot back, making him laugh.

"Well, if I'd go to a concert and the person selling merch would be as cute as you, I'd buy lots of shirts, no matter how crappy the band is," he winked at you.

"Then why don't you," you asked, leaning forwards a little.

He furrowed his brows and reached into his pockets.

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