Just outside of Phoenix, Arizona, Brendon Urie's mild-mannered alter ego is simply himself. A 25-year-old hairdresser who thinks he's seen it all and he's done all he can in this little town. It's a normal Monday afternoon with a lull in business when he hears the same jangly guitar music he's heard from the same guy that's been sitting in the same spot for the past couple of months. Struggling artists, what can ya do? For Brendon, he pities the poor guy and he just doesn't have the heart to call the cops on him for loitering, so he leaves him be. Until that particular Monday when he just gets too curious. [tw: cursing/swearing, general drug use] instagram fic bc we like to try new things around here!
103 parts