Chapter One

I can admit that I don't quite love my job. I wear black slacks and a white button up everyday. I have to. I sit in the same cubical and type numbers into little white boxes. I get yelled at by my boss for some ridiculously ridiculous thing. I get extra work to take home. A bunch of asshole coworkers annoy me. And I go home. Its the same thing everyday.

I do get some variety though. Like some days I wear my brown shoes instead of my black ones. And some days I wear a tie with color instead of the plain black tie handed out by the company on the first day. Ugh, some days I just want to kill myself.

OKAY, OKAY I WAS KIDDING! Sheesh! About the colored ties, of course. They're not allowed. I just wanted to make my life seem a little more glamorous than it actually is. I didn't want you to think I was a total loser. At least I'm free to do what I want to on the weekends. And by 'do what I want to' I mean I'm free to watch Property Brother reruns on HGTV for the couple of hours I have left after finishing the work I took home. Jealous yet?

"Urie!" The loud speaker called out my last name. Oh I wonder what the boss wants to compliment me on now. "Urie, get your ass in here right now!"

"I wonder what Your Highness wants to commend you for this time." Spencer said at the same time he sat his butt on the side of my desk.

Spencer was my only friend. Not just my only work friend. But my only friend period. It was sad actually. He was my only friend at work. But Spencer had tons of friends out side of work. Spencer even had a beautiful girlfriend. I wish I had a beautiful girlfriend. Or just a pretty girlfriend. Actually, with the way things are going now, I'd settle for any female person.

"I was just thinking the same thing." I told him. "Get off my desk."

He didn't. "You want to get a drink after work, bro?"

"Can't. Busy."

"Busy with what?" He lifted my toy car off my desk, tossed it up and caught it.

"Work. What else?" I snatched the car from him.

"But its Friday!" He whined.

"Would you like to complain to my employer?"

"Hell no."

"Urie, if your ass isn't standing in my room in two seconds, you're fired!"

I nodded my goodbye to Spencer, who was messing with the car I'd just put down. And I literally ran to his office. When I got there he was leaned over the desk with his hand pressed against the intercom button. He was probably about to announce over the loud speaker that I was fired. Maybe he still would. But he lifted his hand off the button and crushed my hopes and dreams.

"Urie, you need to report to the local police station."

"What? Why?" That's not what I had been expecting.

"Your car was brutally vandalised. Some old bitch reported it when she saw it."

"But...but-"

"You have to go file a police report."

"What?"

"Go to the damn station, Urie. Before I fire you!"

I walked out of his office dumbfounded. On my way to my desk to get my keys, I realized that I couldn't drive to the police station. Shit. I was terrible at catching cabs. I walked towards the door and heard some one mutter "Sorry about your car loser." It was probably Trevor. I don't even know why the guy hated me.

I stuck my hand out and walked to the side of the road. A cab stopped immediately. Hey, maybe my luck was changing. Maybe God didn't hate me anymore. I got in and told the man where to go. He nodded and turned on the radio. I took out me phone and tried to look busy so the cab driver wouldn't think I was up for conversation. Hey, I wasn't an asshole or anything, I just wasn't in the mood to make pointless conversation. My car was destroyed for christ sake!

"The Social Stabber strikes again." The loud voice of the woman on the radio caught my attention. "The most recent victim is 19 year old Lizzie Welch. She was found four blocks away from her campus. Her Twitter was updated to Dead and that's how she was found. For those of you keeping up, that's the 32nd victim in the past two month. Police say they have a new lead-"

"You heard of this guy?" The cabbie asked me.

"No." A serial murder. Here? This is one of the smallest towns I've ever heard of. I didn't even know we had 32 people living here! "Not really interested." In talking. I was frighteningly interested in the story. I'd look it up later.

The cabbie shrugged and remained quiet for the rest of the ride. He turned off the radio, thank God. I'd much rather silence, than hear about some serial killer in my town while driving with a suspicious looking cabbie. Not saying I'm afraid, but I'm afraid. He stopped me in front of the police station. I paid him the money and rushed in. The woman at the front desk frowned.

"Can I help you?"

"My name is Brendon-"

"You're late."

"Sorry?"

"He's waiting for you down the hall. Third room on the right."

The way she said it warned me that she wasn't in the mood for me to ask her any questions. So I didn't. They probably just wanted to ask me a few questions. And to see if I knew who did it. I know who did it. It was Trevor and his group of brainless friends. Spencer and I called them zombies. But that might be a bit of an insult. To zombies. I got to the hall and began counting doors. First door on the right. Second door on the right. Third! Third door on the right.

I opened the door and froze. The cop was already in there waiting for me. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. He was noticeably tall and lanky even while sitting down. His clothes looked like they'd jumped from a mannequin in the fifties. But somehow it worked on him. The silly scarf however, didn't. But that's not what was beautiful. He had the face of an angel. Innocent and smooth. His bright eyes lit up when I entered the room and he flipped his light brown hair away from his face. If this is what cops looked like now a days, I needed to get in more trouble.

"Hey." He stood and dramatically motioned for me to sit down.

"Hi." It came out as a breathy whisper. I sat down and then he did too. What a perfect gentleman. "I'm Brendon."

"Ryan." He smiled.