Proper little artist, aren't I?

Okay, so...yeah. Um...Caz basically talked me into this. I don't think I'll continue it, but if I do, it won't be an office fan-fiction, that's just...how it begins. If it continues...well, it'll be different.

Be sure to tell me if you like this and feel free to offer constructive criticism. I'm most prepared for the latter, to be quite honest. Anyway...here I go.

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"Holy fucking God, I am so fucking bored." Brendon sighed, spinning around on his office chair and roughly kicking his desk with each revolution. He hung his head back over the back of his chair and exhaled loudly.

"Bren, stop it." I grabbed the edge of the seat to stop him and glanced in the direction of our boss' office. "Miller is going to see you slacking off and get all pissy again. You know he hasn't exactly been favourable toward you since you got drunk at the Christmas party and...violated his wife."

"Oh, please!" Brendon exclaimed boisterously, clicking his pen again and again, "She was begging for it! And it's not like I banged her, we just kissed."

"You had your hand down her dress, Brendon." I laughed, remembering the look on Bob's face when it happened. The only reason Bren wasn't fired was that he had some really incriminating evidence concerning Bob and the pretty, young, blonde copygirl who had mysteriously been promoted to his secretary.

"I don't know how Miller ever got a wife that hot, anyway." Bren started flicking through the comic book he'd brought earlier, at lunch. "I'll bet he hadn't fucked her in years, I don't even think he could if he wanted to, she deserved a little excitement."

"Lovely." I remarked.

"Mmmm, I see that only the very hardest of work is being done here, as always." A disapproving voice droned.

I threw my head back to see our office manager, Bob Miller, standing over me, briefly glaring at Brendon, who was still reading his comic book. I automatically crossed my arms over my chest, recalling that Miller was something of a pervert and would try to look down my shirt, the way he always did to a female over the age of thirteen.

"But of course." I stated in reply. "Would you expect anything less?"
Miller leered down at me for a moment before returning his gaze to Bren. "Put the comic down, Urie. Do your work."

"I'm looking for design ideas to market children's stationery." Brendon rhymed, not even looking up.

"Enough of your smart-ass attitude." Miller grumbled, snatching the comic off Bren. "You can retrieve this at the end of the day. You have a sales status report to prepare for Tuesday."

"Oh, yeah, I'm totally on it." Brendon replied. I knew he was being sarcastic, but Miller started lumbering away, nonetheless.

"At least I wasn't reading one of the porno magazines I got." Bren giggled like a little kid.

I rolled my eyes at my best friend and began arranging shipping arrangements with a client over the phone. I glanced around the office of Miller Stationery & Co. Bland, dull grey walls surrounded the fifteen desks of the people who don't get an individual office, such as Brendon and I. The uninspiring 'motivational' posters on the walls did little to stimulate any energy in my fellow workers and myself. They drearily typed away on their keyboards, unenthusiastically spoke on the phone and generally did their work. But there was no...passion. Nobody was there by choice, myself included, and there was something very sad about that.

This isn't the career...the life I wanted for myself. I was going to be an actress. Brendon was going to be a rockstar. Neither of us wanted a job where you had to drag yourself out of bed in the morning, where you were so unappreciated, you wondered why you even fucking bothered, where you spent your whole day glancing at the clock every five minutes, only to remind yourself time is dragging by even slower than it seems.

"Sarahhhh...?" Brendon whined a few minutes later.

"Um, excuse me for a moment, please." I said, covering the mouthpiece of the phone and looking at Bren. "Yes?"

"Will you go and get my comic book off Bob, please?" he asked me, batting his long, dark eyelashes.

"What? No." I laughed. "I'm not going back into that office alone, not after what happened last time."

I was referring to the 'Accidental' Ass-Groping incident.

"Sarah, if you aren't out in five minutes, I swear, I'll come in there wielding a fucking fire extinguisher." Brendon assured me, running a hand through his extremely dark brown hair. "Just...I'm going to die of boredom here. Literally."

"I apologize, but I'll have to call you back." I said into the phone, hanging up. "Why can't you go and get it?"

"Sarah, I don't have your irresistible feminine charm now, do I?" he winked.

"Flattery," I began, "Will get you nowhere my boy." I thought for a moment before asking Brendon, "What's in it for me, if I do?"

"I'll bang you." he replied without even hesitating. "Hard."

"Shut the fuck up, B." I wrinkled my nose. "That's disgusting. Seriously, though. I am risking my innocence if I go in there alone, I need some incentive."

"Fine, fine." he sighed, putting his hands behind his head and spinning around on his chair again, before sticking his tartan Converse-clad foot out and stopping himself. "Your innocence? Did I hear that right?"

"Keep your mouth shut, Urie." I laughed. "I'm more innocent than you, that's for certain."

"Okay, I will..." he spun around once more for good measure. "Get you a boyfriend."

I blinked. "Uh...A) I don't want a boyfriend and B) How the fuck are you going to do that?"

"Trust me." he grinned. "I will get you a boyfriend. Someone awesome and sweet and creative and intelligent. Just the type of guy you deserve. If I don't, you can...give me a makeover!"

I sighed. "Fine, fine." and stood up. "It's not allowed to be you, though."

"Damn." Bren shook his head. "That's my idea out the fucking window."

I gave him a look.

"I'm just kidding, I'll find you someone!" he corrected.

"This should be amusing." I sighed, walking toward Miller's office. I glanced in the window, trying to think of what I was going to say. He was sitting at his desk, playing Minesweeper on the computer. Pot, kettle, fucking black. I took a deep breath and checked all the buttons on my shirt were done, then knocked on the door.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: How Many Roads?,

YES! This wins. Sarahhhh...

PLEASE continue ;___; I'll love you EVEN MORE if you do <3
Brendon is fucking awesome in this, and I still stand by my decision that Miller is Ben Miller from Armstrong and Miller ;D

I've never even seen Armstrong and Miller, Caz! But it is pretty weird... :O

And thanks, I appreciate it. <3 I don't know if I'll continue it, though. I might write a little more for myself, but I don't think I'll post it.

;___;
Make sure you send it to me VIA PM then, 'cos i want to read more!

Nope.

*Disappointed*

Okay then

WIIN!

Hahaha, thank you, Ashley. It means a lot. <3

OMJON!! FINISH IT!! FINNNNNNNNNNISHHHHHHHHH IT!!

...

Does that mean you like it?

quote:

Originally posted by How Many Roads?:
Hahaha, thank you, Ashley. It means a lot. <3

Your welcome!

quote:

Originally posted by How Many Roads?:
...

Does that mean you like it?

PSHHHH YES!!!

Oh, hahaha, okay. Thanks, Emily. I really appreciate it.

No problemo!!

*goes to work on own fic*

LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT

Brendon is my freaking savior in this.
He is.

You HAVE to continue.
You just HAVE TO.
Please?!