Oh, she was definitely cute, he thought; maybe he just had a thing for intimidating girls.
She smiled nervously at them all. In truth, Fritzi wasn't all that nervous, but visible anxiousness seemed to put most of the bands at ease. "Hi!" she said, slowly extending an arm to whoever would take her hand first, "I'm Fritzi Stern."
"Stern? You're Stern?" was all Spencer could say, utterly shocked to see that one of the most catty, daunting journalists out there was his age.
Brendon, on the other hand, grinned widely and shook her hand, giving her a subtle once over. Oh, she was definitely cute, he thought; maybe he just had a thing for intimidating girls. "I'm-"
"Brendon," she interrupted, shaking his hand firmly before releasing it. (Brendon secretly flexed his fingers afterwards- what a fucking manly handshake!). "And, Jon, Spencer, and Ryan," she continued, nodding at each of the respective members as she shook their hands, "I do my research." Her keen eyes landed on the snickering girl hiding behind one of the body guards. "And, this is Saffron?"
Saffron, in turn, looked up in surprise, turning her smirk into a beam; normally, it would take her ages to warm up to someone, but when it came to girls who scared these boys shitless- well, that was a different story. "In the flesh. I'm just a tagalong for a few stops," she said, stepping forward and nodding politely.
"Wonderful," Fritzi said with a prim smile. She had taken a bit of interest in Ryan Ross's performer girlfriend, especially after that morning show incident some months ago, and the fact that this couple was the most public (well, relatively) one out of all the band's relationships. Yes, she said to herself, this would be a great addition to the article- a tiny, personal, romantic fluff for the teeny bopper readers.
"Does the interview start now?" Ryan asked, automatically slipping an arm around Saffron's slight shoulders.
"Oh, no," Fritzi replied quickly, shaking her head as she gave a little laugh. "I'm not that horrible; you all need to rest, eat, and enjoy the hotel before you get to the arena. I'll be seeing you around then?" As they all mumbled answers, she gave another smile before heading off. "My room is 1142 if you have any questions!"
"Well, I like her," Saffron stated, once they were checked in and their luggage was loaded onto various carts. Everyone packed into the relatively large elevator, which wasn't too much of a problem, considering how skinny the majority of the occupants were.
"She was the one who tore apart the Fall Out Boy album," Spencer said, shaking his head, still very much flabbergasted.
Brendon grinned and lightly elbowed his friend in the ribs. "Is itty bitty Spencer Smith scared of little Fritzi Stern? Just think about how cute she is and forget that she's interviewing us," he stated, nodding as if all this was very sagacious, "What's the worst she can say?"
"That we suck and we should never, ever make another record again," quipped Jon.
"Aw, stop that shit," Saffron said abruptly, surprising even Ryan, who had grown accustomed to her outbursts, "what the hell happened to you guys? She's just another reporter- she might be one of the best, but, hello, she's your age, she's your peer- you can't let her get all intimidating." She blinked- now where on earth did that come from? Maybe the little theatre elitist cared about Panic more than she thought.
As her boyfriend, Ryan was the first to catch this: "Oh, Saff, you care," he said, planting a smacker on her now-pouting lips.
"Mr. Urie, you have a phone call from room 1142, will you accept?"
Brendon's smirk widened- it was Fritzi's room wasn't it? Oh, he was on a roll. "Of course I do."
"Hello, Brendon" said the very seductive voice on the other line. Oh, no, this couldn't be the sensible girl he had met earlier that afternoon.
Could it? No, it couldn't be. "Musetta, fancy running into you here, so to speak," he said, casually leaning against the red and gold wallpaper, a hand shoved into the pocket of his skinny jeans. Oh, he tried his hardest to look casual, as if he received phone calls from sexy socialites all the time, but within, his heart was racing. God, even the sound of her voice...
She laughed, "I told you, darling, you'd be seeing me soon. Didn't think it was this soon, did you?" Musetta ignored the blatant scoffing coming from Fritzi and ticked a wavy piece of hair behind her ear as the passed the mirror. Their joint suites were just breathtaking, though, of course, not up to her high Manhattan standards. She gracefully perched herself on the Victorian chaise by the window.
"I should have expected it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, trying not to let his chuckle sound nervous. "I assume you want to meet me somewhere?"
"Oh, now, you're cutting to the chase, dear," Musetta purred, sensing his apprehension from the floor above. "Well, if you're interested-" Of course, he was interested, she thought to herself with a smirk. "I'll be on the viewing floor with all the balconies- I do need a bit of air after being cooped up in my private jet for so long."
"You poor thing- I'll meet you up there in five."
"Five minutes? Oh, darling, I need to freshen up in-"
"Five minutes," he repeated with a huge grin, just before hanging up the phone. Brendon knew how to take charge as well, and hew was determined to prove that to her.
Note: Oooh-er, you know smexiness is going to follow, so I suggest you keep reading this fic. ;P