Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > It Was Just for the Experience
Chapter 8: Mixed Up! at the Disco Part I
1 reviewI'm not really sure....i just found this in an old file. I'm probably not going to be updating this that much, if i ever do again...but i wanted to post this.
0Unrated
I'm not really sure....i just found this in an old file.
I'm probably not going to be updating this that much, if i ever do again...but i wanted to post this. and this is like a half finished chapter...so...yer....i might finish this chapter at least.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 8: Mixed-up! At the Disco
“So, Natalie…” William winked in his flirty manner, “About this…thing Pete’s throwing.”
Natalie smiled, flushing a little at his wink, “Yeah?” she asked sweetly, taking a moment from counting the pairs of spare drum sticks in the ‘sacred drum stick bag’.
William poked her in the stomach and flashed a grin, “You know you’re awfully cute when you blush.”
Natalie rolled her eyes, “You know, that’s one of the most cliché lines ever, dumbass.”
“Ouch.” He pretended to look hurt, “maybe I won’t ask what I was about to ask then.”
“Maybe I don’t care.” Natalie smirked, “OH, what now?”
“Sup, Liz.” Jon grinned, spying the petite girl fiddling with some microphone wires.
“Not much, slaving away for the sake of the common good, a.k.a your show.” She said, but graced him with a smile nonetheless.
“Sleep well?” He asked, nudging her playfully.
“Yeah, you make a great pillow. Can I sleep with you more often?” She stopped, quirked her head, then commented, “You know, that sounded really wrong.”
“Yes. It did. Wanna coffee break?”
“Can you get a Starbucks discount?” She shot back, grinning as he pulled out an old employee card, “Lets go.”
*
“So by the end he was very…” Liz was saying, animatedly waving her hands over her latte.
“Well, and she was very…” Jon added, nodding.
“And they were very…” Liz gave a vague wave of her hand, realizing with a little drop in her stomach how much she was talking (and talking).
“I know, very.” Jon nodded as they both settled down into their seats, a comfortable silence hung over them for a moment.
“But it’s definitely one of the best books ever.” Liz commented, twisting her tongue over the lid of her coffee cup, trying to get the rest of the foam.
“Mm….want a spoon?” He teased with a wink, “Otherwise you’ll get even more foam on your nose”
Liz’s hand flew to her face, eyes wide and shocked, “Hey! That wasn’t funny.” She exclaimed when she realized he was joking.
“It was funny for me...” He smiled at her across the little table, somewhat shyly.
“Anyway, so where was I? Oh yeah, so at eight years old I had been on the swim team for two years or so, yeah two years I think, and like…seriously it was good for me. Like I had the best tan I’d ever had in my life, and I was like…ripped. Seriously man. I never had the tan or the abs again.” She sighed reminiscently.
“Really? Well sure you’re pale, but not abnormally so, and size wise, you’re like Ryan’s size at the waist, and you’ve got a butt shaped like Brendon’s only not as big. So I think you’re fine.”
“I’ve got Brendon’s ass? What?” Liz asked, turning slightly in her chair to look at her backside, “but he’s got serious back…”
“Not like that… I mean it’s got the apple shape…sort of… I don’t know.”
“Why are we talking about my butt?” She asked, laughing after the slightly awkward pause.
“I don’t know, we were talking about us at age eight, weren’t we?” Jon chuckled, “Well I was your typical baseball card collecting, action figure crazed eight year old boy. I was probably more black and blue from running around all day than anything else. And of course my brothers and I would always beat up on each other, which added to the bruising.” Liz laughed, “my brother was more interested in adjusting lights to make a short film than beating up anyone.” She interjected.
“We should head back, yeah?” Liz said suddenly, deciding that she’d procured as much foam as she could.
Jon stretched languidly, his hands over his head, surveying the brunette in front of him, “How’s the stress factor so far?” He asked.
“Good, good…I mean if I have deadlines that I come to close to I start to freak normally, but we’ve got a routine going on so the pressure….I guess I’m used to it. Y’know? I probably sound like an OCD freak.” She giggled nervously.
“Please, how do you think we feel performing in front of millions of people? I mean these people kind of decide our future. If they don’t like us, we’re over. But why worry too much right? You’re only human.” He said good-naturedly, “and yeah…I guess we should go.”
“Well, well, well.” Grace smiled knowingly as Liz walked past the sound booth, “Guess who had to set up the mics because someone took a coffee break?”
“I got you a mocha frapp?” Liz giggled, holding up her peace offering.
“Well you’re somewhat redeemed, but what’s going on?” Grace accepted the coffee, but refused to let Liz go without asking.
“Nothing!” Liz said a little too quickly, “Well, he’s sweet, and we get on great, but we’re friends! Haven’t you ever heard of girls being friends with guys?”
“Sure, sure.” Grace said, obviously not convinced, she knew her friend well, and knew that her insecurities would prohibit her from ‘going and getting ‘em’. She knew that Liz would talk herself into believing that the guy didn’t care, and would in return pretend not to care as well. Grace hoped to god that one of them would be proactive once they realized how well they got on together.
“Fine, I had an awesome time hanging out with him.” Liz admitted, as she gave Grace a shy smile, “but….well you know… I don’t want to move to fast, otherwise it would be awkward.”
“It worked for me so far,” Grace grinned, referring to her and Ryan’s instant relationship, “Besides I’ve seen you and Jon joking around, hanging out before hand during shows, after shows, at night, sitting next to each other when we all watch movies on the road, the way you blush and make it painfully obvious that you’re shy.” Grace laughed and poked Liz.
“Shut up!” Liz mumbled, blushing.
“And finally, the angelic, the lovely, the luscious, Angelica Marie!” the voice of Frank, a member of the Panic! Show, blared from the multitude of speakers around the arena to the screams of the crowd.
A girl strode out onto the stage, she had bright dyed red hair, shoulder length, pulled into a pony tail. She whore pirate-like leggings, a mid-drift shirt that was black and white striped and tied together in the front, bright green and blue wings, a blue butterfly mask, and angel wings upon her head, while her black ballet flats proved her to be a dancer. The look was circus’y and edgy, but it suited her perfectly, it looked natural on her. Opposite from soft spoken Spencer. Which was perhaps why they had been dating since Panic!’s last tour. The crowd and fans loved her, the crew and band (especially Spencer) loved her. This was her first show back after two months of nursing a sprained ankle and strengthen it back into fit dancing condition.
She had given the girls a shock when she climbed onto the bus, suitcase in hand, all smiles and eager to greet. Marie had assured them all that no one would have to move beds as she was staying in Spencer’s bunk, which had the girls a little worried, but she seemed nice enough, like she wouldn’t do anything inappropriate to disrupt the common good.
The show was over and the group was piled into the dressing room winding down.
“Marie!” Spencer had enveloped the girl in a hug, “I missed you so much, you were great.”
“You too sweetie,” Marie cooed, sweetly resting her head on his shoulder, “By the way, you smell.” She grinned, kissing him briefly anyway.
“Well if someone ,” He glared in the direction of Brendon’s surprisingly BAD in-shower singing pointedly, “didn’t hog the first shower…”
The bus lived in relative harmony. It had been several weeks since the girls had joined the tour, and overall there had been no quibbles. Up until recently.
You see, Brendon was a vegan, as was Marie. Natalie had always wanted to give up meat, she never had liked it really, so she was fine with this. Grace always nibbled on snacks throughout the day, as opposed to actual meals, so she didn’t notice the lack of meat. Ryan, Spencer, and Jon were used to Brendon doing the grocery shopping and buying all the food for the bus, and were content to eat what ever they wanted meatwise only when they ate at drive through’s and restaurants. So no one really had any complaints about the meatlessness. Except…
It was around noon and the group was on the road for the third day straight on the way to play a Boston venue. Liz was rummaging through the Panic! Bus refrigerator looking for food when she finally snapped.
“You know, I’m a simple girl.” She started softly, glaring at her bus-mates grouped together on the couches, “I only ask for a comfortable living, and friends." Her rant started to gain volume and momentum, "But a comfortable living includes FOOD! I love fruit and vegetables as much as the next person, really, I do." She was starting to sound maniacal, and quite frankly Spencer was looking rather terrified, "But you can’t FUCKING LIVE ON IT! ” She tossed a package of “deli-thin sliced tofurkey” on Brendon’s lap, with force: he looked thankful that it landed more on his legs than anything...he was fond of, "THIS ISN”T FOOD! If you want to eat turkey, eat turkey! This isn’t turkey!! DON”T YOU PEOPLE HAVE ANY MEAT ON THIS BUS? I WANT MEAT!” She finished, receiving blank stares for her outbursts from everyone but Jon.
“YES!” He cheered, standing up with his arms, hands forming fists, pumped above his head, as if cheering on a team that had just scored a goal, “I love you!” He said to Liz, throwing his arms around her in a giant bear-hug, before he paused and turned to Brendon, “Dude, seriously, meat is good. We need to stock up on some. I mean…. Well..yeah…” He sat down again as Liz rolled her eyes.
“Alright then,” Brendon murmured, looking a bit scared, “meat…it is…then.” He absentmindedly opened the container of tofurkey and stuffed a slice in his mouth, chewing. “Have…have you really felt that way about meat this whole time Jon?” Was all he really added, “You should have told us.”
Liz shook her head to herself. She didn’t know why she was acting so unreasonable. She chalked it up to stress and the inexplicable feeling as if something was supposed to be happening, but wasn’t. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Moodily she curled up on one of the couches and nibbled out of a bowl of popcorn, while everyone tried to act like there hadn't been an insane outburst.
I'm probably not going to be updating this that much, if i ever do again...but i wanted to post this. and this is like a half finished chapter...so...yer....i might finish this chapter at least.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 8: Mixed-up! At the Disco
“So, Natalie…” William winked in his flirty manner, “About this…thing Pete’s throwing.”
Natalie smiled, flushing a little at his wink, “Yeah?” she asked sweetly, taking a moment from counting the pairs of spare drum sticks in the ‘sacred drum stick bag’.
William poked her in the stomach and flashed a grin, “You know you’re awfully cute when you blush.”
Natalie rolled her eyes, “You know, that’s one of the most cliché lines ever, dumbass.”
“Ouch.” He pretended to look hurt, “maybe I won’t ask what I was about to ask then.”
“Maybe I don’t care.” Natalie smirked, “OH, what now?”
“Sup, Liz.” Jon grinned, spying the petite girl fiddling with some microphone wires.
“Not much, slaving away for the sake of the common good, a.k.a your show.” She said, but graced him with a smile nonetheless.
“Sleep well?” He asked, nudging her playfully.
“Yeah, you make a great pillow. Can I sleep with you more often?” She stopped, quirked her head, then commented, “You know, that sounded really wrong.”
“Yes. It did. Wanna coffee break?”
“Can you get a Starbucks discount?” She shot back, grinning as he pulled out an old employee card, “Lets go.”
*
“So by the end he was very…” Liz was saying, animatedly waving her hands over her latte.
“Well, and she was very…” Jon added, nodding.
“And they were very…” Liz gave a vague wave of her hand, realizing with a little drop in her stomach how much she was talking (and talking).
“I know, very.” Jon nodded as they both settled down into their seats, a comfortable silence hung over them for a moment.
“But it’s definitely one of the best books ever.” Liz commented, twisting her tongue over the lid of her coffee cup, trying to get the rest of the foam.
“Mm….want a spoon?” He teased with a wink, “Otherwise you’ll get even more foam on your nose”
Liz’s hand flew to her face, eyes wide and shocked, “Hey! That wasn’t funny.” She exclaimed when she realized he was joking.
“It was funny for me...” He smiled at her across the little table, somewhat shyly.
“Anyway, so where was I? Oh yeah, so at eight years old I had been on the swim team for two years or so, yeah two years I think, and like…seriously it was good for me. Like I had the best tan I’d ever had in my life, and I was like…ripped. Seriously man. I never had the tan or the abs again.” She sighed reminiscently.
“Really? Well sure you’re pale, but not abnormally so, and size wise, you’re like Ryan’s size at the waist, and you’ve got a butt shaped like Brendon’s only not as big. So I think you’re fine.”
“I’ve got Brendon’s ass? What?” Liz asked, turning slightly in her chair to look at her backside, “but he’s got serious back…”
“Not like that… I mean it’s got the apple shape…sort of… I don’t know.”
“Why are we talking about my butt?” She asked, laughing after the slightly awkward pause.
“I don’t know, we were talking about us at age eight, weren’t we?” Jon chuckled, “Well I was your typical baseball card collecting, action figure crazed eight year old boy. I was probably more black and blue from running around all day than anything else. And of course my brothers and I would always beat up on each other, which added to the bruising.” Liz laughed, “my brother was more interested in adjusting lights to make a short film than beating up anyone.” She interjected.
“We should head back, yeah?” Liz said suddenly, deciding that she’d procured as much foam as she could.
Jon stretched languidly, his hands over his head, surveying the brunette in front of him, “How’s the stress factor so far?” He asked.
“Good, good…I mean if I have deadlines that I come to close to I start to freak normally, but we’ve got a routine going on so the pressure….I guess I’m used to it. Y’know? I probably sound like an OCD freak.” She giggled nervously.
“Please, how do you think we feel performing in front of millions of people? I mean these people kind of decide our future. If they don’t like us, we’re over. But why worry too much right? You’re only human.” He said good-naturedly, “and yeah…I guess we should go.”
“Well, well, well.” Grace smiled knowingly as Liz walked past the sound booth, “Guess who had to set up the mics because someone took a coffee break?”
“I got you a mocha frapp?” Liz giggled, holding up her peace offering.
“Well you’re somewhat redeemed, but what’s going on?” Grace accepted the coffee, but refused to let Liz go without asking.
“Nothing!” Liz said a little too quickly, “Well, he’s sweet, and we get on great, but we’re friends! Haven’t you ever heard of girls being friends with guys?”
“Sure, sure.” Grace said, obviously not convinced, she knew her friend well, and knew that her insecurities would prohibit her from ‘going and getting ‘em’. She knew that Liz would talk herself into believing that the guy didn’t care, and would in return pretend not to care as well. Grace hoped to god that one of them would be proactive once they realized how well they got on together.
“Fine, I had an awesome time hanging out with him.” Liz admitted, as she gave Grace a shy smile, “but….well you know… I don’t want to move to fast, otherwise it would be awkward.”
“It worked for me so far,” Grace grinned, referring to her and Ryan’s instant relationship, “Besides I’ve seen you and Jon joking around, hanging out before hand during shows, after shows, at night, sitting next to each other when we all watch movies on the road, the way you blush and make it painfully obvious that you’re shy.” Grace laughed and poked Liz.
“Shut up!” Liz mumbled, blushing.
“And finally, the angelic, the lovely, the luscious, Angelica Marie!” the voice of Frank, a member of the Panic! Show, blared from the multitude of speakers around the arena to the screams of the crowd.
A girl strode out onto the stage, she had bright dyed red hair, shoulder length, pulled into a pony tail. She whore pirate-like leggings, a mid-drift shirt that was black and white striped and tied together in the front, bright green and blue wings, a blue butterfly mask, and angel wings upon her head, while her black ballet flats proved her to be a dancer. The look was circus’y and edgy, but it suited her perfectly, it looked natural on her. Opposite from soft spoken Spencer. Which was perhaps why they had been dating since Panic!’s last tour. The crowd and fans loved her, the crew and band (especially Spencer) loved her. This was her first show back after two months of nursing a sprained ankle and strengthen it back into fit dancing condition.
She had given the girls a shock when she climbed onto the bus, suitcase in hand, all smiles and eager to greet. Marie had assured them all that no one would have to move beds as she was staying in Spencer’s bunk, which had the girls a little worried, but she seemed nice enough, like she wouldn’t do anything inappropriate to disrupt the common good.
The show was over and the group was piled into the dressing room winding down.
“Marie!” Spencer had enveloped the girl in a hug, “I missed you so much, you were great.”
“You too sweetie,” Marie cooed, sweetly resting her head on his shoulder, “By the way, you smell.” She grinned, kissing him briefly anyway.
“Well if someone ,” He glared in the direction of Brendon’s surprisingly BAD in-shower singing pointedly, “didn’t hog the first shower…”
The bus lived in relative harmony. It had been several weeks since the girls had joined the tour, and overall there had been no quibbles. Up until recently.
You see, Brendon was a vegan, as was Marie. Natalie had always wanted to give up meat, she never had liked it really, so she was fine with this. Grace always nibbled on snacks throughout the day, as opposed to actual meals, so she didn’t notice the lack of meat. Ryan, Spencer, and Jon were used to Brendon doing the grocery shopping and buying all the food for the bus, and were content to eat what ever they wanted meatwise only when they ate at drive through’s and restaurants. So no one really had any complaints about the meatlessness. Except…
It was around noon and the group was on the road for the third day straight on the way to play a Boston venue. Liz was rummaging through the Panic! Bus refrigerator looking for food when she finally snapped.
“You know, I’m a simple girl.” She started softly, glaring at her bus-mates grouped together on the couches, “I only ask for a comfortable living, and friends." Her rant started to gain volume and momentum, "But a comfortable living includes FOOD! I love fruit and vegetables as much as the next person, really, I do." She was starting to sound maniacal, and quite frankly Spencer was looking rather terrified, "But you can’t FUCKING LIVE ON IT! ” She tossed a package of “deli-thin sliced tofurkey” on Brendon’s lap, with force: he looked thankful that it landed more on his legs than anything...he was fond of, "THIS ISN”T FOOD! If you want to eat turkey, eat turkey! This isn’t turkey!! DON”T YOU PEOPLE HAVE ANY MEAT ON THIS BUS? I WANT MEAT!” She finished, receiving blank stares for her outbursts from everyone but Jon.
“YES!” He cheered, standing up with his arms, hands forming fists, pumped above his head, as if cheering on a team that had just scored a goal, “I love you!” He said to Liz, throwing his arms around her in a giant bear-hug, before he paused and turned to Brendon, “Dude, seriously, meat is good. We need to stock up on some. I mean…. Well..yeah…” He sat down again as Liz rolled her eyes.
“Alright then,” Brendon murmured, looking a bit scared, “meat…it is…then.” He absentmindedly opened the container of tofurkey and stuffed a slice in his mouth, chewing. “Have…have you really felt that way about meat this whole time Jon?” Was all he really added, “You should have told us.”
Liz shook her head to herself. She didn’t know why she was acting so unreasonable. She chalked it up to stress and the inexplicable feeling as if something was supposed to be happening, but wasn’t. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Moodily she curled up on one of the couches and nibbled out of a bowl of popcorn, while everyone tried to act like there hadn't been an insane outburst.
Sign up to rate and review this story