FicWad

Author's Note: PROM IS THIS FRIDAY. MADNESS! (Just so you know, that's the reason why I probably won't be updating until some time next week.)

THANK YOUS
somethingorother: "Make You Smile" is one of my favorites, too.

F-A-S-D: Haha! Another song I have in common with you guys! Whenever I hear "Guilty Pleasure" I have to do the dance that goes along with it ;) On another note, I'm glad you enjoyed the make up sex.

tryingtohard_x: Lmao @ like a boss. Hmm. I'm not really sure what inspired me to start writing fanfics. The first ones I read were about Shawn and Belle from Days of Out Lives (back when those roles were played by Kirsten Storms and Jason Cook), then I started reading Simple Plan stuff, then Fall Out Boy. I guess after reading so much, I was all "Hey, I think I could write something too." I guess an added factor is that my love life has been anything but ideal. When I write, I can make the plot go whichever way I want. lol.

doyleangel: I miss Panic when they used to have the exclamation point...

ash360: Coffeshop Soundtrack video, ftw! Poppin' Champagne is pretty good, too. Gotta love the choreography.


STORYTIME.

Get down.

“How are you feeling tonight, Chicago?” Martin asked into the microphone.

The entire venue responded with excited screams, as well as a few “I LOVE YOU, MARTIN”s.

“I think Paul feels the same. After all, it is his birthday.”

Another wave of screams were emitted from the crowd as Martin wrapped an arm around the lanky guitarist.

“So was I right? Are you feeling the love in this room?”
“Yeah, I guess,” the guitarist replied into his microphone.
“You guess?” he said, turning back to the massive crowd before the stage. “C’MON, CHICAGO! SHOW THIS BOY SOME LOVE!”

The crowd roared once again, even louder than the last time.

“Okay, that’s more like it. Now you see, this is Poolie’s first birthday away from home. His mom usually makes him a huge cake, so to make up for that, we decided to make him an extra huge cake.

With that, Hunter, Drew, Travis, Danny, and I rolled a massive, triple-layered, vanilla birthday cake onto the stage. It must have been at least four feet tall.

Paul stood there, speechless, as we all gathered around him. Travis pulled out a lighter and lit the candles while the rest of us engulfed him in a group hug.

“Now on the count of three, I want everyone to start singing, alright?” Martin said. “One, two, three!”

‘Happy Birthday’ echoed throughout the venue as Paul stood there, with a huge grin on his face.

“Okay, now make a wish.”

Cheers and applause erupted from the audience as Paul blew out the candles. Then, just as we’d planned, my brother popped out of the cake, wearing only a pair of tightie whities.

Before Paul even had time to react, Jack pulled him toward the cake and into a hug, successfully covering him with vanilla frosting.

High pitched screams were elicited from the crowd, adding to the chaos that was unfolding.

Jack eventually let go of the birthday boy and grabbed the microphone from Martin. Still standing inside of the massive cake, he wiped some frosting off his chest and licked it off his fingers.

“This is pretty damn good cake, if I do say so myself,” he said, before turning back to Paul.

“So what’s running through your mind right now, Poolie?”
“I think that you guys are fucking amazing,” he replied, chuckling.
“Then my job here is done.”

He tossed the mic back to Martin and pointed backstage.

“Onward, trusty steed!” he commanded, striking a ridiculous, ‘I-am-SPARTA!’ pose.

WTK and I took this as our cue, and after giving Paul another round of hugs, we rolled my brother and the demolished cake off the stage.

“Did you see the look on his face?” Jack asked, hopping out of the lopsided dessert. “It was fucking priceless.
“Just so you know, I’m expecting a big ass cake for my birthday too,” I said. “But I have a different half-naked boy in mind.”
“I think that can be arranged,” Alex said, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Really? You think Gabe Saporta would be down for it?”
“Ha ha, funny,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I know,” I said, smirking.

As I turned my attention back to the stage, he placed his arms around me once again and rested his chin on my shoulder.

“So… That Jack. He’s a sexy beast, isn’t he?” Martin asked.

“Fuck yes!” someone in the crowd screamed.

Paul took his mic and looked down at the vanilla mess my brother had smeared all over the front of his jeans. Then he looked up at the crowd and broke into laughter.

“God, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Jack Barakat made me cream my pants.”

My brother took this as a huge compliment and started doing dancing around in his underwear while the rest of us broke into laughter.

Two hours later, the concert was over, but energy was just as high.

“After the show it’s the afterparty!” Alex sang as we made our way to the bus.
“And after the party it’s the hotel lobby!” Jack added.
“Around about 4 you gotta clear the lobby!”
“Then take it to BLG’s room and drink all of their Bacardi!”

At the hotel, we quickly dropped our bags off at our respective rooms, then headed straight to Paul’s birthday festivities.

“Glad you guys could make it,” Martin greeted, passing each of us a shot of tequila as we walked through the door.

“To Poolie!” I said raising my glass. The six of us clinked glasses and downed the clear liquid.

Then, as if on cue, Paul noticed our little group and walked over.

“Happy birthday, man,” Alex said, wrapping him into a handshake-hug.

Yeah. I know. It surprised me, too. Now exactly sure how it happened, but I guess Alex got over the whole ‘if-he-even-looks-at-you-I’ll-murder-him’ phase.

“Thanks, Gaskarth.”

“Promise to save me a dance later?” Jack asked.
“Of course. Just as long as you don’t make me cream my pants again,” Paul replied. “Oh, wait… Damn. Too late.”
“Okay, before this gets anymore awkward, I’m gonna walk away,” Zack commented, pointing toward the pizza.
“Me, too,” Rian added.

I laughed and set my shot glass onto the counter. Martin took this as a signal for a refill.

“Ready for a rematch?” he asked, pouring himself another.
“Sure. But do you really want to embarrass yourself again?” I replied, following him to the couch.
“Those are pretty big words for such a tiny girl.”
“Well this tiny girl is gonna wipe the floor with your drunk ass.”
“We’ll see about that. Bottom’s up.”

And so it began.

5 shots in, we were both still talking shit.

10 shots in, I was definitely feeling it. My face was warm and I found myself swaying from side to side.

15 shots in, everything tasted like water.

“Had enough?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he replied, pouring himself another drink.

But just as he filled my glass, his eyes went wide. He haphazardly set the bottle down and ran to the bathroom.

“Oh shit, Martin. Are you alright?” Drew asked as the singer emptied the contents of his stomach. He vomited once more in response.

In my inebriated state, I couldn’t help but giggle as the scene unfolded before me.

“Didja win?” Alex asked, swaying as a goofy grin spread across his face.
“Mhmm,” I replied, nodding.
“That’s good. I’m proud of you… Really proud.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, sloppily kissing me. “In fact, I think we should have a victory toast.”

Giggling, I followed him to the kitchen and tossed back a shot of tequila.

As more people poured into the room, the rest of the night went pretty much the same: kiss, laugh, drink, repeat.

+++++

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Q&A #3: If you could only eat one food and drink one drink for the rest of your life, what would they be? (Assume that the nutritional values of said food and drink were enough to keep you alive, and that you won't experience any weight gain.)

For a food, I'd choose tekka maki. For a drink, I'd choose a mango smoothie.

And as tryingtohard_x did, feel free to ask me any questions you have. I'd be happy to answer.