Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Valerie
Rehearsals were scheduled to begin the following afternoon. I was to meet the boys at Brendon’s house by 5 so we could start preparing for the upcoming tour. My stomach felt as if it were in a thousand knots, each of which were pulling a separate way—trying desperately to run away from each other. I was no longer in my comfort zone and all of my previous confidence had disappeared. My sister was right; I wasn’t good enough to be in a famous band. I was not ready for this. I was barely an adult, if you would consider me one at all. A fresh-faced eighteen-year-old, straight out of high school; I did not belong in the big sea. Yet, there I was, looking at myself through a mirror and that’s exactly what I saw—a young girl, vulnerable and innocent, terrified and resilient, ready to take on the world in a thousand different ways. Whether I was ready or not, I was coming. And I would make a bang. A shattering, thunderous bang that would echo throughout the town-no, the world- I would crash down upon the dreams of a million fans. I would become an idol, a heart-throb, a musician—I would become Valerie Grigori.
I spent the day getting ready and listening to the radio. It was all surreal—how could everything change within such a short time period? Anxious and apprehensive, my eyes darted to the clock across the room. After seeing how yesterday had went, I wasn’t exactly excited to test out the waters again. Terrified of the potential damage I may be inflicting on this bands well-being, I grabbed my keys and drug my feet as I walked outside to my Neon. My entire life, I had always dreamed of finally “making it” and becoming a star—I had thought that it would cure all of my problems, that I would finally be satisfied. But I wasn’t satisfied. I was stuck in a band that most certainly did not want me; I had once again put myself in a situation where I was unwanted.
I sang along to the radio, bouncing from station to station during commercials. “Panic! At The Disco has made a statement…” I flipped back through, trying to find the radio station that was reporting on Panic!. “It looks like they have officially added a new member to the band. Member, Spencer Smith posted a letter to his fans on their official website last night stating that the long hours of auditioning for a guitarist would finally be over. Could this mean that Panic! At the Disco may finally return to their prized-energetic style? Let’s hope so! Tell us what you think about the new addition by tweeting your thoughts, posting on our facebook, or calling in to the station. We leave you with Paramore’s new single, “Still Into You!” I couldn’t believe that within one day the public already knew about me—I truly was stuck now. Three more songs came on before there was another round of commercials. “We’ve had a surprisingly large amount of calls in response to Panic! At The Disco’s new band member. Alyssa is on the air now. How are you, Alyssa?”
A young girl’s voice came over the air, she sounded like she was maybe 15 or 16 years old. I suddenly could imagine myself in her, a young fan girl that chased after other’s dreams. “What can you tell us about the new member? Do we know who he is?” Why does everyone automatically think I must be a man?
“At the moment, we don’t have much information about him. We actually don’t know who he is at all. All we have to go by is what the band has chosen to announce which is just that the position has been filled. Although, we do have some speculations as to who the new member is. Possibly, Christopher Allen from Neon Trees or Barry Stock from Three Days Grace; both of these guys have been spotted with the band.” Great, they have such high expectations, they are about to be greatly disappointed. “Thank you for calling, Alyssa. Now we have Jacob on the phone. Hello, Jacob!”
“Hi Rob, I just wanted to call and give my two cents.” It sounded like an older man, probably a long-time fan of Panic!
“Go right ahead. We’re all ears.”
“I’ve loved the band since before A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out. I saw them perform before they released music, when they were strictly a cover band—I loved them then. I loved Fever and even Pretty. Odd. because there was so much apparent passion behind each track. I personally hated Vices and Virtues; maybe it’s because they took a different path in their career, but I doubt that. I hope this new guitarist can set them straight on their path again. Ideally, they need a guitarist who is experienced and knows what he’s doing in this industry or else they will never recover as a band. I have so many mixed feelings about this. I’m not sure if a commitment to a new member is what they need as a band, but I can only hope that they come back with the same energy and excitement as they did the first day they performed. If not, I personally know I am not the only one that will give up and quit listening to them.”
“That is such a good observation. It’s true too—maybe that’s what they need. Let’s just hope that they were smart with their selection and that we are left with a great and solid band in the end.” I had finally pulled into Brendon’s driveway. Contemplating whether or not I should stay in my car and continue listening to the broadcast or if I should go inside. I decided on the latter, it seemed a lot less risky.
“I think there is too much hype about them. I had finally grown to not having to listen to them on the radio. I just hope all of this hurries up so I can go back to not having to hear about them. They’d be best off just breaking up all together so we could…” There was a knock on my window which made me jump inside my seat. I felt quite ridiculous when I looked up, only to be met by the eyes of Spencer. I turned my radio down and rolled my window down.
“Are you planning on getting out or sitting in there all day?” I sat there, eyes opened wide; chewing on my lip—resembling a child caught stealing out of the cookie jar. Spencer laughed and lightened his voice, “I promise we don’t bite.”
“Yeah, of course. I don’t know what I was doing actually…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t know what to say to him. I was completely out of my element, what had I gotten myself into? I got out of my car and locked the doors. I followed Spencer to the front door, feeling strange about not knocking before walking in.
“Found her!” Spencer yelled down the hallways. The walls were stale white, with nothing hanging from the walls, no achievements or pictures, nothing. I could faintly hear the sound of voices coming from the end of the hall.
“I miss the old Panic! too, Rob. I remember being 15 and seeing their Fever concert. It was my first concert and it was amazing. I miss Ryan being in the band, I just wish the band would return to how it used to be.” They were listening to the same broadcast as I had been listening to in the car.
“I think everyone misses Ryan, but I don’t see him coming back anytime soon.” Brendon shut the radio off and rolled his chair around to face us. He looked truly perturbed and his eyes were sunken in as if he hadn’t slept in days—he looked terrible.
“Bren, they don’t know what they’re talking about. Really, don’t even listen to what they say, bro.” Spencer tried to comfort his best friend but Brendon was already too upset.
“Those are our fans, Spencer! Those are the people who pay for our fancy cars and nice houses. And what do they want? They want Ryan, not Valerie! They want an asshole who did not even want to be in our band!” Brendon could call somebody an asshole—I think not! Ryan was smart for getting out.
“Well Brendon, would you like to get Ryan back?” Spencer was obviously being sarcastic—but I even felt a twinge of pain from the look that Brendon sent Spencer.
I interrupted the boy’s argument, “Should I leave?”
For the first time, Brendon acknowledged me. “No, stay—anything is better than that piece of shit.” That gave me a confidence boost, great to know that I was so highly acclaimed for.
I took a seat towards the back of the room—as far away from the boys as possible. I could still hear everything they said and see their expressions clearly. “Why do you have to be so harsh on him, Brendon?”
“He deserves so much worse than I give him. You have no idea, Spencer—no idea.” There was more to the “Ryan- situation” than Brendon was telling us. There was no possible way that a man could harbor so much hatred toward another for musical-differences.
“He asked about you, yesterday.” Spencer mumbled under his breath. He didn’t intend on Brendon hearing him, but at the recollection of Brendon’s expression, Spencer looked straight into Brendon’s eyes and growled, “And do you know what I told him?”
“Can we just drop it?” Brendon turned away from Spencer and started walking toward me. If I hadn’t of known better, I would have thought that Brendon had tears in his eyes—but I knew that couldn’t be, Brendon would never cry.
“No, Brendon, we can’t! I told him that you’re turning into a bitter man that is full of hatred. I told him that you’re an asshole and that I have no clue why we ever put up with you! The fans are right, Ryan and Jon shouldn’t have left—you should have!” Spencer was fuming at this point; he too had walked toward me. I squeezed around them and bee-lined for the front door. I was leaving, whether they wanted me to stay or not.
“Thanks, that’s great to hear from you. “ Brendon had followed me to the door. There was something in the look on Brendon’s face that worried me and I had decided that I would not leave him. Brendon turned around to face Spencer; he laughed a loud-crazy laugh. “I’m only going to say this much, you have no clue what happened with us. You know how to let yourself out, lock up after.”
I stood staring in disbelief at the two guys. Brendon walked past me and right out the front door. Spencer looked at me and smiled a barely-there grin. “I guess we’ll have to take a rain check.” He tried to laugh but I could tell it was forced. I simply nodded my head before closing the door behind me and catching up with Brendon.
He was already at his car, fighting with his keys to unlock the door. His hands were shaking and his face was flushed red. I took the keys from his hand and shook my head at him. “You’re not driving anywhere. If you want to leave, I’ll drive you wherever you want to go. But I refuse to let you drive while you’re in this state.”
Brendon stared at me, a blank expression on his face, before he slightly smiled at me. “Are you sure that’s not just your way of finding a way to kill me after the way I’ve treated you?”
I laughed, “Now that I think about it, that sounds like a great idea. But no, I promise I don’t have a gun or knife hidden anywhere. And I’m not too strong so you don’t have to worry about me beating you up. You’re lucky if I can figure out how to open my pepper spray.” I unlocked my car and we both got inside.
“Every other person I know would have just left me alone. I don’t understand you at all.” But I wasn’t every other person. I had a heart and a conscience—and a brain. With my luck, he’d have gotten in a wreck and killed somebody and it would have been my fault.
As I turned the key over, the engine revved up. I put the car in reverse and looked through my rearview mirror. Backing the car up, I turned my attention to Brendon, “Well I believe in second chances too.”
I spent the day getting ready and listening to the radio. It was all surreal—how could everything change within such a short time period? Anxious and apprehensive, my eyes darted to the clock across the room. After seeing how yesterday had went, I wasn’t exactly excited to test out the waters again. Terrified of the potential damage I may be inflicting on this bands well-being, I grabbed my keys and drug my feet as I walked outside to my Neon. My entire life, I had always dreamed of finally “making it” and becoming a star—I had thought that it would cure all of my problems, that I would finally be satisfied. But I wasn’t satisfied. I was stuck in a band that most certainly did not want me; I had once again put myself in a situation where I was unwanted.
I sang along to the radio, bouncing from station to station during commercials. “Panic! At The Disco has made a statement…” I flipped back through, trying to find the radio station that was reporting on Panic!. “It looks like they have officially added a new member to the band. Member, Spencer Smith posted a letter to his fans on their official website last night stating that the long hours of auditioning for a guitarist would finally be over. Could this mean that Panic! At the Disco may finally return to their prized-energetic style? Let’s hope so! Tell us what you think about the new addition by tweeting your thoughts, posting on our facebook, or calling in to the station. We leave you with Paramore’s new single, “Still Into You!” I couldn’t believe that within one day the public already knew about me—I truly was stuck now. Three more songs came on before there was another round of commercials. “We’ve had a surprisingly large amount of calls in response to Panic! At The Disco’s new band member. Alyssa is on the air now. How are you, Alyssa?”
A young girl’s voice came over the air, she sounded like she was maybe 15 or 16 years old. I suddenly could imagine myself in her, a young fan girl that chased after other’s dreams. “What can you tell us about the new member? Do we know who he is?” Why does everyone automatically think I must be a man?
“At the moment, we don’t have much information about him. We actually don’t know who he is at all. All we have to go by is what the band has chosen to announce which is just that the position has been filled. Although, we do have some speculations as to who the new member is. Possibly, Christopher Allen from Neon Trees or Barry Stock from Three Days Grace; both of these guys have been spotted with the band.” Great, they have such high expectations, they are about to be greatly disappointed. “Thank you for calling, Alyssa. Now we have Jacob on the phone. Hello, Jacob!”
“Hi Rob, I just wanted to call and give my two cents.” It sounded like an older man, probably a long-time fan of Panic!
“Go right ahead. We’re all ears.”
“I’ve loved the band since before A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out. I saw them perform before they released music, when they were strictly a cover band—I loved them then. I loved Fever and even Pretty. Odd. because there was so much apparent passion behind each track. I personally hated Vices and Virtues; maybe it’s because they took a different path in their career, but I doubt that. I hope this new guitarist can set them straight on their path again. Ideally, they need a guitarist who is experienced and knows what he’s doing in this industry or else they will never recover as a band. I have so many mixed feelings about this. I’m not sure if a commitment to a new member is what they need as a band, but I can only hope that they come back with the same energy and excitement as they did the first day they performed. If not, I personally know I am not the only one that will give up and quit listening to them.”
“That is such a good observation. It’s true too—maybe that’s what they need. Let’s just hope that they were smart with their selection and that we are left with a great and solid band in the end.” I had finally pulled into Brendon’s driveway. Contemplating whether or not I should stay in my car and continue listening to the broadcast or if I should go inside. I decided on the latter, it seemed a lot less risky.
“I think there is too much hype about them. I had finally grown to not having to listen to them on the radio. I just hope all of this hurries up so I can go back to not having to hear about them. They’d be best off just breaking up all together so we could…” There was a knock on my window which made me jump inside my seat. I felt quite ridiculous when I looked up, only to be met by the eyes of Spencer. I turned my radio down and rolled my window down.
“Are you planning on getting out or sitting in there all day?” I sat there, eyes opened wide; chewing on my lip—resembling a child caught stealing out of the cookie jar. Spencer laughed and lightened his voice, “I promise we don’t bite.”
“Yeah, of course. I don’t know what I was doing actually…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t know what to say to him. I was completely out of my element, what had I gotten myself into? I got out of my car and locked the doors. I followed Spencer to the front door, feeling strange about not knocking before walking in.
“Found her!” Spencer yelled down the hallways. The walls were stale white, with nothing hanging from the walls, no achievements or pictures, nothing. I could faintly hear the sound of voices coming from the end of the hall.
“I miss the old Panic! too, Rob. I remember being 15 and seeing their Fever concert. It was my first concert and it was amazing. I miss Ryan being in the band, I just wish the band would return to how it used to be.” They were listening to the same broadcast as I had been listening to in the car.
“I think everyone misses Ryan, but I don’t see him coming back anytime soon.” Brendon shut the radio off and rolled his chair around to face us. He looked truly perturbed and his eyes were sunken in as if he hadn’t slept in days—he looked terrible.
“Bren, they don’t know what they’re talking about. Really, don’t even listen to what they say, bro.” Spencer tried to comfort his best friend but Brendon was already too upset.
“Those are our fans, Spencer! Those are the people who pay for our fancy cars and nice houses. And what do they want? They want Ryan, not Valerie! They want an asshole who did not even want to be in our band!” Brendon could call somebody an asshole—I think not! Ryan was smart for getting out.
“Well Brendon, would you like to get Ryan back?” Spencer was obviously being sarcastic—but I even felt a twinge of pain from the look that Brendon sent Spencer.
I interrupted the boy’s argument, “Should I leave?”
For the first time, Brendon acknowledged me. “No, stay—anything is better than that piece of shit.” That gave me a confidence boost, great to know that I was so highly acclaimed for.
I took a seat towards the back of the room—as far away from the boys as possible. I could still hear everything they said and see their expressions clearly. “Why do you have to be so harsh on him, Brendon?”
“He deserves so much worse than I give him. You have no idea, Spencer—no idea.” There was more to the “Ryan- situation” than Brendon was telling us. There was no possible way that a man could harbor so much hatred toward another for musical-differences.
“He asked about you, yesterday.” Spencer mumbled under his breath. He didn’t intend on Brendon hearing him, but at the recollection of Brendon’s expression, Spencer looked straight into Brendon’s eyes and growled, “And do you know what I told him?”
“Can we just drop it?” Brendon turned away from Spencer and started walking toward me. If I hadn’t of known better, I would have thought that Brendon had tears in his eyes—but I knew that couldn’t be, Brendon would never cry.
“No, Brendon, we can’t! I told him that you’re turning into a bitter man that is full of hatred. I told him that you’re an asshole and that I have no clue why we ever put up with you! The fans are right, Ryan and Jon shouldn’t have left—you should have!” Spencer was fuming at this point; he too had walked toward me. I squeezed around them and bee-lined for the front door. I was leaving, whether they wanted me to stay or not.
“Thanks, that’s great to hear from you. “ Brendon had followed me to the door. There was something in the look on Brendon’s face that worried me and I had decided that I would not leave him. Brendon turned around to face Spencer; he laughed a loud-crazy laugh. “I’m only going to say this much, you have no clue what happened with us. You know how to let yourself out, lock up after.”
I stood staring in disbelief at the two guys. Brendon walked past me and right out the front door. Spencer looked at me and smiled a barely-there grin. “I guess we’ll have to take a rain check.” He tried to laugh but I could tell it was forced. I simply nodded my head before closing the door behind me and catching up with Brendon.
He was already at his car, fighting with his keys to unlock the door. His hands were shaking and his face was flushed red. I took the keys from his hand and shook my head at him. “You’re not driving anywhere. If you want to leave, I’ll drive you wherever you want to go. But I refuse to let you drive while you’re in this state.”
Brendon stared at me, a blank expression on his face, before he slightly smiled at me. “Are you sure that’s not just your way of finding a way to kill me after the way I’ve treated you?”
I laughed, “Now that I think about it, that sounds like a great idea. But no, I promise I don’t have a gun or knife hidden anywhere. And I’m not too strong so you don’t have to worry about me beating you up. You’re lucky if I can figure out how to open my pepper spray.” I unlocked my car and we both got inside.
“Every other person I know would have just left me alone. I don’t understand you at all.” But I wasn’t every other person. I had a heart and a conscience—and a brain. With my luck, he’d have gotten in a wreck and killed somebody and it would have been my fault.
As I turned the key over, the engine revved up. I put the car in reverse and looked through my rearview mirror. Backing the car up, I turned my attention to Brendon, “Well I believe in second chances too.”
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