Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy
"Whim! Whim! Look over here!"
"No, over here!"
"Can you give us a phrase? A sound bite?"
The girl hurried through the storm of reporters, eager to get into her house as the bodyguards pushed the annoyances away. She took cover in the main hall of her mansion, listening to the tsunami raging outside. "When is this going to end?" she wondered. Everyone was talking about the young model, the youngest to work for Victoria's Secret. The youngest one to be a Victoria's Secret Angel. Sixteen years old and yet to have her first kiss! Of course, after her big break, every guy between twelve and twenty-one wanted her in his bed. This is what the producers wanted-her virgin image to play with every man's mind and buy her line for his girlfriend. The line was only intended for sizes AAA to C, child sizes. And that's what she was, a C cup. The panties were for the petite, sizes 5 and 6. The whole line called On a Whim was for the petite. There were robes, panties, bras, garters (a favorite of Whim herself), camisoles, and plenty else. Every Greyhound bus had her picture plastered on the side, every Victoria's Secret carried her line.
Whim sighed. With the way things were going, if she were to find a boyfriend, he would want her as a trophy girl, not for who she was. She headed upstairs to go online for awhile. Once on her bed with the laptop in her lap, the cream Victorian-style phone rang. She answered hesitantly.
"H-hello?"
"Whim, darling." It was her talent manager. Whim sighed again. Its not like she didn't like Kathryn-with-a-K, but it was just that she didn't like her.
"Yes, Kathryn?"
"Oh, honey, the hippest thing just happened, dear. I just got a call from James Duvall, and he wants you to do voice acting for the new anime he's directing." Whim flinched as Kathryn said hippest, but ignored the use of the word.
"Really? James Duvall? Who's he?"
"He's a young producer for BigMinds Inc. So, how about it babe? Maybe you'll find a boyfriend over the mic." She made a purring sound that would have been supposed to sound seductive, but was a turn off if you knew who it was coming from.
"Whatever you think is best, Kathryn. That's why you're my talent manager."
"Of course, darling, of course." She hung up and Whim had to wonder who James Duvall was. After looking him up on Google, she still knew nothing. She gave up with an exasperated sigh and flopped backwards onto the bed, thanking her lucky stars.
"I wonder how I got into this lifestyle. I am really lucky to be here. Now I'm out of that hell hole Wisconsin. The only thing that you'd want to live there for is to marry your cousin." Not a pleasant thought. But now she lived on a remote part of southern California where it was always warm and she got a lot of privacy, most of the time. The plot that she had chosen to build on had been an old cow farm in the plantation days. All that had remained was a barn that resembled a haunted house, and a crumbling estate. Whim leveled the land and built a Victorian-style mansion with turrets and a large iron gate and fence. The fence had nine-foot tall hedges woven into the bars for added privacy. She had maids and body guards, guard dogs and a security system. She was pampered, and not only sitting in the lap of luxury, she was the whole damn image of luxury.
Her pet fox, Cinnamon, leapt up from the white stone floor onto her legs and curled to take the shape of her crossed lap. The phone rang again.
"Hello?" Whim began stroking Cinnamon's soft ears.
"Hi, is this Whim?" The male caller had a strangely familiar voice, but whose was it?
"Yes?"
"Uh, this is Andy Hurley. From Fall Out Boy?" Of course! She absolutely loved Andy! "And I was wondering if you could come to our next concert, I would like to meet you. If you want I'll send some backstage passes over to you." Needless to say she was speechless.
"O-of course I'll come. I love Fall Out Boy! Especially the Dance Dance video," she gushed happily.
"Really? Oh my God, that's great! I've really wanted to meet you for a while and my talent coordinator got your number from yours, Kathryn. I can't wait, honestly. I've liked you from afar a long time." Something struck her as odd.
"Well, why are you so interested in me? I'm sixteen, aren't you twenty?"
"We can forget that. When regular people with that age gap date, he's considered a pedophiliac. When celebrities date, it's considered cute. And you are quite cute, to be sure."
Cinnamon nipped Whim's hand. She had been so preoccupied with Andy that she stopped rubbing the pet's ears. "Ow," she muttered.
"What's wrong?" Andy's voice was full of concern.
"My fox bit me. Nothing much."
"You have a fox? That's awesome!"
"Yeah, I'm working on getting a lynx and a wolf next."
"Wow. That's so cool!" A thought occurred to Whim. Why should she wait to meet the man who might make her Mrs. Andy Hurley?
"Why don't we skip the intros at the concert and get aquatinted now? I can send a car for you."
"You're inviting me over to your house now?"
"Sure. You up for it?"
"Of course!"
"Okay, where are you?" After she had gotten all of the information she went to her garage and grabbed her helmet that matched her bike and a spare one. Her black crotchrocket had silver dragons racing up the sides, as did her helmet. She slipped the spare into a concealed compartment and revved it up. The motion-sensor garage doors opened as she sped out and onto the nearly-always deserted street.
After making sure that the gorgeous mansion was the right address, she parked her bike at the wrought iron gates and rang the intercom.
"Hey, Whim, is that you?" Andy's voice melted her senses until she thought that she might faint. "I thought a car was coming to get me."
"I decided that we would have more fun this way." She could hear him chuckle, then the intercom went dead. The large French doors opened and Andy made his way down the short driveway (well, short for a celebrity) and up to the gates where the gates opened automatically. He was greeted by Whim herself holding the extra helmet out to him.
"Whoa, I sure picked for individuality. Nice bike!" She grinned.
"Nice jacket." She nodded to his worn leather jacket. "It'll go great with it." She mounted and he got on behind her and slipped his arms around her waist without hesitation. As they zipped through the back roads, Whim noticed how she liked how it felt to be this close to a guy, to be held by him. She was a sucker for sappy romance stories, and had an entire bookshelf dedicated to the cheesy paperbacks.
As they pulled up to the mansion, Whim could hear another impressed 'whoa' from Andy.
"You like it?" She smirked as she pulled off her helmet in the garage.
"Wow. And here I thought that I had a nice house." She led him into the hallway and was promptly attacked 'viciously' by a heard of pug puppies. "Aww. They're so cute." Whim was shocked in a good way. What man would say 'aww' and risk his masculinity? She liked it.
"Kawaii,(cute)" she said. He nodded.
"Japanese too? Kanpai! (cheers). I'm liking you more and more every minute. Is this your fox?" He picked up the pet who's small stature had blended pretty well with the pups.
"Yep. That's Cinnamon." He agreed with the name. "Hey, let's go up to my room. Yolanda?" She called for the cook in the kitchen next to where they were standing. "Could you send some tea and cookies up? Thank you." Yolanda went to work right away.
"Wow. I rarely see famous people treat their staff so nicely. I do, of course."
"Well, yeah. They're people too. I also have my own shopping guide. His name is ErÃk. God I feel spoiled. That's probably why I donate so much money to third world countries, to make up for what I have that they don't. To scrub my soul and conscience clean." They had reached her bedroom, and yet again came the unmistakable and foretell-able 'wow' from Andy.
The room was in the tower of the house, and quite large at that. Everything was a crisp white, including the floor. The only color came from the tranquil ocean blue accents, like seascapes on the walls and the blue suede chair. The duvet and canopy was white, the rugs were white, the laptop was white, the furniture was white, including the bookcase, which Andy wanted a closer look at. The subjects of the full shelves jumped from teen contemporary fiction to classics; from bull riding to horses, to cooking to herbs to gardening. There were manuals on crocheting to how to speak Japanese and French sets, to college texts of marketing management. He turned to Whim.
"Whim, will you marry me?" She giggled, unsure of how to respond.
"Nani?(what?)"
"Er, I'm just so overwhelmed that a girl as young as you has so many interests, intelligent ones. You've got a great future ahead of you, I hope that you see that and realize your potential." He walked over to her and gently ran his thumb over her trembling lips. "Doshdanou?(are you alright?)" He asked, concerned. She nodded.
"I'm glad that you see my potential, too." There was a knock on the door and Whim turned to accept the tray offered to her then shut the door. On the tray was a white ceramic teapot, and a tea tag of Revolution's Lavender Earl Gray hanging over the lip under the cover accompanied by two matching teacups on saucers next to a small plate of Dutch butter cookies. She set it on the glass coffee table and poured a cup for him then herself and took a seat on the white loveseat; he sat next to her. She sucked on a cookie for a bit and he let her swallow before slowly moving towards her and gently placing his lips on hers. She gasped, her first kiss?! She parted her lips slightly, but then wondered if she wanted to loose her first kiss so soon, and decided that she didn't, she barely knew him, and pulled away. Andy's eyes shot open and he immediately began stuttering his apologies. She just smiled and whispered to him her reasons. I'm just not ready. He relaxed as she traced his lips with her perfectly manicured finger and leaned into his chest. He laid down on the full length of the couch and pulled her up onto him, so she was laying on him. He smelled wonderfully and she nearly fell asleep like that, especially when he began rubbing her back; a guy's back massage was how Whim measured and rated them. The better the massage, the better their chances. She sighed and began mumbling in French, one of her relaxed reflexes.
"You speak French too? You're just too good to be true. I'm going to wake up now, in my bed, rubbing my cat's furry back." She gave a drowsy giggle.
"I bet you tell all the girls that." A faint ringing interrupted her and she realized that it was Andy's cell phone. He answered and said a few 'yes's and 'all right's then hung up and said that he had to go to rehearsal. With an afterthought he added an invitation to go with him and meet the others. She accepted and stood up to go over to her vanity table. Whim chose a small vile with Province Perfume Oil in it and dabbed some on her collar bone, behind her ears, and a little on her wrists. Andy sneaked up behind her and put his arms around her model-trim waist.
"Mmmm. That smells wonderful." He began nibbling on her neck. She gave a little moan and reminded him about rehearsal then took his hand and led him to her bike again. They mounted, and as they left, he shouted directions to her.
They arrived twenty minutes later in LA. He introduced her to everybody. None of them had girlfriends, just Andy. Patrick paid extra attention to her, and was even nicer than the other members of the band. After rehearsal, Andy reacquainted himself with Whim with a kiss on her cheek. Patrick picked up her hand and kissed it, saying, "I have never met such a beautiful girl." He was completely serious. Andy didn't mind, even when Pete slapped her butt on the way out. She slapped him back, but it was all in good fun. Patrick wrinkled his nose at the distaste of the others. If it was he with the drop dead gorgeous model girlfriend, he would have punched Pete and knocked him through a wall. It pissed him off how relaxed Andy was with other guys hitting on her. He doesn't deserve Whim.
Uh oh, anyone else sensing the envy-eyed monster?
Many rehearsals and concerts followed until the group invited Whim on tour with them as Andy's official girlfriend. Naturally, she accepted. She was hot news with the press and the rest of Victoria's Secret Angels.
"How is he in bed?" Giselle asked her huskily while they were preparing for a shoot. The hairdressers were all ears, hoping for a bit of gossip to sell to the tabloids.
"We haven't done anything. I'm only sixteen, and apparently the only sixteen year old in the state of California with morals." The hairdressers were let down-that wasn't anything new. She had said that the first time she was interviewed.
"All right guys, when we come back from the cross America tour, we'll shoot the Sixteen Candles video. Do you hear me? I'm serious!" Fall Out Boy's agent was screaming over the foursome's remarks of, 'Hey, dude! I'm on your team!' and 'You jerk! Don't shoot me! Shoot him!'. They were on the tour bus, playing video games on the bus's PS2 system. Whim sat next to Patrick on the end, Andy on the other end of the row, all were sitting on the window's bench seat. There was barely enough room, so Whim was quite snug against Patrick's shoulder, and he could smell her lavender and sandalwood Province perfume scent, likewise she could detect his eucalyptus and ylang-ylang after shave lotion that she made him for his 22nd birthday. It was called 'Pat's Scent' among the group. The agent shook his head and got off the bus. He ducked back in. "No pregnancies when you get back, okay?" he left for the last time. Pete jokingly stuck his tongue out at the now empty doorway. The bus driver revved the engine and they started off with a jerk throwing Whim into Patrick's lap. She stayed there a moment before regaining her balance, and in that time he put his arm around her ballerina-trim waist to keep her from falling onto the floor and helped her back into her seat.
"Thanks," she breathed, brushing the hair out of her eyes.
"You're welcome," he whispered. God, she had beautiful eyes; irises with green in the middle with gray fringing them. He tucked a lock of fallen dark auburn hair behind her ear and let his fingers rest on the silver treble clef earring, then trailed down her neck to her collar bone and reluctantly withdrew his hand. Her glossed lips were parted in a slight pout. She wasn't wearing any make up apart from the lip gloss, and she was still beautiful. No wonder she was a model at so young. Still, that reminded him of the age difference between her and any of them. Andy made an appearance to make sure that Whim was okay.
"Hey Whim," Andy cooed as he tilted her chin to kiss her on the cheek. They still hadn't had a real kiss yet, and he was getting anxious, but anything worth having takes time, he figured. Patrick averted his eyes. To him, this was the worst pain imaginable. She kissed him back, and threw Patrick a look that said, "Sorry, but I'm taken." She began to lazily trace the tattoo sleeve on Andy's arm, until he took hers and led her from the kitchen/living room at the front of the bus to the back where his bed was, across from Patrick's, with Joe's above Pat's. Then there was Pete above Andy, and Whim got the bed on the very back wall of the bus all to herself. There was a bathroom area between the kitchen/living space and the 'bedrooms'. Andy slid the door separating the middle from the back shut, and the guys exchanged raised-eyebrow looks.
"Andy, what are you doing?" Whim purred. Andy had taken his shirt off when they got onto his bed, her on top of him because of the cramped space.
He replied simply, "I'm hot." The statement was accompanied by a mischievous grin.
"I know you are." She began tracing the eagle tattoo on his chest. They laid like that for hours, until Joe called out to them that dinner was done. Whim slid out of the tiny compartment and walked through the doorway into the kitchen. "Hey, a stir-fry! I didn't know that you knew how to cook, Patrick!" Andy heard her exclaim and he didn't like how she was gushing over him, and heaved himself off of the bed and followed Whim's wake. She was feeding a mixed CD to the multi-disk player hooked up throughout the bus and Mozart began playing his 'Inie Cline Naught Music'. Cinnamon wound herself around her owner's ankles having just woken from her nap on Patrick's bed. Patrick leaned over the side of the round table and scratched her behind the ears. Cinnamon gracefully leapt up onto his lap.
They had a quiet conversation over dinner about the promotion of "From Under the Cork Tree" while Whim quietly hummed "Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy" as Andy tapped the beat out on the table. Pete cleared the table and Whim helped him with the dishes, Patrick drying. Once again he was overcome with a strong desire to touch her. Whim always said just to do it. She often walked up to people to ask where they purchased something or to compliment their hair. Still, he held back.
The next morning they stopped for a chance to walk around, and more importantly for Whim and Pete, shop. At The Bathing Ape, he picked out yet another hoodie-black with white stripes that made a tiger shape-and Whim got a sundress with a matching sun hat that Andy insisted she looked adorable in. The white linen clung to her curves and reflected the highlights in her hair and brought out the gray in her eyes. The hat had a wide brim, and was made of the same material, but could support itself. Then Pete found a pair of wedge sandals that he thought she would like, and she went ecstatic over the punk-ish black-and-pink zebra print. Pete bought them for her, just because "you're just tooo cute!"
They left The Bathing Ape and walked to a grocery store to pick up some 'tour essentials'. Whim grabbed a cart and put her and Pete's shopping bags into it, then went down the organic aisle. Andy put six cartons of Silk vanilla-flavored soy milk into the cart, then a jar of Vegenaise was dropped in. Patrick and Joe ran up to them, arms full of Smucker's strawberry Uncrustables, Wonder bread, Gushers, Doritos, and unhealthy cereal, including Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs, Cocoa Krispies, and Count Chocula. Pete came back with a 24 pack of Dasani and three twelve-packs of Mountain Dew. Whim grabbed a vegetable tray with ranch dip and some other healthy deli options. Then they needed a few gallons of 2% milk, and some produce.
"Okay, do we have everything?" Whim asked the group sarcastically. They nodded in a very solemn fashion, perhaps joking, but more likely not. As they were waiting in line, she picked up the latest issue of Blender magazine. The cover featured an interview on herself a while back, and she wanted to read it. She had recently made a remix of "XO" with Patrick. He had written it as a slow mournful tune with just her on harp and him on piano. It was very much "Unfaithful" by Rhianna. Before that she sang and took over on guitar, or violin, or anything else. She specialized in string instruments. She flipped through a few pages to the story.
"The Inside Scoop on Whim"
Everyone knows that this is a music magazine, and strictly so, but this model has more to show than just her pretty face. Blender caught the spitfire diva backstage of a Fall Out Boy show, her boyfriend being none other than Andy Hurley, drummer. She gave us an inside look at how the group acts when they aren't on camera, and she answered faithfully, "They're all so fun. Patrick and Pete are hilarious, and Joe's blunt comments just add to the comedy. Andy's a bit more reserved, but he's definitely got his moments too."
"No, over here!"
"Can you give us a phrase? A sound bite?"
The girl hurried through the storm of reporters, eager to get into her house as the bodyguards pushed the annoyances away. She took cover in the main hall of her mansion, listening to the tsunami raging outside. "When is this going to end?" she wondered. Everyone was talking about the young model, the youngest to work for Victoria's Secret. The youngest one to be a Victoria's Secret Angel. Sixteen years old and yet to have her first kiss! Of course, after her big break, every guy between twelve and twenty-one wanted her in his bed. This is what the producers wanted-her virgin image to play with every man's mind and buy her line for his girlfriend. The line was only intended for sizes AAA to C, child sizes. And that's what she was, a C cup. The panties were for the petite, sizes 5 and 6. The whole line called On a Whim was for the petite. There were robes, panties, bras, garters (a favorite of Whim herself), camisoles, and plenty else. Every Greyhound bus had her picture plastered on the side, every Victoria's Secret carried her line.
Whim sighed. With the way things were going, if she were to find a boyfriend, he would want her as a trophy girl, not for who she was. She headed upstairs to go online for awhile. Once on her bed with the laptop in her lap, the cream Victorian-style phone rang. She answered hesitantly.
"H-hello?"
"Whim, darling." It was her talent manager. Whim sighed again. Its not like she didn't like Kathryn-with-a-K, but it was just that she didn't like her.
"Yes, Kathryn?"
"Oh, honey, the hippest thing just happened, dear. I just got a call from James Duvall, and he wants you to do voice acting for the new anime he's directing." Whim flinched as Kathryn said hippest, but ignored the use of the word.
"Really? James Duvall? Who's he?"
"He's a young producer for BigMinds Inc. So, how about it babe? Maybe you'll find a boyfriend over the mic." She made a purring sound that would have been supposed to sound seductive, but was a turn off if you knew who it was coming from.
"Whatever you think is best, Kathryn. That's why you're my talent manager."
"Of course, darling, of course." She hung up and Whim had to wonder who James Duvall was. After looking him up on Google, she still knew nothing. She gave up with an exasperated sigh and flopped backwards onto the bed, thanking her lucky stars.
"I wonder how I got into this lifestyle. I am really lucky to be here. Now I'm out of that hell hole Wisconsin. The only thing that you'd want to live there for is to marry your cousin." Not a pleasant thought. But now she lived on a remote part of southern California where it was always warm and she got a lot of privacy, most of the time. The plot that she had chosen to build on had been an old cow farm in the plantation days. All that had remained was a barn that resembled a haunted house, and a crumbling estate. Whim leveled the land and built a Victorian-style mansion with turrets and a large iron gate and fence. The fence had nine-foot tall hedges woven into the bars for added privacy. She had maids and body guards, guard dogs and a security system. She was pampered, and not only sitting in the lap of luxury, she was the whole damn image of luxury.
Her pet fox, Cinnamon, leapt up from the white stone floor onto her legs and curled to take the shape of her crossed lap. The phone rang again.
"Hello?" Whim began stroking Cinnamon's soft ears.
"Hi, is this Whim?" The male caller had a strangely familiar voice, but whose was it?
"Yes?"
"Uh, this is Andy Hurley. From Fall Out Boy?" Of course! She absolutely loved Andy! "And I was wondering if you could come to our next concert, I would like to meet you. If you want I'll send some backstage passes over to you." Needless to say she was speechless.
"O-of course I'll come. I love Fall Out Boy! Especially the Dance Dance video," she gushed happily.
"Really? Oh my God, that's great! I've really wanted to meet you for a while and my talent coordinator got your number from yours, Kathryn. I can't wait, honestly. I've liked you from afar a long time." Something struck her as odd.
"Well, why are you so interested in me? I'm sixteen, aren't you twenty?"
"We can forget that. When regular people with that age gap date, he's considered a pedophiliac. When celebrities date, it's considered cute. And you are quite cute, to be sure."
Cinnamon nipped Whim's hand. She had been so preoccupied with Andy that she stopped rubbing the pet's ears. "Ow," she muttered.
"What's wrong?" Andy's voice was full of concern.
"My fox bit me. Nothing much."
"You have a fox? That's awesome!"
"Yeah, I'm working on getting a lynx and a wolf next."
"Wow. That's so cool!" A thought occurred to Whim. Why should she wait to meet the man who might make her Mrs. Andy Hurley?
"Why don't we skip the intros at the concert and get aquatinted now? I can send a car for you."
"You're inviting me over to your house now?"
"Sure. You up for it?"
"Of course!"
"Okay, where are you?" After she had gotten all of the information she went to her garage and grabbed her helmet that matched her bike and a spare one. Her black crotchrocket had silver dragons racing up the sides, as did her helmet. She slipped the spare into a concealed compartment and revved it up. The motion-sensor garage doors opened as she sped out and onto the nearly-always deserted street.
After making sure that the gorgeous mansion was the right address, she parked her bike at the wrought iron gates and rang the intercom.
"Hey, Whim, is that you?" Andy's voice melted her senses until she thought that she might faint. "I thought a car was coming to get me."
"I decided that we would have more fun this way." She could hear him chuckle, then the intercom went dead. The large French doors opened and Andy made his way down the short driveway (well, short for a celebrity) and up to the gates where the gates opened automatically. He was greeted by Whim herself holding the extra helmet out to him.
"Whoa, I sure picked for individuality. Nice bike!" She grinned.
"Nice jacket." She nodded to his worn leather jacket. "It'll go great with it." She mounted and he got on behind her and slipped his arms around her waist without hesitation. As they zipped through the back roads, Whim noticed how she liked how it felt to be this close to a guy, to be held by him. She was a sucker for sappy romance stories, and had an entire bookshelf dedicated to the cheesy paperbacks.
As they pulled up to the mansion, Whim could hear another impressed 'whoa' from Andy.
"You like it?" She smirked as she pulled off her helmet in the garage.
"Wow. And here I thought that I had a nice house." She led him into the hallway and was promptly attacked 'viciously' by a heard of pug puppies. "Aww. They're so cute." Whim was shocked in a good way. What man would say 'aww' and risk his masculinity? She liked it.
"Kawaii,(cute)" she said. He nodded.
"Japanese too? Kanpai! (cheers). I'm liking you more and more every minute. Is this your fox?" He picked up the pet who's small stature had blended pretty well with the pups.
"Yep. That's Cinnamon." He agreed with the name. "Hey, let's go up to my room. Yolanda?" She called for the cook in the kitchen next to where they were standing. "Could you send some tea and cookies up? Thank you." Yolanda went to work right away.
"Wow. I rarely see famous people treat their staff so nicely. I do, of course."
"Well, yeah. They're people too. I also have my own shopping guide. His name is ErÃk. God I feel spoiled. That's probably why I donate so much money to third world countries, to make up for what I have that they don't. To scrub my soul and conscience clean." They had reached her bedroom, and yet again came the unmistakable and foretell-able 'wow' from Andy.
The room was in the tower of the house, and quite large at that. Everything was a crisp white, including the floor. The only color came from the tranquil ocean blue accents, like seascapes on the walls and the blue suede chair. The duvet and canopy was white, the rugs were white, the laptop was white, the furniture was white, including the bookcase, which Andy wanted a closer look at. The subjects of the full shelves jumped from teen contemporary fiction to classics; from bull riding to horses, to cooking to herbs to gardening. There were manuals on crocheting to how to speak Japanese and French sets, to college texts of marketing management. He turned to Whim.
"Whim, will you marry me?" She giggled, unsure of how to respond.
"Nani?(what?)"
"Er, I'm just so overwhelmed that a girl as young as you has so many interests, intelligent ones. You've got a great future ahead of you, I hope that you see that and realize your potential." He walked over to her and gently ran his thumb over her trembling lips. "Doshdanou?(are you alright?)" He asked, concerned. She nodded.
"I'm glad that you see my potential, too." There was a knock on the door and Whim turned to accept the tray offered to her then shut the door. On the tray was a white ceramic teapot, and a tea tag of Revolution's Lavender Earl Gray hanging over the lip under the cover accompanied by two matching teacups on saucers next to a small plate of Dutch butter cookies. She set it on the glass coffee table and poured a cup for him then herself and took a seat on the white loveseat; he sat next to her. She sucked on a cookie for a bit and he let her swallow before slowly moving towards her and gently placing his lips on hers. She gasped, her first kiss?! She parted her lips slightly, but then wondered if she wanted to loose her first kiss so soon, and decided that she didn't, she barely knew him, and pulled away. Andy's eyes shot open and he immediately began stuttering his apologies. She just smiled and whispered to him her reasons. I'm just not ready. He relaxed as she traced his lips with her perfectly manicured finger and leaned into his chest. He laid down on the full length of the couch and pulled her up onto him, so she was laying on him. He smelled wonderfully and she nearly fell asleep like that, especially when he began rubbing her back; a guy's back massage was how Whim measured and rated them. The better the massage, the better their chances. She sighed and began mumbling in French, one of her relaxed reflexes.
"You speak French too? You're just too good to be true. I'm going to wake up now, in my bed, rubbing my cat's furry back." She gave a drowsy giggle.
"I bet you tell all the girls that." A faint ringing interrupted her and she realized that it was Andy's cell phone. He answered and said a few 'yes's and 'all right's then hung up and said that he had to go to rehearsal. With an afterthought he added an invitation to go with him and meet the others. She accepted and stood up to go over to her vanity table. Whim chose a small vile with Province Perfume Oil in it and dabbed some on her collar bone, behind her ears, and a little on her wrists. Andy sneaked up behind her and put his arms around her model-trim waist.
"Mmmm. That smells wonderful." He began nibbling on her neck. She gave a little moan and reminded him about rehearsal then took his hand and led him to her bike again. They mounted, and as they left, he shouted directions to her.
They arrived twenty minutes later in LA. He introduced her to everybody. None of them had girlfriends, just Andy. Patrick paid extra attention to her, and was even nicer than the other members of the band. After rehearsal, Andy reacquainted himself with Whim with a kiss on her cheek. Patrick picked up her hand and kissed it, saying, "I have never met such a beautiful girl." He was completely serious. Andy didn't mind, even when Pete slapped her butt on the way out. She slapped him back, but it was all in good fun. Patrick wrinkled his nose at the distaste of the others. If it was he with the drop dead gorgeous model girlfriend, he would have punched Pete and knocked him through a wall. It pissed him off how relaxed Andy was with other guys hitting on her. He doesn't deserve Whim.
Uh oh, anyone else sensing the envy-eyed monster?
Many rehearsals and concerts followed until the group invited Whim on tour with them as Andy's official girlfriend. Naturally, she accepted. She was hot news with the press and the rest of Victoria's Secret Angels.
"How is he in bed?" Giselle asked her huskily while they were preparing for a shoot. The hairdressers were all ears, hoping for a bit of gossip to sell to the tabloids.
"We haven't done anything. I'm only sixteen, and apparently the only sixteen year old in the state of California with morals." The hairdressers were let down-that wasn't anything new. She had said that the first time she was interviewed.
"All right guys, when we come back from the cross America tour, we'll shoot the Sixteen Candles video. Do you hear me? I'm serious!" Fall Out Boy's agent was screaming over the foursome's remarks of, 'Hey, dude! I'm on your team!' and 'You jerk! Don't shoot me! Shoot him!'. They were on the tour bus, playing video games on the bus's PS2 system. Whim sat next to Patrick on the end, Andy on the other end of the row, all were sitting on the window's bench seat. There was barely enough room, so Whim was quite snug against Patrick's shoulder, and he could smell her lavender and sandalwood Province perfume scent, likewise she could detect his eucalyptus and ylang-ylang after shave lotion that she made him for his 22nd birthday. It was called 'Pat's Scent' among the group. The agent shook his head and got off the bus. He ducked back in. "No pregnancies when you get back, okay?" he left for the last time. Pete jokingly stuck his tongue out at the now empty doorway. The bus driver revved the engine and they started off with a jerk throwing Whim into Patrick's lap. She stayed there a moment before regaining her balance, and in that time he put his arm around her ballerina-trim waist to keep her from falling onto the floor and helped her back into her seat.
"Thanks," she breathed, brushing the hair out of her eyes.
"You're welcome," he whispered. God, she had beautiful eyes; irises with green in the middle with gray fringing them. He tucked a lock of fallen dark auburn hair behind her ear and let his fingers rest on the silver treble clef earring, then trailed down her neck to her collar bone and reluctantly withdrew his hand. Her glossed lips were parted in a slight pout. She wasn't wearing any make up apart from the lip gloss, and she was still beautiful. No wonder she was a model at so young. Still, that reminded him of the age difference between her and any of them. Andy made an appearance to make sure that Whim was okay.
"Hey Whim," Andy cooed as he tilted her chin to kiss her on the cheek. They still hadn't had a real kiss yet, and he was getting anxious, but anything worth having takes time, he figured. Patrick averted his eyes. To him, this was the worst pain imaginable. She kissed him back, and threw Patrick a look that said, "Sorry, but I'm taken." She began to lazily trace the tattoo sleeve on Andy's arm, until he took hers and led her from the kitchen/living room at the front of the bus to the back where his bed was, across from Patrick's, with Joe's above Pat's. Then there was Pete above Andy, and Whim got the bed on the very back wall of the bus all to herself. There was a bathroom area between the kitchen/living space and the 'bedrooms'. Andy slid the door separating the middle from the back shut, and the guys exchanged raised-eyebrow looks.
"Andy, what are you doing?" Whim purred. Andy had taken his shirt off when they got onto his bed, her on top of him because of the cramped space.
He replied simply, "I'm hot." The statement was accompanied by a mischievous grin.
"I know you are." She began tracing the eagle tattoo on his chest. They laid like that for hours, until Joe called out to them that dinner was done. Whim slid out of the tiny compartment and walked through the doorway into the kitchen. "Hey, a stir-fry! I didn't know that you knew how to cook, Patrick!" Andy heard her exclaim and he didn't like how she was gushing over him, and heaved himself off of the bed and followed Whim's wake. She was feeding a mixed CD to the multi-disk player hooked up throughout the bus and Mozart began playing his 'Inie Cline Naught Music'. Cinnamon wound herself around her owner's ankles having just woken from her nap on Patrick's bed. Patrick leaned over the side of the round table and scratched her behind the ears. Cinnamon gracefully leapt up onto his lap.
They had a quiet conversation over dinner about the promotion of "From Under the Cork Tree" while Whim quietly hummed "Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy" as Andy tapped the beat out on the table. Pete cleared the table and Whim helped him with the dishes, Patrick drying. Once again he was overcome with a strong desire to touch her. Whim always said just to do it. She often walked up to people to ask where they purchased something or to compliment their hair. Still, he held back.
The next morning they stopped for a chance to walk around, and more importantly for Whim and Pete, shop. At The Bathing Ape, he picked out yet another hoodie-black with white stripes that made a tiger shape-and Whim got a sundress with a matching sun hat that Andy insisted she looked adorable in. The white linen clung to her curves and reflected the highlights in her hair and brought out the gray in her eyes. The hat had a wide brim, and was made of the same material, but could support itself. Then Pete found a pair of wedge sandals that he thought she would like, and she went ecstatic over the punk-ish black-and-pink zebra print. Pete bought them for her, just because "you're just tooo cute!"
They left The Bathing Ape and walked to a grocery store to pick up some 'tour essentials'. Whim grabbed a cart and put her and Pete's shopping bags into it, then went down the organic aisle. Andy put six cartons of Silk vanilla-flavored soy milk into the cart, then a jar of Vegenaise was dropped in. Patrick and Joe ran up to them, arms full of Smucker's strawberry Uncrustables, Wonder bread, Gushers, Doritos, and unhealthy cereal, including Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs, Cocoa Krispies, and Count Chocula. Pete came back with a 24 pack of Dasani and three twelve-packs of Mountain Dew. Whim grabbed a vegetable tray with ranch dip and some other healthy deli options. Then they needed a few gallons of 2% milk, and some produce.
"Okay, do we have everything?" Whim asked the group sarcastically. They nodded in a very solemn fashion, perhaps joking, but more likely not. As they were waiting in line, she picked up the latest issue of Blender magazine. The cover featured an interview on herself a while back, and she wanted to read it. She had recently made a remix of "XO" with Patrick. He had written it as a slow mournful tune with just her on harp and him on piano. It was very much "Unfaithful" by Rhianna. Before that she sang and took over on guitar, or violin, or anything else. She specialized in string instruments. She flipped through a few pages to the story.
"The Inside Scoop on Whim"
Everyone knows that this is a music magazine, and strictly so, but this model has more to show than just her pretty face. Blender caught the spitfire diva backstage of a Fall Out Boy show, her boyfriend being none other than Andy Hurley, drummer. She gave us an inside look at how the group acts when they aren't on camera, and she answered faithfully, "They're all so fun. Patrick and Pete are hilarious, and Joe's blunt comments just add to the comedy. Andy's a bit more reserved, but he's definitely got his moments too."
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