Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Let's Spend Tonight on Top of the World
Sweet Tangerine, Will you Please Come Back to Me?
5 reviews'cause I don't know if these feelings are gonna leave.
0Unrated
"Generation Mod?"
"Yes, that's me."
"Do you have rooms reserved?"
"Well, they're certainly not reserved. You kind of have to show up with someone, if you know what I mean."
"Oh. So we can have about fifty people at a time show up? Would that be okay?"
"Certainly. Buh-bye!" I hung up the phone and leaned against the bar counter in Generation Mod. It was around 7:00, which meant William would soon be here and I wouldn't be left alone at my new job.
Yes, new job. After I got his business card, Mr. Beckett had told me about Generation Mod.
"What would I do there?" I had asked nervously. I knew Generation Mod was a bar and a dance club, but I didn't know what kind.
"I'd have you on bar beauty duty at first," he said with a laugh as he saw my facial expression. "You are old enough to drink?"
"No. I'm seventeen."
"Well, that's okay. I'll be around so just. Don't drink too much, okay?" he laughed again. He seemed to laugh alot for some reason. But I liked it when he laughed. His smile was absolutely meltworthy.
So I started the job two days ago. I answered random phone calls, except not around 9:00, because that's when people started showing up. And that was when Generation Mod turned on the DJ system with the hottest DJ around (William had said, anyway), bass pumping, and sent out the mod-costumed dancers who danced around random men. Yes. I had been offered one of these "sacred" spots, but requested to stay at the bar.
Unfortunately, I still had to wear the outfit. A short white miniskirt that hardly covered my butt. A black tank top cut dangerously low. And the eyeliner was fabulous, I must admit. Their makeup artist would be working for Vogue any time now. My hair was diffused; the hair stylist would be with the makeup artist, of course.
So I stood behind the counter with huge silver hoops dangling from my ears when William came back in, followed by four guys. I didn't know them; who were they? Were they mental? That was the only reason I could think of as to why they would be here at seven fourteen.
"Hi Will," I said with a smile. "Who are these guys?" I shot them another smile. The one nearest to Will, with black hair and gorgeous eyes, wore a red hoodie with--was that a bat?--smiled back. My heart flopped a little.
"Michelle," Will said, "this is Pete, Patrick, Andy, and Joe. They're in a band called Fall Out Boy. They play in Chicago--"
"--but we came to Orlando to meet this girl Will has been raving about," a guy with bushy hair replied. I grinned.
"Yeah, okay," I said, laughing. I waved at them and then turned to Will. "Can I do something?"
"Get these boys some /drinks/!" Will said, and high-fived the bushy haired one, which I learned later was Joe. The other two (Patrick and Andy; I am horrible with names) wandered off into a corner, sitting down at a table for two. Occasionally the one with the hat busted out laughing and smiled gorgeously.
The other one (it must have been Pete) just stood next to Will and Joe. He didn't take a beer or anything else; he just stood there and occasionlly looked at me. For long amounts of time. It started to creep me out.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the back door, and Will went to go get it, Joe following him with his drink. Pete glanced at me again and smiled. "So your name's Michelle?" he asked.
"Yup. Has been for seventeen years," I replied, rubbing a spot on the counter where I'd missed earlier.
He laughed. "Nice. Have you always lived in Orlando?"
I looked at him. "Jacksonville was where I was born. I moved to Orlando not very long ago." What was he, a stalker?
"Cool," he said with a small nod and smiled at me again. I giggled inside. He was so pretty.
Joe and Will returned with the bouncer, who took his position by the front doors, and as I heard a few voices as he walked out, I knew.
Let the night begin.
"Yes, that's me."
"Do you have rooms reserved?"
"Well, they're certainly not reserved. You kind of have to show up with someone, if you know what I mean."
"Oh. So we can have about fifty people at a time show up? Would that be okay?"
"Certainly. Buh-bye!" I hung up the phone and leaned against the bar counter in Generation Mod. It was around 7:00, which meant William would soon be here and I wouldn't be left alone at my new job.
Yes, new job. After I got his business card, Mr. Beckett had told me about Generation Mod.
"What would I do there?" I had asked nervously. I knew Generation Mod was a bar and a dance club, but I didn't know what kind.
"I'd have you on bar beauty duty at first," he said with a laugh as he saw my facial expression. "You are old enough to drink?"
"No. I'm seventeen."
"Well, that's okay. I'll be around so just. Don't drink too much, okay?" he laughed again. He seemed to laugh alot for some reason. But I liked it when he laughed. His smile was absolutely meltworthy.
So I started the job two days ago. I answered random phone calls, except not around 9:00, because that's when people started showing up. And that was when Generation Mod turned on the DJ system with the hottest DJ around (William had said, anyway), bass pumping, and sent out the mod-costumed dancers who danced around random men. Yes. I had been offered one of these "sacred" spots, but requested to stay at the bar.
Unfortunately, I still had to wear the outfit. A short white miniskirt that hardly covered my butt. A black tank top cut dangerously low. And the eyeliner was fabulous, I must admit. Their makeup artist would be working for Vogue any time now. My hair was diffused; the hair stylist would be with the makeup artist, of course.
So I stood behind the counter with huge silver hoops dangling from my ears when William came back in, followed by four guys. I didn't know them; who were they? Were they mental? That was the only reason I could think of as to why they would be here at seven fourteen.
"Hi Will," I said with a smile. "Who are these guys?" I shot them another smile. The one nearest to Will, with black hair and gorgeous eyes, wore a red hoodie with--was that a bat?--smiled back. My heart flopped a little.
"Michelle," Will said, "this is Pete, Patrick, Andy, and Joe. They're in a band called Fall Out Boy. They play in Chicago--"
"--but we came to Orlando to meet this girl Will has been raving about," a guy with bushy hair replied. I grinned.
"Yeah, okay," I said, laughing. I waved at them and then turned to Will. "Can I do something?"
"Get these boys some /drinks/!" Will said, and high-fived the bushy haired one, which I learned later was Joe. The other two (Patrick and Andy; I am horrible with names) wandered off into a corner, sitting down at a table for two. Occasionally the one with the hat busted out laughing and smiled gorgeously.
The other one (it must have been Pete) just stood next to Will and Joe. He didn't take a beer or anything else; he just stood there and occasionlly looked at me. For long amounts of time. It started to creep me out.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the back door, and Will went to go get it, Joe following him with his drink. Pete glanced at me again and smiled. "So your name's Michelle?" he asked.
"Yup. Has been for seventeen years," I replied, rubbing a spot on the counter where I'd missed earlier.
He laughed. "Nice. Have you always lived in Orlando?"
I looked at him. "Jacksonville was where I was born. I moved to Orlando not very long ago." What was he, a stalker?
"Cool," he said with a small nod and smiled at me again. I giggled inside. He was so pretty.
Joe and Will returned with the bouncer, who took his position by the front doors, and as I heard a few voices as he walked out, I knew.
Let the night begin.
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