Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Let's Play Find the Body!
chapter 2: you smell excited
2 reviewsbeing stuck 11 stories up from the strip isn't a good thing, especially for a girl with a fear of eating anything that was alive...
0Unrated
A/N: Okay... here you go. This would've SO been up earlier, but I went to Pasadena to watch the USC vs UCLA game - boy was I disappointed in the loss by my Trojans. But never fear, I am proud of them, regardless. Atleast we can say we were ranked AND have some champsionships under our belt. So take that UCLA! Bwahah. No I am really kidding, good luck UCLA fans at the Emerald Bowl.. or whatever, if there are UCLA fans. Okay I'm done ranting about the dumb loss by USC... but anyway, yes there are a few spelling errors.. but it's 2AM, therefore I have a decent excuse. So enjoy!
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"You're a bitch!" Ryan managed to whip out the "magic" finger against Brendon, staring at him across the table like he was some insane creature from the Earth's core (no cheesy 50s flick pun intended). I sat by and watched them bicker about who should sit in the crease of the diner seat.
They were fighting like fucking five year olds over who should be in the middle of a crease on a diner seat. We decided that we would be "tourists" for a day and act like morons, so we stopped by the Eiffel Tower Restaurant. Now let me tell you, as a native to Las Vegas, things really arent what they seem. The glamour exists, yes - but I doubt we have such great forensic teams that investigate a case within a span of an hour. Come on now, couldn't you go bother to trample LA and film in their town? "Hey there's a bunch of faggots who commit petty crimes in Vegas AND it's pretty - let's film there!" I'm not trying to offend anyone, either. It's just that.. Vegas isn't a stereotype of being 'Sin City,' if you will. I have roamed Craig Rd in North Las Vegas frequently and even found myself lost in Victory Village in Henderson (and let me tell you how bored the boys and I tend to get when they get back home, but usually we are so CRAAZY psyched about their appearance we lock ourselves in each other's homes and find ourselves passed out ontop of each other. Well, sometimes.). Back to the point, like I said.. everyone thinks these boys are easy to cope with and they really aren't. I zoned out for atleast five minutes and now Brendon was having an all-out war with Spencer and Ryan at the same time. They had moved on from the fact that Brendon stole the "crease" to who stole my napkin. This wasn't the worst of it all, though. I've seen them argue over who got to exit the bus first when they were performing that night. It's true, I've seen it before and that was the night where Jon ended up getting a black eye cause some prissy little bitch (who shall remain nameless, for obvious reasons on how this would damage his cover up of how truly flamboyant he is) decided to throw a balled up extension cord. They expected me to be the peace keeper, too. I think this time I would just sit back and enjoy how petty they looked right about now, especially since we were 11 stories up about the Strip anyway.
Francis, our waiter, knew I was in absolute hell. I was dealing with a bunch of seven year olds (yes, they grew two years in fighting within five minutes) who could not contain their excitement. This was the first night they were back for atleast two weeks and it would be another month and a half until they atleast got a week off for Thanksgiving to spend it home with their families (or in Ryan and Spencer's case, with me and my tiny ass apartment where we'd attempt to try and prepare a semi-veggie meal since I love turkeys waay too much to roast them). Fortunately for me, we were going to bask in a buffet of salads and desserts that I can picture Ryan whining a week from Thanksgiving his size 0 pants don't fit anymore. You can only imagine it, one of your best friends having a smaller waist than you and acting like a melodramatic whore that he ate too much on the one day Americans are actually allowed to have a reason to be obese. The menu just didn't settle to well with my stomach. Asparagus Soup with aged Parmesan Flan? Was that even legal to serve, anyway? I mean I understood they were French but some of these "appealing" courses just made my stomach toss itself back and forth. For a moment I absorbed the disgust I felt from the thought of eating baked Atlanic Salmon and immediately shut the menu. If they guys really wanted to eat here, I would just drink glasses of water and fill myself up to the bone. To keep the stomach bile down, I clamped my mouth shut and gave a forced smile through gritted teeth of how sick seafood really made me. I don't understand how in the hell anyone could eat this junk, anyway. Spencer seemed to have taken a follow role of what I had done - sit there with a shut menu and remaining silent until the rest decided what poor sea creature it decided to kill. If I was a lobster and some fishing bastard wanted to cook me for 50$ a pop, I'd clip his fucking finger off and swim away with that bitchin' red tail of mine! I forgot what the proper name was for the lobster's tail.. somehow I ceased to gather knowledge from my biology days in highschool.
"Guys, this shit is rank. I am not eating lobster or... Le Pavay de Saymon.. Sayvage.. shit, I'm not eating Atlanic Salmon!" I managed to reply, setting my opinion down on the table and glancing around the table to see the expression on their faces. "Just the thought of seeing the lobsters getting boiled makes my stomache do a complete 360 inside."
"I'm with Brie on this one, seafood is not the way to go our first night home." Spencer seemed to be saving my ass as Jon's jaw dropped and a few spectators had the indecency to be assholes and listen to what we were saying. "I'm definitely not hauling my ass or anyone else's to sleep 6 hours, throwing everything up. Seafood is a no deal."
"Shit then let's go get some fastfood!" Ryan squealed with excitement as we pulled ourselves from the dining table and made an exit as fast as we could. "This place blows, I know I'm never bringing my mom here for her birthday."
"Typical Ry, always gotta be cliche and bring his mother somewhere he's already experienced." Spencer snickered, and I just took note on the sneer Ryan happened to throw his way. They were always so feisty, but go figure: they'd been fighting ever since the nap in class days.
"You guys are such melodramatic drama queens." Jon just had to be the one who always used fancy schmancy words to make us feel like little kids. I didn't get why he wanted to prove to us he didn't have better things to do like get laid, but instead read a fucking dictionary all day. Come to think of it.. I think Jon and I get along better because he's the one who seems intelligent, while the rest were prissy little girls.
No wonder Ryan got mad jealous when Jon and I were laughing over some article in Vogue we didn't understand. Well, who understood Vogue anyway? The only reason Jon and I run to the store to buy the magazine is to look at the pretty as hell models who are probably half of my weight (Well that'd mean they'd be atleast 62 pounds since I am 114 pounds, straight on the dot. Yes, I'm a bit of a weight freak.. but I'm eighteen, I'm entitled to that right thank you very much). That and we liked to clip the skinniest model, and not to mention somewhat prettiest, to the refridgerator in my apartment so we could count how many days it'd last up there. The longest record a magazine cutout had lasted was three days that was in the April issue that was held up by the 'H' magnet. I didn't understand how Ryan could be jealous over Jon and I's new friendship, especially after having met him just a few months ago when the boys came home from their first tour with having Jon play bass, even after all the years I had to endure with his fetish for collecting stamps and accusing me when one of his girlfriend's found it, or how we would sometimes scare the living wits out of Spencer on Halloween when we wandered around the abandoned Westerly home in North Las Vegas. That place still gave me the creeps and the trio hadn't been out there for years. If I had a proper attention span, I could put an estimate on how many years it really has been since we ran out screaming for our lives from some spook in the mansion, but I'm just going to assume it was my Sophomore year. Go figure, it was about the time I was saying goodbye to Ryan in highschool and Spencer and I were left to kick ourselves and loathe the fact that we still had a year and two more years to go. When Spencer left, I had one year left to go and I just recently graduated so I'm pretty happy that those days are over, especially since I hardly got to see my boys (even though they promised me they'd visit me after school every day of my Senior year.. I think I saw them about three months worth of days out of ten). Maybe that's what happened when you got rockstars for best friends, huh?
All while I had zoned out, Spencer and Ryan were talking about some new video game to pick up at EB Games in the Fashion Show Mall. Brendon was too busy being fascinated at how the elevator was functioning, and I thought I was the creep but Jon was just standing there - like a deadbeat. He looked hollow for some reason, and I almost wanted to throw a quarter at him to see if he'd flinch and immediately start swinging his arms around frantically. I decided it against it because it might cause WWC - that is World War 100 in case you weren't so avid in about roman numerals quite like I was - since all the guys enjoyed was to find anything necessary to argue about and then endure the worst possible fights that caused them to chuck any inanimate object I owned. When we got off the bottom of the elevator, I was relieved in a way since the entire way down I was avoiding to look below since it was the worst possible thing after Daddy-Long-Legs. Yeah so what? I was a wimp and spiders were probably the most typical and creepiest thing that was created to feast on this earth. I've had a phobia of spiders ever since Ryan pushed me into a ditch when we were eight and a Daddy-Long-Legs creeped up close to me and it freaked me the hell out. Now don't get me wrong, I love insects and any kind of creature God created, but arachnids and I never got along. I prefered to keep it that way, too. I didn't want to be the freak of a kid in elementary who had a habit of making spider friends before actual human beings. That'd make me even weirder than the kid who ate glue and liked to talk about his friend "Frank." The streets of Vegas were crowded.. I mean they were packed. But when weren't they? It seemed almost impossible to manuever, especially after there was a huge clump of Japanese tourists standing right in front of the exit to the elevator and just trying to say "Excuse me" loud enough wasn't cutting it. It must've taken atleast ten minutes to make it out of there because I could see Spencer and Brendon looking frantic, almost like their cat died when we found each other outside Paris. Somehow, the Bellagio never got old to look at. It was almost the perfect setting of where I wanted to live for the rest of my life just cause it's where my mom worked while I was growing up. Roaming the casino with my mom holding my hand and looking around inside just fascinated me. Someday, I want to get married in the Bellagio. Fat chance, though. I'm too selfless - like Jon says - to ever actually find a guy that won't take advantage of my giving nature. To hell he will, I'd gladly kick his nuts and throw him straight out into the damn cold.
"So where are we going anyway?" I asked, because I certainly was not up for eating fastfood, especially if it was McDonalds or something that served nothing but poultry and beef. I guess the guys somehow forgot in the last fifteen minutes I was a vegetarian.
"Let's get some Chinese food, instead." Brendon always had the better ideas, he knew that Spencer and I couldn't resist a heaping bowl of chow mein.
"Oh shit, mixed veggies!" Spencer shouted.. then I realized he immediately pulled his arms back down and narrowed his eyes toward Brendon. "You do realize that if we walk, it'll take us an hour because we're fat asses and don't walk fast enough?"
"That's why you take a /bus/, Spence." Ryan sounded almost half witty for a second there, shooting a grin towards the boy who growled towards him softly. I almost wished Ryan hadn't said that.. just so I could've sounded like the smart ass. Damn you Ry and thinking exactly like me.
"Well I guess we gotta wait cause shit, these buses are packed.. especially at, oh, five o' clock at night?" I was right because when I took a look at the public bus, I doubt it was going to be easy to cram us into atleast the next bus or even the one after that. No wonder I hated coming down the Strip. "Fuck, from now on let's start taking the backstreets and remind me that walking is complete shit."
"Duely noted Mademoiselle." Brendon seemed to sound so exsquisite when he spoke French. "Damn I need to take up French.. it sounds hot."
"Stop being gay, Bren." Ryan questioned the boy and I almost knew I had a comeback to smite Ry.
But I decided I'd let him keep his dignity, well... for now.
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A/N: Okay so I wish this would've had a lot more dialogue, but I think since this is almost like a first person perspective, I need to actually put Brie's thoughts into the story. There's going to be more dialogue and less backstory eventually I hope, but I'm working into the story molding still - hold your horses cowboys (and cowgirls)! I will be using the names you guys gave me and go ahead and leave reviews for me to read and see what else can go down. The story plot isn't thought out, at all; I'm still wondering what the hell to write about. So happy reading people!
PS No, there is no such place as the Westerly Home. I made it up.. so don't expect to find it if you are visiting Vegas. If you find a haunted house in Vegas, let me know. Happy hunting!
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"You're a bitch!" Ryan managed to whip out the "magic" finger against Brendon, staring at him across the table like he was some insane creature from the Earth's core (no cheesy 50s flick pun intended). I sat by and watched them bicker about who should sit in the crease of the diner seat.
They were fighting like fucking five year olds over who should be in the middle of a crease on a diner seat. We decided that we would be "tourists" for a day and act like morons, so we stopped by the Eiffel Tower Restaurant. Now let me tell you, as a native to Las Vegas, things really arent what they seem. The glamour exists, yes - but I doubt we have such great forensic teams that investigate a case within a span of an hour. Come on now, couldn't you go bother to trample LA and film in their town? "Hey there's a bunch of faggots who commit petty crimes in Vegas AND it's pretty - let's film there!" I'm not trying to offend anyone, either. It's just that.. Vegas isn't a stereotype of being 'Sin City,' if you will. I have roamed Craig Rd in North Las Vegas frequently and even found myself lost in Victory Village in Henderson (and let me tell you how bored the boys and I tend to get when they get back home, but usually we are so CRAAZY psyched about their appearance we lock ourselves in each other's homes and find ourselves passed out ontop of each other. Well, sometimes.). Back to the point, like I said.. everyone thinks these boys are easy to cope with and they really aren't. I zoned out for atleast five minutes and now Brendon was having an all-out war with Spencer and Ryan at the same time. They had moved on from the fact that Brendon stole the "crease" to who stole my napkin. This wasn't the worst of it all, though. I've seen them argue over who got to exit the bus first when they were performing that night. It's true, I've seen it before and that was the night where Jon ended up getting a black eye cause some prissy little bitch (who shall remain nameless, for obvious reasons on how this would damage his cover up of how truly flamboyant he is) decided to throw a balled up extension cord. They expected me to be the peace keeper, too. I think this time I would just sit back and enjoy how petty they looked right about now, especially since we were 11 stories up about the Strip anyway.
Francis, our waiter, knew I was in absolute hell. I was dealing with a bunch of seven year olds (yes, they grew two years in fighting within five minutes) who could not contain their excitement. This was the first night they were back for atleast two weeks and it would be another month and a half until they atleast got a week off for Thanksgiving to spend it home with their families (or in Ryan and Spencer's case, with me and my tiny ass apartment where we'd attempt to try and prepare a semi-veggie meal since I love turkeys waay too much to roast them). Fortunately for me, we were going to bask in a buffet of salads and desserts that I can picture Ryan whining a week from Thanksgiving his size 0 pants don't fit anymore. You can only imagine it, one of your best friends having a smaller waist than you and acting like a melodramatic whore that he ate too much on the one day Americans are actually allowed to have a reason to be obese. The menu just didn't settle to well with my stomach. Asparagus Soup with aged Parmesan Flan? Was that even legal to serve, anyway? I mean I understood they were French but some of these "appealing" courses just made my stomach toss itself back and forth. For a moment I absorbed the disgust I felt from the thought of eating baked Atlanic Salmon and immediately shut the menu. If they guys really wanted to eat here, I would just drink glasses of water and fill myself up to the bone. To keep the stomach bile down, I clamped my mouth shut and gave a forced smile through gritted teeth of how sick seafood really made me. I don't understand how in the hell anyone could eat this junk, anyway. Spencer seemed to have taken a follow role of what I had done - sit there with a shut menu and remaining silent until the rest decided what poor sea creature it decided to kill. If I was a lobster and some fishing bastard wanted to cook me for 50$ a pop, I'd clip his fucking finger off and swim away with that bitchin' red tail of mine! I forgot what the proper name was for the lobster's tail.. somehow I ceased to gather knowledge from my biology days in highschool.
"Guys, this shit is rank. I am not eating lobster or... Le Pavay de Saymon.. Sayvage.. shit, I'm not eating Atlanic Salmon!" I managed to reply, setting my opinion down on the table and glancing around the table to see the expression on their faces. "Just the thought of seeing the lobsters getting boiled makes my stomache do a complete 360 inside."
"I'm with Brie on this one, seafood is not the way to go our first night home." Spencer seemed to be saving my ass as Jon's jaw dropped and a few spectators had the indecency to be assholes and listen to what we were saying. "I'm definitely not hauling my ass or anyone else's to sleep 6 hours, throwing everything up. Seafood is a no deal."
"Shit then let's go get some fastfood!" Ryan squealed with excitement as we pulled ourselves from the dining table and made an exit as fast as we could. "This place blows, I know I'm never bringing my mom here for her birthday."
"Typical Ry, always gotta be cliche and bring his mother somewhere he's already experienced." Spencer snickered, and I just took note on the sneer Ryan happened to throw his way. They were always so feisty, but go figure: they'd been fighting ever since the nap in class days.
"You guys are such melodramatic drama queens." Jon just had to be the one who always used fancy schmancy words to make us feel like little kids. I didn't get why he wanted to prove to us he didn't have better things to do like get laid, but instead read a fucking dictionary all day. Come to think of it.. I think Jon and I get along better because he's the one who seems intelligent, while the rest were prissy little girls.
No wonder Ryan got mad jealous when Jon and I were laughing over some article in Vogue we didn't understand. Well, who understood Vogue anyway? The only reason Jon and I run to the store to buy the magazine is to look at the pretty as hell models who are probably half of my weight (Well that'd mean they'd be atleast 62 pounds since I am 114 pounds, straight on the dot. Yes, I'm a bit of a weight freak.. but I'm eighteen, I'm entitled to that right thank you very much). That and we liked to clip the skinniest model, and not to mention somewhat prettiest, to the refridgerator in my apartment so we could count how many days it'd last up there. The longest record a magazine cutout had lasted was three days that was in the April issue that was held up by the 'H' magnet. I didn't understand how Ryan could be jealous over Jon and I's new friendship, especially after having met him just a few months ago when the boys came home from their first tour with having Jon play bass, even after all the years I had to endure with his fetish for collecting stamps and accusing me when one of his girlfriend's found it, or how we would sometimes scare the living wits out of Spencer on Halloween when we wandered around the abandoned Westerly home in North Las Vegas. That place still gave me the creeps and the trio hadn't been out there for years. If I had a proper attention span, I could put an estimate on how many years it really has been since we ran out screaming for our lives from some spook in the mansion, but I'm just going to assume it was my Sophomore year. Go figure, it was about the time I was saying goodbye to Ryan in highschool and Spencer and I were left to kick ourselves and loathe the fact that we still had a year and two more years to go. When Spencer left, I had one year left to go and I just recently graduated so I'm pretty happy that those days are over, especially since I hardly got to see my boys (even though they promised me they'd visit me after school every day of my Senior year.. I think I saw them about three months worth of days out of ten). Maybe that's what happened when you got rockstars for best friends, huh?
All while I had zoned out, Spencer and Ryan were talking about some new video game to pick up at EB Games in the Fashion Show Mall. Brendon was too busy being fascinated at how the elevator was functioning, and I thought I was the creep but Jon was just standing there - like a deadbeat. He looked hollow for some reason, and I almost wanted to throw a quarter at him to see if he'd flinch and immediately start swinging his arms around frantically. I decided it against it because it might cause WWC - that is World War 100 in case you weren't so avid in about roman numerals quite like I was - since all the guys enjoyed was to find anything necessary to argue about and then endure the worst possible fights that caused them to chuck any inanimate object I owned. When we got off the bottom of the elevator, I was relieved in a way since the entire way down I was avoiding to look below since it was the worst possible thing after Daddy-Long-Legs. Yeah so what? I was a wimp and spiders were probably the most typical and creepiest thing that was created to feast on this earth. I've had a phobia of spiders ever since Ryan pushed me into a ditch when we were eight and a Daddy-Long-Legs creeped up close to me and it freaked me the hell out. Now don't get me wrong, I love insects and any kind of creature God created, but arachnids and I never got along. I prefered to keep it that way, too. I didn't want to be the freak of a kid in elementary who had a habit of making spider friends before actual human beings. That'd make me even weirder than the kid who ate glue and liked to talk about his friend "Frank." The streets of Vegas were crowded.. I mean they were packed. But when weren't they? It seemed almost impossible to manuever, especially after there was a huge clump of Japanese tourists standing right in front of the exit to the elevator and just trying to say "Excuse me" loud enough wasn't cutting it. It must've taken atleast ten minutes to make it out of there because I could see Spencer and Brendon looking frantic, almost like their cat died when we found each other outside Paris. Somehow, the Bellagio never got old to look at. It was almost the perfect setting of where I wanted to live for the rest of my life just cause it's where my mom worked while I was growing up. Roaming the casino with my mom holding my hand and looking around inside just fascinated me. Someday, I want to get married in the Bellagio. Fat chance, though. I'm too selfless - like Jon says - to ever actually find a guy that won't take advantage of my giving nature. To hell he will, I'd gladly kick his nuts and throw him straight out into the damn cold.
"So where are we going anyway?" I asked, because I certainly was not up for eating fastfood, especially if it was McDonalds or something that served nothing but poultry and beef. I guess the guys somehow forgot in the last fifteen minutes I was a vegetarian.
"Let's get some Chinese food, instead." Brendon always had the better ideas, he knew that Spencer and I couldn't resist a heaping bowl of chow mein.
"Oh shit, mixed veggies!" Spencer shouted.. then I realized he immediately pulled his arms back down and narrowed his eyes toward Brendon. "You do realize that if we walk, it'll take us an hour because we're fat asses and don't walk fast enough?"
"That's why you take a /bus/, Spence." Ryan sounded almost half witty for a second there, shooting a grin towards the boy who growled towards him softly. I almost wished Ryan hadn't said that.. just so I could've sounded like the smart ass. Damn you Ry and thinking exactly like me.
"Well I guess we gotta wait cause shit, these buses are packed.. especially at, oh, five o' clock at night?" I was right because when I took a look at the public bus, I doubt it was going to be easy to cram us into atleast the next bus or even the one after that. No wonder I hated coming down the Strip. "Fuck, from now on let's start taking the backstreets and remind me that walking is complete shit."
"Duely noted Mademoiselle." Brendon seemed to sound so exsquisite when he spoke French. "Damn I need to take up French.. it sounds hot."
"Stop being gay, Bren." Ryan questioned the boy and I almost knew I had a comeback to smite Ry.
But I decided I'd let him keep his dignity, well... for now.
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A/N: Okay so I wish this would've had a lot more dialogue, but I think since this is almost like a first person perspective, I need to actually put Brie's thoughts into the story. There's going to be more dialogue and less backstory eventually I hope, but I'm working into the story molding still - hold your horses cowboys (and cowgirls)! I will be using the names you guys gave me and go ahead and leave reviews for me to read and see what else can go down. The story plot isn't thought out, at all; I'm still wondering what the hell to write about. So happy reading people!
PS No, there is no such place as the Westerly Home. I made it up.. so don't expect to find it if you are visiting Vegas. If you find a haunted house in Vegas, let me know. Happy hunting!
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