Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > You Drive Me to Distraction
After an afternoon of shopping, I decided to invite the group back to my apartment for dinner.
"You just got back. We woke you up. Are you sure?" Patrick asked, generally concerned.
"Of course! I love cooking. Although it's not the most fabulous apartment in Chicago, it's comfortable enough." I replied, opening the door.
"Home sweet home," I said, setting my bad down on the kitchen counter.
"Make yourselves comfortable. Anyone want anything to drink? And what about dinner?" I asked as they timidly came in.
"I'll come help you in the kitchen. How about you boys go get a movie?" Greta said, winking at me.
With little complaint, they went right back out, leaving Greta and I alone.
"I have never seen him look at anyone like that!" Greta squealed the moment their steps retreated. I dropped the plastic cup I was using.
"What? What are you talking about?" I asked, feeling the heat in my cheeks.
"Oh I think you know. A certain tall skinny brunette likes you!" She teased.
"I don't know what you are talking about. And what about you and Patrick?" I teased back, noticing the tension between them. I was convinced they would be adorable together, especially if they sang together.
"Oh Al I love his voice! He helped on our album and it was amazing!" Greta swooned.
"I bet. Want to boil this water?" I asked, handing her the pot. We were making pasta. I think began to make a salad. We worked in silence for the next few minutes.
Do you think he knows I'm practically in love with him?" She said, right as the door reopened. Greta's eyes got wide.
"In love with who?" Patrick asked, coming into the kitchen, smiling wide.
"Johnathan Taylor Thomas," I quickly stated. Greta and I burst into a fit of giggles while Patrick looked confused.
"Don't worry Patrick. He's got nothing on you," I said, turning back to the pasta.
I knew both would be blushing by now and I smiled to myself.
"Hey do you guys wanna set the table?" I asked. "Brendon you can help me in here."
Greta and Patrick began carrying plates over to the table, both clumsy and somewhat avoiding each other. I smiled.
"Pleased with yourself?" Brendon whispered in my ear in passing. I turned around.
"Pretty much. Someone had to do it," I replied, emptying out the water from the pot.
"We've tried, nothing's worked," he whispered back. We shared a smile.
"Dinner's ready!" I announced, as we sat down at the table.
The first few moments were filled with silence and few compliments on the food.
"What movie did you guys get?" Greta asked, breaking the silence.
"Oh you know. A good one," Brendon teased.
"You'll see when dinner's over," Patrick added.
"Can you at least tell us what genre?" I asked.
"Nope. Now finish your dinner. We got dessert too!" Patrick said.
"Sometimes I swear you're like family Patrick," I said. The rest of dinner went on in a similar manner.
"Okay, time for dessert. My favorite!" I said as I cleared the table despite their protests. Rockstars have wonderful manners. At least these ones do. I then realized I was hanging with rockstars. Wow.
"German Chocolate Cake anyone?" Brendon asked, pulling out a cake from behind his back. Greta gasped.
"I officially love you two! I love German Chocolate Cake!" She said, taking the cake into the kitchen. After cutting out four decent size pieces, we settled ourselves in the living room: Greta in an oversized chair that could fit two, and Brendon and Patrick on either side of me.
We munched in silence for a moment or two, when Brendon and Patrick both took a forkful from my plate.
"Hey!" I said, standing up away from the two cake stealers.
"That's why I'm over here. I know their games," Greta said, laughing before taking another forkful.
"Well I'm finished. Brendon, want to help me with the dishes?" I asked.
He followed me into the kitchen where I divulged my plan.
"We must get them to sit together on that chair. I'm telling you!" I explained while washing the dishes while Brendon dried.
"Excellent. We'll take up the couch. Stretch out, refuse to move. Now, how to get them both up at the same time." Brendon trailed off.
"I've got it! Get Patrick to figure out the DVD player. It will be perfect!" I said. We high fived, finished washing the dishes and returned to the living room.
"You just got back. We woke you up. Are you sure?" Patrick asked, generally concerned.
"Of course! I love cooking. Although it's not the most fabulous apartment in Chicago, it's comfortable enough." I replied, opening the door.
"Home sweet home," I said, setting my bad down on the kitchen counter.
"Make yourselves comfortable. Anyone want anything to drink? And what about dinner?" I asked as they timidly came in.
"I'll come help you in the kitchen. How about you boys go get a movie?" Greta said, winking at me.
With little complaint, they went right back out, leaving Greta and I alone.
"I have never seen him look at anyone like that!" Greta squealed the moment their steps retreated. I dropped the plastic cup I was using.
"What? What are you talking about?" I asked, feeling the heat in my cheeks.
"Oh I think you know. A certain tall skinny brunette likes you!" She teased.
"I don't know what you are talking about. And what about you and Patrick?" I teased back, noticing the tension between them. I was convinced they would be adorable together, especially if they sang together.
"Oh Al I love his voice! He helped on our album and it was amazing!" Greta swooned.
"I bet. Want to boil this water?" I asked, handing her the pot. We were making pasta. I think began to make a salad. We worked in silence for the next few minutes.
Do you think he knows I'm practically in love with him?" She said, right as the door reopened. Greta's eyes got wide.
"In love with who?" Patrick asked, coming into the kitchen, smiling wide.
"Johnathan Taylor Thomas," I quickly stated. Greta and I burst into a fit of giggles while Patrick looked confused.
"Don't worry Patrick. He's got nothing on you," I said, turning back to the pasta.
I knew both would be blushing by now and I smiled to myself.
"Hey do you guys wanna set the table?" I asked. "Brendon you can help me in here."
Greta and Patrick began carrying plates over to the table, both clumsy and somewhat avoiding each other. I smiled.
"Pleased with yourself?" Brendon whispered in my ear in passing. I turned around.
"Pretty much. Someone had to do it," I replied, emptying out the water from the pot.
"We've tried, nothing's worked," he whispered back. We shared a smile.
"Dinner's ready!" I announced, as we sat down at the table.
The first few moments were filled with silence and few compliments on the food.
"What movie did you guys get?" Greta asked, breaking the silence.
"Oh you know. A good one," Brendon teased.
"You'll see when dinner's over," Patrick added.
"Can you at least tell us what genre?" I asked.
"Nope. Now finish your dinner. We got dessert too!" Patrick said.
"Sometimes I swear you're like family Patrick," I said. The rest of dinner went on in a similar manner.
"Okay, time for dessert. My favorite!" I said as I cleared the table despite their protests. Rockstars have wonderful manners. At least these ones do. I then realized I was hanging with rockstars. Wow.
"German Chocolate Cake anyone?" Brendon asked, pulling out a cake from behind his back. Greta gasped.
"I officially love you two! I love German Chocolate Cake!" She said, taking the cake into the kitchen. After cutting out four decent size pieces, we settled ourselves in the living room: Greta in an oversized chair that could fit two, and Brendon and Patrick on either side of me.
We munched in silence for a moment or two, when Brendon and Patrick both took a forkful from my plate.
"Hey!" I said, standing up away from the two cake stealers.
"That's why I'm over here. I know their games," Greta said, laughing before taking another forkful.
"Well I'm finished. Brendon, want to help me with the dishes?" I asked.
He followed me into the kitchen where I divulged my plan.
"We must get them to sit together on that chair. I'm telling you!" I explained while washing the dishes while Brendon dried.
"Excellent. We'll take up the couch. Stretch out, refuse to move. Now, how to get them both up at the same time." Brendon trailed off.
"I've got it! Get Patrick to figure out the DVD player. It will be perfect!" I said. We high fived, finished washing the dishes and returned to the living room.
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