Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > So The Story Goes...
Ch. 1 So The Story Goes...
11 reviewsNichole lurks the interwebz and receives a phone call from The Unmentionable One :P
0Unrated
A/N: Disclaimer: I own no one. (like, duh!)
And just a little note, anything that’s in parenthesis is the thought of the character; I’m not going to comment in the middle of the story, just in case you’re wondering. It’s the thoughts of whoever is talking.
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I was just fishing around live journal for a YSI of one of my own songs, when I stumbled upon a picture of Ryan Ross and I. I looked at the date: 8/25, only two nights before. We were just coming out of the Angels & Kings nightclub. I laughed at the silly faces we were making. My tongue was sticking out and a hilarious scowl was on my face. I rolled my eyes at how horrible I looked and glanced back at the fake shocked expression Ryan had chosen to flash the paparazzi. He, as always, looked completely cute in his pin stripe pants, and relaxed button-down white shirt with a light gray vest thrown over it. I looked to the side of the screen and clicked on another thumbnail from the same night. In this one we were both smiling and hugging. I melted. I remembered that hug.
“We’re just friends” Ryan’s words echoed in my head, splitting my heart for the billionth time since that night, bringing my fuzzy feelings crashing to the ground. It had been directed at one of the cameramen who had told him to ‘Give her a big smooch’. I knew he would never like me the way I loved him, but I hated having to hear the words come from his mouth. To Ryan, I was nothing more than a friend. A good friend… but a friend, nonetheless. But to me, he was one of the greatest guys I had met in my life. Ever since the first day I had met him three years ago, I loved him. He had always been there for me… especially after… him. I brushed the thought away and subconsciously, scrolled down to the comments below the picture.
“Who is that he’s hugging? Is that his girlfriend?!” I wish. I thought. I couldn’t believe that I kept reading.
“Nah, that’s his friend, Nichole Vacor. She's in a lot of their music videos and I think that she has an album out of her own or something.”
“Didn’t she used to date Jeremy Hunt, the lead singer of Hello Grace?” I cringed at his name…
Another person answered: “Yeah, but she broke up with him, like two years ago because she thought she was too good for him. Ew, she’s such a slut!” Good for you; you know absolutely nothing about my personal life except for what HE wants you to think. I mumbled in my head, continuing to read the latest batch of e-drama these little kids could concoct… maybe I looked like I was pregnant with Brendon’s quadruplets, too… hmm, stupid teenies.
“It’s Ryan’s personal life, y’all. He can do whatever he wants and be friends with whomever he wants. Stop being such teenies. Y’all are like ‘OMG! She better get her hands off him ‘cause he’s all MINE!!11!!’ Get over yourselves and let him be happy.” Thank you random person I don’t know but love! I smiled to myself.
“OMG! I can’t believe he’s actually touching her. Doesn’t he know that he can get STD’s that way?! Ew!!! Look at her! D: She is so using him! Doesn’t he know about what happened to Jeremy?!”
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I knew that all of Ryan’s fans thought this about me. When I mentioned it to him once, he just said “Not ALL of them think that, Nichole. Plus, these are the same people that have it all figured out and KNOW Brendon and I are gay together.” He had laughed and pulled me into a hug. The truth is that it’s not just his fans… it’s everyone… the ENTIRE WORLD, no exaggeration. They all think that I was some snob who became too famous be seen with the likes of Jer… Jer… the unmentionable one. I still wasn’t completely over it. And, the fact that everyone was rubbing the garbage that he and his publicist (formerly known as my brother) came up with in my face didn’t help much, either.
Soon, the comments dissipated into ‘why he’s wearing those hideous scarves’ and how ‘he’s sooo much hotter than Urie, guys, sorry’ (agreed, btw). I sighed.
“I wish they’d just move on like that all together,” I said aloud mostly to myself.
“Who’d just move on?” Asked McKenna, my roommate and best friend, as she walked in the front door.
“Stupid Panic! Teenies.” I mumbled, still engrossed in my computer screen. She looked over my shoulder to the computer screen. I hate when people do that. As I turned to glare at her, she looked away and laughed.
“You hang out with the guys every day, you have no reason to stalk them on the Internet.” She said while hanging up her coat in the corridor of our rather small three-bedroom apartment in NYC.
“No, I just randomly found some pictures from Saturday,” I told her, scrolling back up to the picture of Ryan and I. She flashed me a you-know-you-shouldn’t-be-reading-the-comments face, before looking at the picture.
“Oooh! Ryan looks happy hugging you,” she winked. She was the only person in the world to whom I had ever mentioned my ‘fancy’ for Ryan.
“Shut up. We’re “just friends”,” I answered dramatically, using air quotes to tell her what Ryan had said.
“He said that?” she asked almost shocked.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“How did that come up?” She asked intrigued.
“Well, I didn’t get up the guts to tell him that I’m in love with him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” she said casually, her face implying that she actually had been.
“Some camera dude told him to ‘give her a big smooch’ and he said it then.” I explained, using air quotes again for the paparazzi.
“Then that doesn’t count,” she grinned. “He had to cover his feelings up in front of the media. He couldn’t have you dissing him all over the streets of New York.” She explained matter-of-factly, walking over to the mini fridge and taking out a bottle of water.
“UNO: I wouldn’t have dissed him. DOS: he has no ‘feelings’ for me.”
“UNO: STOP USING AIR QUOTES,” she groaned at me. “DOS:…You know he loves you.” She giggled.
“As a friend” I interjected quietly.
“And he can’t stop thinking about you.” She sang
“He can’t stop worrying about me as in whether or not I’ll slip back into depression.” I corrected her, explaining why he’d continuously call me while he was on tour.
“You two still make a cute couple. Friends, or MORE than friends.” She smirked.
“They think I’m using him.” I answered scrolling down the comments of the third picture.
“Who?” she asked confused, dropping on the couch across from the computer desk and kicking off her heels.
“The Panic! Teenies!” I answered exasperatedly.
“They bringing up the ‘unmentionable’ one?” McKenna asked, about to make air quotes, but quickly catching herself, ran her fingers threw her frizzy, dirty blonde hair.
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes.
“Why do you keep reading that junk if you know that they’re just gonna dog you?” She asked, knowing the answer.
“It’s addicting.” I said simply. I had always been into the tabloids. I never took them seriously, but I always thought it was funny to see what new rumors the media had developed. It was a type of prejudice that I was simply amazed (maybe even slightly appalled) that people never noticed or protested. I guess this was just some twisted karma: seeing myself in the same position that all the other celebs were in.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself, y’know.”
“Too late.” I answered. She sighed. There was no arguing with me and she knew it. I was going to read the tabloids… I was going to lurk on the band message boards… I was (in every respect) going to be a teenie myself, until the day I died. I was just stubborn like that. There was no talking me out of it… plenty had tried.
Just then, the phone rang.
“I’ll get it.” She said. I hated answering the phone. Kenna knew this. Had I been the only one in the house, it would be ringing for days, at the mercy of our answering machine.
“Hello?” I heard her say from the kitchen. “Who?” She said. “Oh.” She answered, and hung up the phone.
“Who was it?” I asked her.
“Wrong number.” She murmured through sipping her water.
Yeah right. I thought at her response as the phone rang again.
“I’ll get it!” she jumped.
I heard her answer with a less than cheery ‘hello’ again, then press the button to end the conversation almost a second after answering it. From the corner of my eye, I saw her reach down and unplug the phone from the jack in the wall.
“Who was THAT?” I asked her.
“No one.” She said quietly. I turned from the computer and looked her in the eyes
“Who?” I demanded.
“Some one.” She sighed.
“WHO?” I almost shrieked in frustration.
“It doesn’t matter. Just… Just ignore them, okay?”
“Kenna! Who was it?!” I hated secrets, especially ones that seemed as big as this.
“Nichole, just leave it alone.” Her eyes pleaded with me to drop it. I nodded my head and turned back around to look at the rest of the photos I had found, though not being able to truly concentrate.
“I’m going to go take a shower.” She announced a few minutes later, walking down the hallway to the bathroom.
I waited until she had left, then raced over to the phone. Fumbling with the cords, I managed to plug it back up. I sat and stared at the phone for several seconds, until it surprisingly began to ring again.
I grabbed it. “Hello?” The adrenaline caused my voice to sound much higher than normal. “Kenna, please let me talk to her! I need to say something to her.” I slapped the phone back down on the receiver and melted to the kitchen floor. “Je… Jeremy?” I whispered. Then collapsed in tears at the sound of HIS name coming from my own lips… traitors.
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A/N: I know this doesn’t make sense yet. This is actually about three years after everything in the story has happened. Basically, the whole story will be a flashback. I just made this chapter to kind of introduce the main people. So… if you’re lost now, don’t worry, everything is going to be explained. And if it never does, then review and ask me, ‘cause I might totally forget to add something :/
Reviews are loved. It would be fabulous is someone could give me some constructive criticism or tell me EVERYTHING that’s wrong with it in their eyes. But I’ve lurked around here long enough to know that y’all are too lame to be haters… J/K :P I truly appreciate any type of review. They’ll all make me feel fuzzy :) Thank you for reading. Let me know if I should write more and what you’d like to see in future chapters. I need suggestions for characters so names/ descriptions (especially for the guys in Hello Grace) are highly appreciated.
Much Love
And just a little note, anything that’s in parenthesis is the thought of the character; I’m not going to comment in the middle of the story, just in case you’re wondering. It’s the thoughts of whoever is talking.
-------------------------------
I was just fishing around live journal for a YSI of one of my own songs, when I stumbled upon a picture of Ryan Ross and I. I looked at the date: 8/25, only two nights before. We were just coming out of the Angels & Kings nightclub. I laughed at the silly faces we were making. My tongue was sticking out and a hilarious scowl was on my face. I rolled my eyes at how horrible I looked and glanced back at the fake shocked expression Ryan had chosen to flash the paparazzi. He, as always, looked completely cute in his pin stripe pants, and relaxed button-down white shirt with a light gray vest thrown over it. I looked to the side of the screen and clicked on another thumbnail from the same night. In this one we were both smiling and hugging. I melted. I remembered that hug.
“We’re just friends” Ryan’s words echoed in my head, splitting my heart for the billionth time since that night, bringing my fuzzy feelings crashing to the ground. It had been directed at one of the cameramen who had told him to ‘Give her a big smooch’. I knew he would never like me the way I loved him, but I hated having to hear the words come from his mouth. To Ryan, I was nothing more than a friend. A good friend… but a friend, nonetheless. But to me, he was one of the greatest guys I had met in my life. Ever since the first day I had met him three years ago, I loved him. He had always been there for me… especially after… him. I brushed the thought away and subconsciously, scrolled down to the comments below the picture.
“Who is that he’s hugging? Is that his girlfriend?!” I wish. I thought. I couldn’t believe that I kept reading.
“Nah, that’s his friend, Nichole Vacor. She's in a lot of their music videos and I think that she has an album out of her own or something.”
“Didn’t she used to date Jeremy Hunt, the lead singer of Hello Grace?” I cringed at his name…
Another person answered: “Yeah, but she broke up with him, like two years ago because she thought she was too good for him. Ew, she’s such a slut!” Good for you; you know absolutely nothing about my personal life except for what HE wants you to think. I mumbled in my head, continuing to read the latest batch of e-drama these little kids could concoct… maybe I looked like I was pregnant with Brendon’s quadruplets, too… hmm, stupid teenies.
“It’s Ryan’s personal life, y’all. He can do whatever he wants and be friends with whomever he wants. Stop being such teenies. Y’all are like ‘OMG! She better get her hands off him ‘cause he’s all MINE!!11!!’ Get over yourselves and let him be happy.” Thank you random person I don’t know but love! I smiled to myself.
“OMG! I can’t believe he’s actually touching her. Doesn’t he know that he can get STD’s that way?! Ew!!! Look at her! D: She is so using him! Doesn’t he know about what happened to Jeremy?!”
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I knew that all of Ryan’s fans thought this about me. When I mentioned it to him once, he just said “Not ALL of them think that, Nichole. Plus, these are the same people that have it all figured out and KNOW Brendon and I are gay together.” He had laughed and pulled me into a hug. The truth is that it’s not just his fans… it’s everyone… the ENTIRE WORLD, no exaggeration. They all think that I was some snob who became too famous be seen with the likes of Jer… Jer… the unmentionable one. I still wasn’t completely over it. And, the fact that everyone was rubbing the garbage that he and his publicist (formerly known as my brother) came up with in my face didn’t help much, either.
Soon, the comments dissipated into ‘why he’s wearing those hideous scarves’ and how ‘he’s sooo much hotter than Urie, guys, sorry’ (agreed, btw). I sighed.
“I wish they’d just move on like that all together,” I said aloud mostly to myself.
“Who’d just move on?” Asked McKenna, my roommate and best friend, as she walked in the front door.
“Stupid Panic! Teenies.” I mumbled, still engrossed in my computer screen. She looked over my shoulder to the computer screen. I hate when people do that. As I turned to glare at her, she looked away and laughed.
“You hang out with the guys every day, you have no reason to stalk them on the Internet.” She said while hanging up her coat in the corridor of our rather small three-bedroom apartment in NYC.
“No, I just randomly found some pictures from Saturday,” I told her, scrolling back up to the picture of Ryan and I. She flashed me a you-know-you-shouldn’t-be-reading-the-comments face, before looking at the picture.
“Oooh! Ryan looks happy hugging you,” she winked. She was the only person in the world to whom I had ever mentioned my ‘fancy’ for Ryan.
“Shut up. We’re “just friends”,” I answered dramatically, using air quotes to tell her what Ryan had said.
“He said that?” she asked almost shocked.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“How did that come up?” She asked intrigued.
“Well, I didn’t get up the guts to tell him that I’m in love with him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” she said casually, her face implying that she actually had been.
“Some camera dude told him to ‘give her a big smooch’ and he said it then.” I explained, using air quotes again for the paparazzi.
“Then that doesn’t count,” she grinned. “He had to cover his feelings up in front of the media. He couldn’t have you dissing him all over the streets of New York.” She explained matter-of-factly, walking over to the mini fridge and taking out a bottle of water.
“UNO: I wouldn’t have dissed him. DOS: he has no ‘feelings’ for me.”
“UNO: STOP USING AIR QUOTES,” she groaned at me. “DOS:…You know he loves you.” She giggled.
“As a friend” I interjected quietly.
“And he can’t stop thinking about you.” She sang
“He can’t stop worrying about me as in whether or not I’ll slip back into depression.” I corrected her, explaining why he’d continuously call me while he was on tour.
“You two still make a cute couple. Friends, or MORE than friends.” She smirked.
“They think I’m using him.” I answered scrolling down the comments of the third picture.
“Who?” she asked confused, dropping on the couch across from the computer desk and kicking off her heels.
“The Panic! Teenies!” I answered exasperatedly.
“They bringing up the ‘unmentionable’ one?” McKenna asked, about to make air quotes, but quickly catching herself, ran her fingers threw her frizzy, dirty blonde hair.
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes.
“Why do you keep reading that junk if you know that they’re just gonna dog you?” She asked, knowing the answer.
“It’s addicting.” I said simply. I had always been into the tabloids. I never took them seriously, but I always thought it was funny to see what new rumors the media had developed. It was a type of prejudice that I was simply amazed (maybe even slightly appalled) that people never noticed or protested. I guess this was just some twisted karma: seeing myself in the same position that all the other celebs were in.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself, y’know.”
“Too late.” I answered. She sighed. There was no arguing with me and she knew it. I was going to read the tabloids… I was going to lurk on the band message boards… I was (in every respect) going to be a teenie myself, until the day I died. I was just stubborn like that. There was no talking me out of it… plenty had tried.
Just then, the phone rang.
“I’ll get it.” She said. I hated answering the phone. Kenna knew this. Had I been the only one in the house, it would be ringing for days, at the mercy of our answering machine.
“Hello?” I heard her say from the kitchen. “Who?” She said. “Oh.” She answered, and hung up the phone.
“Who was it?” I asked her.
“Wrong number.” She murmured through sipping her water.
Yeah right. I thought at her response as the phone rang again.
“I’ll get it!” she jumped.
I heard her answer with a less than cheery ‘hello’ again, then press the button to end the conversation almost a second after answering it. From the corner of my eye, I saw her reach down and unplug the phone from the jack in the wall.
“Who was THAT?” I asked her.
“No one.” She said quietly. I turned from the computer and looked her in the eyes
“Who?” I demanded.
“Some one.” She sighed.
“WHO?” I almost shrieked in frustration.
“It doesn’t matter. Just… Just ignore them, okay?”
“Kenna! Who was it?!” I hated secrets, especially ones that seemed as big as this.
“Nichole, just leave it alone.” Her eyes pleaded with me to drop it. I nodded my head and turned back around to look at the rest of the photos I had found, though not being able to truly concentrate.
“I’m going to go take a shower.” She announced a few minutes later, walking down the hallway to the bathroom.
I waited until she had left, then raced over to the phone. Fumbling with the cords, I managed to plug it back up. I sat and stared at the phone for several seconds, until it surprisingly began to ring again.
I grabbed it. “Hello?” The adrenaline caused my voice to sound much higher than normal. “Kenna, please let me talk to her! I need to say something to her.” I slapped the phone back down on the receiver and melted to the kitchen floor. “Je… Jeremy?” I whispered. Then collapsed in tears at the sound of HIS name coming from my own lips… traitors.
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A/N: I know this doesn’t make sense yet. This is actually about three years after everything in the story has happened. Basically, the whole story will be a flashback. I just made this chapter to kind of introduce the main people. So… if you’re lost now, don’t worry, everything is going to be explained. And if it never does, then review and ask me, ‘cause I might totally forget to add something :/
Reviews are loved. It would be fabulous is someone could give me some constructive criticism or tell me EVERYTHING that’s wrong with it in their eyes. But I’ve lurked around here long enough to know that y’all are too lame to be haters… J/K :P I truly appreciate any type of review. They’ll all make me feel fuzzy :) Thank you for reading. Let me know if I should write more and what you’d like to see in future chapters. I need suggestions for characters so names/ descriptions (especially for the guys in Hello Grace) are highly appreciated.
Much Love
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