I'm Holding Every Look
Chapter 9.
A few days had passed, and I found myself back on the Panic bus.
I awoke one morning and stretched, wandering out to the lounge of the bus in nothing but a strappy tank top and cotton shorts that had Shake It printed on the back. It was a joke from Ryan for my last birthday, because during their sets back home in Vegas at local clubs, I used to stand backstage and randomly yell "SHAKE IT BRENDON!" during I Write Sins, Not Tragedies.
And he would, indeed, shake it.
Just for me, he would tell me after the shows.
Wonderful, yeah? Having Brendon Urie willing to shake it just for you.
Eat it up, fan girls.
I saw Ryan sitting on the couch, a little plastic crown on his head, grinning like an idiot.
That's when I remembered.
It was my best friend's birthday and I didn't have a present for him.
It's not like I had forgotten, it's just that I didn't remember.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RYAN!" I shouted, jumping on him and planting a kiss on his cheek. He laughed and wrapped his arms around me.
"Thank you Jules!" He laughed again, kissing my cheek this time. "Soo, what did you get me?"
I panicked.
And not at the disco either.
Right there, on top of Ryan Ross, on the couch.
"I- You can't see it yet. You have to wait until tonight." He stuck his lip out at me, and I rolled my eyes, climbing off of him. "No puppy dog eyes, Ross. We'll be at the venue in about five minutes." I called, turning out of the lounge. Once I was out of Ryan's sight, I sprinted to my bunk, and grabbed my phone, dialing the first number on my recent calls list, and waited for the answer.
"Hello, miss Julian."
There was that Southern drawl that could calm me down in an instant.
"Jeremy, I think we have an emergency." I said. As soon as I did, I realized what had just spilled from my lips and smacked my head against the wall, on purpose.
"So are you listening?" He chuckled. I moaned and rubbed my head, leaning back in my bunk and drawing the curtain.
"No, but are you listening? For reals, Jeremy... Something is very, very wrong."
"What is it?" His voice took on a very serious tone, and I had to bite back a chuckle.
"Today is Ryan's birthday and-" I stuck my head out into the hallway. Coast clear, no George Ryan Ross the Third in sight. "I don't have a present for him." I sighed heavily.
"Well... What do you want to get him?" I thought for a moment.
"The new Britney Spears CD and some stage shirts." I blurted out. Jeremy laughed.
"Okay, let me tell you what, the Paramore bus is right behind the Panic bus, so as soon as we park, you'll say you need to go to the store for some ... hair product emergency, and I'll volunteer to go with you."
"Good plan, but... I need to set up the tent."
"Then we'll do that first and ask someone from All Time Low's table to watch your table for a few hours. We'll fill them in if we need to."
"Alright, well, we're pulling up to the venue now... so I'll see you in a few." I sniffed, and hung up the phone, slipping on a pair of leggings and a long, white v-neck shirt-dress. I grabbed my black flats and hopped whilst putting them on and attempting to get out the door. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I tapped my foot at Spencer as he opened the hatch of the bus for me to get the tent.
"Impatient today, are we, baby?" He chuckled. I glared at him and snatched the tent from his grasp.
"Yes, I am." I paused, looking around. There was Jeremy. "JEREMY!!!" I screamed, and he came trotting over. "Grab a crate or two, Spence, for that snide remark about my music choices last night, you grab whatever Jeremy can't." I ordered, marching towards the area marked with a MERCH TENTS sign.
I heard Jeremy trot up behind me. "What were you listening to last night?"
I coughed slightly, and pretended not to hear him.
"I know you heard me, Julian." Jeremy snickered and I sighed.
"I was dancing to 3OH!3, ok?" I sighed again, dropping the tent pieces behind the table marked PANIC AT THE DISCO.
The people in Portland apparently like capital letters.
Spencer appeared a few minutes later and dropped the tubs, preparing to turn away.
"Nuh-uh, Smith, you come back here." I cautioned, and he turned on his toe, a sheepish grin on his face. "You and Jeremy set up the tent for me, and I'll organize the merchandise.
They did as they were told, and soon, we were finished.
"Am I free to go?" Spencer whined. I nodded and he planted a kiss on my cheek before trotting off towards the buses. As soon as he was out of sight, I headed to the All Time Low booth next 'door' to us.
"Leah!" I stuck my head inside the tent, and saw my blonde friend emerge.
"What can I do for you?" She grinned.
"Can either you or Jake watch our table? Jeremy and I have to run to the store for something." She nodded.
"Yeah, I'll make Jake do it."
"Thanks so much, Carrie knows how much everything is, ok, bye!" I turned, bolted back to our table, and grabbed Jeremy's wrist, who was holding my purse for me already. "Thank you." I said, walking briskly towards the entrance of the grounds, where Jeremy had called for a cab to take us to the Portland mall.
I awoke one morning and stretched, wandering out to the lounge of the bus in nothing but a strappy tank top and cotton shorts that had Shake It printed on the back. It was a joke from Ryan for my last birthday, because during their sets back home in Vegas at local clubs, I used to stand backstage and randomly yell "SHAKE IT BRENDON!" during I Write Sins, Not Tragedies.
And he would, indeed, shake it.
Just for me, he would tell me after the shows.
Wonderful, yeah? Having Brendon Urie willing to shake it just for you.
Eat it up, fan girls.
I saw Ryan sitting on the couch, a little plastic crown on his head, grinning like an idiot.
That's when I remembered.
It was my best friend's birthday and I didn't have a present for him.
It's not like I had forgotten, it's just that I didn't remember.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RYAN!" I shouted, jumping on him and planting a kiss on his cheek. He laughed and wrapped his arms around me.
"Thank you Jules!" He laughed again, kissing my cheek this time. "Soo, what did you get me?"
I panicked.
And not at the disco either.
Right there, on top of Ryan Ross, on the couch.
"I- You can't see it yet. You have to wait until tonight." He stuck his lip out at me, and I rolled my eyes, climbing off of him. "No puppy dog eyes, Ross. We'll be at the venue in about five minutes." I called, turning out of the lounge. Once I was out of Ryan's sight, I sprinted to my bunk, and grabbed my phone, dialing the first number on my recent calls list, and waited for the answer.
"Hello, miss Julian."
There was that Southern drawl that could calm me down in an instant.
"Jeremy, I think we have an emergency." I said. As soon as I did, I realized what had just spilled from my lips and smacked my head against the wall, on purpose.
"So are you listening?" He chuckled. I moaned and rubbed my head, leaning back in my bunk and drawing the curtain.
"No, but are you listening? For reals, Jeremy... Something is very, very wrong."
"What is it?" His voice took on a very serious tone, and I had to bite back a chuckle.
"Today is Ryan's birthday and-" I stuck my head out into the hallway. Coast clear, no George Ryan Ross the Third in sight. "I don't have a present for him." I sighed heavily.
"Well... What do you want to get him?" I thought for a moment.
"The new Britney Spears CD and some stage shirts." I blurted out. Jeremy laughed.
"Okay, let me tell you what, the Paramore bus is right behind the Panic bus, so as soon as we park, you'll say you need to go to the store for some ... hair product emergency, and I'll volunteer to go with you."
"Good plan, but... I need to set up the tent."
"Then we'll do that first and ask someone from All Time Low's table to watch your table for a few hours. We'll fill them in if we need to."
"Alright, well, we're pulling up to the venue now... so I'll see you in a few." I sniffed, and hung up the phone, slipping on a pair of leggings and a long, white v-neck shirt-dress. I grabbed my black flats and hopped whilst putting them on and attempting to get out the door. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I tapped my foot at Spencer as he opened the hatch of the bus for me to get the tent.
"Impatient today, are we, baby?" He chuckled. I glared at him and snatched the tent from his grasp.
"Yes, I am." I paused, looking around. There was Jeremy. "JEREMY!!!" I screamed, and he came trotting over. "Grab a crate or two, Spence, for that snide remark about my music choices last night, you grab whatever Jeremy can't." I ordered, marching towards the area marked with a MERCH TENTS sign.
I heard Jeremy trot up behind me. "What were you listening to last night?"
I coughed slightly, and pretended not to hear him.
"I know you heard me, Julian." Jeremy snickered and I sighed.
"I was dancing to 3OH!3, ok?" I sighed again, dropping the tent pieces behind the table marked PANIC AT THE DISCO.
The people in Portland apparently like capital letters.
Spencer appeared a few minutes later and dropped the tubs, preparing to turn away.
"Nuh-uh, Smith, you come back here." I cautioned, and he turned on his toe, a sheepish grin on his face. "You and Jeremy set up the tent for me, and I'll organize the merchandise.
They did as they were told, and soon, we were finished.
"Am I free to go?" Spencer whined. I nodded and he planted a kiss on my cheek before trotting off towards the buses. As soon as he was out of sight, I headed to the All Time Low booth next 'door' to us.
"Leah!" I stuck my head inside the tent, and saw my blonde friend emerge.
"What can I do for you?" She grinned.
"Can either you or Jake watch our table? Jeremy and I have to run to the store for something." She nodded.
"Yeah, I'll make Jake do it."
"Thanks so much, Carrie knows how much everything is, ok, bye!" I turned, bolted back to our table, and grabbed Jeremy's wrist, who was holding my purse for me already. "Thank you." I said, walking briskly towards the entrance of the grounds, where Jeremy had called for a cab to take us to the Portland mall.