You're a Classic Like a Little Black Dress

Over the next few days, it was easier to avoid Patrick than I’d first thought. As long as I wasn’t anywhere near the stage when Fall Out Boy finished their sound check or their set, there was almost no chance of me seeing him.

After our fourth show in Michigan, Pete called both of the bands into one of the dressing rooms. Apparently, this included me, so I followed Brendon and Jon into the room seeing as Ryan and Spencer were already in there.

Joe, Ryan, Andy and Patrick all sat on a sofa at the far end of the room, the other smaller sofa left for Brendon, Jon Spencer and myself. The three guys sat down comfortably, after they did so, I realised there wasn’t enough space for me so I planted myself on Spencer’s lap.

Immediately, he wrapped his arms around my waist to make sure I didn’t fall off. The other members of Panic didn’t bat an eyelid; however the members of Fall Out Boy looked at us very strangely. I looked over at them, confused by the looks they were giving us, when Pete said, “I didn’t know you two were going out.”

Spencer and I looked at each other; we were grossed out by the thought. He was like my brother. “We’re not, we’re just really close.” Spencer said, voicing my own thoughts.

“Oh, okay then,” Pete said, diverting his attention from us and beginning to talk, causing everyone else to do the same thing.

“Hey Pete, what did you call us all in here for?” Brendon asked, remembering we’d been asked there for a reason.

Pete brushed his short black hair out of his eyes before beginning, “So, I just wanted everyone to hang out, since the tour started it’s been pretty hectic and we’ve not really had a chance to just chill.” He announced, smiling at the group.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I leaned back, resting against Spencer’s chest, the rise and fall of his chest becoming very comforting as the chat between the boys became all but a subtle hum of noise around me.

“Jess. Is it okay if I call you that?” Pete asked me, I nodded. “Tell us about you, we know these four goof balls pretty well,” he motioned towards Panic. “But we know hardly anything about you.”

“Well, what would you like to know? Just ask me random questions and I’ll answer them.”
Pete’s eyes lit up, he began shooting questions at me. “What’s your full name? Do you have any siblings? How old are you?”

“My full name is Jessica Adrienne Rousseau. I have one sister, her name is Eva and I am 21 years old. Anything else?” I giggled.

“Erm,” he rattled off a few more very simple questions which I answered with ease.

“One last question, how do you know Patrick?” he asked, seeming truly interested.

As soon as his name was uttered, Patrick’s head shot up, throughout the entire Q&A session from Pete, he’d kept quiet, not saying one word.

He made eye contact with me for the second time, the first being the first time met during Fall Out Boy’s sound check. His eyes pleaded me not to say anything.

“We went to school together, nothing interesting.” I answered, telling the truth, but not necessarily the whole truth.

“But you said you got close during your Senior Year…” he prompted.

I couldn’t take it, my head was spinning, my palms were sweating, and my face had probably turned completely red. Before even thinking, I got up and ran from the room, dashing into the nearby Ladies’ toilets.

As I made my way out, I could hear them calling my name, questioning my odd behaviour, but I was too busy running to listen to any of them.

Bursting through the red door, I headed straight for a stall. Relieving my legs of my weight, I sat on the lid of the toilet.

My head in my hands, all I could do was think. My breath coming fast and heavy from my lungs, I tried to calm myself down, but it wasn’t working.

“Jessie?” I heard a soft voice call.

It was the last person I was expecting.

Patrick.

“What do you want?” I asked harshly.

“I want to talk to you, to explain things.” He spoke, just as softly as he had before.

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” I was well aware of how childish I sounded, but at that moment, I could not have cared less.

I exited the stall, intent on leaving, walking past him, he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back to look him.

“Let go of me.” I growled.

“Jessica, listen to me,” he began, “I can’t believe you’re still upset about this.”

“You left me, Patrick. On our prom night! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is?!” I near enough screamed before pushing past him out of the dingy bathroom. I half hoped he would follow me – he didn’t.