Do You Know What It Feels Like?

Wednesday, 7:32 PM.

Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco tour bus.

Boredom is a very unique thing to experience. When one does happen to stumble across a moment of boredom, one is quickly sucked in, as if by a vaccum, into an endless, winding abyss of lack of intrigue in life. You might assume, though, that celebrities - faces on tabloids that ceaselessly report what interesting (good or bad) thing they might have done - might not have enough time on their hands to experience the deathly pull of boredom.

Nothing is impossible.

Imagine this scene : A tour bus on a long and never ending road. Travel your attention into the main lounge, where you will definitely find ten people, all in different areas: some on couches, on counters, on the floor, or standing by the doorway. They all genetically different, but each individual's face is pulled up into the identical expression - eyes lazy and unfocused, the corners of their mouths pulled down slightly, hair messy and hands fumbling, almost shaking to do anything.

The picture, the exact epitome of pure, utter boredom.

"Fuck, I'm bored." Jon swung his legs around, as he was sitting on the counter, strewn with empty chips bags and candy wrappers. He took a quick glance around his makeshift seat for anything edible, but found nothing. Sighing, he turned back to the somber faces in the bus.

"I thought touring would be slightly more interesting than this." Andy complained, stretching out from her place on the couch, her feet propped up on Taylor's lap.

"No one asked you to come." Pete raised his eyebrows, for all the world as though it was is suggestion for her to sneak onto the bus.

"I know," She conceded, not even bothering to argue for lack of brain power.

Another moment of silence passed without much progress.

In a sudden, heart-stopping moment, Pete sat up straight, his face bright and excited, contrary to his former expression only a few seconds back. "I know what to do!"

Everyone turned to look at the short little man with the supposed idea.

"Okay," Pete started, drawing himself up with some pride, "Well, today is a Wednesday, so tomorrow's a Thursday, right?"

"Yeah, Pete, and now we all know you know the days of the fucking week. Give yourself a prize." Andy rolled her eyes impatiently.

"Dude, just let me finish!" He ordered, a little annoyed. Andy turned away, deciding only to listen if necessary. "So since today is Wednesday, and tomorrow's a Thursday, we don't have shows." He grinned widely, feeling the comprehension in the room coming on, almost tangible. "So that means..."

"PARTY NIGHT!" Spencer cheered.

A buzz of "Yeah, dude!"s and "Party time! Hell yes!"s rang around the lounge. Pete, looking self-satisfied at the very least, leaned back in appreciation of himself.

"Sounds great, guys, but we have one problem." Andy cut in grimly. Everyone looked at him, confused and almost desperate that he had only made an error in his statement. "A lot of us are underage." Slowly, he pointed at each under 21 individual. "Patrick only just hits it, dude. No way are we going to have a party night. Unless you want an amusement park."

Faces were falling back into their old demeanor until Pete made a loud tch.

"Dude, no problem. We can just totally go to Angels and Kings. As long as you're with me, you'll have nothing to worry about."

Everyone let out loud whoops and cheers again, and sent Joe to tell the bus driver to make a stop at Pete's bar.

Even Andy had to somehow admit it was a pretty good idea. For an idiot brother, at least.

x

8: 43 PM, Wednesday.

Angels and Kings.

"Okay, guys, here we are." Pete announced as everyone took in the interior of their one-night haven. "Have fun, party smartly. Shit, no, fuck that." He waved his hand dismissively, laughing slightly. "Party hard. Oh, Andy, watch what the fuck you're drinking before you touch it. You had better come back at least a percent sober."

He walked away, not catching the finger she gave his retreating back.

Everyone clumped together, fidgeting to have as much time to have fun as the night would allow.

"Okay, I dunno about you guys, but I'm about to hit the booze big time tonight. Coming with?" Brendon said excitedly. All the guys nodded in ecstatic agreement. The two girls shrugged and conceded, following the huge group of celebrities, racing to the bar.

x

10: 25 PM, Wednesday.

Angels and Kings.

After almost an hour of more or less non-stop drinking, twenty tour bus members were tripping around Angels and Kings. You might be asking how the number had suddenly multiplied over the time that had passed. They didn't.

They were just seeing double.

Brendon put down his glass firmly on the counter, contemplating if he should consume more, and, more importantly, if his body could still handle another dose. Dwelling on this, he glanced around him, not really registering what his eyes were pointing at. After a moment of dizzy observance, they fixed on the girl seated on a bar stool, tipsily watching the huddle of guys laughing at the neon sign at the far end of the room.

Carelessly, he approached her, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Taylor."

"Hey." Her face was flushed - she had drunk a little too much for her tolerance, even though she wouldn't directly admit so. 'Having fun?"

"Yeah, definitely. Are you?"

"Totally." She leaned back, still following the so-called men as they stumbled towards the center of the venue.

"Cool." He leaned back, following her gaze to the idiots making even more senseless jokes. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I'd never say say this to a girl, to her face, but I really like you." He turned her head to stare at her face pointedly, but she still wasn't fully minding him. Had it been any other situation, he probably wouldn't have said anything as bold or as direct, and probably wouldn't have started a conversation in the first place. But the strong alcohol had given his tongue a sort of straight edge when it rolled out the words, and he had no control over it. Not that it seemed to matter, at this point in time.

"Yeah?" She raise a questioning eyebrow at the poster on the wall across her.

"Yeah."

She turned her head slowly, as though weighing out if her brain was going to fall out of her skull if she moved too quickly. "Are you serious?"

"Sure," It was his turn to act nonchalant, focusing on the booth everyone was stupidly trying to squeeze into. Ryan called out to them.

"Yo, Bren, have a fuckin' seat, dude. Get your ass over here, join the party!"

Brendon pretended to ignore the invitation.

"Because if you're just kidding around," She hiccuped, ruining the deadly threat vibe, "I'm seriously going to kick your ass."

"You are?"

"Well, no. But I'd ask someone really buff to do it."

"I wasn't kidding around," Brendon wrapped a heavy arm around her shoulder, more for support than anything else. Not that he didn't know she wasn't really the pillar of strength at this point. "I was dead serious."

She hopped down from her perch, woozily attempting to regain her long-lost balance. She pointed a finger at his chest.

"Prove it."

Brendon furrowed his brow. Prove it? No one had ever asked for a proof of affection in his life. Though, technically, family didn't really apply.

So how to prove it? His brain refused to work. His eyes were slightly drooping. The alcohol was taking over his system. What person would ask another to even bother thinking at all in this state?

"Would you marry me, if I asked you?"

x

One might assume that, at this point, Taylor would have snapped out of her little drunken state to do something to snap him out of his clearly insane state.

But since we must learn how to expect the unexpected, this has become a marvelous opportunity for you to practice that specific skill.

Imagine this: a tour bus, parked in a deserted parking lot. All lights are out. Focus once again on the main lounge, where ten people lay in various areas: on the couch, on the counters, on the floor. All are fast asleep - in more direct terms, passed out. Notice two silhouettes lying only a short distance away from each other. In the shallow light of the moon glints two similar golden bands on each of their left ring fingers.

Their names are Brendon Urie and Arantxa Taylor.

x.fin.x