Do You Know What It Feels Like?

Saturday, 3:40 PM

Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco tourbus. Duh.

It was yet another afternoon with absolutely nothing to do, and nobody could have done anything better than to sit around and wait for the day to end. And, since it was too long a way off, everyone did what they did best: absolutely nothing.

But it was on these "nothing" days that something could actually occur; possibly a natural disaster, a trick of fate or a miracle. Or, maybe even all.

It all started off in the main lounge, while the whole bus was (by the praiseworthy will of God) quiet. It was a time to relish; not much more could be heard other than the purr of the engine as it cruised along the road, the whisper of the airconditioning unit that caused the napping residents of this odd mobile home to curl up in their blankets during their lazy afternoon nap, and the broken conversation of a movie on the lowest possible volume. It was Lord of the Rings, the last of the trilogy, at the part where Frodo had finally reached Mordor, and was having a spectacular struggle with Gollum about the Ring.

As epic as this scene was, no one was paying attention - not even the two that were seated right in front of the large screen, ignoring the brutal fight, finger-biting and all. Instead, Patrick Stump and Arantxa Taylor were engrossed in an intense conversation, one that involved quite an amount of laughing and, consequently, shushing.

"All they were missing in the script was the "I love you"," Taylor commented, pausing to catch her breath after a round of stifled giggles. "And then it would have probably been called Gaylord of the Rings."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Patrick chuckled, leaning back on the soft couch. "Kind of makes you wonder what they did when the camera was focused on Aragorn-"

"Ew, gross!" She broke out uncontrollably into another peal of laughter, which sucked him in - soon, they were at a loss for words, and slowly losing oxygen as their breaths dissolved into haha’s. Taylor punched his arm playfully, and shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe such an idea would spring up from this little angel’s mouth.

“What?” He asked defensively, rubbing the tender spot that she’d hit, pouting his lips. “What did I say?”

“That’s sick, dude.” She chastised, but in a gentle tone that couldn’t really be considered reprimanding. He grinned cheekily at her, and she choked down her own laughter once again.

It was at this moment that the natural disaster in the form of Brendon Urie plodded in from his siesta, rubbing his eyes for what his life was worth. Both of them looked up and greeted him, the ghost of their last giggle session still present on their lips.

“What’s so funny?” He wondered as they smiled on, his vision travelling from his fellow musician to the girl that ran through his mind constantly, and to the non-existent gap between the both of them, seated on the couch. A suspicion crawled slowly through his mind.

“We were talking about Sam and Frodo, and their obvious gayness.” Patrick explained, casting a glance at his companion, whose hands were on her mouth to keep herself from bursting out into another hilarious episode. “Care to join us?”

“Uh, no, but thanks anyway, that’s awful nice of you.” Brendon eyed both of them with an expression that could only mean that he assumed they’d lost a part of their minds. “Hey, Tay, come stay with me in the bunk.” He added, a portion of his springy attitude sparking up as he bounded to her, and fell, butt first, into her lap. He felt her body jerk in surprise and irritation, but chose to ignore it, only adjusted to make himself more comfortable.

“But, why?” He heard her say from behind him. “We’re not going to do anything fun.”

“Says who?” He demanded, turning his head so he could see a portion of her face – her features were set in a way that showed her lack of enthusiasm. Clearly, she was not amused. This bothered him, deep down inside.

WAY down inside.

“Says the fact that we never do.” She replied with an air of wariness.

“Not true.” He pouted his voluptuous lips at her. “We always have fun.”

“Says who?” She wondered tiredly, rolling her eyes.

“Says the fact that you can’t ever seem to take your eyes – or, come to think of it, your lips – off me.” He smirked in triumph, and a look of exasperation crossed her face.

“Can it, Bren.” She waved him away, miffed, and began to attempt to move him off her lap. Instead of taking this the right way, like he should have, Brendon leaned on her, and inserted his head into the crook of her neck. He heard her heavy sigh through her bones. “Can’t you see I’m talking to someone? Besides, weren’t you asleep like two seconds ago? You’ll hardly ever have missed me.”

“Oh, like I’m not worth spending time with anymore, then?” He inquired, genuinely offended.

“It’s not that, it’s just that you could respect the fact that I’m having a conversat-“

“Taylor, really, it’s okay.” Patrick piped in for the first time since Brendon had ceased to address him. “I’ll leave you two to it.”As much as it pained him to say that, he definitely did not want to be caught amidst some form of a lover’s quarrel which, he’d heard, could get quite ugly.

“No. You stay.” She commanded. Patrick obeyed, remaining rooted on the spot.

“Tay, please, come on, stay with me, I don’t want to be lonely.” Brendon reasoned, poking her stomach from behind. She did not burst out into laughter as he’d expected, or swat his hand away while giggling. She merely remained silent, staring angrily at the back of his head. “Besides, you know fiancés are supposed to spend all the time they have with each other…” He began, but she cut him off.

“Oh, God, Brendon, give it a rest.” She seethed, completely serious – the “fiancé” bit had crossed the line. With astonishing strength, she shoved him off her lap, and he stumbled forward. While regaining his composure, Taylor went on: “We’re not really getting married, so don’t pull that card on me, because it’s not going to work. And could you stop being so fucking immature all the time?”

“I’m not being immature, I’m just…”

“Don’t say it. You’re acting like a five year old, like I’m your mother or something. I want to date someone who will take care of me, not the other way around.”

“I just do it to cheer you up.” He answered, completely stung, and didn’t even try to conceal it. His eyes filled up with hurt that was rare to witness.

“Well, it doesn’t work.” She snapped. “If you think that all I want to do with my boyfriend is play pranks and make out, you’re sorely mistaken. Call me when you’ve grown the fuck up.”

In her fury, her tone and her words slashed through him more than it should have. The bloodless wound on his expression began to soften her, and a second after she played the words back in her head, she immediately regretted it. But she couldn’t bring herself to apologize - to follow it up with something more comforting and less harsh - and just lapsed into silence, her gaze fully on his face. The seconds ticked by with excruciating exactness. Brendon and Taylor stared, regretfully and remorsefully, confused and hurt.

Patrick’s attention flickered from girl to boy, feeling awkward by the second. As much as he said to himself he wouldn’t, he happened to catch all and more of the spat between the couple. He watched as Brendon straightened up, cleared his throat, and without another word, retreated back to his bunk. He watched as Taylor slowly leaned back, her flushed cheeks slowly paling again. He did not dare to say anything, but observed her silently.

“Shit, that was bad.” She said finally.

“Uh…” Patrick rubbed the back of his neck, unable to say much else.

“It’s just that sometimes,” She continued as if she had not heard his inarticulate response, “He gets really immature, and it’s so fucking annoying. It’s almost like I need to take him to daycare or something.”

“Maybe he just really likes you…” Patrick reasoned, in a tone that was laced lightly with bitterness. Maybe he shouldn’t, he thought to himself, but did not go much more than expressing his deepest sympathy to her by touching her shoulder lightly. It was like touching lightning, but more pleasant – it sent a little tingling feeling through his fingers, one that he would have very much liked to experience again.

“Yeah, I like him too, but it’s just really irritating, and it wears me out all the time.” She frowned deeply. “I can’t stand it sometimes, and I can’t help but kind of crack, you know?”

So dump him! Patrick wanted to yell, and follow it up with some all-out profession of love. But, being sensible, he did no such thing. Instead, he said, “Yeah, I know. I get you.”

“Sorry for pulling you into this.”

“It’s okay.” Another long pause grew, thick in the air, and Patrick realized his hand was still on her shoulder. Quickly, he pulled away, like he’d come in contact with a white-hot flame poker. She didn’t seem to notice, only stared at the very still bunk area, as if debating with herself. Finally, she stood up, and he was left staring up at her.

“I think I’ll go talk to him now,” Taylor announced, and began to stride towards the entrance to the bunk area – but she stopped, and turned around slowly. “Thank you, by the way.” She added, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Anytime.” He answered, a heavy hand pulling at his heartstrings.

She disappeared, crawling into the bunk to her left, and, drawing the curtain. A soft exchange of words could be heard, but he did not bother to listen. Instead, he grabbed the remote control and aimed it at the screen, pushing the volume up with deliberate force, to drown out the glum beating of his heart.

x

Saturday, 5:30 PM
Fall Out Boy & Panic! At the Disco tourbus.

By the will of fate, Andy Wentz stepped out of the bunk area and stretched, ready to greet the new evening with open arms.

Instead, she found herself greeted with the image of a dozing Patrick Stump, an arm over his eyes which were ignoring the climax of the movie Monsters Inc., his body contorted in a position seemingly unknown to any living man. Andy crawled to him, poking his arm, then his face, then his stomach lightly. Nothing happened.

“Pssst. Patrick!” She whispered into his ear, her breath tickling his short blonde hair. “Wake up!”

“Whazgoinon?” He blurted out, straightening up and rubbing his ear with some irritation. He let out a big yawn, then stared at Andy, who was looking at him expectantly. “What is it?”

She grinned widely. “Hi.”

“… Hello.”

“Why’d you go to sleep here?”

“I didn’t mean to.” He replied, frowning slightly. He looked around for a second, then, apparently missing what he wanted to see, let his face fall. “So what’s up?”

“Nothing, I woke up and nobody else was up, and then I saw you, so I woke you up, so we can hang out.” She concluded, smiling like that was the best agenda ever.

“Uh. Okay, great.” By his tone, it seemed as though he didn’t really see it as particularly “great”, or any of its synonyms. “Why don’t you hang out with Taylor?”

“Coz she’s asleep. Duh.” She answered, like the question insulted her intelligence.

“Well, why didn’t you wake her up?” He raised an eyebrow. “You woke me up.”

“Well, coz…” She frowned. “Okay, coz I know she and Bren totally fought, I heard it, it was so weird, and like kinda scary. So I don’t want to get on her bad side, even if they made up already. I’m just not taking my chances.”

“Nobody wants to get on anybody’s bad side –“

“Yeah, except Brendon does it without meaning to.” She interrupted. “Which is weird, coz he’s super awesome.”

“Has it happened before?” He inquired, confused – certainly he (and everyone else) would have heard if people had started arguing, for, truth be told, it wasn’t really the largest bus in the world.

“Well, no.” Andy admitted. “But she tells me about it. Like, when she’s really annoyed and can’t stand it.”

“Really? What does she say?” He pressed on, intrigued.

She shrugged her shoulders, then adjusted her petite frame on the couch. “Nothing. Like, how she just kind of wishes she had the heart to tell him to shut the fuck up, or grow up, or all the stuff she said a while ago.”

“Oh.” Was all he could utter, in his disappointment.

Then, as if by some miraculous revelation, Andy’s face lit up, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “I’ll tell you something, but don’t tell her I told you. Swear it.”

“Okay, uhm, I swear.” He vowed, puzzled at where this was all going.

Andy leaned in, excitement shining in her pretty eyes. Her lips barely moved, so much that it was difficult to decipher what she was muttering. “Don’t tell her I told you, but she told me that sometimes she wishes she were with you rather than him.”

Silence dropped like a bomb, and she leaned back, watching his expression as his brain processed this information. Finally, unable to stand the tension, she said, “Hey, DON’T tell her. You swore on it.”

“I know. I won’t.” He replied a while after, and turned what Andy had said over in his head. It settled into his consciousness, and sunk in, snuggling comfortably into his memory.

He smiled.

x.fin.x