Do You Know What It Feels Like?

11:57 PM, Friday.

Wentz living room.

"Please, please, Pete?"

"Andy. I told you, for the millionth time, no fucking way."

It had been a month and a half since Panic! at the Disco had gotten signed, made their record and became an instant hit on the charts. The day after this conversation occurred (which would be, in fact, three minutes after), they would be touring as an opening act for Fall Out Boy all over America. It was the opportunity of a lifetime - for Andy Wentz, at least.

"But why not? Come on, Pete. Please? Please?" she begged, almost on her knees - and she would have gotten down on them, had it not been for the fact that pillows and various bags of junk food and candy and cans of root beer were strewn all over the previously immaculate floor. Andy Wentz would never, in her natural life, say that one was too old for sleepovers. To prove this, she and Taylor had one almost every Friday. Today was no different - Taylor would be sitting beside her, and they would lounge on the couch until the crack of dawn, or until they passed out from their sugar rushes and giggles.

Pete had long since outgrown things like these. He believed that he was too mature for such childish activities, and often became irked when circumstances involving such banter would present itself to him. Take, for example, coming home from a hard day's work rocking out, only to find the house he had left more or less in shape completely raided of a week's supply of chips and sodas. If he could, he would sometimes salvage a beer or two, but more often than not, only released his irritation at the source of it.

"Andy, for God's sake, I am not fucking taking you cross country with me, okay? You're too much of a pain in the ass for that." He shrugged off his hoodie, tossing it over to his sister, who caught it, much to her disgust. "Put that in the wash for me, will you?"

"Not until you let me go with you," she sang, hopping over the mess on the floor to stand indignantly in front of him.

"For the billionth time, no,."

"You were only in a million two 'no's ago." She pouted.

"And it's not going to change, so get over it. And clean up that mess you made. And don't stay up all night giggling - God forbid I never get any sleep with you two around. And put the hoodie in the wash."

Taylor put the television's audio on mute, and twisted herself around to face the siblings. "Please, let us go? We promise we won't mess anything up. And we promise to not bug you and behave when you're doing your work. Oh, and we'll help you do your hair."

Pete hesitated.

"Well, I'm not making any promises." Andy mumbled under her breath. That did pretty much it.

"Well, I was actually strongly considering saying yes, but if you put it that way, the answer is still no. Clean up, and put that in the wash." With that, Pete Wentz went up to bed a more or less happy man.

"Sorry." Andy plopped down on the couch, punching her Spongebob pillow square in its toothy face in fury. "My brother's such an ass."

Taylor was staring up into space, her eyes glazed and unfocused.

"Tay. I said I was sorry. Seriously. But it's not as if there was a huge chance of him saying yes, anyway, you should know that -"

"Do you think we could ask other people to help us sneak in?"

Andy blinked at her, shock evident on her pretty face. "Help? Sneak in?"

"Yeah, to go into the bus. Do you think anyone would help us?" Taylor mused, coming back down to earth to stare at Andy questioningly.

"Why, who did you have in mind? Patrick?" Andy giggled. Not that Patrick could help them - he was a pretty bad liar, when it came down to everything. Taylor rolled her eyes and popped open a soda, taking a sip before saying anything.

"I was thinking more along the lines of, oh, I don't know, Ryan, Brendon, Spencer, Jon... Any of those names ring a bell?"

Just one, Andy joked silently in her head. Three guesses on who that was. Instead of saying this, she merely laughed. "Oh right. Why didn't I think of that?"

A small silence ensued as they rummaged around their trash for their phones.

"Who are we going to call?" Taylor asked, extracting Andy's cell from under a cheetos bag.

"I don't know," Andy frowned. "You were the one with the plan, genius."

"You could at least contribute something." Taylor insisted, flipping the phone open and scrolling through the contacts.

"You're using my phone, my money, that's contribution enough." Andy defended loudly, crossing her arms in indignation.

"Shut the fuck up down there, will you, Andy?" Pete called from inside his room. Andy ignored her equally loud-mouthed brother. She turned back to Taylor, who had her ear pressed to Andy's phone, and was talking in a low voice.

"Hey, Brendon? It's Taylor. I know it's the middle of the night and you want to get some rest, but would you mind doing Andy and me a huge favor?"

x

6:19 AM, Saturday.

Driveway of Wentz residence.

"Fuck, I left my goddamn iPod at home!"

In Pete's honest opinion, that would have been the ugliest thing that he had heard come out of Brendon Urie's mouth.

Ryan Ross, though, believed it wasn't much of an issue. "It's okay, Brendon, we can use mine. Okay? Load your bags into the car."

"But, Ryan -" Brendon protested, as everyone began piling their things into the bus' luggage area. "You songs are boring. I want mine." He whined.

"My songs are not boring." Ryan whirled around in some defense.

"Okay, we'll go back, okay? It's way too fucking early to argue." Pete beckoned for Brendon to sit in the passenger's seat, and drove off as soon as the door had been closed.

Everything had worked out perfectly.

Andy Wentz sped over to the tour bus, Taylor at her heels. Passing a confused Spencer, they shoved their belongings into the cavity meant for their bags, and climbed into the bus. Laughing silently, they entered the bunks area, where two members of Fall Out Boy were claiming their sleeping areas, them being Patrick and Joe.

"Pete decided to let you guys come along, huh?" Patrick chuckled.

"Not exactly." Andy admitted. Joe raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" He peered down from his top bunk.

"We snuck in. Brendon helped us." Andy explained. "So that, you know. There was less of a chance we were going to get caught."

"Well, I think those chances just got bigger," Taylor announced, looking out the window. Pete's car was back in the driveway, and he and Brendon were stepping out of it.

"It was in my pocket the whole time!" Brendon announced loudly.

"Shit, hide!"

Taylor dove into the nearest bunk, that being Patrick's. "Sorry, I'll make it up to you, I swear!" She whispered, pulling the curtains to shield herself. How she would do that was a mystery to both parties.

"Where do I stay, where do I stay?" Andy panicked, looking around.

"You can always use a Panic! bunk. They're more or less empty right now." Joe suggested. Andy, being the intelligent girl she was, followed his advice, stumbling into the closest bunk to the door that adjoined both sections.

Many tense breaths later, Andy heard footsteps approaching her. She sucked in the air, waiting for the bomb to land as the bunk curtains were pulled back.

"What - Andy, what are you doing in my bunk?"

Of all the bunks she had to hide in, it had to be Ryan Ross'.

"Shhh! I'm sneaking in. Please don't rat me out." She pleaded, curling up on the cushion, as if the act would somehow make her invisible.

"Okay, but I want my bunk back after you guys get busted." He joked, pulling the curtain back on her.

Andy let out the air as a sigh of pure relief.

x

7: 32 AM, Saturday.

Fall Out Boy - Panic! at the Disco tourbus, on the road.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?!"

We'll give you three guesses.

x.fin.x