Do You Know What It Feels Like?

6:47 PM, Saturday.

Fall Out Boy & Panic! at the Disco Tour Bus, still on the never - ending, ever - winding road.

No one is ever sure when they receive great revelations. Many people discover things, things that have never crossed their minds, at the most unlikely of situations. Take Andrea Louise Wentz, for instance. A few hours ago, she had been sleeping quietly on the couch, facing cartoon show reruns on the tiny set. She had been awoken rudely to a great show of vandalism, courtesy of her untiringly mischievous, grudge-bearing brother, Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. The time prior to the present, she had spent rubbing her face raw, in an attempt to rid her pretty little face of the permanent marker, and, more importantly, what it spelled.

Coming to current times, Andy Wentz is now proud to proclaim that she has made an excellent realization; one that she believed was undeniable, and worthy of a scientifically proven truth.

"I hate my brother."

Her statement couldn't really be considered bias. After all, we were speaking sibling rivalry - official Wentz household business. The way of the universe was unchangeable. Pete and Andy were made to be brother and sister. Therefore, they were made to share all sorts of feelings of love and loathe (on a higher level for the latter) towards each other.

But only children just didn't get it.

"Don't you think that's unfair?" Taylor asked her, wringing a towelette soaked in rubbing alcohol. "This is not going to come off." She added in a sort of murmur, running the towel across her best friend's face as gently as she could without damaging her now red, sensitive skin.

"Unfair? You want me to tell you what's unfair? Ow," She rubbed her eye as droplets of alcohol entered it. Taylor muttered an almost incoherent apology. Andy continued the rant she knew was bubbling inside of her. "What's unfair, Taylor, is the fact that God gave me the biggest idiot in the world to be my brother. No one does things like this, okay?" She pointed unhappily to her face. "He's a new kind of human. The kind that's programmed to do the most horrible things. He is pure, genuine evil. He's devil's spawn. He's... He's..."

"Actually kind of nice, when it all comes down to it." Taylor mused.

"Don't talk to me if you're not going to side with me." Andy grumbled, squirming her face out of her friend's grip. Taylor looked nothing less than amused.

"You're just pissed because he got back at you. At least he hasn't thrown us out to hike the miles back home."

"Being around the insufferable prick right now is worse than that. He's never going to stop punishing me. And why would he take revenge? I haven't done anything wrong." Andy sniffed in indignation.

"You snuck onto the tour bus he pretty much forbade you to even imagine." Taylor corrected her. Andy crossed her arms and glared holes into the other girl's face.

"You're the one who came up with the stupid plan. You're here too. But you don't have permanent marker all over your face. I had to suffer, and if the world were fair, you would have, too."

"Nobody asked you to run around the tour bus in a wild frenzy to chase your brother. You could have avoided being seen, and therefore, prevented further humiliation for yourself."

As much as her pride would not let her, a small part of Andy knew that Taylor's point won the conversation. Had she not chased Pete all around the tiny bus, she wouldn't have been laughed at, nor stared at. And was it coincidence that her jerk of a brother had ordered his short little legs to carry him to the Panic! bunks? She didn't think so.

My God, she seethed to herself. That little man is seriously going to get it. Just he wait.

She realized though, that another point had not been clarified.

"That still doesn't explain why I got "I suck balls" fucking written all over my forehead, while yours is squeaky clean." Andy huffed, still irked.

Taylor did not answer. She merely wrung out the towelette, placed it in the basin, and mumbled, "I can't do much more than that. Otherwise your skin will be ripped off for good."

"Serves you right." Said a mocking voice from the door.

"Pete," Andy rolled her eyes, exasperated. "You could at least have some brains to just leave me the fuck alone when I'm mad at you."

"You have no right to be mad at me. I call it even." Pete retorted, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie. "You piss me off, I piss you off. That's the circle of life, woman."

"How about you circle your butt around and leave?"

"Fine, be a grump." Fall Out Boy's bassist shrugged nonchalantly and whistled while taking his leisurely time walking back to his respective sleeping area.

"I told you he wasn't so bad." Taylor remarked after he was out of earshot.

"What in the world possessed you to say that?" Andy demanded, furious.

"He had a watergun, but decided against using it. That must prove something, right?"

"No." Andy replied flatly. "It just proves he's more of an ass than I'd ever actually thought he was. Thanks for telling me."

"No problem."

x

2:38 AM, Sunday.

On the floor of the Fall Out Boy & Panic! at the Disco tourbus, which seems to be forever on the road.

"Tay, I can't sleep."

Andy sat up on the couch, peering around in the dark. Soft snoring could be heard from the other bunk areas. She nudged Taylor's sleeping form with her foot, who, in turn, grumbled and smacked it away.

"Tay. I can't sleep. Wake up." Andy urged her, rubbing her eye. After a few seconds of careful deliberation, Taylor turned around, an irritated expression still evident in the gloom of the bus.

"This had better be good or you'll never see tomorrow."

"I can't sleep." Andy repeated. A moment of silence passed as the girl on the floor stared up at her with a look of pure exasperation.

"Count sheep." Taylor suggested in an annoyed fashion, turning over and willing herself to sleep again.

A time of peace ensued, and she had almost drifted away when a sharp jab brought her back from her semi-conscious state.

"I hate sheep."

Taylor rolled her eyes, turned her head and glared one of the most realistically angered glares she had ever given her best friend.

"Andy. Go to sleep. Please. Just try. Close your eyes and, for God's sake, stop planning ways to kill Pete."

"I can't!" She whined, shifting her weight on the couch. "He always makes me so angry. And everytime I'm almost asleep, he pops up into my head, and he's laughing at me, and I just wake up again and want to get back at him."

"But then he's going to get back at you, and you're going to do it again, and he's going to do something else, and you're going to have to get revenge again. It never ends with you people!" Taylor sat up, now fully awake, but still in a state of annoyance. "It's like some sort of cycle. God forbid you guys are still going to be chasing each other around in your coffins."

"It's not that bad for you, he never does anything bad to you. And you're an only child. You don't have any idea how it is to have brother. Much less, a brother like him." She spat the last pronoun out in disgust.

"That's true, I don't." Taylor admitted. "But it's not as if it's impossible for you to just let it go."

"Actually -"

The door opened, and both girls started. A short, lazy figure stood by the doorway.

"Do you guys ever sleep?"

"Patrick, you've just figured out our secret." Andy joked.

"Actually, only one of us is nocturnal." Taylor hissed, lying back down and wrapping her makeshift blankets around her.

"Sorry we woke you up." Andy apologized.

"It's okay." Patrick mumbled, leaning on the door frame. "What's eating you?"

"Nothing. Can't sleep."

"Count sheep."

"That's what I said." Taylor put in, her voice muffled by the cloth around her face.

Andy ignored the last jibe. "So what's eating you?"

"Nothing." Patrick replied. "Can't sleep either."

"That's rough, man." Andy shook her head. Patrick laughed quietly, avoiding a reprimand from another on the bus. "You should get some sleep," She added. "Show tomorrow. Don't want you fainting through the first set."

"True. You guys watching?" He asked. Andy rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "No?"

"Pete won't let us go. He thinks we'll ruin everything."

"Correction," Taylor looked up at her. "He thinks you're going to ruin everything."

"Shut up." Andy shot back, pouting masterfully at her friend.

"Hey, what if I let you guys in?" Patrick suggested, cutting the blooming argument on Taylor's tongue.

"You think you could do that?" Andy queried skeptically.

"Sure," He shrugged, like it was no big deal. "I'm Patrick, right? I'm special, I do... Something sort of important in Fall Out Boy, I think." He turned to head back to dreamland. "See you two at the show tomorrow."

x

10:51 PM, Sunday.

Backstage of Chicago Theater, Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco Meet and Greet.

Andrea Louise Wentz considers herself a pure and epic genius. The following occurrence will prove her ingenuity and absolute awesomeness.

So she believes.

A genius' attire, in this case, requires stealth and inconspicuousness. One must, at all costs, blend in with the crowd. This particular virtuoso and her accomplice had effectively mastered the art of camouflage, donning large shades, a fanatic, "FALL OUT BOY" tee, jeans and chucks.

Not one could pick them out. They were one with the crowd.

But the attire was not the plan, not the true show of talent. The actions that would follow would be the true display of superability.

"Watch the master." Andy instructed Taylor smugly, as the line between the table and the two shortened. Taylor's face was stoic, but Andy knew, deep down inside, she was just rolling around with laughter.

Andy, upon reaching the edge of the table, put her plan to action. She sped past Patrick, Andy and Joe, pulling the crowd into a disarray as she bumped various fans to push her way to an astounded, processing Pete Wentz.

A moment of confusion passed, and Andy Wentz, disguise and all, lunged herself at the unsuspecting bassist.

"OH MY GOD, Pete fucking Wentz!" Andy bawled, locking Pete's head in a crushing hug. "I can't believe it's you!"

"Wha-?" Pete stepped back, bumping into a tarpaulin with Fall Out Boy's faces printed hugely on it.

"I can't believe it! I can't believe I'm seeing you!" She cried, feigning an oncoming asthma attack.

Onlookers looked on. The mastermind disguised as a rabid fan caused a halt in the progression of the meet and greet. Both bands stared at the semi-insane girl clinging onto Pete's neck.

"God, our fans here are out of control." Taylor heard Andy mutter to Joe, who nodded in quiet agreement. She smiled, watching her talented friend carry out her plot for revenge.

"Oh, my God, it's been so long!" Pete Wentz' face grew steadily whiter as his blood circulation slowed and nearly came to a halt.

"Wha- Who the - who are you? Someone - Can we get some security over here, please?" He begged, struggling to break free.

A big, black bulk that was supposedly human (theoretically, though, a mass of cybertechnology made to protect tiny celebrities like Pete Wentz) appeared and pulled the genius off of a slowly choking bassist.

Phase two had started.

"What?! Get off me! Pete! How could you do this to me?" She screamed, accompanying her show of anger by kicking the air between her and the table.

"I'm sorry, maybe you need some air, or..." Pete stuttered, contemplating the existence of the number of slightly off-center fans.

"How could you not remember me?!" We used to take our baths together! So much for friendship!" She rambled on, trying to point an accusing finger at him.

"What?"

"You heard me! You insensitive, idiotic jerk! You suck balls!"

"... ANDY?"

"Hey, Petey."

No expression of anger could have full defined the fury of Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III at that very moment.

"You are insufferable! What the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay in the bus? You never listen to me! You're such a pain in the ass!"

Andy frowned, her face crumpling, as everyone watched in some horrified interest. Tears began to leak out of her eyes.

"My brother doesn't love me! He doesn't care for me!" She cried, to Pete's dismay.

"That's not true!" Pete insisted, reddening as the crowd looked on. He reached out to her, but she slapped his hand away. Irked, he leaned down, hissing into her ear, "You're making yourself look like a bipolar mental case."

She looked up at him. "At least no one knows I'm horrible to my siblings. Besides, I don't get publicity." She stood up quickly, sprinting over to Taylor. Grabbing her best friend's wrist, they ran out, the mastermind's voice ringing as they exited the chaos they had made.

"Now we're even!"

x

These are the facts:

Fact: Andy Wentz is now GUFN (grounded until further notice).
Fact: Arantxa Taylor is, in fact, not grounded. Sidefact is, Andy was right - Taylor never gets punished.
Fact: Pete Wentz is now being questioned by the press about his "crazy fan incident".
Fact: The rest of Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco found it hilarious.
Fact: Ryan Ross believes the plan of action was absolute genius.
Fact: Andy Wentz is in agreement.
Fact: The fight is still not over.

x.fin.x