Status: going to try to write a little every week, but i may forget...
Strange Days at Decaydance Records or How Pete Wentz Adopted Me, Figuratively Speaking
The Recording Studio
So we got to the recording studio, and Pete runs out of his car and through the doors. This insinuates a chase, and I still have no clue what the friggin-panty whackers is going on. Add this to the frustration of not knowing the layout of the building I have just entered and there's a major problem at hand.
However, as we enter the building Spencer keeps going on, running after Pete, and Brendon slows down. He smiles at me, and since I am too freaked out to even blush at his georgousness. “Hello, and welcome to Decaydance Records studios. Since your hospitality has apparently been tripping on acid or something, I shall give you a tour. My name is Brendon Urie.”
I grinned at his lightheartedness, and the fact that I wouldn't be left alone in a building I could easily get lost in. We started walking casually, Brendon showing me a thing or two on the way.
“This is our elevator,” Brendon said, presenting It as we walked up to it. “I would say it's a magical beast, but nobody would believe me, because it isn't.” I smirked, and looked at him as he turned his head to look at me. He simply shrugged, then pressed the up button. When the elevator opened we got into it and the door closed.
Brendon stood against a wall as we went up to the sixth floor. “So, don't be freaked out, but I think I know what Pete's problem is...”
“Why would I be freaked out,” I asked, crossing my arms and putting my hands on my hips.“Does he have leprosy?”
He shook his head. “No, he wants to sign you.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Why on earth would he want to sign me? I mean, I know I can sing, but so can virtually anybody who can copy a note.”
“Your voice has a different.... something to it, though,” Brendon said, “It's actual pretty awesome. Then on top of that you have stage presence, if that little show at Pete's house was a sampling.” Brendon shrugged, “So he might get you to record for a little while.”
“That's.... really, really weird,” I shrugged, “But I can't help it, I love to sing.”
Then the door opened and he lead me into one of the recording studios. Pete and Spencer were in there.
“Sorry for running off on you, but would you mind recording a couple of songs?” Pete asked, his expression that of pleading.
I was slightly unused to the attention, but I agreed. “Sure, I won't mind. So what should I sing?”
“Just give me Mona Lisa first, then we'll think up a few more that you can do.”
I nodded. “Ok, that sounds cool.” Pete then gave me a run over of the equipment and told me what to do with it, and I began singing.
However, as we enter the building Spencer keeps going on, running after Pete, and Brendon slows down. He smiles at me, and since I am too freaked out to even blush at his georgousness. “Hello, and welcome to Decaydance Records studios. Since your hospitality has apparently been tripping on acid or something, I shall give you a tour. My name is Brendon Urie.”
I grinned at his lightheartedness, and the fact that I wouldn't be left alone in a building I could easily get lost in. We started walking casually, Brendon showing me a thing or two on the way.
“This is our elevator,” Brendon said, presenting It as we walked up to it. “I would say it's a magical beast, but nobody would believe me, because it isn't.” I smirked, and looked at him as he turned his head to look at me. He simply shrugged, then pressed the up button. When the elevator opened we got into it and the door closed.
Brendon stood against a wall as we went up to the sixth floor. “So, don't be freaked out, but I think I know what Pete's problem is...”
“Why would I be freaked out,” I asked, crossing my arms and putting my hands on my hips.“Does he have leprosy?”
He shook his head. “No, he wants to sign you.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Why on earth would he want to sign me? I mean, I know I can sing, but so can virtually anybody who can copy a note.”
“Your voice has a different.... something to it, though,” Brendon said, “It's actual pretty awesome. Then on top of that you have stage presence, if that little show at Pete's house was a sampling.” Brendon shrugged, “So he might get you to record for a little while.”
“That's.... really, really weird,” I shrugged, “But I can't help it, I love to sing.”
Then the door opened and he lead me into one of the recording studios. Pete and Spencer were in there.
“Sorry for running off on you, but would you mind recording a couple of songs?” Pete asked, his expression that of pleading.
I was slightly unused to the attention, but I agreed. “Sure, I won't mind. So what should I sing?”
“Just give me Mona Lisa first, then we'll think up a few more that you can do.”
I nodded. “Ok, that sounds cool.” Pete then gave me a run over of the equipment and told me what to do with it, and I began singing.
♠ ♠ ♠
So, I'd really like some comments. I'm not much of a comment whore, but I at least want to know how well this story is going. And I'm serious about the reader input. I have no real plotline for this story, so if there is some great idea you have and I like it, I will put it into the story and give you credit for the idea.