You're a Regular Decorated Emergency

"Are you interested in performing shows for childrens birthday parties?" Ryan asked quizzicaly, staring at me from over the top of his newspaper.

"Uh, no?" I laughed, raising my eyebrows. Ryan just shrugged and went back to the paper.

Me, Ryan, and Brendon were busy trying to come up with options to get money for me, and fast. I actually had my eye on being a makeup artist, or maybe something along the lines of directing.

"I still dont see why you cant just take some money!" Brendon sighed, frustrated.
"It would just be so much eaiser, we give you the money, you take it, your set for the rest of the year and dont need to rush to find a job."

"I already told you, I'm not taking your money!" I growled, annoyed. They had been practically throwing money into my lap all afternoon. I couldnt just take their money, I wasnt like that.

"Okay so lets go over this," Ryan said, pulling out a piece of paper. Me and Brendon both set down our newspapers and leaned forward.

"Option one," Ryan started. "Makeup artist? Option two, childrens shows. And Option three, take our money and leave us the fuck alone!"

I rolled my eyes and got up, walking into the kitchen. Brendon followed after me, pleading to take his money. I ignored him to the best of my ability, taking a Pepsi can from the fridge and drinking half of it in one gulp.

"Take the fucking money already!" Brendon whined, slamming his head onto the counter.

"Please, please dont become a stupid makeup girl!" Ryan joined in.

I narrowed my eyes at the both of them and shook my head. They both groaned.
Instead of caving in to them like I so desperatly wanted to, I returned to the pile of newspapers and began to search again.

Yes, there were jobs avalible and yes, I could easily become a temporary childrens party performer, but what I really wanted was to start a new career. Something worthwhile and fun, something to be proud of. I thought being a makeup artist was pretty cool, or at least it was in my standards.

My eyes scanned the columns, the ink slightly smudged from my touch. There were a lot of clerk jobs, cashier oppurtunities, blah blah blah.

Brendon ran into the room, brandishing a Red Bull.

"Lexie Lexie!" he squealed. I winced at the name. He was the only person to ever call me that in my entire life, and it made my head spin with pleasure. I didnt dare look up in fear of meeting his big brown eyes.

"I know what you can do! And you can start right now!"he was now jumping with excitment. Kicking myself, I relized I hadnt emptied the fridge of Red Bulls so he would be hyper for a good four more hours.

"Bren spit it out already!"

"You can be an assistant-thing for Panic at the Disco! And then when we need make up, you can put it on us, so you can be a makeup girl-thing too! Dont worry, we'll pay you real good!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped. I couldnt deny it, it sounded like a great idea. I bit my lip, trying to find a loophole as to why I couldnt work for them. I really didnt want their money.

Taking my silence as a yes, Brendon whooped and high-fived Ryan, pulling me into a hug. I laughed, feeling bouyant and light.
I had a job.
Well, sort of, anyway.

We spent the rest of the afternoon discussing hours and what not, and fighting when it came to wages. Brendon insisted on paying me enough money to buy half a car for just one day. I refused vehemently, agreeing on an hourly wage.

Ryan seemed just as excited, calling Jon and Spencer to tell them the good news.

"Okay, so you can start tonight, we're having band practice." Brendon yawned. The Red Bull was wearing off, but thanks to my scheming, Ryan and I had thrown away the rest of the cans. I smiled excitdly, leaving to get changed.

When I told Izzie the good news, she seemed skeptical.

"I dont know, there your friends, you know that you wont take the money in the end."

"No," I replied bitterly, "Brendon's putting the money directly into the bank so I cant refuse it."

This seemed to lighten her mood, but she still looked wary. I bounced to my room, wondering how an assistant to Panic at the Disco would dress. In the end I decided with black jeans, a white tank top, and black boots.

Getting ready and looking the part was one thing, but actually finding Spencers place was another. It was probably because we had only hung out there a very long time ago that I couldnt find my way. Cursing under my breath, I turned around in the dark street for the fourth time. I was positive he lived on this street, but couldnt remember which house.

Frustrated, I pulled out my cellphone and dialed Brendon's, not even having to look at it.

"Heyoooo." he sang.

"Where the fuck does Spencer live!"

I could make out laughter in the background. "Look to your right. We've been watchinig you turn around like five times already!"

I did turn, and sure enough, there was Brendon, Ryan, Spencer, and Jon waving at me from inside a handsome brick house. I hung up on him and pulled over, getting out and slamming the door.

As soon as I stepped over the threshold, I was attacked. Something large and warm caught me around my middle, sending me flying back down the stoop.
With an 'Oof!' I landed on the grass, the black mass pinning me down. It writhed and squirmed, starting to tickle my stomach.

"Get off!" I giggled. It wasnt my fault I was extremly ticklish.

I elbow them in the rib, giving myself enough time to scramble up. I wobbled on my high-heels, taking off in a run towards the door, laughing triumphently.
The heel of my boot caught in a small crevice in the walkway, holding it in place. I fell forward, arms stretched outward to break my fall. My foot slipped out of the boot, and I hit the pavement.

"Oh no, Lexie fell again!" my attacker cooed, picking me up.

I flipped him the bird, trying simultaneously to haul my boot out of the ground and hide the blooming red spots on my cheeks. My boot came out quite eaisly with a slight popping noise. I turned on my shoe-less heel and limped to the front door.

Brendon followed me inside, still cracking up.

"Oh, would you shut up already!"I snapped. He laughed again, holding out his hands indefense.I rolled my eyes and sat myself on the couch. Spencer had left the room and I could hear him laughing from inside the kitchen. Ryan and Jon were both holding in their laughter.

I rolled my eyes at them all, still blushing. I couldnt just go without falling for one day. This was the last time I wore heels anywhere.

"So, what would you like me to do as your assistant?" I asked formaly, trying to turn their attention from my fall. It worked.

"Well, tonight your job is too listen to us practice, give advice, and do whatever we ask you too." Jon stated picking up his guitar. I nodded, easy enough.

Some practice this was. Brendon was experimenting with how high he could get his voice, Spencer was spitballing Jon, who was deflecting them with a notebook. Ryan was humming to himself while strumming the guitar, occasianly writing down lyrics as he came up with them.

"Uh guys?" I asked. They all turned to look at me, and from the looks on their faces they werent used to being interuppted during practice.

"Dont you think you should actually be practicing together, as in playing songs and writing lyrics?" I asked.

They all stared at me, bewildered. Brendon glanced at Jon and then nodded.

"Yeah, I guess we should." he replied, getting up off the loungechair.

The rest of the practice went a little more smoothly, under my guidence. How these boys had done anything befoe this baffled me.
I sat back, watching them play with a smile on my face, glancing (more than necessary) at Brendon when no one was looking.