Pictures on Silence

~Jesse~

We went back to the bus and van and drove over to the venue. Angie was right: there was nothing to do up there. So everyone sat around either in the dressing rooms or on stage.
I was talking to Spencer on one side of the stage when he pointed something out: Ryan sitting on the far side of the stage with his guitar and a piece of paper, and Angie about ten feet away from him sitting cross-legged next to the drum set and scribbling in her notebook.

"They're really alike," I mused. I gave Spencer an insinuating look, but he shook his head.

"Messy break-up," he explained. "He's still pretty torn up about it. They were off and on for a long time and then one day he found out she was cheating on him. He hasn't really been the same."

I nodded sympathetically. "That's rough." I looked over at Ryan again for a stretched moment before looking at Angie and lowering my voice. "She'd probably kill me for saying this, but it's the complete opposite with Pen."

"She dropped her last guy like a brick?" Spencer asked, like he couldn't believe she was capable of it. From the way he described it, I knew Angie wouldn't do that to anyone.

"God no."

He frowned, confused. I shook my head slightly. Spencer's eyebrows rose. "She's never--"

"Nope."

"Has she ever--"

"Nope."

"Wow." Spencer looked over at Angie, who nodded along to a tune in her head. "That's really surprising."

"Yeah, but don't let on you know," I requested. "She's kind of vulnerable and gets depressed sometimes." Spencer nodded and went to get something to drink.

I wandered over to Pen and she automatically turned over her work and looked up at me. "Whatcha workin' on?" I asked, sitting beside her.

She turned back to the lyrics and tapped them with her pen. "That song we did before we left," she answered, dissatisfied. "I liked what I wrote before, but now..." Her eyes darted over to Ryan, who had begun strumming some chords. Angie shrugged and leaned on her hand.
I gently took the notebook and read through the song. As with most of her work-- and most of her everything-- Ange completely underestimated herself. The premise appeared simple at first, but the details and intricacies made it almost unbelievably great. The first time I'd heard something she wrote, I was floored that someone who seemed so happy and well-adjusted could write with such darkness and passion.

"I think you should leave it the way it is." Both our heads jerked up at Ryan. He put his hands behind him and relaxed. "Whatever you're trying to say always comes out right the first time, and it isn't the same if you read it again and try to change it." A glint of something like fascination glinted in Angie's expression. Ryan shrugged. "Just my opinion." And then he went back to writing.

I turned to Penelope, but she still watched him with a subtle expression. After a while she shook something off and smiled at me. "Let's go get ready," she suggested.

A few minutes before we were going on, Angie was changing last second in the bathroom. I heard Angie cry, "Gah! This shirt doesn't close over my boobs!"

Matt scrambled up and opened the door for a look. A hand shot out and palmed him on the forehead, resulting in a loud SMACK. Rubbing his head, he turned and grinned. "Totally worth it," he declared, giving a thumbs up.

Penelope appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, glaring viciously with her shirt half-unbuttoned. She frowned downward and clenched her shirt in her fist. Cheeks bright red, she asked shyly, "Do any of you have an extra shirt?" All of us shook our heads. She kicked a chair and pulled on Matt's hoodie. "Be right back." And then she rushed out of the room.

The three of us stood around looking at each other for about a minute until the door opened again. Angie slipped in wearing a black and white striped sweater. She grinned secretively and tossed her clothes onto a chair. "Okie dokie. Showtime, boys!"

We played a few songs to get the crowd pumped up and then a soft one to break a few hearts. A lot of girls made weird girly noises at us and tried to get our attention. I waved at a group, and they giggled. Retuning my guitar, I rolled my eyes.

"Penelope, love," Sean said, during one of the song breaks, "I wonder where you got that jumper."

Pen grinned over at him. "Oh, don't worry. You'll find out soon enough. But in the mean time, let's play these nice people some music, eh?"

"So where did you get that sweater?" Matt asked as we came offstage. Angie grinned as we approached Panic! on their way to the stage. We all greeted each other and Brendon complimented Angie, "Nice sweater."

Her grin widened. "Thanks, Bren," she said, sweetly. While she kept walking, the rest of us looked at each other in confusion. Oh well, I thought with a shrug, Probably just another inside jokes.

~Angie~

"I'm bored!" Matt complained; we all sat in our dressing room, which provided considerably more space than our last dressing room.

"So find something to do," Sean advised, distracted by the guitar magazine at which he and Jesse were looking. "Something quiet preferably."

From the corner of my eye I saw him look at me, so I directed, "Don't even think about it." He slumped into the couch and, after a moment, situated himself to sleep with my leg as a pillow. I ran a hand through his hair and went back to my occupancy.

As one may have inferred, Matt and I maintained a rather peculiar relationship. On the one hand, he made lots of sexual innuendos and hit on me and I basically reacted like a tomboy-- someone says something stupid, you hit them-- whilst on the other hand, he always told me honestly that I looked gorgeous and gave me hugs and I was always there to listen to him. How this came to pass I don't exactly remember.

We met up with Jon, Spencer, Ryan and their bodyguard just outside the backstage doors, but Brendon was nowhere to be seen.

"He said he couldn't find his clothes," Spencer said. "Which is weird because no one got backstage."

I shoved down my smirk, but it resurfaced when the aforementioned Mister Urie came stomping towards us. He ignored everyone else and came right up to me. "You stole my sweater!" he exclaimed. I bit my lip to keep from laughing his face.

Did I mention he was shirtless?

Because he was.

"Yeah?" I inquired like I didn't know it. "So?" Brendon pouted and tugged on my-- er, his-- sweater arm. "Fine, fine, but only because you'll get torn to pieces if you go out there like that." So I pulled his sweater over my head, handed it back to him, and tugged down my tank top. The majority of my company's eyes were wide. I shook my head and pushed the door open. "Boys."

Back at the bus, it came to realisation that none of us was tired. So, we brought over the other three and all eight of us sat in relatively a circle with about two dozen cans of Red Bull.

"So everyone know how this works?" Spencer asked, opening cans and passing them around. "Someone says, 'Never have I ever' and then something they've never done and whoever has takes a shot, but since we don't drink and Red Bull messes you up in a different way, the loser will be up until Friday."

"I'll go first," Ryan offered. "I've never been to Europe before." Sean, Matt, Jesse, and Jon all took a shot.

Beside him, Jesse declared, "I've never met a household name before." Matt, Spencer, Brendon, Jon, and Ryan took shots.

"I've never stolen Brendon Urie's clothes," Matt laughed. I mock-glared at him and downed a mouthful from the can, as did all of our headlining band members. I stuck out my tongue and I looked into the depths of the can. This stuff tastes like shit, I thought in disgust.

The game continued pretty innocently for a while, interspersed with random comments and laughter. As everyone got more hyped up, the confessions got more interesting.

"I've never thrown someone through a window," Spencer said, bouncing up and down. Apparently, Sean and Jon had, though.

"I've never walked in on someone in the shower," Sean said. Everyone else tossed back the foul-tasting concoction.

"I've never been on tour before," I said cleverly. They all complained before and after taking shots.

"Man, I'm wired," Jon observed. "Um... I've never... I dunno, kissed a guy." I lowered my eyes to everyone's shoes in the middle as Ryan, Brendon, Jesse, and Matt swigged from their cans. I rattled the small amount of liquid in mine-- still my first-- and wished none of them could see me.

"Okay, I've never--" Ryan started, but Brendon cut him off.

"Wait, Angie didn't take her shot." I bit the inside of my lip and put on a credible smile for him. His eyebrows rose. "You can't be serious." I shrugged a shoulder in nonchalance.

"Wait, really?" Matt asked. I shook my head. "Well, there's something I didn't know."

I came up with a joke to make things less awkward for myself. "That's why I didn't drink along with Ryan when Sean said he'd never had sex in a car." They chuckled, and I decided I was in the clear. A yawn cracked my jaw. "How about we tie this up? I want to go to sleep."

"You can go ahead," Brendon answered, "Since you're pretty much the only one who probably can." I smiled and bid them all goodnight.

In my bunk, I lay curled up on my side with my eyes open for a while, listening to their muted voices with a tiny frown, before shutting my eyes and willing myself to sleep.