Pictures on Silence

~Brendon~

"Told you this was a bad idea," Ryan said, staring out the window at all the people. "We're going to get mobbed."

"Which is why were going incognito," Pete finished, pulling on one of Patrick's infamous hats.

"But just in case someone sees through your brilliant plan," Jon said sarcastically, "I brought a pocket full of Sharpies."

"Good call." I pulled my hood over my head and adjusted my pants, which were about two sizes too big. For the most part, we looked pretty much the same, but I guess if all those people didn't know we were there, we'd be cool.

The five of us stood in line, got bottles of water from the bar, and got spots dead centre near the front. From there, we could see the stage and everything on it over the heads of the kids in front of us.

"Hope you're right about these guys," Spencer said, crossing his arms idly. "Penny Dreadful or whoever they are."

"But even if they suck, they still have a cool name," I supposed, taking a swig of water. "I'd buy one of those t-shirts."

The first band started, getting polite applause, and their first songs lacked in quality. The singer couldn't sing or play guitar, the bassist was out of time, and the lyrics made no sense at all.

"This sucks," Ryan announced, not caring if the two screaming girls behind us heard. "I'm going to the bathroom."

"Me too," I joined in. So we snaked through the crowd and went downstairs into the bathroom. "At least you can't hear them from in here."

Ryan laughed, leaning against the concrete wall. "That's true. The crowds going to love the next band in comparison, even if they're not as fantastic as Pete says."

So we basically hung out in the bathroom for the rest of the song and the next, which admittedly was kind of weird, looking at it from an outsiders point of view. Ryan jokingly complained, as we came out, about how his ears were bleeding again, and when we turned the corner into the hall, a voice sounded.

"Well, well, well. Evening, strangers. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were following me."

I grinned at the familiar redhead, now in a brown Thursday shirt, black blazer, flared jeans, and still retaining the same worn-in Converse. "You sure it isn't the other way around?"

"Psh, who'd want to stalk you two?" she scoffed, looking completely seriously until she smiled; she smiled a lot, which was good because she had a nice smile. "Purely coincidence, I assure you. I've been planning this for a month."

"Hope you're not here to see these guys," Ryan said, jabbing a thumb at a wall-speaker.

Angie-- I was pretty sure she'd said her name was Angie-- took on an offended expression. "How dare you assume so low of my taste, Mister Ross. See if I build a memorial to you any time soon." Ryan and I laughed, though I wondered if she'd do it. Angie didn't seem like the insane fangirl type.

"You'd better get back," Angie suggested. "Don't want to miss that monstrosity, do you?" She dug in her jacket pocket. "Here." In her hand sat an unopened package of earplugs. "No need for you boys to go tone deaf because of a God-awful band, is there? I'm sure thousands of teenage girls would throw themselves off buildings."

Laughing at her dry tone, Ryan and I took the earplugs, thanked her, and went back to the others. I have to say, that band, whatever their name was- I sure as hell didn't care- was much more enjoyable with the usage of earplugs.

"So let me get this straight," Spencer said, during the set-up intermission. "You guys went to lunch, during which a redhead, who didn't care that you're famous, asked you to wave and blow kisses at her friend at their extremely fun, loud table; accidentally ran into her at the door and had an interesting conversation with her in the parking lot; just now went to the bathroom and came across her again, looking totally hot, received earplugs to save you from listening to that crap, and I missed it?!" Laughing, both of us nodded. He turned to Pete, who nodded, looked at Jon, and turned back to me. "Did you at least get her number?"

"Dude, she could have been 24 for all I know," Ryan said, waving his hand.

"Nah," Pete argued, "Her friends were definitely younger. I'd say twenty-one at most."

"Good news then, huh, Spence?" I said, nudging him.

"Yeah, because Haley would totally be cool with me hooking up with some random girl I met on tour," he replied dryly. "Or really, haven't met."

We kept talking as the screen blocking the stage went up and the crowd cheered, pushing forward. The band came out and Jon pointed. "Would this Angie girl happen to be her?" Sure enough, Angie stood by an amp onstage, tuning the bass around her neck. Her t-shirt and blazer has been replaced by a black short-sleeved shirt that wrapped around her torso, showing off a nice figure, olive military-style pants ended just below her knees with silver buttons angling inward on the legs, and instead of Converse, she wore black lace-up boots that went not-quite midway up her calf.

"Are you sure that's the same girl?" Pete asked, standing on his toes.

"Absolutely," I answered, grinning when she glanced out at the crowd and laid eyes on us, "You ever seen another person with hair like that?" I laughed a little as she grinned at the crowd. "Hey, Ryan, she's got makeup like yours!"

Ryan kind of shrugged, but kept staring up at the stage. Angie looked around at her bandmates, two of whom had been at the restaurant, and said something to the guitarist playing a Rickenbacker, who sported a sophisticated rock ensemble one might see on us.

"Hullo," he greeted with a smile and an English accent, looking around the whole room. A chorus of screams went up. "This one's quick, so pay attention." He gestured at the drummer, who counted off, and they launched into a sweeping punk tune, all four singing and yelling.

"~Do you remember us? Do you remember us?"
Then the second guitarist with white-blonde hair sang/scream alone: "We wrapped your Corvette in cellophane! Set it aflame!"
"~Do you remember us? Do you remember us?"
The British guy then took a line: "~We doused your TV set in propane! Turned up the gain!~"
Then Angie came back to the mic: "~This party's dyin' so guitar-me~!
"~Raise the glass to the guitarmy! Do you remember us? Do you remember us?~"

The drums died out and everyone cheered and put their hands in the air. Angie stepped up to the microphone. "Hello, San Francisco!" More cheering. "We are Penny Dreadful and I am wearing women's underwear!" The guys and I laughed as people yelled and cheered again. Angie grinned. "On rhythm guitar, we have Jesse Trill."

The peroxide-blonde waved and said, "On lead guitar, our in-house Brit, Sean Butch Cassidy Vanderpol."

The English guy solo'd briefly. "On drums, Matt the Sundance Kid."

The drummer, the black-haired guy from Angie's table, started a tinpany and yelled into the mic, "And finally, the sexiest fucking bassist you'll never have, Angie Penelope Dreadful herself!"

Angie curtsied with a flourish and announced, "Enough of this tot, we're going to shut up and play, which ironically is the title of the next song." She adjusted her amp and, nodding to the others, starting singing.

"~Another sad song, with nothing to say
About a life-long wait for a hospital stay
If you believe that I'm wrong
This never meant nothing to you
I waited so long for someone to say
If you can move on
I'll never get you to stay
If you believe that I'm wrong
This never meant nothing to you
Another sad song, with nothing to say
About a life-long, wait for a hospital stay
If you believe that I'm wrong
This never meant nothing to you

"~And if you hold on
And need me to stay
You get the hard thoughts
Oh baby just the mistakes
Maybe we'll just
Shut up and play
It never did mean nothing
Never did mean ...

"~Another sad song, with nothing to say
About a life-long, wait for a hospital stay
If you believe that I'm wrong
This never meant nothing to you

"~If you would hold on
And need me to stay
You get the hard thoughts
Oh baby just the mistakes
We never really liked you much anyway
Yeah, yeah, yeah, just go

"~Just go, run away
Where did you run
Don't fight it just run away
Let it go...
If you go, run don't walk
And when you sing, scream don't talk

"~Another sad song, with nothing to say
About a life-long
Wait for a hospital stay
We never really liked you much anyway

"~Another sad song with nothing to say
About a life-long, wait for a hospital stay
If you would just shut up and play
It never did mean nothing to you
Never did mean nothing at all...~"

I clapped so hard and yelled so loud that my hands and throat hurt. The songs kept getting better and better. "She's amazing!" Jon yelled over the roar after "Your New Favourite Song."

"These guys are incredible!" Pete shouted from in front of Spencer.

I couldn't disagree in the least. They were definitely something. Both Sean the guitarist and Angie were so charismatic at the microphone, playing off the crowd's energy and sending more back. All of them danced and jumped and pounded around the stage, and I could tell they were having the time of their lives. Watching them made me look forward to tomorrow night's show, and I think the other guys got the same feeling.

After about an hour and thoroughly sweaty, Angie, having tied back her incredibly long hair with a hair-tie borrowed from an audience member, replaced her bass with a gorgeous green guitar, held on by a black strap with a yellow lightening bolt, and went to the mic. "It is my honour to welcome to the stage our band manager and, for this song, our piano player, Aromi Tropher." A really attractive Italian guy appeared onstage, waved, and sat down at the piano.

Angie scratched the back of her head and smiled sheepishly. "Um, so today I met some really cool guys, and they're here tonight." We looked at each other. "Now, if I had known I would meet them, I probably would have tried to convince the guys not to play this song, but the fact is, I didn't, so I hope they forgive me for this one."

"What..." I started, but soon got my answer as a very familiar drum line played and Spencer yawped, thrown a fist in the air. Ryan shook his head, grinning, as the song started.

Angie sang with a sly smile, playing the character part exactly: "~Please leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman.
From that moment, you'll be out of place and under dressed.
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it.
Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and

"~Please leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman.
From that moment, you'll be out of place and under dressed.
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it.
Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and...

"~When you're in black slacks with accentuating, off-white, pinstripes, woah-oh
Everything goes according to plan.~"

And then, with Angie playing the guitar to replace the trumpet, making for a very unique hard rock sound:
"~I'm the new cancer,
Never looked better, you can't stand it.
Because you say so under your breath.
You're reading lips, When did he get all confident?
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer,
Never looked better and you can't stand it.

"~Next is a trip to the the ladies' room in vain and
I bet you just can't keep up with (keep up!) these fashionistas and.
Tonight tonight, you are you are a whispering campaign.
I bet to them, your name is Cheap, I bet to them you look like sh--
Talk to the mirror, oh, choke back tears.
And keep telling yourself that, I'm a diva!~" -Spencer and Jon laughed, saying it was the best impression of me they'd ever heard-

"~Oh and the smokes in that cigarette box
On the table, they just so happen to be laced with
Nitroglycerin.~" Angie winked luridly at the crowd.

"~I'm the new cancer,
Never looked better, you can't stand it.
Because you say so under your breath.
You're reading lips, "When did he get all confident?"
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer,
Never looked better and you can't stand it.~"

Angie's voice was sultry and addictive as she sang, looking around at all the people on the floor.
"~Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
I've never looked better and you can't stand it.
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?~" And pointing and looking directly at us, Angie finished, smirking:
"~I've never looked better and you can't stand it.

"~And I know and I know, It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up.
I've never been so surreptitious, so of course I'll be distracted when I spike the punch.
And I know and I know, It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up.
I've never been so surreptitious, so of course I'll be distracted when I spike the punch.
And I know and I know, It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up.
I've never been so surreptitious, so of course I'll be distracted when I spike the punch!~"

We cheered the loudest out of anyone, whistling and shouting and clapping.

"Don't hate me," Angie pled us, grinning.

"I'm sure they'll forgive you," the drummer Matt assured into his mic, spinning his stick. "I would." Angie rolled her eyes as she picked up her bass again and I laughed.
"So this is our newest and last song." The crowd sounded very disappointed. "Don't worry, you can buy some merch and we're gonna hang out for a while." Cheers arose. "This one's called 'Playing For Keeps'." Once again, Angie sang with the two guitarists on back-up.

"~It's so simple and complicated
The way you can crush me
No matter how much this hurts
This is through
I get as far as your door before I get caught
I make up excuses just to touch you
And I can't stop, I can't stop

"~So are we playing for keeps?
These days begin and they don't end for weeks
Leave me left out of anything to do with you
Excuse me while I fall apart
Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart
Let me take the wheel and I'll crash this car
Do you have to make this so hard?

"~You're so good (so good) at pretending everything is alright (alright)
You're as welcome as cancer, but my door is always unlocked

"~So are we playing for keeps?
These days begin and they don't end for weeks
Leave me left out of anything to do with you
Excuse me while I fall apart
Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart
Let me take the wheel and I'll crash this car
Do you have to make this so hard?
"~You're so good,
You're so good,
You're so good,
You're so good!~" Angie screamed.

If the fans were loud before, they could deafen now. I shouted and clapped, along with all the guys. I noticed that Angie started laughing.

"It's a good thing that was our last song," she said, "Because I just broke a string."

"Thank you all for coming out!" Sean called.

"Good night!" Matt yelled, standing up, stick held high.

We watched them go off stage and stood around as people moved around; Pete disappeared outside, saying he needed to make a phone call. "What do you say?" Jon said over the din. "Want to go meet the band?"