Pictures on Silence

To completely blow the mind of everyone who knew us, our last show before heading back to San Francisco was stationed at the Hard Rock in Los Angeles. Yep, the four who all the kids in high school said would never become anything were playing one of the most famous places in the state. I decided we should dedicate a song to them.

However, before our absolutely amazing show, we had two interviews with different magazines, one of them being Seventeen. Don't ask me why a beauty magazine wanted to interview a band of three guys and a girl who wasn't even as old as the magazines title. Don't they have rules for those sorts of things?

Needless to say, having two interviews and a show altogether in one day, especially in a city as big as that, was pretty hectic. It surprised everyone that Jesse didn't get a speeding ticket, but then again, seeing some of the other drivers in L.A., maybe it wasn't so shocking.

Barely sprinting into Seventeen on time, the four of us all out of breath greeted the workers. Figures we wouldn't find parking either. We shook hands with the interviewer, editor-in-chief Ann Shoket, photographer, and some other heads of staff; I lost track after seven people. Standing around and listening to the explanation of our meeting, I noticed the photographer and some other suit looking at me and talking, but thought nothing of it; people always looked at me strangely.

"Hey, Ann," the photographer Jay said, turning to interrupt the order to get us into hair and makeup, "Do we have a cover model yet?"

"No, Jessica had to cancel," she replied with a sigh. "Why?" Jay pulled me between them and held me by the shoulders. Slowly a smile crossed Ann's face. I glanced quickly between them with slightly widened eyes. What's happening? I thought frantically. Why are they smiling like that? "Have you ever modelled before, Penelope?"

So that's how I ended up an hour later sitting at a table in front of a white screen, smiling and posing for the cover of a mainstream fashion magazine. I would have preferred Spin or AP or something vaguely music-related, but I'll take what I get.

Next we took some photos of the band, all decked out like rock stars. I fidgeted with the plunging neckline of my white dress and smiled apologetically when I was chastised. Sean became my leaning post after a while, letting me rest against his shoulder.

At one point I got bored, so I started brushing my red-lacquered nails across his cheek. Matt kept an eagle eye on me before losing total protective indifference and snuggling into my shoulder with his arms around me. Then Jesse put his chin on his head, putting us in yet another position for a silly picture. I rolled my eyes, knowing it would get printed.

Once again, the four of us sat around with the interviewer and talked about ourselves. See: Matt and Jesse talking about the band. See: Sean and Angie laughing occasionally. The one thing I said more than two words about was a little pact the band had.

"Just around the time we started playing shows together," I regaled, "When we first started out, Matt decided that he wanted to get a lip ring." Matt beamed cheekily, sprouting laughter around the room. "And if you've ever joined me at a concert or anywhere with people my age, you'll know that I really don't like lip rings. So I told him, if I find a hole with a piece of metal through it anywhere near your mouth, you'll need to find another bassist." By this time, all four of us were laughing at the memory. "And he gets this pie-eyed look on his face like I just told him the Easter Bunny didn't exist."

"The Easter Bunny's a fraud?!" Jesse screeched, almost falling out of his chair to look at me.

The interview mostly went like that: sarcastic and making fun of each other. A few times, though, the guys diverted the more subtle questions about our personal lives.

"So this show at the Hard Rock is your last of the summer, right?" the interviewer asked. "Have you all got someone special at home you're waiting to see?"

We all looked at each other a touch exasperatedly; when we started doing interviews, we agreed it would only be about the music as not to make the ideals of us bigger than it. I think it was the guy's unspoken fear of fan fiction.

However, I shrugged my shoulders and said quite simply, "Everyone has someone to miss. Loved ones, friends. What, did you think we didn't know anyone else?" A handful of people laughed, including the band who were thankful for my quick diversionary tactics.

"No, I meant boyfriends or girlfriends."

Persistent little bugger, isn't he?

I guess you can't please everyone.

"We'd prefer not to say," Jesse stated. "That's personal."

"What about the rumours involving you and Panic! At the Disco?" theasshole kind, wonderful interviewer continued, having completely abandoned his notebook. He looked with gossip-sparkling eyes directly at me when he spoke. This guy wanted the scoop for himself alone. "The word through the grapevine says they came to a show of yours in New York. Are you sure there's nothing there?"

For a long moment, I merely looked at him. A hush silence passed through my ears, like everyone was waiting for some confession. One that wasn't coming because it didn't exist. But they didn't have to know that.

I smiled enigmatically. "No comment."

"That was one of the worse things you could have done," Matt said later in the dressing room. I glanced up at him from doing my makeup in the mirror. Tonight my face was a semi-au mage to Gerard Way: a black strip across my face from eyebrow to cheekbone, with white, purple, and black designs around my right eye and down my cheek.

"It's just going to generate even more rumours."

I chuckled and went back to painting. "You really think I care what people say? They can go take a flying leap at themselves. I know the facts, you know the facts, the guys know the facts, what else matters?"

Matt shook his head and sat down beside me. After a second he leaned his head on my shoulder. "Publicity can be bad, you know."

"Look who's talking, maschio puttana," I replied indicatively. A smile crossed Matt's face as his bright green eyes closed. I twirled the lid of the purple liquid and took up the black pencil. "Your turn, love."

I caught the water bottle tossed to me from offstage, took a few gulps, and handed it to a security guard, who doled it out to thirsty fans. Sean was speaking into the mic about the future history of this show. Our final show of our first summer. This was a night to remember.

Personally, the only thing I could think about was the interview earlier. Matt had gotten the idea into my head and now it was gnawing away at my mind. Maybe I shouldn't toy with the press so much. What if the guys really didn't like being linked to us, but they were too polite to say anything? What if this was breaking our careers?

I looked at the crowd. The fans. The love of my life. Impulsively, I took off my bass and picked up Gretchen, my guitar, the one Brendon said he loved. In crossing the stage to the microphone, I stopped at the drum, thrust my bass at Jesse, and breezed by Sean, whispering the same thing to all of them.
"Change in set."

Someone in the front yelled my name. When I looked over, throwing the straps around my neck, they blew me a kiss and shouted, "I love you!" I smiled and tossed back my hair. "I love you, too," I told them. Other fans laughed and cheered. "All of you. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be here. This moment... this moment will last forever. So take a picture of you with all your friends." Cameras flashed.

"This next song's about you. It's about us, and everyone else who loves being on the floor of a show, singing and dancing their heart out."

Looks of realisation replied those of confusion on the guys' faces, and they all grinned at me. "This song was written by some musicians whom I really respect and admire, and I hope you love it."

Sean started out, plunking his guitar strings, soon joined by Matt on the drums and Jesse singing backup. I shut my eyes, immersing myself in the dreamlike images in my head.

"~Every Friday at three
shadows escape from the factory.
If you can go to the show,
hurry up and get back to me.
Tonight we meet underground
where the air is thick like mud,
and the bands make noise
that we--call--audio blood.
Every weekend we're igniting
like chemical fires.
Youth centers fill with teens.
They fill with vampires.~"

We jumped with the crash cymbal and lunged into the chorus.

"~Sweating in the dark we're freed
as the weight of the week
falls away with a thud.
Sweating in the dark we feed
on the forms in the light;
on the floor we're the flood.
We bleed, we bleed, we bleed
Audio blood.

"~No, I...
No, I, oh no,
And all through the week,
whispers follow the shadows down the halls.
Our handstamps fade,
and I cringe at the stupid names we're called.
Every weekend we are massing,
seeking sonic escape.
The shadows flood the floor
and start to take shape.

"~Sweating in the dark we're freed
as the weight of the week
falls away with a thud.
Sweating in the dark we feed
on the forms in the light;
on the floor we're the flood.
We bleed, we bleed, we bleed
Audio blood~," I growled sensually, falling back to slam on the guitar.

Then everything fell out but Sean. I rolled my head back, feeling the music in my body. Everything was starting to crescendo, and I found myself crouched with the mic stand almost on the ground, guitar on my back, close to the fans.

"~This is how we bleed in audio...
let down your skin,
let the wind blow through your veins~," I whispered. My voice grew louder on the repeat, until I was basically screaming on the third repetition.

Only my voice rang out from the stage on the next line.

"~Sweating in the dark we're freed
as the weight of the week
falls away with a thud.
Sweating in the dark we feed
on the forms in the light;
on the floor we're the flood.
We bleed, we bleed, we bleed
Audio blood~!"

The crowd roared when the song ended. I was grinning like a maniac, slapping out high fives to everyone I could. This was my element. My life. I couldn't ask for more.

Backstage, I lay collapsed on the couch, staring blankly up at the ceiling. I barely moved when Matt lay down on top of me, his hair falling across my face. I grunted when Jesse laid down on top of him, but otherwise didn't move. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but I remember that Sean started filming us.

"Pen, your phone's vibrating," Matt said, muffled, into the side of my face. I attempted to retrieve it, but my arm was lodged stubbornly between me and the couch. Damn guys; I was on the couch, not part of it. "I'll get it. You probably don't want to put your hand down there anyway."

I rolled my eyes and twisted my head at a weird angle to put my ear to the cell that Matt was holding awkwardly over the floor. "Hello?"

"Hey, Pen," Ryan greeted. "Have a good show?"

Delight filled my body. "It was amazing!" I cried joyously. "What a way to end it."

"You sad it's over?"

"Nah. I know we're still over to be playing shows under the school year." I squirmed underneath Matt and Jesse's bodyweight, causing Matt to make a stifled noise and attempt to throw Jesse off.

"Sweetheart, my arm's killing me," Matt Informed me. "Jesse, get your fucking ass off mine!" We all yelled for a few minutes in the havoc before Jesse fell off and Sean, still filming, fell over laughing.

I took the phone from Matt, who remained on top of me, snuggling into my shoulder with a smirk on his face. "Hello again, Georgie-boy," I whispered, out of breath.

Ryan laughed. "Hello again, my darling Rhiannon."

Heat rose in my cheeks for some reason. I laughed falteringly. "I, uh... yeah..."

"Penelope's blushing!" Jesse yelled, pointing. "Loverboy said something dirty!"

While the three of them burst out laughing, making kissy noises and cooing, I smacked Trill over the head and poked Manwhore in the side, making him flail to the floor and land on top of Jesse. I snorted and rolled my eyes. "It's Ryan, you dopes," I informed them.

That didn't phase them. "Oooo! Ryan said something dirty!" Jesse shouted.

"No phone sex in the presence of others!" Matt exclaimed, holding his side.

My face could out-burn the sun. "R-ryan, I'll call you back," I stuttered. "I have to go kick my band's asses."

He laughed awkwardly, probably as uncomfortable with that as I. "You... go do that, Ange."

"Ciao, love." I snapped my phone shut and sat up. All three of them shut up quick. "You have until three." None of them moved. "Three!" I lunged for Jesse and Matt, all of us yelling and shouting.

Band love!