If Only Until Morning

"~The more we laughed, the more we were doomed, we knew~," I sang, fervently slamming at the guitar strings. Beside me, Matt was in his own little world, slapping the stretched leather of the bongos. "~We laughed like it was the last we'd enjoy.~"

I let the last chord ring out for a moment before swinging the guitar strap over my head and hopping down from the couch where I'd been rocking back and forth. The people in the studio applauded and cheered.

"We're in the studio today with Matt and Penelope of Penny Dreadful, who just played their latest single, '1001 Yellow Daffodils'," one of the jockeys announced, both to the microphone and the camera filming for their weekly internet show.

"Oddly enough," the other jockey said as Matt and I sat down, "We have the bassist and drummer in today. Why is that, guys?"

"Jesse wasn't feeling well and Sean wanted to sleep," Matt said with a grin.

I chuckled. "Well, we didn't really think it was fair that, as guitarists, they always had to wake up early to do radio shows, and Matt always rubs it in their faces that he gets to sleep in, so we decided to give him a taste of his own medicine."

Matt made a snarky face, which made our interviewers laughs. "But you're still here. Don't you get a day off, Penelope?"

I shrugged. "No rest for the wicked," I replied simply.

"True enough," the man with the baseball cap agreed. "On that note, we have some questions that fans have emailed in for you guys, if that's cool."

"'Swhat we're here for," Matt said, still grinning his charismatic smile.

"Well, let's get the short ones out of the way first. Pirate or ninja?"

"Pirate," we both said instantly, and Matt continued, "Despite the whole emo-ninja thing, pirates are way more badass."

"Batman or Superman?"

"Superman," Matt answered with a prompt nod. "He's actually got superpowers, as opposed to Batman, who's just a screwed-up rich guy with a lot of gadgets."

I scoffed. "Neither. Marvel wins hands-down over DC when it comes to almost everything. Especially villains; I mean, really. Bizarro Superman? The Reverse Flash? Man-bat?" I looked at our interviewers as a side-note. "Can we swear?" They nodded, amused, and I looked directly at the camera. "Fuck Man-bat."

The jockey with the ridiculously scene haircut laughed. "Vehement. Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Vanilla," I said, just before Matt did. "People say you're boring if you like vanilla, but everyone says chocolate and vanilla's great on its own."

"Jedi or Sith?"

I thought for a minute as Matt answered. "I'd have to say Jedi," he admitted, adjusting his seat on the couch beside me. "Because, after all, the good guys always win."

And that inspired me. "But bad guys have way more fun," I reasoned factually. "So I say Sith."

The baseball cap jockey looked at his computer for the next question. "Boxers or briefs?"

I laughed. "All the hot guys I know wear boxer-briefs, so."

Matt grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "I wear boxer-briefs," he informed the camera conspiratorially, making everyone else laugh, including me.

The scenester jockey cackled when he read the next question. "Frank Iero and hot fudge or Ryan Ross and whipped cream?"

My eyes widened in confusion while everyone else laughed heartily. "I really don't like whipped cream," Matt wheezed, trying to control his laughter. "So Iero it is."

"Penelope?" Baseball Cap prompted.

I shook my head in amusement. "Um. Well, Frank's a great guy and all, but he's very much older than I and no offence to him, but I like tall guys. So the latter."

"Plus we've covered Ryan in whipped cream before," Matt added to me as a reminder.

I smirked at the memory. "Oh, that's right, we did. You have to love tour pranks."

"Speaking of tour, we got a lot of questions about that. You're currently on Warped Tour, right?" We nodded. "First off, how's the food?"

"Fantastic," Matt revealed enthusiastically. "I was really surprised; I thought we'd be starving and broke the whole time. Well, we're still broke, but not because we have to buy food."

"They have a lot more vegetarian food than I thought they would."

"Oh, you're a vegetarian, Pen?"

"No," I admitted, "But I haven't really been eating meat this tour. I have a lot of friends who're vegetarians or vegans or some form thereof. And it's there, so I figure, why not take advantage of it?"

Matt tilted his head at me. "Uh, because your clothes barely fit anymore?" he said rhetorically. I'm running out of shirts because you keep stealing them."

"But you do look fantastic," Scenester-hair complimented. I smiled and shrugged modestly. I wasn't going to toot my own horn when I was surrounded by people who seemed all too happy to do so for me. "Moving on, if you could change one thing about tour, what would it be?"

I smiled ruefully. "Well, I have an answer, but Matthew here would be cross if I revealed that, so I decline to answer," I replied diplomatically.

Matt rolled his eyes and nudged me with his elbow. I instantly nudged him back. "I'd like to know who writes the order of the sets. They keep it this big secret so no one tries to bribe whoever it is into giving them a specific time."

"My theory is our managers have a meeting over beers every few days and decide where they want us when," I put in. "They keep a tight reign on us." I paused and grinned. "Oh, wait. No, they don't."

"Next question," Scenester-hair posed. "What's the worst injury anyone's gotten while performing?"

"We try to be pretty careful when we're onstage," Matt said, leaning back into the couch and playing with my hair, "To make up for the fact that we're all sort of reckless when we're not playing."

I scoffed. "Speak for yourself." Our interviewers chuckled. "But the reason they're so careful is that before we formed this band, Sean broke his leg because of badly-attached monitors and Matt got a very mild concussion from when someone hit him with a beer bottle."

"Luckily not at the same show," Matt added, grinning. He paused thoughtfully. "Though I don't remember most of that night, so who knows what the hell happened."

"How hard is it being surrounded by boys all the time?" Baseball Cap read off the computer screen. "Do they ever give you your privacy or do they treat you as 'one of the guys'? So I guess this one's for Angie."

"Or on the flip side," Scenester-hair interrupted as I began to talk, "Matt, what's it like having a girl in the band? Does it make living on the bus awkward?"

I gestured Matt onward in speech and relaxed. This was one thing I never quite got the hang of about interviews; I was never a very social or extroverted person, so answering questions about the band made me trip over my tongue. I often spoke too quietly and too quickly to be understood by most people. Which is what I had the guys for. And they were good at it.

"If we'd done a real tour when Ange first joined, I think it would've been a lot worse," Matt admitted, leaning forward onto his knees. "Because she used to be even shier, if you can imagine that--" I poked his side and he squirmed away, "-- And I used to be even more of a whore. But it's nice. I think Sean, Jess, and I would kill each other if we didn't have Pen around."

I smiled toothily. "I've always been one of the guys. Except when I'm changing. Then I'm considered incredibly female." I shrugged lightly as people laughed. "But we all understand the necessity of personal time, so it's not so bad."

"Are there ever times when you want to drop out of school to focus mainly on the band? Since you're already famous and it's obvious you won't give it up for college."

Matt turned to me, a befuddled expression on his face. "We're famous?" he asked incredulously. "When did we get famous?" I lifted a shoulder and let it fall, in the same patch of dark as he was. "Anyway, no, school's important. Stay in school, kids," he pointed out to the camera before turning back, "Or at least it will be until Ange graduates."

I snickered. "It's mostly my fault, what with being born two years late," I informed the room and whoever would be watching online. "But I think about it sometimes. Pete actually asked me... last week, I think, why I didn't just take my GED and I said it was because I could have passed it when I was in fifth grade." I shrugged again. "And I've survived this long, so why not stick it out?"

"Pete Wentz?" Scenester-hair clarified. Matt and I both nodded. "So you guys have a pretty good relationship?"

"As good a relationship as friends slash potential label mates can have," Matt said, nodding promptly.

"I heard a rumour you guys are starting your own label," Baseball Cap announced. "Is that true?"

I fingered the neck of the guitar resting against my knee. "Kind of," I said, smiling, "The icon we put on the album-- Decaffeinated Penguin Records-- was kind of an inside joke, but since then we've been talking to some people about actually starting it up."

"If we do," Matt put in, "It probably won't be that big. Most likely a spawn-project off another record company."

The interviewer with the baseball cap chuckled as he continued posing fans' questions. "Speaking of rumours. Angie: So rumour has it that you dye your hair and a gay man helps you with the colour. How much does it suck to have your own identity based on the actions of a guy who's not even interested in you?"

Matt and I both burst out laughing, and I fell back against the couch, eyes shut. "I think the phrase is 'Wouldn't it suck if...' but we'll let that slide. Nah, Pen's definitely a natural redhead and as for guys not interested in her, I don't think those are the ones she's worried about." I shot him a glare and tossed my head.

"So what's the most audacious rumour you've heard?"

"That I'm dating all three members of the band," I said, rolling my eyes, "As well Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross, William Beckett, and Alex Gaskarth." I paused. "Probably at the same time."

"So there's no truth in the idea that you and Matt are an item and make out right before going on?"

Matt and I stopped, mid-laugh, and glanced at each other with wide eyes. A memory flashed up in my brain, and from the look on his face, the same did in his. We turned our heads sharply and stated, quite unambiguously, in mild repugnance, "No."

Everyone in the room was too busy laughing to notice that we weren't. As they slowly stopped, I rolled my eyes to Matt, who gave a small shrug. "Okay, we've got time for one more question and maybe a song if you guys are up for it?" the jockey with the baseball cap said and asked.

"Sure, we've got nothing else to do today," Matt agreed, putting on his lazy grin again.

Our two interviewers looked through the questions-- Hey, maybe we are famous, I thought dryly as we waited-- and I smiled amiably when they snickered evilly and muttered, "Oh, that one, definitely." "Last one's for Penelope again," Scenester-hair said before pausing. "...Angie, what's the worst part about touring with Ryan Ross?"

The smile dropped off my face faster than Brendon dropping the hot pancake I tossed him the other morning. Even Matt chuckled as my eyes widened. I laughed nervously, drawing a blank. "Um... wait, who did you say sent that?"

"Uh... innocentsubterfuge is the screen name," Baseball Cap informed me, reading it off the monitor.

My eyebrows lowered and my eyes rolled in understanding. "Figures," I said flippantly. "That's a friend of mine."

"So what's your answer?" Scenester-hair prodded.

I looked to Matt for help, but he only smirked at me. Well, fuck you very nicely too. "Um. Well," I stuttered. "... I don't know, uh." I thought frantically for something innocent. That wouldn't lead to truth. I plastered on a grin. "The worst part about tour with Ryan Ross is that I'm always missing conditioner, scarves, and hats."

From the corner of my eye as the jockeys were talking to the imaginary audience, I noticed Matt nod pensively as he picked up the bongos we'd brought. I snapped out of my daze when he said, "This one's a new song. So new that Butch Cassidy and Trill haven't even heard it."

I quickly lifted the guitar and tuned it, nodding at my companion when I finished. I strummed out the intro while he tapped the drums and crooned a melodious background. Licking my lips, I took a breath and shut my eyes.

"~I can see you--
I don't even know you--
Falling into the sheets at night
I place my hands flat on my chest
And I feel the heart beat back. At night I tried
Counting the sheep and I
Talked to the shepherd and
Played with my pillow forever and ever.
I sit alone and I watch the clock
I breathe in on the tick
And out on the tock...~"

I changed keys automatically and returned to playing what would become Jesse or Sean's part, while Matt sang harmonies.

"~I can hear your bare feet on the kitchen floor
And I don't have to have these dreams no more, and I
Found someone just to hold me tight
Hold the insomniac all night.~"

We played the intro again, and I drew my eyes away from the camera sitting poised on me not six feet away.

"~I dig my head down deep
So I can't hear the cars
Outside on the street,
And the stars are laughing, they get a kick
Out of my misery... I've tried
Everything short of
Aristotle to Dramamine, and a whiskey bottle~--" I always seemed to laugh during that line, despite the connotations it brought up--
"~I, pray for the day when my ship comes in
So I can sleep
The sleep of the just again...~

"~I can hear your bare feet on the kitchen floor
And I don't have to have these dreams no more (Have these dreams)
and I
Found someone just to hold me tight
Hold the insomniac all night.~"

I briefly played the bass line, which would be heard when everything dropped out for a moment, and took a deep breath to croon along wordless against Matt. As I continued to strum, it occurred to me that no one really gave him enough credit for... well, anything. Sure, he could be an asshole sometimes, but couldn't everyone?

"~I can hear your bare feet on the kitchen floor
And I don't have to have these dreams no more (Have these dreams)
and I
Found someone just to hold me tight
Hold the insomniac all night.~"

I went back into the bass line as Matt waited for the part where he'd put in the cymbals later.

"~Hold the insomniac all night...
Hold the insomniac all night...
Hold the insomniac all night
All night, won't you hold me tight?
Hold the insomniac all night...~"

I sang that part in repetition as Matt sang clearly, "~Won't you hold me and keep, oh,
Keep all night, oh hold...~" Then we met back in the lyrics and we played the main riff again until the end, where we left it fade out.