Your Melody Sounds As Sweet As the First Time It Was Sung

“Dude, calm down. Breathe.”

“But what if I breathe wrong?” Brendon freaked out. “What if he doesn’t like breathing? What if he doesn’t like me? What if I blow this for all of us? Maybe I should change my shirt…”

“BRENDON!” I yelled. He stopped fretting only at my loud voice and looked at me with worry all over his face. I swiftly crossed the room and slapped him on the face.

“Ow!”

I gave him a look.

“Okay, I guess that was called for. Thanks.”

I guess I should explain. Skip ahead four months. Brendon had forgiven me for my little ‘episode’, guilt guiding him I guess, and he’d apologized for speaking about it. Needless to say, we hadn’t talked about anything relating back to that subject again. There was some kind of barrier between us, a barrier that my feelings hadn’t created before, but seemed to thrive for now. He’d go all weird whenever I touched Ryan, which made absolutely no sense. He said that he believed us, but I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if he beat poor Ryan up if we ever did go out. He’s like an overprotective father. Yet another reason why he reminds me so much of mine.

Anyway, the band had gotten better, recorded demos and sent them to Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy. I thought it was good that they had gathered up the confidence to do it. I expected that if Pete listened to it he could give them some constructive criticism or something to help them get better. They were very young, after all. However, I did not expect him to decide on flying to Vegas to hear them and possibly sign them. I mean, yeah, Panic!’s music was awesome. I loved them, they were great, and they were my best friends, but getting signed? Spencer wasn’t even eighteen until next month! And what about school? It was all a big question mark. Maybe they should have used that in he band name rather than the exclamation point.

So that leads up to where we are now, Pete Wentz arriving in fifteen minutes, with Brendon freaking out over the stupidest of things. Seriously, I mean, Ryan wasn’t this worked up over it…

“Char!” Kiah called from downstairs. “I think Ryan’s gonna pass out!”

… I lie.

After finally managing to calm everyone down, Brent being the only sensible one not going all paranoid (although he looked thoroughly bored and uninterested, which was not exactly the desired reaction either), Kiah and I made our way to Spencer’s grandma’s kitchen and poured ourselves some juice. We drank it in the kitchen, because if the others saw us with anything sugar-related they’d want some and all our calming efforts would be in vain. As soon as I’d downed my glass, the shrill of the doorbell rang through the oddly still house. I could just picture all of the guys, holding their breath and forgetting the essentials, such as opening the door. I guess that’s my job. Kiah hot on my heels, I weaved my way to the front door and opened it.

There stood one of my semi-idols. Bassist for Fall Out Boy, one of my favourite bands. And of course, he was attractive. Hello? Pete Wentz. However, I was apparently rather good at beating down any fangirliness and put on what I hope was a normal smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Pete greeted, looking me and Kiah up and down.

We both wore white shorts and a simple tank top, mine grey and Kiah’s purple, with small articles of jewelry giving a strangely elegant look to our casual demeanor. A small frown of confusion sat on Pete’s forehead, and forgive me for staring, but it was a little adorable.

“Um… I hate to be rude, but have I got the right place? I’m looking for one Spencer Smith? Or Ryan Ross, either one.”

Kiah giggled a bit.

“Don’t worry Pete; you’ve got the right house,” I said, ushering him inside. “If you didn’t you probably would have been attacked.”

“True,” he laughed, entering the house. “Now you two know my name, but I don’t know yours. I feel so disadvantaged.”

Kiah stepped in.

“Well I’m Kiah, and this is Charlie. Well, Charlotte, but we all call her Charlie.”

“Do you want some sort of drink?” I asked him as we walked into the kitchen.

“Uh, you got any Dr Pepper?”

“Of course,” I answered, opening the fridge and tossing him a can. I also gave one to Kiah and got myself a glass of water and we returned to the entrance room of the house. Pete took a swig of his drink and started choking on it.

“Are you okay?” Kiah asked worriedly as she patted him on the back. After he finished choking, we realized that it had started from laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, tempted to laugh too just because he was and his laugh was contagious. Unable to answer, he pointed to one of the pictures on the wall. Kiah and I turned to see what it was, and we immediately began laughing too.

There, perched in the middle of the wall in a silver, oval-shaped frame was a portrait photo of Spencer taken when he was about thirteen, just before I met him. His short hair was blue, face chubby in a not-so-attractive way, pale as a ghost with purple rings under his eyes. Let’s just say it wasn’t the most flattering picture of him. The only reason his grandma kept it there was because it had the tendency to make us all laugh, and there is nothing she likes more than ‘her house filled with laughter and stomachs filled with food’.

After we got over our laughing fit, Pete turned back to us, still smiling pleasantly.

“So if you guys don’t mind me asking, I don’t mean to seem rude, but why are you here? You’re not in the band. Let me guess; siblings? Pete-Wentz-obsessed siblings? No, wait, I’ve got it! Groupies!”

Yeah, never give Pete any Dr Pepper.

“We’re not groupies or siblings,” Kiah snorted. “And we’re most certainly not obsessed with you.”

“Ouch, Key,” he clutched his heart dramatically. “That hurt.”

“Key?” she questioned.

“Yeah, I need nicknames for my groupies.”

I rolled my eyes and let out a laugh.

“The band, if they’ve not died in their anxiousness, are in the lounge room,” I said.

“I’ll go see if they’re ready,” Kiah volunteered.

When she left, Pete and I were in a bit of an awkward silence, but he broke it.

“So Charlotte… I need a nickname for you too… Something along the lines of Chardonnay, I think…”

“We’re not groupies!” I laughed. “We’re the best friends.”

“Hmm… I’m gonna call you Chardonnay anyway…”

“Charlie! Pete!” Kiah called from the other room. “They’re ready!”

Pete and I looked at each other and I led him into the family room where the four boys were waiting, holding their breath. None of them seemed to be able to speak.

“Guys, this is Pete,” I introduced. “You’re going to have to say something to him at some point. Pete, this is Brent, Ryan, Brendon, and over there behind the drum kit is Spencer.”

Pete let out a giggle when I gestured towards Spencer, and Kiah and I laughed too. Clearly, the picture was doing its job. The guys looked confused at what we were laughing about, but we didn’t have time to tell them. This was business now.

“Hey guys,” Pete regained his composure and made his way around the room to shake everyone’s hand.

“H-hey…” they all stuttered. It was actually quite hilarious how un-like them they were just because Pete Wentz was in the room. Kiah and I exchanged glances at this, but restrained our giggles.

Kiah, Pete and I took a seat on the couch that we always sat on during practice. But it wasn’t practice this time. No, this time it was the real deal. Make it or break it. I wonder if I’d be able to bribe Pete if it didn’t go exactly according to plan…

“The IV and your hospital bed
This was no accident; it was a therapeutic chain of events…
This is the scent of dead skin on the linoleum floor
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital.
It’s not so pleasant and it’s not so conventional,
It sure as hell ain’t normal but we deal, we deal…”

Okay, I promise that Kiah and I tried to sit still, but that’s just not how it works. We ended up dancing like crazy, as usual. I was proud of the guys; this was one of their best performances, and the energy and effort after they got over their nerves was overwhelming. I loved it. I glanced at Pete’s agreeing face as his head bobbed in time to the music, and I knew immediately that he could see it too; my boys might make it big. At this thought, my face cracked into an even bigger grin and I danced even more stupidly until the song droned out and they began playing ‘Time to Dance’.

After a few more songs, the guys finished up and Pete applauded. I watched Brendon as he bit his lip adorably and shuffled his feet in nervousness. He’s so cute.

“So what’d you think?” Brent asked, quite blankly.

“What do I think…” Pete pretended to think about it, but I could see the look in his eyes. “I think that I need to introduce the world to Decaydance’s newest band!”

Kiah and I squealed, and I immediately ran up to hug my best friend. Once the shock wore off, he hugged back twice as tight. Soon enough, our hug had turned into a group hug, involving everyone in the room, including Pete.

“Let’s go out to celebrate!” Pete said excitedly once everyone had found their breath again.

With the guys still unable to answer, Kiah and I linked arms and dragged everyone out the door.

That day was the beginning of a very important change.