The Opportunity of a Lifetime

Chapter 9 (Patrick's POV)

"Goodnight New Jersey! You all fucking rocked! We love you!" Pete yells into the microphone, sending the fans into a screaming frenzy. I smile at the crowd, waving at some people, making them scream even louder. I scan my eyes over the front row, looking for a certain someone. I spot Hailey, who's smiling at me. I blush, grinning at her.

I must have been staring at her for a while, because I just now realize that the rest of the band is already walking off the stage. I jog over to the platform the drum set is on and prop my Gretsch against it, running after Andy, blushing like a madman.

"Who were you making eyes for?" Andy turns around and asks me.

"I, uh... what?" I cleverly respond. Andy smirks at me and raises his eyebrows.

"You were obviously staring at a girl. Pete wagged his hand in front of your face and couldn't wipe that stupid grin off of it."

"You are seriously bad at hiding things," Pete adds.

"I, uh, I wasn't staring at anybody," I mutter.

"Oh, come on. You were so undressing this special little lady with your eyes," Joe says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I was not!" I pout.

"Aw, Pattycakes is blushing!" Pete mocks, interlocking his hands and resting his head on them.

I flip them off, walking back to our dressing room. Before I could get there, though, a body slams into me, wrapping their arms around me. I look down and see the purple zebra-printed frames of glasses. Hailey. I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her head and inhaling her scent.

"What's this for?" I murmur.

"You guys were amazing," she mutters against my shirt. My sweat-soaked shirt. Shit.

I jump out of her embrace, immediately feeling bad about it after seeing her rejected face. "Um. My shirt is really sweaty," I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. Then she laughs.

"I don't care."

"What you think, as long as its about me!" Joe sings, walking past us and into the dressing room. I just shake my head.

"Come on," I say, grabbing Hailey's hand and dragging her into the dressing room.

"Ooh, they about to get it on!" Pete screams from the hallway.

"Shut the hell up, dude!" I yell back, looking at Hailey's amused face. "I'm not going to rape you, don't worry."

"Awww but I have my lucky rape underwear on," Hailey replies, mocking disappointment. She laughs at my horrified expression.

"I'm just kidding," she says, walking off to the refrigerator. I can't help watching the way her hips sway as she makes her way over to it. What the hell is wrong with you, Patrick?

I mentally smack myself out of my trance, walking over to my miniature closet. Opening it, I let my eyes skim over my clothes until Hailey walks next to me and taps her finger against her chin thoughtfully.

"Wear this," she says, pulling out my infamous red cardigan and grins at me.

"Why that one?"

She shrugs. "I like it," she responds simply.

"Alright." I pull out a black T-shirt to wear under it, along with my black skinny jeans and wingtip boots. I raise my outfit choice in question, gaining her nod of approval.

Chuckling, I head towards the bathroom to change.

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Once I open the door from the bathroom, I hear Pete calling my name.

"Patrick, I think you'll want to see this," he calls from the dressing room.

I walk the short distance to where he's sitting and see everyone's eyes are glued to the TV. I glance at the screen, my eyes growing huge.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath.

"...after Fall Out Boy's amazing show in New Jersey, the band walks off the stage and heads to their dressing room, but not before their front man Patrick Stump gets a hug backstage from a girl we've never seen before. Could she be a possible girlfriend? Who is this girl? Now, back to you, Fran."

The news report followed up with a picture of Hailey hugging me. You can only see her back, but its still there. How did they even get that picture?

I look back at everyone, now staring at me.

"What?" I ask.

"You know what this means now, right?" Andy asks me.

I nod. "The media isn't going to leave us alone until they find out who Hailey is. They're not going to."

"How won't they, Patrick? Were touring with you and watching all of your shows. They're going to recognize me," Hailey says, frowning.

I think for a minute. "The picture only shows your back. The only thing you can see is your clothes and your hair..."

"Yeah, so?"

"How do you feel about dying your hair?"

She stares at me for a minute, then breaks out in a smile.

"Seriously? I've always wanted to!" she exclaims, getting excited.

"But what if people see her and Cheryl getting on the bus with us? They're going to be sending paparazzi everywhere, trying to figure out who Hailey is. If it was bad before, Its going to be even worse now," Andy states grimly.

"I don't want to stay on the bus during your shows," Hailey says.

"We don't want you to either," I say, frustrated. Changing her appearance will work to an extent, but the obvious obstacle is getting them on and off the bus unseen. I move to the couch everyone is sitting in, perching on the arm. Everybody sits silently in deep thought for a while, and then Joe jumps up from the couch, screaming, "I got it!"

We all look up expectantly. "They both dress up as security guards! They can both just be the kind that travel with us!"

We all glance at each other, considering it.

"It is logical," I say.

"Alright. How would you two like to be our security guards?" Joe asks Cheryl and Hailey.

They look at each other, then look back at me.

"Sounds rad to me," Hailey says, causing Cheryl to groan.

"Don't say "rad" dude, you're not from the '80s."

"I'll say what I want to say," Hailey retorts, causing her and Cheryl to start fighting with each other while everyone watched and yelled "ooooh, burn!" to whatever they'd say. I just sink into the couch, watching Hailey with a smirk on my face. A security guard. I'd love to see her act as that. Chuckling to myself, I watch the two best friends contentedly, excited to see how the next couple months are going to turn out.