It's what you do to me

~Chapter 3~

•Brendon's POV•

    I screamed. Fell off of my bed. Had a nosebleed, probably. Andy followed me back on Instagram! This is like a holiday! I jumped around my house in excitement, yelling, "ANDY FOLLOWED ME! ANDY FOLLOWED ME!" If anyone would've heard me, I would've been taken to a Mental Asylum right away. Yes I did spam him, with an abomination of likes, yes I did stalk him. But, I swear I'm not gay. He's a punk rockstar! I mean come on! Give me some slack! I immediately texted him, considering that he just followed me, so he would see my text, and instantly answer. Here's what I sent to him: -Andy, I know you don't know me that well, but I saw you followed me, and you look like someone who is very important. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out...-

    I stared at my phone for five minutes, eyes as wide as tennis balls to see a reply. No reply. He didn't even see it yet. God damn I thought. Whenever I am waiting for something to happen, I always get hungry. Who doesn't. And as I suspected, no food. Well go figure. I haven't went to the store in about a week. I took a peek at my phone. Nothing. I grabbed my keys to my car, backed out of my driveway with ease, and put my phone in the backseat, so I wouldn't be tempted to look at it while Im driving on this busy road.

    I look like I'm picking out food for the queen, as I'm taking three years to decide what I want. Hmmm, potato chips sound good, ice cream? No... candy? Nah... cookies? YYAASS! I checked out some more things, and then left.

    When I arrived back home, I ate like a fucking pig. Sorry, when I'm hungry I'm hungry! For the next hour, I constantly was looking at my phone for a reply from Andy. I was starting to doubt that he would ever reply. He's a busy guy, I thought. He probably has better things to do then answer a message from little old me.