Ryan Ross Imagines [✔️]

#12: Pete's Sister (requested)

this imagine was requested by @alana_younes

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*Alana's pov*

"Good morning," I said, patting my brother, Pete, on the shoulder.

"Morning? Alana, it's twelve thirty," Pete chuckled.

"Well, that's morning for me," I said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, there's a band coming here at one. They want me to sign them," he informed me after taking a sip of his coffee.

"Ok, what's the band called?" I asked while making myself a cup of coffee.

"Panic! At the Disco!" He exclaimed with a lot of enthusiasm.

I laughed and sat down at the table with him while we both drank our coffees.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

      The band was here and they were setting up their stuff in our music room. They started playing their songs and they weren't bad at all. Pete said they all just got out of high school, except the guitarist because he dropped out of college for music. The singer had a bold voice, I liked it. The guitarist did backup vocals and he stood out to me the most for some reason. Maybe it was because I played guitar too or the fact he was handsome with his beautiful brown eyes and his hair was kind of long but it fell perfectly around his face.

"It's a yes!" Pete said and the boys high fived each other.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Wentz," the lead singer said.

"You're welcome. But please, call me Pete," Pete insisted.

"Alana, this is Brendon, Ryan, Brent, and Spencer," Pete said, pointing to each band member and I smiled to them.

      After they all packed up their instruments, they were talking to Pete but I managed to talk to Ryan.

"You guys are really good! Who writes the songs?" I asked.

"I do," Ryan answered shyly.

"They're amazing," I told him.

"Thanks. Do you play anything?" He asked.

"I play guitar," I answered, smiling.

"Nice. Are you Pete's girlfriend or?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"No, I'm his sister."

"Oh, ok. You're — you're pretty cute," he smiled.

"T-thank you," I blushed madly.

He ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook that he took out of his guitar bag and he scribbled something down. "I gotta go, but — uh, here's my number," he said, handing me the piece of paper.

"Bye," I said.

"Bye," he repeated before leaving with his band.

"So... I see you like Ryan, huh," Pete said.

"Maybe," I smirked.