Chapter 1

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   The fact that I had backstage passes to a Fall Out Boy concert tonight was the most insane thing ever.

     I was to meet each and every one of them: Patrick, Pete, Joe, and Andy. I won the passes through a radio contest, actually, and to this day I can't stop thanking them. I was one of the only few who was going to meet them tonight, and alas, I was going to the concert alone. Yep, alone. Great. At least I'd blend in with the crowd, getting there early to blend in with the front row pit.

     I walk up to the venue and I was the third or fourth in line. There was about three hours to go, and I really had no clue what to do. I take out my phone and go on Facebook.

      "In line for the Fall Out Boy concert...starting to get mobbed," I update my status with. And it was. People were piling in line just as I got there. Good thing I got here early.

    I then pull up Twitter, in which I had over a thousand followers on. Nothing special, but people actually interacted with me, and I had some friends on there.

    "standing in line for the @falloutboy concert...still three hours to go...it's all worth it. see you guys soon @patrickstump @petewentz @trohman @hurleyxvx," I tweet. Within a few seconds, the tweet got favorited by a few people. I check to see who it was. I stared at my phone, shocked. Both the FOB account and Patrick Stump himself favorited the tweet. That's the first interaction I've ever gotten on Twitter with them. I stare at my phone, smiling. I refresh the 'Connect' page and see a response.

    "@falloutapril see you soon! thanks so much for waiting! gonna be a great show," Patrick replies with. 

      It took me everything to not start crying tears of joy. I favorite and retweet his response, as do others. 

      "Hey, are you the girl Patrick just tweeted?" this girl in front of me asks. I look up from my phone, still shocked. The girl was wearing dark wash denim skinny jeans, and FOB sweatshirt, and a beanie. I nod my head in excitement.

      "No way!" she exclaims. I nod my head again. I couldn't say anything. I was too speechless.

      She turns back around and talks to the guy who was standing next to her, who was probably her boyfriend.

     "APRRRRIIIIIIILLLLLLL! PATRICK STUMP JUST TWEETED YOU!!!!" were just many of the responses I got from a few of my followers. I smile. I was so happy I couldn't even reply. The fact that the guy just basically talked to me and he was only maybe not even a mile away from where I was standing was incredible. Social media did amazing things.

    I slip my phone back into my pocket and lean against the brick wall that cascaded the whole exterior of the venue. This venue was old, but it was still known for it's great concerts. I knew it was going to be packed tonight, though. This venue is pretty small. No seats. Just standing/general admission.

     After three hours of waiting and making small talk with other fans, it's time for the concert. I hand the employee my ticket and he scans it.

  "ID?" he asks, holding his hand out. I sigh. I forgot this was an eighteen and older show just because of the venue size and that didn't want any children unaccompanied. I quickly take out my wallet and show him the inside, which held my ID. I was nineteen years old. Thank goodness I was. 

   "Enjoy the show," he says, handing me my ticket back after he sees my ID. I give him a quick smile and quickly walk into the venue. There was a middle front spot open. I practically run for it and I crash into the barricade that separated us, security guards, and the band. I laugh at myself quietly. 

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