Diary Of A Warped Girl

Decaydance

"So this is it," I said looking at a building. This was where the studio office was for thr said studio was. I was calling it said studio because Dean refused to tell me which record company we were being signed to. I breathed and we entered the building. I was so nervous, my heart was probably beating a thousand miles per hour. Wait, what? I don't even use miles! Oh god. I'm rambling.

"Okay. He said the 18th floor," Dean said, pressing the button. I looked around me and took in my surroundings. The last moments I would have as a normal teen would be in an elevator. That sounds so weird. The elevator dinging brought me out of my thoughts.

"Woah." The corridor was long and white with several gold, silver and platinum records upon the walls. The dark marble floors made our footsteps louder than needed, making the butterflies in my stomach go from metamorphing to billions of full grown ones. I looked at my top, and took in the words, "Sugar, we're going down." I inwardly groaned. I really hope we weren't getting signed to a HUGE record company.

"I swear to god, Dean, you tell me right now who we're getting signed to, or I'll bite your head off," I growled. "Relax, we're hear already." Dean opened the door and a guy, the owner I presumed, got up and said, "You made it! Sorry, I still haven't had any coffee yet," while I just played with my fingers awkwardly. I would look up, but if it was someone I admired, I'd die.

I looked up and suddenly realized how idiotic my top must've looked. Fate behold, Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III was standing in front of me. He must've noticed my top, because he was smirking in my direction and said something about Patrick, but that was all I remembered before I fainted.

***

"Is she alright?" Someone unfamiliar asked. "Nah. This is kinda normal," I heard Ryder whisper. I realized what was going on and opened my eyes and jumped up as if a weeping angel was about to send me back in time and feed off my unused energy.

"Y-y-y-you'rePeteWentz," I said quickly. You know that feeling where you have a giant lump in your throat and you feel like you can't talk at all or you're going to cry or something? Yeah, that's what I felt like.

"Okay, now that we're all conscious, can we please get signed and discuss... whatever people discuss at these things?" Ryder said, practically itching to leave. I looked at her and realized she had to go pee. "Just go," I sighed. "THANK FUCK!"

"Here it is. The standard Decaydance contract," Pete said, placing a bunch of documents. "Dean, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone? In private? Away from everyone?" I asked. "Okay, but I seriously doubt that you're getting out of this," Dean warned.

"I'm scared," I whispered. "Oh god. Not this again. Look, sure, you're smaller than all of us, but you're awesome! You're basically a Welsh Hayley Williams; you take song lines literally, and you're a real rebel! You'll be fine." "Promise?" "Promise."

We went back and we signed the contract, all four of us. Officially a signed band, and to the record company owned by one of my heroes.

"Now, is there anything I should know, in general about you guys?" "Dean tends to lose his phone a lot," Ryder said, slightly bored. "I have high coeliac, so I can't have gluten. And I suck at being formal, so interviews are going to be terribly nerve-wrecking." "Okay then." 

"How long are you guys in the US for?" Pete asked, with a mischevous look in his eyes. "I have no idea how long these people are here for, but I'm staying until the 20th of August for my brother's wedding," I explained, trying to read the records on the wall. "Wedding?" "In Pakistani tradition, if you're 25 and not engaged, you're considered doomed to be forever alone. Of course, that only applies to boys."

"Anyways, we were going to leave in a couple of weeks, but we still haven't bought the return tickets," Josh said. "Good. There's an opening on Warped for the Kia Soul stage, and you guys need a little bit of exposure," Pete explained. My jaw dropped to the ground.