✓ ❘ 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝐌𝐂𝐑. 𝐏!𝐀𝐓𝐃. 𝐅𝐎𝐁. 𝐓Ø𝐏.

I Hate You, I Love You. (Ryan Ross x Reader)

"You're starting again."

"What?" you asked innocently, turning to Spencer with a smile.

The drummer shook his head and scoffed, eyes darting between you and Ryan – who was standing across the room at the piano. "(Y/N). You're practically drooling."

Instinctively, you raised a hand to your mouth and wiped. "No, I'm not!" you defended. "Shut up. You're insane!"

Spencer pursed his lips and kept quiet for a second while he thought. "Yeah," he chuckled after a little while, "you're right. What would you ever see in Ryan?"

"WHAT?" you gaped, turning to your friend with a shocked face. "Ryan is amazing! Funny, handsome, smart-"

"..."

"..."

Spencer sniggered.

"I can't believe I fell for that," you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut and rolling your head before banging it against the table.

~2 months later~

Brendon practically galloped down the backstage corridors of the venue you guys were playing in tonight, giggling gleefully as he made his way closer and closer to you.

He skidded to a halt in the west wing of the stage, which you currently occupied with your band – The Midnight Bandits.

You guys were currently touring with Panic! as the opening act on their Pretty. Odd. tour, having started just over two months ago. At present, your band was on stage, halfway through the last song of your sound check for tonight's show.

Brendon couldn't stop his legs from bouncing as he patiently waited for you guys to finish, his giggles returning as you started coming off stage.

"(Y/N)!" he waved you over excitedly.

You turned away from your conversation with one of your band mates – Jesy – and faced in the direction you heard your name being called from; seeing Brendon virtually exploding with excitement, you offered him a weak smile.

With a sardonic smirk plastered on her face, Jesy patted you on the back. "Good luck," she whispered before slinking off to join the rest of your band while you aversely made your way over to Brendon.

"Hi, Bren."

"(Y/N), WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON RYAN?"

Your eyes grew to about ten times their usual size, and you smashed a hand over the singer's mouth before deftly grabbing him by the bicep and dragging him somewhere no one could overhear the conversation you were about to have.

Taking a quick glance around, you made sure that no one was around before you yanked open the door to the supply closet and shoved Brendon inside before you yourself climbed in.

"Who the hell told you that?" you demanded, tone quite harsh as you glowered at Brendon.

"Spencer, duh," he replied with a smile.

You facepalmed and let out a moan of anguish. "Oh, why? Why would he do that?" you grumbled. You had been talking mostly to yourself, but Brendon responded.

"We were playing real-life 'Would You Rather' and I gave him the options of either sending a nude to random contact in his phone or telling me a secret he swore he would keep. I think you can guess which one he chose."

"Well, that's just absolutely wonderful!" you chuckled sarcastically, throwing your hands in the air. "Perfect. This is just what I needed."