❝ my chemical romance, panic! at the disco, fall out boy and twentyonepilots imagines. ❞
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄.
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃:...
Note: Okay, a lot of the comments on this chapter say something along the lines of "I don't even like pink streamers" so I just need to clear something up...
The "reader" is this story is not you - it's me. The author.
Just keep that in mind while reading this chapter, my loves. 😂🖤 x
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"Who the fuck bought pink streamers?" Frank asked, pinching the tissue paper between his thumb and index finger as if it were harboring an infectious disease and tossing a disgusted look around the room as he held it up for everyone else to see. "I specifically remember settling on the black ones."
"I did," Ryan frowned, moving to grab the piece of decor from the shorter guy's hand, "and we didn't settle on anything."
Frank narrowed his eyes and tapped a finger against his chin, pretending to think back. "Nope. I'm pretty sure we did."
A scoff sounded from the opposite side of the room, where Ray and Dallon were securing balloons to the wall.
Ray rolled his eyes as he turned to look at his band mate. "You mean you did. None of us even got a word in."
"Black streamers, dudes. We're doing black streamers. We have to do black streamers," Tyler mocked Frank's words from the when the bands had met yesterday, earning a collective chuckle from the rest of the guys. Except Frank, who glared hatefully at everyone who had decided to partake in this sudden unlawful uprising against him.
"Yeah, yeah, screw all of you too," he barked, folding his arms before he turned up his nose, "But she would want black streamers. If any of you dipshits knew her as well as I do, you would know that," he sassed, a confident smirk etched upon his face.
"Actually," Ryan interjected, slightly annoyed at Frank's comment, "if you knew her as well as I do, you would know that she'd love baby pink streamers all the same."
Frank was about to let rip on the younger guy, but was stopped when Andy jumped in.
"She would be fine with either; it doesn't really matter." He took the streamers from Ryan's grip and moved to the nearby wall, where he and Spencer proceeded to drape them.
"Andy's right," Spencer voiced as he tried to work the draping so that it was all symmetrical, "she'll love it regardless. 'Sides," he shrugged and gestured all around the decorated apartment, "almost everything else is black. A little color never hurt anyone."
