#panic live

aesthetic 1 🥀🎬

Once he felt the rubber cord in his hand, he turned back around and plugged it into his phone. “Listen guys, Albert dared me to not listen to a single song that was on the setlist until after the concert. And I’m not giving up anytime soon. So, underrated bops time!” he called before pressing play on his playlist. Within seconds, the entire car, except for Davey, was screaming the words. “OH DON’T YOU WONDER WHEN THE LIGHT BEGINS TO FADE? AND THE CLOCK JUST MAKES THE COLORS TURN TO GRAY?” Suddenly, the car pulled into a lot and stopped. “Are we here?” “No, this is a Barnes and Noble, dumbass,” Spot said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Oh.” Crutchie cut in. “Then why did we stop?” “Two reasons. One: we have two hours to kill. Two: I’m guessing y’all are hungry and I’m not letting you guys pay for expensive arena food,” Davey replied, unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the car. The others followed, leaving most of their belongings in the car. The six of them wandered around for a while before meeting back up at the small cafe part of the store. Spot and Katherine were already seated with Katherine reading a Twenty One Pilots edition of Rocksound and Spot scrolling through his phone with his feet on what was supposed to be Race’s chair. Race was resting his arms on the top of the chair and eating a muffin. Crutchie pulled up another chair as he scanned the aisles below them for any sign of the other two. He could see Hotshot browsing the magazines, probably looking for his own edition of Rocksound. Davey, however, vanished. The mystery of where Davey had gone was quickly solved as about five minutes later, the taller boy came up the stairs and joined the others at the table. “Somehow, not a single issue of Rocksound here covers Panic! At The Disco. Said they’re all out of stock. I tried, guys,” he sighed, sitting back in his chair. Katherine smiled, looking up from her magazine. “Aww, thank you for looking, Davey. That’s really sweet of you!” The five of them talked for a while, Hotshot showing up halfway through their stay with a coffee and a random book. “Guys! It’s 6:35!” Crutchie yelled, almost knocking his chair over as he stood up. “Grab your shit!” That was all that was said before Crutchie took off, Race immediately following after him, determined to get a better seat than before. The six friends piled into Davey’s van minutes later and took off down the road, getting honked at by a few cars who didn’t understand how important it was they got there fast. JANUARY 13TH, 7:09 PM The doors have opened. Thirty minutes of loud singing and near death experiences later (don’t ask), Davey’s van pulled into a parking space outside of the arena guided by a few workers. Spot, Race, Hotshot and Davey climbed out while Crutchie and Katherine seemed to take their time. “Hey, Crutchie?” Katherine asked as the two stepped out. Her hands were fumbling around in her bag, looking for something. A minute later, a lesbian flag appeared, folded up in her hands. Slowly, she held it up and let go of the folds, letting it unfold before her, the bottom barely scraping the pavement. “Can you help me tie this?” Crutchie quickly nodded, grabbing the flag from her hands and walking behind her. Gently, he laid it on her shoulders and then tied the ends around her neck. Loose enough so she wouldn’t struggle to breathe but tight enough so it wouldn’t come undone. “Now that I’ve helped you, can you tie mine?” Crutchie asked, pulling a very folded up pan flag from his jean pocket. “Of course! Come here!” A minute or two later, the two walked up to the venue, smiling widely. After passing through security, they were greeted by the others who were waiting. Other fans pushed past them, trying to get to their seats. “There you two are! Can we please get to our seats now?” Spot asked, surprisingly excited for the concert. Everyone knew Spot liked Panic! but nobody expected him to be super excited or fanboying over them. The car ride to the venue changed that though. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go,” Davey replied, grabbing Race and pulling him along. They slowly counted the numbers above the entrances until they found theirs and headed down the stairs. “WAIT-- we have floor seats?!” Spot exclaimed. Crutchie couldn’t help but laugh. The Spot Conlon fanboying over seats and a band. Of course, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. He was allowed to have interests. But it was a great and hilarious sight. “Yes, I’ve been saving for years. This is going to be the best night of our lives, of course we have great seats!” Crutchie replied, pushing past Davey and leading them down to their seats. The entire stage was in a triangle shape, their symbol. Their seats were on the left side, closer to the stage so they could actually see onto the stage. “We made it!” JANUARY 13TH, 8:55 PM Openers have finished, the clock is counting down. The five stood, watching the arena light up with phone flashlights while hundreds of voices sang along to Africa. If someone had told Crutchie that in two years he’d be crying to Africa at a Panic! At The Disco concert, he would’ve smacked them. But there he was, clinging to Katherine and sobbing. It wasn’t much but to him it was powerful, a whole arena unified by a single interest and joining together for a single song. There would never be another moment like that. He’d never have something like this again. Sure, there’d be another concert, maybe even another Panic! concert, but it would never be exactly the same. The timer on the stage, which only Davey could really see, read 4:59. 4 minutes and 59 seconds until the man who saved him back in middle school would be in front of him, performing songs that kept him going. JANUARY 13TH, 8:59 PM One minute left. The crowd begins chanting and counting down. “Ten!” “Nine!” “Eight!” “Seven!” “Six!” “Five!” “Four!” “Three!” “Two!” “One!” Screams erupt as the arena darkens, a few pale blue spotlights focus on the stage as platforms rise up, the elegant sound of strings following it. “Ode to the old, and to the new, we rededicate this song to you…” Confetti blasts, stretching over the group’s head and falling into the crowd as music blasts.The small display screens built into the stage burst with color. “FUCK A! SILVER LINING!” Surprisingly, Crutchie was screaming FUCK the loudest out of the group. Even Davey looked over at him, his eyes wide. He shrugged it off and continued singing along. Time passed quickly, unfortunately for Crutchie before he knew it, Brendon and his white, flying piano were landing near the stage. It landed half on the stage and right next to the others. Crutchie and Spot both reached out, desperate for at least a handshake. And they got it. A scream came from both boys as their hands were shaken by Brendon before he stepped off the platform and onto the stage. “Holy shit!” Katherine shouted. “You lucky bitches!” A familiar sound then hit Crutchie’s ears. It was the instrumentals to a great, great song. “Guys! Take off your flags!” Spot shouted, fumbling with his own pride flag that was tied around his neck, causing the others to do the same. The screens lit up with every color, the lights above the stage copying them. “AND NEVER DID I THINK THAT I, WOULD BE CAUGHT IN THE WAY YOU GOT ME. PUSH ANOTHER GIRL ASIDE AND JUST GIVE IN…” “GIRLS LOVE GIRLS AND BOYS.” As the chorus kicked in, the group began throwing their flags towards the stage with all their strength. And as the song continued, one by one, they got picked up and draped around Brendon’s neck. Nearly silent screams were exchanged between the group. This was amazing. The best night ever. Although they didn’t say it, it was obvious they felt as though it was a dream. One they hoped would never end. Sadly, the night began to come to an end. The final lines of Victorious rang out through the arena as confetti filled the void it left behind. As the band left the stage and the lights flicked back on, Crutchie felt his heart sink slightly. The best night had ended. Dropping to his knees, he tried to ignore it as he joined the others in scooping up as much confetti as possible and shoving it into their pockets to be sorted into small jars later. The group followed the crowd out into the cold night air, hands all intertwined. Crutchie stared down at the golden piece of confetti in his hands. It had shot out right at the start and he had grabbed it. He twirled it around, trying to still feel the rush of that moment and every moment that followed after that. He was never going to forget this. “Tonight we are victorious, champagne pouring over us. All my friends we’re glorious, tonight we are victorious.”

Brendon.: um alright. *jumps off stage.* by the power invested in me....by the sate of... Panic. I bless your baby? *jumps back on stage * guess im ordained now. Was never very religious, but okay. Youre baby is going to be beautiful.

Panic! at the Disco in Glasgow

P!atD in Boston- Brendan singing “Dying in LA” while flying across the arena on a piano (feat. thousands of cell phone flashlights)