A/N LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT THIS LOW QUALITY PICTURE OF PATRICK'S HAIR FLOWING IN THE WIND.

Patrick Stump winning Best Vocalist at the APMAs is one of the best things I've seen for the past few months.

*ahem*

Lots of time skips up ahead.

You were hastily pacing back and forth in your hotel room. The guys went out to explore the Louvre an hour ago, only allowing you to stay because you said you were feeling kinda sick, which of course, is a lie. Patrick and Andy offered to stay, but you shooed them away, saying that you didn't want them to get 'sick'.

But in reality, you didn't them to see you panicking. You knew you couldn't work in this state. Taking a look at your painting, you decided it was finished.

You called your client, telling him that the painting is completed.

. . . . .

" What do you think? "

Your client stood directly in front of the painting with a stoic face, which kinda worried you. He studied it more and the left corner of his mouth went up a bit, " Its perfect. "

You immediately let out a sigh of relief, " Oh thank god. "

" Were you nervous? " he asks, pouring in a drink and giving it to you.

" You have no idea. " you say before taking a sip.

A few seconds later, your head start to feel light. You glance at the drink in your hand, realising that you should have taken notice of the bubbles.

Your client smirked even more as you stubbled to the exit, dropping the cup. The shattering noise echoed in the room, irritating your head. Your mind was slowly slipping away and your vision blurred until you were finally succumbed to darkness.

The man called for two other men to drag you away as he grabbed his phone and made a call, " Its done. "

" Good work, Clancy. " a raspy voice answered him, " You'll have your money after you've done what's needed. "

The recipient hangs up immediately and your client, now known as Clancy, places his phone back in his pocket as he takes another good look at your painting.

He unveils an unsettling smile as he removes the painting from the standing just so he could keep it for himself.

. . . . .

" I don't like this, " Patrick said, pacing back and forth in front of the other three, who is currently sitting on the your bed, " She should have been back by now. "

" I'm sure she's just out celebrating after another successful painting. " Joe says, trying to reassure himself and the guys.

" Joe, its nearly 1 in the morning. " Andy said, " I don't think she's that kind of person to stay out this late, especially in a place she's not familiar with. "

" Good point. "

Pete stood up from the bed to side with Patrick, " But what if she has been taken away? "

The guys looked at each other in silent agreement before making a dash towards the door, but that stopped dead in their tracks when they opened the door.

They saw you lying unconscious in the floor.

Patrick gasped and immediately gestured the other three to carry you to the bed. And in the process of doing so, Pete noticed a small gauze on the left side of your neck.

. . . . .

It was just past noon when your fingers twitched, trying to lift your hand to your head but some form of weight held it down. Slowly, you open your eyes, flinching slightly because of the sudden light from the sun. You hold your other hand to block it out as you glance at your side.

There, you saw Patrick's tuft of hair across your hand and wrist. You gently shook him awake with her free hand and he stirred slightly.

" Hey . . . " he says groggily before his eyes widen once he got a good look at you, " Hey! Are you alright? What happened to you? "

You laughed dryly, " Yeah, I'm fine. Why'd you ask? " you say, looking around, " Where are the guys? "

" The guys are just outside. Hold on, let me call them. " he said, moving towards the door but you grabbed his wrist.

" Patrick, " you look at him in an almost pleading way, " What happened? "

" Just . . . let me call the guys and we'll explain it all to you. "

You sigh, nodding right after and Patrick slowly stood up and walked towards the door. Seconds later, you hear muffled voices that obviously belonged to the guys. You sit up on you bed, since you are too groggy to actually stand up properly.

" You alright now? " Pete asks as he walks towards you and kneels on your bedside after opening the door.

" Yeah. Now can you please just tell me what happened. "

And they did.

Though it took you a while to process the whole thing. You figured you were drugged, since you were told about the small gauze on your neck, which is now nonexistent.

None of these didn't seem to add up to you. You don't remember screwing up so bad that it made someone drug you. Hell, you don't even remember doing a painting.

. . . . .

" We should take her with us on tour next month. " Pete says, grabbing his suitcase.

" I agree. She's fun to be with. " Joe said, grabbing his luggage along with Andy, who nods his head in agreement.

" Oh, I couldn't possibly - " you start, but Patrick cuts you off, " But why not? We love hanging out with you. Don't you love hanging out with us? " he tries to persuade you more by giving you a cute sad face.

You take a good long look at his face, mentally cursing at his adorableness, before muttering a 'fine'.

Patrick nearly squeals like a child as he skips across the airport, " Yay! (Y/n) and Brendon are going with us on tour! "

" Wait just a minute. " you pause, looking at Pete intently, who is grinning at your reaction, " Brendon Urie from Panic! At The Disco is going with us on tour?! "