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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Fall Out Boy

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Trick Or Treat
By *FolieBear*

 


“No,” he said sharply as soon as I pulled the invitation out of my pocket. “Absolutely not.”

“Aw, come on Patrick!” I begged, shuffling closer to him on the sofa in my living room. “Why not?”

He raised a thin eyebrow and scoffed. “Rachel, you know damn well why I don't want to go to Pete's Halloween party!” He folded his arms stubbornly. “Every year, Pete…”

I cocked my head to one side, rolling my eyes. “Pulls a prank on you,” I deadpanned, finishing his sentence. “Yeah, yeah, I remember.”

I remember. I still wasn't used to that phrase. Whenever I used those words, it left a tingling sensation on my tongue, and a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

Over a year ago now, I was in a car accident. I had lost a lot of my memories, including all recollection of my boyfriend, Patrick. But he loved me so much, he re-enacted the times with him that I had lost, throughout the remainder of that year. That New Year's, I remembered everything, and things went back to normal. Well, as normal as things can be when you're dating the frontman of a popular band.

“So why bother bring me the invitation in the first place?” he asked. “I do not want a repeat of last year.”

I bit my lip, stifling the laugh that threatened to escape from my throat.

~*=/=/=/=/=/=*~

Patrick leaned against a wall, beer in hand in Pete's living room; he was far too drunk to stand on his own. If he weren't so intoxicated, he might have come to the conclusion that Pete had put something in his drink.

Rachel, who had come in her usual jeans and a black Clandestine T-shirt that Pete had given her, was off chatting with her friends somewhere, and the rest of the guests of Pete's annual Halloween party were dancing and eating. Patrick feared that doing either of those things would result in vomiting.

Pete, however, was not dancing, nor was he eating or talking. He was upstairs, putting on a black Clandestine tee and a wig…

Patrick's vision was blurred from inebriation, but he managed to recognise a familiar brunette that bounced up to him.

“Rachel,” he slurred, a drunken smile at his lips.

“Hey Patrick,” said the individual, whose face was only a few inches from Patrick's.

“Your voice isn't normally that low,” he said, getting the words out slowly, like he had to think very hard about each one. “Are you sick?” The last noun in his sentence was really more of a hiccup than a word.

The brunette in front of Patrick pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him, with a seductive smile. “Patrick,” she whispered, “let's go upstairs.” She quickly raised and lowered her eyebrows on the final word. Patrick squinted in confusion. In his given state, everything she said took some thought to comprehend. “Upstairs,” she repeated with more emphasis, noting his puzzled look. Patrick's eyes widened in realisation. His reply was merely a drunken mumble, but he found himself being taken by the hand and led up the staircase. He tripped over his own feet a couple of times, but somehow Patrick managed to stay upright.

“Rach, you're acting kinda weird,” Patrick slurred once they'd reached the upstairs hallway. “You okay? Have you been drinking or something? You're not twenty-one yet.” She rolled her eyes and swiftly grabbed his shirt, pulling him through the nearest door, slamming it behind them.

She pushed herself up against the wall. Patrick's vision was too blurred to make out the furniture around them, let alone figure out which room he was in. Still struggling to stay upright, he stumbled towards the brunette, who seemed to be giggling almost uncontrollably, and leaned forward to kiss her.

With his eyes closed, and his motoring skills at an all time low, it was no surprise that he missed her mouth and ended up kissing her cheek. However, it was a huge surprise that the girl leaned up against the wall had stubble on her jaw line. There was a sudden flash of white light, and Patrick almost fell over backwards in shock. The adrenaline from this jolt had a sort of sobering affect on Patrick, and his vision became somewhat clearer. He looked in horror at the laughing brown eyes in front of him, and spun around to see Joe in a fit of laughter with a camera in his hands: the source of the flash.

“Pete?” he asked, taking a step back. A familiar grin spread across the man's face as he pulled off his brunette wig. “What the hell?!” he said, looking his friend up and down.

“While I did not enjoy that slobbery kiss,” Pete began, causing Patrick to wipe his mouth on the corner of his sleeve in embarrassment, “that was the best prank ever!” Joe swaggered up to Pete, giving him a high five. At that moment, the door swung open to show a frustrated face that belonged to Patrick's real girlfriend.

“Patrick, I saw you going upstairs with some girl, so I came to see what…” she cut herself off when her eyes drifted to the corner of the room, or more specifically, to Pete, who was wearing an outfit that matched her own exactly, and seemed to have some stuffing on his chest. “What the heck?” she asked, her expression somewhere between confusion and amusement. “Is there something you guys need to tell me?” she asked Joe, who was now red faced and in tears of hilarity. Patrick's head turned from Pete to Rachel, and then back to Pete, who burst out laughing.

“It just gets better!” he laughed, holding his stomach. Patrick's wide eyes looked at Rachel, desperate for to understand what had just happened, although he wasn't so sure himself. He looked back over to Pete and glared at him.

“You can be a real prick sometimes, Pete!” Patrick yelled, with clenched fists and a face red with fury and humiliation. Pete managed to stop laughing, and stared back at his outraged friend. Not for long, however, because it seemed Pete couldn't control himself, and he soon began laughing even harder.

~*=/=/=/=/=/=*~

“I can't believe you thought Pete was me,” I laughed, but felt a little guilty when Patrick's face turned red.

“I was drunk!” he defended with wide eyes.

“So, exactly how far did you two go before you realised he was a dude?” I giggled. He mumbled something incomprehensible. “What did you say?” I asked, knowing that I was really annoying him now.

“I kissed him on the cheek, okay?” he answered in defeat. “Now can we please not talk about this? I'd rather just forget about the whole thing. Not that Pete will ever let me.”

“Clearly,” I said, gawking at the back of the invitation in my hands.

“Oh, God. He didn't?” I passed him the piece of paper and his shoulders sank when he saw the photo that Joe had taken the previous Halloween on the back of the invite. “He did,” he groaned, falling back against the sofa. I pouted at him.

“Maybe he won't do anything stupid this year. Maybe he's learnt his lesson,” I pitched. He looked down at the invitation, then back at me and raised his left eyebrow. “Never mind.”

“I'm not going,” he said, folding his arms.

“Please?” I begged, resting my head on his shoulder. “I really want to go, but I don't want to go without you.”

“Not going,” he repeated stubbornly.

“Why don't I talk to Pete? I'll let him know how hurtful his prank was.”

“Rach, even if he didn't play a prank on me, I still can't show my face there! I'll be a joke!”

“Oh, come on. How many people could possibly know about it? It's not like he put it on the internet or anything.” He raised his brows and the eyes underneath them were filled with annoyance. “He did put it on the internet?” He nodded. “Ouch.”

“Tell me about it,” he sighed. “Look,” he said, slithering his arm around my waist, “we don't have to go to Pete's party. We could just stay here and… have a little party of our own,” he winked. I smiled and kissed him softly.

“As tempting as that sounds,” I said afterwards, grinning cheekily, “I have a much better idea.”

~*=/=/=/=/=/=*~

“So what did you guys need to talk to me about?” Andy asked politely. Rachel and I exchanged amused smirks, wondering how he would react to our plan.

“Well,” started Rachel, a sly grin at her glossed lips, “you know that every Halloween, Pete plays some kind of crazy prank on Patrick?” Andy nodded. “And how last year, he went a little far?”

“Yeah? And?”

“This year, things are gonna be a little different,” she explained.

“Revenge,” I said with fake malice, “will be sweet indeed.”

“So why are you telling me this?” he asked apprehensively.

Rachel's grin grew wider in amusement. “We want your help to get back at Pete.”

“I'm all for it!” he smiled. “What do you need me to do?”

Rachel raised her hand to her mouth and giggled.

“Well, we were planning on doing to Pete pretty much exactly what he did to me last year,” I explained.

“Go on,” Andy said sceptically.

“And we're gonna need you to dress up as a girl,” I continued, barely holding back laughter.

“You what?!” he asked, his voice somewhere between laughter and terror. “Why me? Why not Joe?”

“Because we're getting back at him as well!” laughed Rachel. “He was helping Pete last year, so he deserves to be pranked as well!”

“You've got to be kidding!” he said, flailing his hands. “And I'm guessing you want me to kiss him or something?”

“No, we just need you to flirt with him and get him close to kissing you!” answered Rachel. “You can stop him when he starts going too far.”

“I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I'm gonna be pretty unconvincing as a woman. I have a beard for God's sake!”

“It's a costume party this year,” I cut in. “You can just wear a mask.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You guys are actually serious about this, aren't you?” Rachel and I nodded. “I can't believe I'm saying this,” he said, massaging his forehead, “but okay, I'll do it.”

“Thank you so much, Andy!” Rachel gushed. “This is gonna be great!”

“Hold up a minute,” interrupted Andy. “Knowing Pete, he's already thinking of some hair-brained scheme to annoy Patrick. How are we gonna stop him?”

“Oh, I got it,” Rachel answered as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She found Pete's number and pressed the call button, gesturing for us to be quiet as she put the phone on speaker.

“Rach!” said Pete after a few rings. “How's it going?”

“I'm great Pete! Hey, I was just calling to ask what awesome prank you've got planned for Patrick this year.”

“Well, actually, I've been having some trouble trying to think of something to top last year's trick. Even my amazing, evil mind is starting to lack ideas.”

Patrick rolled his eyes at his friend's cocky attitude.

“Well, I have a great prank in mind, if you're okay with me taking the wheel this year.”

“Oh really?” Pete asked. “And what is this `great prank' you speak of?”

“I can't tell you that, Pete! I can't risk you telling Patrick! Besides, it'll be much funnier for you if it's a surprise.”

Pete sighed. “It's like I'm passing on the family business,” he said, pretending to choke back tears. “Okay, Rach. You can play the prank this year. It'd better be good.”

“Trust me, Pete,” she turned and winked at me, “you'll never forget it.”

~*=/=/=/=/=/=*~

“I'm thinking of changing my mind guys,” Andy said in a nervous tone.

It was only about an hour until the party, and Rachel had come over to my place to help prepare Andy for the prank. He started having second thoughts when Rachel showed him the outfit we'd gotten for him.

“I didn't think you'd actually make me wear a dress. Why can't I just wear jeans or something?”

“Because then there's more of a risk of Pete noticing… uh…” My eyes darted downwards for a second, and quickly back up to his face. “Well, that.”

“Oh, the curses of being so unbelievably masculine,” he sighed. Rachel just shook her head.

“Says the man with the dress,” she muttered.

“Hey! Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry,” she answered, trying not to laugh. “By the way, you're gonna need to wear stockings as well.”

“What?”

“Well otherwise we're gonna have to wax your legs!”

“Stockings it is.”

Rachel pulled a pair of thick, black and purple striped stockings out of the `bag of goodies' that she had brought with her and threw them at Andy.

“Go put the outfit on,” she instructed, and he headed into the bathroom to change. “I feel a little mean making Andy do this,” she admitted to me with a sheepish smile.

“You'll feel better once we've gotten back at Pete,” I said, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. “Thank you for helping me with this.” I kissed her on the cheek and her head fell back onto my shoulder.

“That's okay. Anything for revenge,” she laughed. A moment passed. “So, that `party of our own' you mentioned the other day; there's no reason why we can't do that after getting back at Pete,” she said, biting her lower lip.

“Ahem,” coughed Andy, who had emerged from the bathroom. “I'm standing right here.”

Rachel and I separated quickly, blushing. It's not that we were ever embarrassed of our relationship, we just didn't act too romantically when around friends, so they wouldn't feel uncomfortable. It was kind of like being caught doing something we weren't supposed to. Our shock subsided quickly though, at the sight of a very annoyed looking Andy wearing a witch costume, composed of a grey shirt with sleeves that flared out at the ends (to cover his tattoos), a baggy, black dress with a torn hem that rested just below the knee, the stockings Rachel had just given him, a pair of black flats (Rachel had given up on teaching him to walk in high heels), and a heavily stuffed bra underneath.

Rachel's face lit up. “Perfect,” she said, an evil grin crossing her face.

“Not quite,” I argued, picking the cheap, latex witch mask up off the table against the wall and pulling it over Andy's head. “There ya go.”

“Please tell me this is all?” he pleaded through the vents in the mask.

“Almost. We still have to do your hair and nails,” Rachel answered.

Andy groaned loudly. “Am I getting paid for this?” he asked as Rachel dug through her seemingly bottomless bag.

“I'll buy you a beer,” I laughed.

“Damn straight.”

Rachel pulled a hair straightener and a brush from her bag with a triumphant expression and pulled up a chair for Andy to sit on. She plugged in the straightening device to heat it up, pulled off Andy's mask, and began brushing through his brown tangles.

“When was the last time you combed this mess, Andy?” she asked, struggling to pull the knots from his locks. “Patrick, would you try and brush his hair for me?” I nodded and took the brush from her. She then lifted Andy's hand and inspected his nails. “You haven't given me much to work with,” she said, examining the dirty, stubby fingernails.

“I'm sorry, I haven't had a manicure in a while,” he remarked.

“Looks like we're gonna need the fake nails,” sighed Rachel.

“Oh God,” he groaned. “Ouch!” he yelped as I pulled out a particularly tough knot.

“Sorry,” I chuckled. Andy grunted. He then moaned as if in pain as Rachel put each fake nail on his fingers.

“Stop being such a girl,” I laughed, the irony clear in my voice. He turned his head and gave me a murderous look before slowly turning back around.

“I look like the freaking Wolf Man!” he exclaimed when he saw his fingers. “I can't believe I agreed to this!”

“I think he needs to work on his voice. Rach, would you agree?” I asked as Rachel started to run the straightener through Andy's hair.

“Absolutely,” she agreed.

Andy rolled his eyes. “Oh, Peter, you look ever so dashing this evening,” he said in a painful falsetto, dramatically batting his eyelids.

“Come on, man, you can do better than that!” I pushed. “Even I can do better. Listen.” I flipped my hair back girlishly. “So that Patrick guy,” I said in my most feminine voice, resting my right hand on Rachel's shoulder, “isn't he just the cutest?” I pretended to giggle hysterically, triggering a laughing fit from Rachel. “You see, Andy?” I said, dropping back down to my normal tone. “She agrees. I can act feminine and still be a very desirable male. Now you try.”

“Oh, that Andy Hurley is so muscular,” he said in a voice almost as convincing as mine. “He's always tapping those drums, but I wish he'd tap something of mine…”

“Okay, dude, you can stop there, that's good enough,” Rachel quickly interrupted. “Have you got the time, Trick?”

I glanced at my watch. “Party starts in about ten minutes.”

“Okay, let's go.”

~*=/=/=/=/=/=*~

“You got the camera?” I asked Rachel before we left the car.

“Yup.”

“Awesome, let's go. Come on, Andy.”

With the mask and costume on, Andy did make a pretty convincing girl. We got out of the car and started walking down the street towards Pete's house, and we could already hear the pounding music and the loud cheering and talking of the guests. We stopped in front of the house for the final briefing.

“Okay Andy, you know what you have to do?” I asked.

“I go in and flirt with Pete and Joe, I get Pete upstairs where you'll be waiting with a camera, and take the mask off when Pete goes too far.”

“And what happens before all that?” I asked, making sure that the plan couldn't possibly go wrong.

“You give Pete a spiked drink,” he answered, gesturing towards the bottle of strong vodka in my hand, “and I wait for you to give me the signal to put the plan into action.”

“And what don't you do in the meantime?”

“I don't talk to Pete or go too near him.”

“Okay, let me hear the voice,” Rachel instructed.

“Hi Pete, how's it goin'?” he said in an effeminate voice.

“And how do girls stand?”

Andy put his hands behind his back and his legs together, his head cocked to the side.

Rachel raised her hand to her mouth. “It's like you're my little sister all grown up! I'm so proud!”

“Okay, whatever, let's just get this thing over with.”

The three of us walked up to the door and I rang the bell. It was opened almost immediately by Pete, his grin revealing the fangs he wore.

“Patrick! Rach! And…” His gaze shifted to Andy. “Who's that under the mask?”

“Oh, um, this is my friend… uh…” Rachel and I quickly shared panicked glances. We hadn't thought of a name. “Candy!” she grinned, pleased with her invention. I could tell that Andy was cringing under his mask.

“Hi there, Candy,” Pete said, shaking `her' hand politely. When he didn't reply, Pete raised an eyebrow. “Does she speak?” he asked Rachel rather bluntly.

“Oh, she just has a really sore throat,” Rachel lied. “She's got a lozenge though, so she'll be feeling better later on.”

“Well I can't wait until then,” he said, smiling keenly at `Candy.' “Come in!”

We entered the house, the loud music practically shaking the room.

“So what're you two supposed to be?” he asked us. “It's fancy dress! Why are you guys dressed so normally?”

“Oh, we're dressed as some pretty scary people,” I said in a suddenly serious tone, winking at Rachel.

“Yes, we're your worst nightmare…” she added.

“We're Patrick and Rachel!” we said simultaneously, contorting our faces in faux horror.

Pete was clearly not amused. “Really? That's the best you can do?” He rolled his eyes. “Try not to hang with these two all night, Candy,” he said to Andy. “They'll cramp your style.” Andy nodded. “I like your tights by the way,” he complimented. Andy raised his hand and waved the compliment off. Pete grinned and pulled Rachel off somewhere.

“Dude, he's not even drunk yet and he likes you!” I laughed. Andy punched me lightly in the arm. Rachel returned with and amused smirk. “What did Pete want?” I asked.

“He wanted to check that everything was ready for the prank,” she chuckled.

“Okay then, let's get to it! You two stick together, I'll give Pete his drink.”

“Good luck, Trick.”

I nodded and forged my way through the throng of party-goers, occasionally greeting someone I knew, and eventually found my way to the bathroom. A little privacy was needed for this, seeing that what I was doing was technically illegal. All in the name of a good prank though, right? I fumbled through my pocket and found the pack of pills. An evil grin spread across my face as I crushed the Viagra between my fingers, watching the bluish powder fall into the opened bottle. I replaced the cap quickly and shook the bottle up, the sediments dissolving in the liquid. I did my best to wipe the grin from my face and left the bathroom, drink in hand.

Once again, I pushed my way through the crowd and found Pete talking to a group of costumed people.

“Pete!” I greeted. “I got you a drink.”

He smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Trick, but I was gonna try not to drink this year, so I'm still sane when…” he paused, “if something interesting happens.” I knew he was referring to the prank that he thought Rachel was going to pull on me. Boy, was he going to be in for a surprise.

“Aw, you're no fun! Come on, just one drink.”

“No, I really shouldn't.”

“Oh really? Well maybe you're just too scared to admit that you can't handle your vodka,” I challenged him with a cocky expression. The people who had been talking to Pete erupted into a chorus of `ooh's.

“Give me that,” he said, snatching the bottle from my hand. He removed the cap and raised the bottle to his lips, chugging down the liquid with the crowd egging him on. He quickly downed the entire bottle, and the group around him and I cheered. He already looked more than a little drunk, squinting a little and a mouth hanging open a little. “That's why you should never challenge Peter Wentz!” he said triumphantly.

“Oh, you win,” I said, pretending to be disappointed. At his disadvantage, I knew Pete. He could make anything into a competition. “Well, I'll see you later,” I finished with a smile, turning and walking back to where I had left Rachel and Andy.

“How'd it go?” asked Rachel as soon as she saw me.

“Great, he chugged the whole bottle!”

“What did you put in his drink, anyway?” she asked.

“Viagra,” I answered, cringing a little.

“Aw, fuck,” mumbled Andy, shaking his head.

I chuckled at his misfortune. “Sorry, dude.”

“What would my mom say?” he laughed.

“Okay, so it'll take about twenty minutes for the Viagra to kick in, and he's already a little drunk, so go talk to him. Oh, and don't forget to flirt with Joe a little too!”

“Yeah, I know the freakin' plan,” he muttered. “If you tell anybody about this, I swear…” he mumbled to himself as he walked off into the crowd.

“Let's go set up the camera,” suggested Rachel. I nodded, and we headed up the stairs.

We received a few looks, and even a wolf whistle from people who thought we were going upstairs for… other reasons. Rach just rolled her eyes. “Men,” she scoffed.

We entered Pete's bedroom and set the camera on the bed, which we planned to hide behind when Pete and Andy arrived.

“What're we gonna do for the next quarter hour?” Rachel asked.

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “We might as well go downstairs for a little while and see what Candy's getting up to.”

So we descended the stairs and quickly ran into Joe, who was looking very lost.

“Hey, Patrick. Hey, Rach. Have you seen that girl Candy? I think she likes me, and I wanna make a move.”

Rachel and I stared at each other for a quick moment, mouths gaping, before Rachel turned and rested her hand on Joe's shoulder. “Sorry man, but I think she's talking to Pete.”

Joe's shoulders stooped and he looked genuinely disappointed. Was Joe drunk, or was Andy just a really good actor? “Okay, thanks guys.” He wandered off to the corner and took a seat, tracing the cap of his beer can with his fingertip.

“Wow,” sighed Rach. “This is kind of worrying.”

“Very. Let's see how Pete's going.” I grabbed her hand so we wouldn't get separated, and we made our way over to the corner where we had last seen Pete, and, surprise surprise, he had more beer and was hitting on Candy. Andy was pretty tough to be put through that and survive.

“Looks like they're doing just fine!” laughed Rachel. “We might as well wait upstairs.”

And so we did. We sat on the side of the bed farthest from the door and talked quietly, so we could hear for footsteps outside. Eventually, those sounds did come, and the door was flung open by an apparently sex-crazed Pete, who pushed `Candy' up against the wall, his hands on her chest. I suddenly decided that the scene would be much better on film, and I switched the digital camera into video mode and started recording.

Pete's left hand slid up to the latex mask covering Andy's face, and in what looked like slow motion, he unveiled Andy's face. Pete's expression was priceless. First, his eyes grew wider than I had ever seen them, they looked as large as golf balls. His mouth opened with a terrified shriek.

“Oh my God!” he screamed, backing away from Andy, and tripping over his own feet in doing so, falling to the ground.

“This was not my idea, okay!” said Andy, reaching inside his top to remove the stuffed bra, holding it from the strap in disgust and dropping it on the ground.

“Andy! What the hell?”

“And that's a wrap!” I laughed, standing up from behind the bed, scaring Pete further. “Thanks for your help, Andy.”

“Whatever.”

“Will somebody tell me what the fuck is going on?!” yelled Pete. His jaw dropped suddenly in realisation when I didn't answer. “This was a prank? Rachel was supposed to be playing a prank on you! What the hell?”

“Actually,” Rachel said, standing up, “I never said who I was going to prank.”

He shook his head when he saw the camera in my hand. “Dude, don't put this on the internet. Please.”

“Why not? You put my pictures on the net.”

“You did this for revenge?” he asked. I nodded. “That's crazy!”

“So is the way you act every Halloween, Pete! Every year you play a stupid prank on me, and humiliate me in front of everyone!” I shook my head and sighed. “Pete, I won't post this on the internet if you promise not to do any more idiotic practical jokes. Okay?”

Pete sighed and stood up. “Okay, Trick. I'm sorry. I just wish you could've told me all that before you went and did this!” He shuddered. “This is gonna haunt me forever.”

“You're not the only one,” remarked Andy, his arms folded. “Can you bring me my clothes please?”

“Sure,” I chuckled. “They're in the car.”

“Wait!” interrupted Rachel. “What about Joe?”

“You got back at him too?” asked Pete.

“Yeah, and it isn't going to work unless Joe knows that `Candy' was actually Andy.”

“I am not going down there in girls' clothes!” argued Andy.

“Don't worry, I'll just text him and tell him to come upstairs,” said Patrick, retrieving his cell phone from his pocket.

A couple of minutes later, there was a knock on the bedroom door. Andy opened the door, shaking his head. Joe's eyes were as wide as Pete's had been. “Sorry, Joe, you're just not my type,” said Andy, before shutting the door in his friend's face.

~*=/=/=/=/=/=*~

A/N: Hello, my darling readers! I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything in ages! I've been really busy, but I've also been planning another story.

I want to give a huge thanks to Sassy, who came up with so many of the ideas for this one shot and was, as usual, a huge help! *applauds*

So… what did you think? Did you miss Rachel? (Even though she hasn't really been gone for too long!) I was actually thinking of writing a sequel to Memories sometime in the future, if you're interested. Feedback?

Was it too cheesy? Too creepy? Sorry it's not particularly amazing, I wrote most of it at 2am!

Pretty please review?

Sarah xx

 

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