Disclaimer: I don't know anybody. I don't own anything. None of this ever happened.

Author's Note: This is two first for me - writing a bandom fic and genderbending a real person. Andy, please forgive me. I don't know how Andy joined the band; I just went off what little details I knew. Please forgive me if I got something wrong. Also, in my head, girl!Andy looks like Amber Benson, who played Tara on Buffy. A big thank you to seimaisin for the beta.


She knew it was a bad idea. Dinner with a former bandmate, much less an ex was a terrible, terrible idea. Yet, Andie Hurley sat across the table from Pete Wentz against her better judgement.

'What really sucks is he's still hot,' she thought as she stabbed her fork into a menacing piece of lettuce.

Pete leaned across the table. "You're probably wondering why I asked you to dinner, right?"

Andie peered at him over the top of her glasses. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"Well, Joe and I started a new band. We don't have a name yet, but we're going to do pop-punk songs instead of hardcore ones, and I thought, 'Who's the best drummer I know?' And you were the first person I thought of." Pete was excited. Andie could tell by how fast the words poured out of his mouth.

"You want me to drum in a pop-punk band?" Andie asked, arching an eyebrow.

Pete smiled that devastatingly charming smile of his. "Well, yeah. It'll be fun."

Andie set her fork on her plate, adjusted her glasses, and crossed her arms over her chest. "You want me, who doesn't listen to pop music, to drum in a pop-punk band?" She leaned forward. "Have you lost your fuckin' mind?"

Pete's smile never faltered. "Oh, come on. It'll be fun."

"No." Andie picked up her fork, speared another piece of lettuce, and put it in her mouth.

"Andie, you're the best drummer I know."

Andie shook her head, strands of her reddish-brown curls falling loose from her ponytail. "No, I'm not selling out."

"You wouldn't be selling out. Lars Ulrich didn't call it selling out."

Andie aimed her fork at him. "You leave him out of this or I will stab you where you sit, Wentz." Nobody, but nobody, messed with Lars. Dammit, she knew she shouldn't have told Pete about her crush on the Metallica drummer, even if he did cut his glorious hair. Fact was he was the reason she picked up the drumsticks in the first place while most girls she knew took ballet lessons.

Pete backed away, his hands held up in surrender. "Okay, okay, just think about it."

"My answer will still be no."

Pete chuckled. "Come on, Andie, when have you known me to take 'no' for an answer?"

Andie sighed. "Never."


A year or so later, Andie hadn't give anymore thought to Pete's new band. She had heard about them playing around town, under the name Fall Out Boy, but she never got around to see them.

Then one night Andie found herself wondering about Pete's band. Racetraitor was defunct, and for the first time in her life, Andie was contemplating life without drumming. It wasn't an appealing thought. Maybe she should have taken Pete up on his offer.

She glanced up at the poster of Lars hanging above her entertainment center. No, she wasn't going to sell out. No way, no how. She almost had herself convinced when the phone rang.


"Andie, hey! Long time, no hear from," Pete crowed into her ear.

'Man, he's like a bad penny,' she thought. She kept her thought to herself and simply said, "And how are you, Pete?"

"Good, good. Listen. Our drummer is planning to quit, and I thought, 'Who's the best drummer I know?'"

Andie banged her forehead on the arm of the couch. "You already gave me this speech, remember? I said no."

A long pause came from Pete's end of the phone. "Oh, okay. I was hoping you'd changed your mind."


"But, Andie, you're the best." He drew "best" out in a whine. "I know we could make it big with you on the drums. And you'll love the music our lead singer writes. This kid is amazing. He's only eighteen, but he's got so much talent."

"I'm sure."

"Tell you what. Come out and see us tonight. Meet Patrick and see what you think."

"I don't know," Andie hedged. Truth was she couldn't think of any reason not to. She looked back at her poster of Lars, his hair and drumsticks swinging wildly. "Okay," she finally agreed. Pete gave her the name of the club and the time before they hung up.

She glared at the poster. "I hope you know I'm doing this for you," she snarled at it.


Andie couldn't argue with the atmosphere. Hordes of teenagers and college kids filled the tiny club like packed sardines. They chatted to each other, their voices mingling into a cacophony of noise. Andie nodded to a few people she knew and said hello to a several others as she made her way through the crowd to the edge of the stage. Selecting a spot, she stood off to the side and waited.

Within a few minutes, she saw Pete and Joe saunter on stage with some guy she didn't know heading to the drums. Then a fourth guy joined them. He was short and young with red hair under a baseball cap and carrying a guitar. The redheaded guy stepped up to the middle mic.

Andie smirked. 'Don't tell me this tiny, little guy is their lead singer,' she thought. 'This ought to be good.'

Pete greeted the crowd, and they responded wildly. Andie chuckled. Pete always was the showman. Then they started to play.

Andie lifted an eyebrow. The music wasn't bad. It was a little bit pop, a little bit punk, with a very melodic undertone. She bounced her head to the drums, which she was surprised to discover was more than just keeping the beat. Then the young guy opened his mouth and sang.

Andie's jaw dropped. His voice wasn't whiny or nasally like some of the other recent bands she'd heard. Instead, it was a pure, if rough, tenor. She liked it. She really, really liked it. And then something strange happened. The kid seemed to transform before her eyes. Instead of the shy geek she observed a moment ago, he became almost beautiful. She suppressed the urge to squeal with the other girls in the crowd. How degrading.

After the set was over, Andie drifted backstage. Pete was the first one to spot her, and his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Hey!" Setting down his bass, he hugged her. "It's good to see you."

"Andie! My girl!" Joe grabbed her from behind and lifted her 5'3" frame off the ground.

"Put me down, Joe, or you're going to be limping," she threatened, her foot poised to kick him.

Joe set her down.

She turned around and hugged him, smiling. She then stepped back, looking him over. "Good to see your limbs are catching up with the rest of your body."

Joe waved her off. "So, you're gonna join our band?"

"I haven't made any decisions yet."

When she felt an arm snake around her shoulders, she turned to meet Pete's sparkling brown eyes. His other arm was around the young lead singer, whose face was as red as his hair.

"Andie, this is Patrick, the guy who writes all the music. 'Trick, this is Andie, one of the best drummers you'll ever hear."

Patrick grinned. "I know who you are. I've seen you drum before. You're incredible."

"Thanks." For the first time in her life, Andie felt her face burn. Dear Lord, he was adorable. Absolutely adorable. She ran a hand through her hair, which she left hanging loose that night. She prayed no one had noticed her extremely girly reaction to Patrick, even though she could've sworn her heart would pound out of her chest.

Andie wasn't that lucky. She saw Pete's grin widen, and she knew he had caught her blush. Damn, wasn't there anything she could hide from Pete? He dropped his arm from her shoulders.

"You know, I think I'm going to find some food." He headed for the door. "Joe, come on, man."

Joe shrugged and followed, leaving Andie and Patrick alone.

At that moment, Andie wondered if she could get away with stabbing Pete with his bass and leaving him in the back alley. She knew what he was doing, and she didn't much like it.

Patrick hooked his thumbs in his pocket. "So, Pete said you were joining the band?" he asked.

She leaned against the wall. "I haven't said yes yet."

"Oh. Well, I hope you do." Patrick became very interested in his shoe laces.

"You do?"

He met her eyes. God, could one person's be that green? Suddenly, Andie felt her own hazel eyes were dull and boring.

"Yeah, I'd love to hear you playing my music." His face grew red again.

Andie smiled. "I'd like to play your music." Oh, shit, was she flirting? She could not be flirting. Andie Hurley did not flirt. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. Shit, it was over now.

Before she could explain herself, Pete burst into the room, his arms loaded with chips and drinks. Joe followed him.

"So," Pete grinned. "What do you say? Will you be our new drummer?"

Andie looked from Pete's mischievous grin to Joe's hopeful face to finally Patrick's adorable green eyes. She had heard good music that night; plenty of people had come to see them. And she could drum ten times better than the guy they had. Who knew? With Patrick's talent, Pete's business savvy, Joe's guitar riffs, and her drumming, they might actually make money with this band. She smiled, her eyes never leaving Patrick's.

"I'm in."

Pete and Joe cheered while Patrick simply grinned. Deep down, Andie knew Lars would be proud of her.


© 2008 Crimson Idealist