Spencer knows it's irresponsible. He didn't tell his manager where he was going, he turned off his location, and he's not texting any of the guys back when they asked where he went. This has happened a few times before, but it's kind of not good that he's gone right now, when the band is supposed to be leaving and driving to a new state in a few hours.

He just needed a moment of peace, of calm through the chaotic storm that is his life. He's wearing a disguise, anyway... kind of. A hat, shades, and clothes that look unlike him. Good enough.

He was sitting at the bar, nursing his drink, when he met you. You sat down beside him and he instantly assumed that you were a fan and wanted a picture, but you simply ordered a drink and spoke to him like he was a normal person. He spoke back, hesitantly at first, telling you his name, but he couldn't see a single bit of recognition in your eyes. You really didn't know who he was. And he loved it. He engaged in real conversation with you, enjoying every second of it, because finally, he was having a talk with someone who was unbiased, who he didn't have to worry about being used by.

But, of course, that fantasy world of just the two of you was burst quite quickly when a girl in the crowded bar caught his eye and literally screamed his name, getting the attention of everyone in the bar. Great. He threw his shades back on his face and planned to bolt with a rushed goodbye to you, but against his better judgment, he grabbed your arm, pulling you along with him out of the bar. You were obviously confused but you followed him anyway as he hurried you towards his car.

"I'll drive you to your car later, I promise," he says in a breathless laugh, starting the car quickly as a hoard of girls tapped on the windows, shouting.

"What's going on?" You ask, your eyes wide as you stare at the girls that he has to maneuver around to get out of the parking spot and onto the road.

"I'm in a band," he says, as if that'll answer all questions.