You saw the magazines. The headlines. Patrick Stump was the David Bowie of '94. He strutted on the stages, danced and shouted and singed as loud as he could. He had something special. Just like his predecessor.

And being a young adult, of course you got sucked into it. The Stump mania in the media. You were the biggest fucking fan. And it showed, as you stood at the barricade of his show.

It was amazing. He moved like no other, did crowd work like no other. He was like god reborn. But he didn't talk to you. Until Allie. One of his hits. He did a piece of crowd work he did at every show. Where he sung the most sensual and sexual song to a member of the crowd.

He crouched on the stage and leaned over as he belted the chorus, reaching towards your hand, beckoning for you to give it to him, as he sung. Looking at you like he was in love. Oh my god, was this real?

"But I wonder if I'd be so good, if I- saw you again!