"cmon margo we're gonna be late! happy hours are from 8 - 12! we're only in vegas for a week!" my sister, poppy called out as I brushed my brown hair.

"why did you even make me come?" i asked

"so someone can hold back my hair when i puke. duh!"

"how do i look?" i asked as i stepped out of the bathroom in a short black dress with black laced sleeves and loubiton heels i had secretly taken money out of my college fund years ago to pay for.

"amazing. now lets go" poppy said as she walked out in her extremely tight and short bright pink dress and yellow heels.

"you know poppy that's not a very good look. i think maybe you should subsitute the dress for a -" i started but was soon shushed by my older sister, who was stuffing her bra with tissues as soon as we got into the elevator.

"shut up fashionista" she said, rolling her big brown eyes as she adjusted her tacky orange hoop earings. she almost looked like katy perry in that last friday night video.

"what? i'm just trying to help!" i said, opening my compact mirror and applying some dark red lipstick.

the elevator doors opened and we walked out into our flashy hotel and up to the front desk.

"where's the bar?" my sister asked, leaning over the counter and twirling her hair and snapping her mint gum.

"okay 1 i'm gay" the man at the front desk said, pushing my sister back and out of his face, making me laugh. "and two," he picked up a tissue that must have fallen out of her bra "i think you dropped a tissue hun" he said, making me erupt in fits of laughter as my sister walked away.

"i'm sorry about her i-" i was cut off by the boy with the brown hair putting a hand to his chest and gasping dramatically.

"i love your dress!" he said. "it's to die for!"

"thank you!!!" i said, smiling excitedly.

"i'm glad someone here knows fashion. i'm going to nyc fashion school in two months, i'm hoping i won't be surrounded by idiots" he said, smiling.

"so am i!" i said, smiling.

"well looks like i found a friend huh?" he said, smiling brightly and sticking out his hand for me to shake, which i did.

"i'm tyler" he said.

"i'm margo" i said.

"i can already tell i'm gonna be your bestie. this is gonna be great!" he said excitedly and wrote down a series of numbers on a sticky note. he gave me the number and i put it into my phone.

"by the way, the bar is two doors to the left!" he said, winking as i thanked him, smiling, and walked away.

•••

i took a sip of my martini and looked out onto the dance floor where poppy was literally performing a strip show and rolled my eyes.

i saw a somewhat tall guy with blondish hair wearing a jacket that says "THIS IS OUR CULTURE" sat down next to me.

"i'll just have a pepsi" he said in a tired, worn out voice.

i sipped on my drink, my small hands barely able to hold onto the huge glass

"GAS PEDAL GAS PEDAL!" poppy screamed while she danced the same song we would dance to in a crew with a bunch of random people.

"who is that?" the man sitting next to me asked, laughing softly.

"that would be my sister" i said, taking a sip of my drink and watching her.

"yikes" he said.

"yup well, she was always the embarrassing one" i said, laughing slightly and placing my drink on the napkin.

"pete" he said, holding out his hand that was much bigger than mine.

"margo" i said back, shaking it.

"so what brings you to viva las vegas?" pete asked after we shook hands.

"my psycho sister that's what. and you?" i asked.

"i had a show to go to and me and the guys wanted to stop by vegas for a couple nights" he said.

"what? are you a magician or something?" i asked curiously.

"funny" he said, snorting.

"oh my god, you're a stripper?" i asked, spitting out some of my martini back into the cup and laughing.

he started laughing

"i'm on tour with my band doofus!" he said.

"yeah okay" i said, laughing.

"google fall out boy live" he said.

"why?" i asked, taking out my phone that had a case that said " on it. no- i couldn't afford to go but i bought a phone case?

i googled it and there he was, playing in front of thousands of screaming fans.

"i'm famous chica" he said, winking.

"that wink!" i said, laughing. "i feel violated!"

he laughed "don't like that?"

"not about that life" i said, laughing harder.

"what is your life? tell me about yourself margo" he said, now drinking a beer.

"well i'm a wannabe fashion designer. i live in new york and im 22. also, i got into nyc fashion school so im going there in two months" i said, smiling proudly.

"cool." he said, smiling.

"what about you?" i asked even though i somewhat already knew.

"well besides being the bassist in a world famous band, i'm 24, and i also live in new york" he said.

"wow drink to that!" i said, knocking back the rest of my martini. since i was so small, i already had a buzz.

"wow i feel drunk" i said.

pete ordered another beer and chugged it in two seconds "now i'm drunk too"

"twinzies!" i said as we both started hysterically laughing.

"lets get outta here" he said as we stumbled out of the bar.

•••

more and more drinks and shots later we were looking at the bright lights.

"ITS BRIGHT OUT HERE!" i yelled, looking at the vegas lights.

"WHY ARE WE YELLING" he yelled back.

"CAUSE WE ARE ITS VEGAS MOTHERFUCKER!" i screamed.

there was a big light up palm tree.

"ITS ALMOST LIKE A MISTLETOE WANNA MAKE OUT" he asked loudly.

i cut him off by jumping into his arms and kissing him, sloppily and drunkly.

he laughed and we kept making out.

"wanna get married?" he asked, laughing.

"SURE!" i laughed as he carried me to the 'wedding chapel'

•••

"do you pete wentz take margo milani as your wiiiife?" the elvis impersonator asked and pete slid an expensive ring onto my finger.

"fuck yes" he said.

"do YOUUUUU margo milani take pete wentz as your husband?" he asked.

"YES! I LOVE VEGAS!" i screamed at the top of my lungs.

pete and i ran down the isle and outside and screamed to the vegas skyline.

"WERE MARRIED MOTHERFUCKERS!"