Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Just a lost cause.
Breathe Cassidy. Inhale. Exhale.
That’s it. You can do this; I had to remind myself over a thousand times as my feet itched closer and closer to the front doors of the Decaydance office. “No, I can’t.” I panicked and quickly staggered backwards until I hit something that made an ‘oof’ sound. Wait. I hit something. Shit.
Without even thinking I quickly turned around to see what God could only possibly show me as a sign that I was headed down the wrong path. A huge omen. Like he was standing right in front of me with a huge lit up and flashing neon sign that read ‘get the hell out of here while you still have feet.’ Mr. Peter Lewis-Kingston Wentz the third, lying on the ground with three other men that I quickly recognized as the rest of Fall Out Boy not too far behind, suppressing laughter. Yeah, this had to be God trying to tell me to get the hell out of there. Either that, or he just loved to watch me make a fool of myself.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry.” My apologizes almost sounded foreign to my ears as I blabbed over and over again about how sorry I was, and held out my hand to help him up. He was not too happy though, I would say, as he slapped my hand away and stood up with a glare in his eyes.
“Watch where you’re going next time.” His words were dark, harsh and sharp. I had no clue what else to say or do except kept my mouth shut and bow my head as he stormed off, the other three men that followed close behind just shook their heads, no longer amused. The ginger-head I quickly recognized as the lead singer of the band, Patrick Stump, stayed behind and patted my shoulder. His words eased me a little as he spoke.
“Don’t take his words to heart, he’s just a little…” he paused for a second, I guess to search for the right words to say. “He’s just PMSing.” His light laughter made me smile and I nodded. Before I could reply to him though, he was up ahead of me, and inside the building on the other side of the glass doors.
Breathe Cassidy.
I told myself again and took a deep breath. I felt like a hopeless cause. There was no way I could go through this interview now, especially after knocking the guy flat on his arse. No, there was surely no way I would get the job now. I was then reminded of my mother who was lying in a cold hospital bed, going through those chemotherapy treatments that I only knew she couldn’t afford. I had to get through this, if not for me, for her. I had nothing to lose anyway right? Well, I did have my dignity. I was sure that even if I did get hired, I would quickly lose that. I heard some major horror stories of some of the people who accepted this job, but still it was either this or back to Starbucks part time and working my ass off in school. (& let me tell you one thing, I can’t stand school. I only stuck with it because its what my mom would have wanted.)
I had to do it. I would accept whatever fate came to me from this. If I wasn’t hired, well then I would stick it out in medical school and become a nurse. If I do get hired, I guess I’m going to find out if any of these horror stories are true. I took one more deep breath just for good measure and took the plunge, put my fears behind me and stepped inside the building. My eyes searched around me and landed on those of a in-humanly beautiful blonde sitting behind a desk, which I assumed, was the front desk. My feet felt heavy, like they were trying to hold me back. I had to be strong though.
You can do this Cassidy.
When I reached the desk, the blonde looked at me with a twinge of disgust. I wasn’t sure why, but I immediately got the feeling she didn’t like something about me.
You can do this. (yes, I know, it’s getting repetitive. But haven’t you heard for Thomas the train? I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.)
“Can I help you?” She asked with such attitude that made my skin crawl. I always hated the whiny girls, the ones who thought that “Paris Hilton Chic” was in (you know, puking up any real food and picking at salads), said the word ‘like’ about thirty times in every sentence, and doesn’t know that there are any of colors of the color spectrum other then pink. Yeah, this woman was definitely one of those girls.
“Yes, I have an interview with Mr. Wentz.” I answered simply. She eyed me for a moment and then clicked away on her computer before looking back up at me.
“You’re five minutes late.”
“No, I thought my review was at eleven thirty. So not for another ten minutes.”
“Yes, it is. But with Mr. Wentz, you should always be fifteen minutes early. I’m sure he’ll over look it this time.” She said in a voice that made her sound as if she was trying to prove she was all that. I just took a deep breath, and reminded myself I didn’t need another reason to not get hired. Although, it might be worth it to get at least on punch in. No, I need this job.
Nodding my head I looked at her for a second longer. “And where is this interview being held?” I asked and she rolled her eyes.
“You should have gotten a confirmation email on all of this.” She sounded annoyed. “Take the elevator up to the third floor, and it should be in the third door on your right.” I just nodded again, not even bothering to thank her before I got into the elevator and up to the third floor.
Breathe Cassidy. I told myself once more as I walked up to the door and grabbed the handle. I can do this.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
ignore any spelling / grammar errors I might have made. Too lazy to triple check it.
That’s it. You can do this; I had to remind myself over a thousand times as my feet itched closer and closer to the front doors of the Decaydance office. “No, I can’t.” I panicked and quickly staggered backwards until I hit something that made an ‘oof’ sound. Wait. I hit something. Shit.
Without even thinking I quickly turned around to see what God could only possibly show me as a sign that I was headed down the wrong path. A huge omen. Like he was standing right in front of me with a huge lit up and flashing neon sign that read ‘get the hell out of here while you still have feet.’ Mr. Peter Lewis-Kingston Wentz the third, lying on the ground with three other men that I quickly recognized as the rest of Fall Out Boy not too far behind, suppressing laughter. Yeah, this had to be God trying to tell me to get the hell out of there. Either that, or he just loved to watch me make a fool of myself.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry.” My apologizes almost sounded foreign to my ears as I blabbed over and over again about how sorry I was, and held out my hand to help him up. He was not too happy though, I would say, as he slapped my hand away and stood up with a glare in his eyes.
“Watch where you’re going next time.” His words were dark, harsh and sharp. I had no clue what else to say or do except kept my mouth shut and bow my head as he stormed off, the other three men that followed close behind just shook their heads, no longer amused. The ginger-head I quickly recognized as the lead singer of the band, Patrick Stump, stayed behind and patted my shoulder. His words eased me a little as he spoke.
“Don’t take his words to heart, he’s just a little…” he paused for a second, I guess to search for the right words to say. “He’s just PMSing.” His light laughter made me smile and I nodded. Before I could reply to him though, he was up ahead of me, and inside the building on the other side of the glass doors.
Breathe Cassidy.
I told myself again and took a deep breath. I felt like a hopeless cause. There was no way I could go through this interview now, especially after knocking the guy flat on his arse. No, there was surely no way I would get the job now. I was then reminded of my mother who was lying in a cold hospital bed, going through those chemotherapy treatments that I only knew she couldn’t afford. I had to get through this, if not for me, for her. I had nothing to lose anyway right? Well, I did have my dignity. I was sure that even if I did get hired, I would quickly lose that. I heard some major horror stories of some of the people who accepted this job, but still it was either this or back to Starbucks part time and working my ass off in school. (& let me tell you one thing, I can’t stand school. I only stuck with it because its what my mom would have wanted.)
I had to do it. I would accept whatever fate came to me from this. If I wasn’t hired, well then I would stick it out in medical school and become a nurse. If I do get hired, I guess I’m going to find out if any of these horror stories are true. I took one more deep breath just for good measure and took the plunge, put my fears behind me and stepped inside the building. My eyes searched around me and landed on those of a in-humanly beautiful blonde sitting behind a desk, which I assumed, was the front desk. My feet felt heavy, like they were trying to hold me back. I had to be strong though.
You can do this Cassidy.
When I reached the desk, the blonde looked at me with a twinge of disgust. I wasn’t sure why, but I immediately got the feeling she didn’t like something about me.
You can do this. (yes, I know, it’s getting repetitive. But haven’t you heard for Thomas the train? I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.)
“Can I help you?” She asked with such attitude that made my skin crawl. I always hated the whiny girls, the ones who thought that “Paris Hilton Chic” was in (you know, puking up any real food and picking at salads), said the word ‘like’ about thirty times in every sentence, and doesn’t know that there are any of colors of the color spectrum other then pink. Yeah, this woman was definitely one of those girls.
“Yes, I have an interview with Mr. Wentz.” I answered simply. She eyed me for a moment and then clicked away on her computer before looking back up at me.
“You’re five minutes late.”
“No, I thought my review was at eleven thirty. So not for another ten minutes.”
“Yes, it is. But with Mr. Wentz, you should always be fifteen minutes early. I’m sure he’ll over look it this time.” She said in a voice that made her sound as if she was trying to prove she was all that. I just took a deep breath, and reminded myself I didn’t need another reason to not get hired. Although, it might be worth it to get at least on punch in. No, I need this job.
Nodding my head I looked at her for a second longer. “And where is this interview being held?” I asked and she rolled her eyes.
“You should have gotten a confirmation email on all of this.” She sounded annoyed. “Take the elevator up to the third floor, and it should be in the third door on your right.” I just nodded again, not even bothering to thank her before I got into the elevator and up to the third floor.
Breathe Cassidy. I told myself once more as I walked up to the door and grabbed the handle. I can do this.
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ignore any spelling / grammar errors I might have made. Too lazy to triple check it.
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