Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Clandestine Industries Presents: disasteRomance

blame it (on the enablers) FIXED

by killxsmile 7 reviews

Drunk girls have the most fun. Right?

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Humor - Published: 2009-03-17 - Updated: 2009-03-17 - 1374 words

0Unrated
Author’s Note: This is the third day that I’ve tried to post this chapter. Ficwad is not very cooperative…

Since I've been having problems like these for a while now, I'm might be converting from ficwad to mibba.com soon. I know, I know. I've been here since '06, but dealing with all the glitches is really frustrating. So yeah. If you don't see me on here very much, look for me on mibba, under the name erratic.

Tissamy: Comfort food is a plus, but there are some things that even cupcakes can’t fix.

Naothemagnificent If you’re feeling conflicted about Pete, I’m doing my job.

alex_-nods-: Things will eventually get better. Not so sure about the “soon” parth though.

chocolatechortle22: I know it’s depressing, but it’ll be worth reading in the end. I swear. On another note, I still need to watch the Panic’s Live in Chicago DVD. I think I might be on it since I was on barricade for that show.

doyleangel: Pete’s getting what’s coming to him, but things will get better.

silver_stripes: The way I’m writing it, Soap won’t be able to go on for much longer. But I promise things will turn around eventually.

xFallxOutxBoyxFanx: I know, I know. Everyone wants Soap to be happy, but I need to get the depressing chapters out before fixing things.

rawrlittledino: I’m glad you enjoyed the pumpkin squares reference

Caffrin: I tried to offset the sadness with food. I guess it sort of worked.

tonytay113: The purple Clandestine shirt is pretty sweet.

x_slowdown: Gah. Prom is driving me up the wall. I don’t have a date, and my friends put me in charge of finding a limo/party bus. FML! As for the story, Pete and Soap will get back to what they used to be. Eventually.

43: b l a m e i t ( o n t h e e n a b l e r )

+++++
Soap’s POV

“Why isn’t it east coast’s very own Nikki and Paris?” Jeremy, the bouncer extraordinaire, said as we approached the line. Clad in mini-dresses and heels, we walked over to him.

“Sup, Big J?” Hannah asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary…except for you two lovely ladies, of course,” he joked. “Where’s Gabe tonight?”
“Probably still at the studio,” I said. “We kind of got into a fight earlier, so I don’t think he’ll be making an appearance tonight…”
“Aww, that’s too bad,” he replied. “Well, Bill and his crew are already inside.”
“Alright, thanks.”

To the dismay of everyone else waiting outside of the club, Hannah and I were quickly directed through the doors.

Inside, a Ting Tings remix was bouncing off the walls.

“Soap! Hannah!” someone called out amidst the sea of people before us. I looked around, but even with 4-inch heels, I couldn’t figure out who was calling us. After a minute or so, Hannah noticed a hand waving to us. We quickly made our way toward it and saw that the hand was attached to Mike Carden.

“Glad you could make it tonight,” he said, wrapping us in hugs.
“No problem.”
“Gabe decide to stay in?”
“We got into a fight and he went to the studio to blow off some steam,” I explained.
“Aww, that sucks, but it doesn’t mean that we can’t have fun, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, with a half-hearted smile.
“Well the rest of the guys are upstairs. Wanna join us?”
“It would be our pleasure.”

With that, we followed him up the narrow staircase and found ourselves walking toward the coveted VIP lounge.

“Banana! Soap!” Bill said, getting up to greet us. “How’ve you been?”
“Pretty good,” I replied as he wrapped me in a hug.
“Sorry we couldn’t make it to the show earlier,” Hannah said. “How’d it go?”
“It was kick ass,” Adam said. “I wish you guys would have been there.
“We’ll definitely make it next time you play in New York.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”

“Would you like anything to drink?” a petite waitress asked, walking up to our booth.
“A round of tequila,” Chislett quickly responded.

Minutes after she left, the blonde returned with a tray of shots. I downed mine without a second thought. One shot became two. Two became three. Then I had a jack & coke. Then a Brandy Alexander. Then a red-headed slut. Then a screwdriver. Then back to tequila. Soon enough, I’d lost track of how many drinks I’d had, but I still wasn’t feeling anything more than a slight buzz.

Upside of having a high tolerance: I wasn’t drunk off my ass.
Downside of having a high tolerance: I’d have to spend a lot of money to get drunk off my ass.

After about two hours of trading off between drinking and dancing, I was having trouble with my balance.

“Whoa, you okay, Soap?” Bill asked, catching me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, steadying myself.

“In the jungle, the creepy jungle, Homer rides a freak!” Hannah sang as I took a seat. “Oh, there you are Soap!”
“Hey,” I said, chuckling.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”

Giggling, she leaned toward me and cupped her hand around her mouth.

“I’m gone.” With that, she burst into laughter. “Aww man, I’m gonna be so hungover tomorrow!”
“I think that’s our cue to head out,” Carden said.

Since Hannah and I were in no condition to drive, the boys hailed up a cab.

“Thanks for hanging out tonight, you two,” Sisky said through the window.
“Dude, why didn’t you make a move on me?” Hannah loudly asked. “Don’t you like me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well then why haven’t you so much as tried to kiss me?”
“I didn’t think you were interested,” he said, surprised.
“Are you kidding?” she asked, rolling the window down all the way. “You are so. Fucking. Sexy. It’s not even funny.”

He laughed, then leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“If you still feel the same way after you’ve sobered up, give me a call,” he said, brushing her bangs out of her face.
“Alright. I’ll talk to you aaaaall day.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Hannah. Night, Soap.”
“Good night.”

The five men waved us off as our taxi pulled into traffic. I drifted in and out of sleep as New York passed us by. According to the clock on the dashboard, about half an hour had passed before we reached Hannah’s apartment.

I gave our driver a $20 for his trouble.

“Stay safe, you two,” he said, pocketing the bill.
“Thanks,” I replied, smiling.

Hannah draped her arm around my shoulder as we stepped out of the backseat. I carefully guided her onto the sidewalk and closed the yellow door behind me.

As the car merged back into traffic, the both of us tottered toward the lobby doors. I’m not exactly sure how we made it to the elevator without falling over, but we did.

After unsteadily tottering through the hallway, the both of us made it to her apartment.

“Dude, we’re sooooo wasted right now,” she said, flopping onto the couch.
“I think I could have a few more drinks,” I replied, slipping my heels off.
“Could not.”
“Could so.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yuh-huh.”
“Prove it. There’s a bottle of Grey Goose in the cabinet.”
“Gladly.”

I carefully navigated my way to the kitchen and retrieved the aforementioned alcohol.

“Shot glasses are in the cabinet, too. Get one for meee,” Hannah slurred.

Although I wasn’t completely shitfaced, I was definitely going to get there by the end of the night.

+++++
Alcoholism.
It is a problem.
If you don’t think so, you’ll definitely change your mind after I post the next Gabe chapter.

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On a more serious note, go read ‘Pevie’ by moocow and ‘Hustle’ and ‘Equinox’ by rawrlittledino. They deserve the feedback a lot more than I do.
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