Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I'm Not One For Love Songs

I'm Not One For Love Songs (Part 7)

by ohsotay23 3 Reviews

Gabe and Natalia talk. More info. on Gabe. Natalia and Jaycee(Jay)moment mini moment. I would really enjoy some reviews so that I know that people are actually reading. :]

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Romance - Characters:  - Published: 2009/04/20 - Updated: 2009/04/21 - 1835 words - Complete

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Author's Note: I would really like to give a major shout out to somethingorother, chocolatechortle22, and ixamxnotxaxnugget for being totally loyal readers and reviewing as much as you do! You guys keep me writing. Thank you! :D


I'm Not One For Love Songs

Okay, so it’s 5:27 now. And I admit it, I’ve been avoiding going to Gabe’s room. I know I should visit him, and I know that I kind of want to visit him, but it’s all a matter of actually building the mental momentum to open the door and walk into the room.

But maybe if I went in he’d quench my thirst for answers. That thought was tempting enough to make me open the door and actually walk in, shutting it quietly behind me.

“Finally,” he commented with a ghost of his signature smirk.

“Yeah, I was, uh, busy,” I said in my own defense.

“Well that would make sense, you are at work,” he said with a wink.

“Well someone seems pretty cheery all of a sudden…” I commented, confused by the major mood swing that this guy has had.

“Well, I’m coping. And I’ve figured some things out,” he said vaguely.

“Oh really? Would you like to share?” I pushed gently as I sat in the chair next to him.

“Well, I’d have to start from the beginning…”

“Then let story time commence,” I egged on.

“Well actually it’s a really short story. I’ve been taking pain meds the past few months because of a car accident that I was in and I’ve sort of been slipping into a bad place lately. And I guess one thing led to another and those pills were being chugged,” he said as nonchalantly as he could.

“Oh,” I said simply, knowing that there was more to the story than that. I’ll let him tell me the rest when he’s ready though.

“And next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital room with your beautiful face hovering over me,” he said with that familiar smirk of his.

“No one likes a kiss ass,” I scolded him.

“I just speak the truth,” he said sticking his tongue out gently.

“I still don’t like you very much,” I told him all of a sudden.

That seemed to knock his smile down a few notches, “I know, but I’m gonna try to change that.”

“We’ll see,” I commented lightly. I took a look at him, I really looked at him. It was then that I noticed how worn out and tired he looked. The bags under his eyes had him looking like a raccoon. He looked even thinner than his gangly frame usually did. He looked pale, deathly pale. And his eyes seemed dull, worn out. He’d lost his spark that had people so attracted to and swarming around him in high school. Now, he was just Gabriel Saporta, that guy.

“Way to be obviously checking me out,” he chuckled with his smirk back in place.

“I’m your nurse, it’s in the job description,” I threw back.

“What else exactly is included in that job description?”

“Nothing that you’re thinking of, I can promise you that,” I told him with a mock glare.

“Aww darn,” he snapped his finger with a pouting face.

“Well, I’m sure all those groupies of yours would love a piece of that,” I teased with my own smirk.

“Ehh, that got old after the first few shows. Some of them are ridiculous. I mean they literally want to have my babies. I don’t have super sperm, contrary to popular belief,” he said with a sigh.

I laughed freely at him, “Do I get kudos for making you laugh?” he asked teasingly.

“We’ll see,” I said vaguely, “And how exactly did you get into the whole band scene?” I asked, thoroughly confused at how this guy become a front man and vocalist when I don’t recall him being involved with anything music related in high school.

“Well all throughout high school I had been really into the music scene, no one really knew, and I used to sneak out to clubs. I mean these clubs were run down and filled with punk rocker wannabe’s, but the bands were amazing. I remember thinking that I wanted to be on stage just like them, helping kids like me find their identity. I wanted to inspire people. I met a few guys- Ryland, Alex, and Nate and then eventually we found Vicky-T and the band was complete. I met Pete Wentz one night and the next thing I knew we were signed and our album was doing pretty okay as a first album,” he explained to me the whole story of how the band had gotten together.

“Woah, someone was pretty lucky,” I commented, completely shocked.

“Yeah, I was very lucky,” and I couldn’t help but hear the bitterness in his voice.

I ignored it and figured that if he had something he wanted to say that he would say it when he felt comfortable, “So how’s the band now?”

“Cobra Starship,” he filled in the blank and I vaguely remember hearing about them, “Well, we were about to start recording but it’s been put on hold for a bit.”

“Oh, why’s that?” I asked curiously.

“As I said, I’ve been in a pretty bad place lately. I’ve lost inspiration and the passion for… well everything,” he said and looked away, as if he regretted saying anything.

“And you told me that you’ve figured some things out?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“Yeah, first thing is that I really need to stop the drugs and slow down on the alcohol,” he admitted.

“Drugs?” I asked, surprised but at the same time not completely shocked. I mean, he is a musician.

“Yeah, coke, pot, shit that I’m not proud of,” he told me disappointedly.

“It’s gonna be really, really hard,” I informed him.

“Yeah, I know, but it has to be done,” he said solemnly.

“Well, I’m here, if you need any help that is,” I offered. Why the fuck was I offering my help to him? What the fuck at me? But it was too late, the offer had been made.

“Thanks, that really means the world coming from you. Especially since I treated you like shit in high school and the event that happened a few years ago happened. Sorry about that by the way,” he mumbled embarrassed.

“I don’t forgive you for that, but I’ve moved on, mostly,” I told him honestly.

He jut nodded and refused to meet my gaze.

“So, on a lighter note, the doctor’s think that you should be able to leave tomorrow morning. Excited to get home?” I asked with that typical polite nurse smile on my face.

“Don’t give me that polite little nurse smile of yours, I’d rather you scream and insult me then give me that smile,” he sighed.

“Well, I am your nurse Mr. Saporta, so that’s the smile you’re gonna be getting,” I said and stood to leave, seeing that my shift was over in 7 minutes.

“Wait, you’re going already?” he asked with a frown.

“Yes, my shift ends in a few minutes,” I informed him and noticed that he seemed to be worrying something over.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” he mumbled with his head staring at his unmoving clasped hands.

I sighed at how absolutely pathetic he looked at the moment. He looked like someone had just run over his freaking puppy or something.

I sighed impatiently and pulled the pen from behind my ear, “Oh stop looking so freaking down and poutey,” I said and grabbed his hand and wrote my number on the back of it.

“Call me when you need help. I may dislike you a lot but I am a nurse and whether I like it or not, I feel like I should be there to help you. So if you need something or just like someone to talk to… well now you have my number, kay?” I said with a slight grin at his shocked face.

“Y-yes. Th-tha-thank y-you,” he stuttered and just kept staring at his hand as if it held the meaning of life or something.

I would be lying if I said that the happy little smile he wore on his face when I walked out of the room didn’t pull at the strings on my heart a little bit.

As soon as I got home I collapsed on the couch next to Jay who was watching reruns of Jackass. I was too tired to even squeal in delight at the hilarious Steve-o. Jay just turned to volume down during a commercial and she turned to me and angled her head in question.

“I’m in big trouble Jay,” I announced while a stupid Geico commercial played in the background.

“Oh lord, who did you push into traffic now?” she asked exhaustedly.

“Hey! That only happened once!”

“Yeah, and poor Pete still hasn’t forgotten it! He still refuses to walk on the side of the sidewalk near the street cause he’s scares that you’ll strike again!” she chuckled.

“Well I warned dear Mr. Wentz that next time he said that Run DMC pwnd Nirvana that there would be consequences,” I said shrugging.

“Okay,” she said taking a breath and giving me a look, “So why exactly are you in big trouble if it has nothing to do with harming another human being?” she asked, skeptically raising her eyebrows.

“I talked with Gabe tonight, and I think I care,” I mumbled depressed and shoved my head into the piled of pillows next to me.

“Ohhh, now I see,” realization washed over her features.

She patted my back comfortingly and passed me the bag of M&M’s, “Well bffl, the only thing I think we can do about that right now is sit here and gorge ourselves on with chocolate and swoon over the cast of Jackass and how you will one day marry Steve-O when he gets his life in order,” he said with a big cheesy smile.

“Tru dat,” I grumbled as best as I could with a mouthful of M&M’s.

I turned my attention back to the television and watched as Steve-O did what he did best, threw up. I laughed as he regurgitated a gold fish and when the marathon was over at 11 o’clock Jay had already passed out.

I threw a blanket over her, turned off the television, and then walked into my room sleepily. I didn’t even have time to maul over my thoughts of Gabe.

The moment my head hit the pillow, I was deep into a restless sleep.
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