Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Lasting Impressions
THANK YOUS
doyleangel: Alex is making a comeback.
Egad. I grossly underestimated the cost for GK tour. Originally they cost $19 each, but with all the convenience charges, they were almost $40 apiece.
somethingorother: Chloe's definitely caught between a rock and a hard place. Either way, someone's going to get their heart broken.
lyrical_lies: It seems that Team Alex is gaining back reluctant members. lol.
F-A-S-D: I'm the queen of complication ;)
Woahwoah. It sounds like you're trying to feel yourself busy this fall. I wish I was going to the MTVU VMA Tour, but it just so happens to be on the second day of college. Best of luck with getting all the tickets!
ATLloveRAWR: If you were gasping at the last chapter, just wait until you read this one.
I hope you get to go to GK tour, yo!
tryingtohard_x: Admitting she still loves him was the first step. Now the ball is in Alex's court.
STORY BELOWWW.
After the show, I wasn’t really up for a party at the hotel. In fact, all I really wanted to do was go to my room and get a good night’s sleep before leaving for the airport in the morning. But the tour was officially over, so I figured that I should make the most of the time I had with everyone.
Upon entering the suite, Travis ran over and swept me into a hug.
“Glad you decided to make an appearance,” he said, still holding me close to his chest.
“TOUR’S OVER!” Drew yelled as he chest bumped Hunter.
“What? You think I’d wanna miss out on this?” I asked, chuckling.
He shook his head and laughed before pulling away.
“Man, I’m gonna miss having you around, Barakat.”
“Same goes for you, Clark.”
With a cheeky grin he directed me over to the kitchen, a.k.a. Booze Central.
Although I wasn’t in the mood for drinking, I poured myself a cup of Jack Daniels and took a seat as Bryan and Paul started up a game of beer pong. While watching them, I tried my hardest to convince myself, as well as everyone else, that I was entertained. Or at least content. But it goes without saying that the latter was the best I could hope for.
I had a smile on the outside, but in truth, I was on the outside looking in on everyone.
“You alright?” Jess asked, walking up behind me.
“Yeah,” I nodded, trying to muster a smile.
Unconvinced, she motioned for me to get up and follow her. After we carefully made our way past the guitar techs who were randomly dancing, I found myself standing in front of the TV.
“We have a new challenger,” she announced placing a guitar hero controller in my hand.
“Sweet,” Martin grinned, holding the other controller. “Think you can beat me?”
“I know I can beat you,” I nonchalantly replied, slipping the plastic guitar over my head.
“Shit. Em’s fightin words,” John said, laughing.
“Alright. Since you’re so confident, let’s make this interesting,” he replied.
“How so?”
“Loser has to spend the rest of the party only in their underwear.”
A series of ‘OOH’s filled the area, awaiting my response.
“You’re on. Best of 5 wins.”
He nodded and we both started playing on expert mode.
“Monsters” by Matchbook Romance: he won
“My Name Is Jonas” by Weezer: I won
“F.C.P.R.E.M.I.X.” by Fall Of Troy: I won
“Raining Blood” by Slayer: he won
2 to 2 meant only one thing: “Through the Fire and Flames” by Dragonforce.
If you haven’t played this song on expert before, the television screen looks like an angry rainbow repeatedly threw up all over it. I personally don’t think that people are supposed to be able to move their hands that fast, especially for 7 minutes straight.
If that wasn’t bad enough, just imagine trying to play it against a determined Martin Johnson. On top of having my hand start cramping up mid-song, I had to deal with him “accidentally” jabbing me in the side with his controller. By the halfway mark, the both of us were relentlessly knocking into each other in efforts to break concentration.
As the final stretch of notes moved across the screen, I felt like my hand would be stuck in the shape of a weird claw or deformed talon. Even so, there was no fucking way that I’d be spending the rest of the party in my underwear.
In a last minute attempt to throw me off, Martin tried to give me one final shove. Emphasis on “tried.”
I moved out of the way before he could land the hit, and he ended up face planting into the carpet. While the rest of the room exploded into laughter, I smirked and continued strumming.
“Shit,” Martin said, still on the floor as the scores came onto the screen. I’d won by a couple thousand points. That alone was hilarious in itself, but the funniest part was that if he hadn’t pulled that stupid stunt, he probably would have won.
With a huge grin on my face, I leaned down to his level and offered him my hand. He reluctantly took it and returned to the upright position.
“Time to take it off, Martin,” I teased.
“You suck,” he muttered before pulling his shirt over his head. When he slipped his jeans off, various cat calls filled the room. He responded with his middle finger, but that just made it all the more funny.
The next couple of hours were filled with dancing, laughter, complaints from hotel management, and food via room service. Surprisingly I hadn’t seen Alex all night. Though a part of me wondered where he was, I knew better than to ask about it. After all, he was probably getting laid, getting wasted, or getting lung cancer.
“Uh, Chloe, could you come here for a sec?” Danny called from outside the bathroom as I poured myself a rum and coke.
“Sure,” I said, picking up my cup and walking toward him. “What’s—”
Before I could finish my statement, he pointed to a poor soul hunched over the toilet.
“How much did you drink, Jack?” I asked.
“Like 5 of those lemonodka things, a jagerbomb, then a few red-headed sluts…” he responded before coughing.
“Then Bryan made a round of kamikazes,” Danny continued.
“Oh yeah. Those were—” He dry heaved, then vomited. “Those were pretty good.”
“I think you’re done for the night,” I said, flushing the toilet for him.
“But I threw up!” he said, wiping his mouth with some toilet paper. “That means there’s more room for drinks.”
“No,” I said, chuckling at his reasoning. “That means that party time is over for you.”
“Over? But I—Oh god.” He puked again. After a few seconds of staring at the contents of his stomach, he looked up at me. “Okay, maybe I should stop.”
He wiped his mouth with toilet paper, flushed, then motioned for me to help him up. I took his hand, and he unsteadily got to his feet.
“Want me to take you back to your room?” I asked as he leaned onto me. He nodded and I started walking him toward the door.
“I’m too drunk and I’m kinda sick, so I’m gonna go now!” he yelled. “BYE URRYBODY!”
A series of “bye Jack!”s filled the room as I guided him out of the room.
“Can you believe tour is over?” he asked, slurring as we made our way down the hall.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m kinda sad and kinda happy about it.”
“Happy ‘cause you don’t have to do stuff like this anymore.”
“On or off tour, I’m gonna do stuff like this, Jack,” I said chuckling.
“I’m sorry,” he replied, hanging his head.
“It’s fine. You’d do the same for me.”
He hugged me closer to his side and kissed the top of my head as we stepped into the elevator.
“Which floor?”
“Eight,” he replied, holding up three fingers. Lord, he was wasted.
As we made our descent, he shifted his weight from me to the railing on his side. But once we got to his floor, he plopped onto my shoulder once again.
“Which way is your room?” I asked as the elevator doors slid shut behind us. He pointed left, and I carefully maneuvered him down the hallway.
“Mmkay, this is it,” he said, stopping in front of room 813.
“Oh shit. Alex is probably in there…”
“It’s fine,” I quietly said. “He’s probably passed out anyway.”
“That’s true,” he sleepily mumbled.
He took out his key, and after a few failed attempts of unlocking the door, he handed it to me. I easily got the door open, but had to fight the urge to shut it once again.
Alex was sitting on his bed, with a cup of god knows what in his hand. By the various bottles of liquor on the bedside table, it looked like he was having his own party.
Noticing our presence, he watched as I guided Jack over to his bed. As I tucked my brother in in, I could feel Alex’s eyes burning holes into the back of my head.
“Thanks, Chloe,” he mumbled before falling asleep. I leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead before getting up.
As I turned around, I made the fatal mistake of looking up. Once I did, Alex’s eyes were on mine. Wordlessly I shook my head.
“What?” he said, clearly annoyed by my action.
“Is this what you’ve been doing all night?” I asked.
“Why the fuck do you even care, Chloe?” he spat, pouring himself another drink.
“Because as much as I hate what you did to me, I can’t watch you kill yourself like this.”
Rolling his eyes, he ignored my comment and lifted the cup to his lips. Before he could drink it, however, I knocked it out of his hands. The amber liquid spilled to the floor and a look of frustration spread over his face.
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” he yelled, standing up.
“I WANT YOU TO STOP THIS!” I replied, just as frustrated as he was. “The drinking. The smoking. What the fuck Alex?! Since when do you smoke?!”
“SINCE YOU LEFT ME FOR PAUL!” he spat.
My eyes went wide at this comment.
“DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO PIN THIS ON ME!” I screamed, as angry tears spilled form the corners of my eyes. “You cheated me. You broke my heart. You started sleeping around. I didn’t leave you for Paul. You practically pushed me into his arms.”
Looking him straight in the eyes, I could feel my blood boiling beneath my skin. At this point I was clenching my fists so hard that my nails were cutting into my palms.
“I FUCKING LOVED YOU, ALEX!” I said, voice cracking as I did so. “…I fucking loved you, and you threw it away.”
At this comment, shame washed over his face and he turned his gaze to the floor.
“And you know what the worst part of is?” I asked, as cynical laughter escaped from my lips. “I still love you. You, Alex Gaskarth, the boy who broke my heart and continued ripping it to shreds even after we broke up.”
Tears were flowing freely, but I didn’t bother wiping them away.
“You, the boy who’s made me cry for hours on end and wonder why I wasn’t good enough…”
Sobs shook through my body but I refused to fall and look even weaker than I already was.
“You, the boy who doesn’t even have enough spine to look up at me…” I said, just barely audible.
Alex hung his head even lower, but I was still able to see his tears slipping from his face to the floor. I clenched my jaw and uselessly tried to blink back tears.
With love like this, who needs hate?
It could have been seconds, minutes, hours or days that we both stood there, silent aside from the sounds of our muffled sobs.
“Wait,” Alex weakly said as I turned to leave.
Upon hearing his voice, my feet became glued to the floor, unable to move. It was as if my brain had disconnected from my body, letting my battered heart take control of my actions. I took a deep breath and bit my lip.
“If you still love me, why are you with him?” he choked out.
“Sometimes love isn’t enough…” I quietly said, placing my hand on the doorknob.
It took all the willpower I had, but I was able to turn the knob and walk out.
To be honest, part of me was hoping that he’d come after me. To chase me down the hallway and kiss me. To yell that he loved me pull me into his arms.
But none of those things happened.
Instead, I made my way through the hallway without consequence. When I reached the room I was sharing with Paul, I took a seat on the side of the bed and got my phone out. Scrolling to his number, I decided to text rather than call. That way, he wouldn’t be able to tell that I was crying.
jack barfed up a lung. not in the partying mood anymore, so i’m going to bed early.
A minute later I received a reply.
okay. i‘ll be there in a few.
Sighing, I typed up a response.
no, it’s fine. tour’s over and you should hang out with the guys. & jsyk, i‘m not taking no for an answer.
haha. alright. but expect cuddling when the party’s over.
After reading the message, I closed my phone and set it onto the bedside table.
I love Alex.
I love Paul.
I hate myself.
The tour might be over, but this mess won’t be ending any time soon.
+++++
I'd really appreciate it if you RATED & REVIEWED.
After all, I cried when I wrote this chapter.
That's how intense it got.
Q&A #17: Could you tell me about your favorite pair of shoes?
Mine are a beat up pair of slip on Converse that I got in Minnesota a few years back. I've worn them to every concert I've been to (with the exception of a Gwen Stefani show I went to). They're dirty, splitting at the seams, and the soles are ripping, but I love them to death.
doyleangel: Alex is making a comeback.
Egad. I grossly underestimated the cost for GK tour. Originally they cost $19 each, but with all the convenience charges, they were almost $40 apiece.
somethingorother: Chloe's definitely caught between a rock and a hard place. Either way, someone's going to get their heart broken.
lyrical_lies: It seems that Team Alex is gaining back reluctant members. lol.
F-A-S-D: I'm the queen of complication ;)
Woahwoah. It sounds like you're trying to feel yourself busy this fall. I wish I was going to the MTVU VMA Tour, but it just so happens to be on the second day of college. Best of luck with getting all the tickets!
ATLloveRAWR: If you were gasping at the last chapter, just wait until you read this one.
I hope you get to go to GK tour, yo!
tryingtohard_x: Admitting she still loves him was the first step. Now the ball is in Alex's court.
STORY BELOWWW.
After the show, I wasn’t really up for a party at the hotel. In fact, all I really wanted to do was go to my room and get a good night’s sleep before leaving for the airport in the morning. But the tour was officially over, so I figured that I should make the most of the time I had with everyone.
Upon entering the suite, Travis ran over and swept me into a hug.
“Glad you decided to make an appearance,” he said, still holding me close to his chest.
“TOUR’S OVER!” Drew yelled as he chest bumped Hunter.
“What? You think I’d wanna miss out on this?” I asked, chuckling.
He shook his head and laughed before pulling away.
“Man, I’m gonna miss having you around, Barakat.”
“Same goes for you, Clark.”
With a cheeky grin he directed me over to the kitchen, a.k.a. Booze Central.
Although I wasn’t in the mood for drinking, I poured myself a cup of Jack Daniels and took a seat as Bryan and Paul started up a game of beer pong. While watching them, I tried my hardest to convince myself, as well as everyone else, that I was entertained. Or at least content. But it goes without saying that the latter was the best I could hope for.
I had a smile on the outside, but in truth, I was on the outside looking in on everyone.
“You alright?” Jess asked, walking up behind me.
“Yeah,” I nodded, trying to muster a smile.
Unconvinced, she motioned for me to get up and follow her. After we carefully made our way past the guitar techs who were randomly dancing, I found myself standing in front of the TV.
“We have a new challenger,” she announced placing a guitar hero controller in my hand.
“Sweet,” Martin grinned, holding the other controller. “Think you can beat me?”
“I know I can beat you,” I nonchalantly replied, slipping the plastic guitar over my head.
“Shit. Em’s fightin words,” John said, laughing.
“Alright. Since you’re so confident, let’s make this interesting,” he replied.
“How so?”
“Loser has to spend the rest of the party only in their underwear.”
A series of ‘OOH’s filled the area, awaiting my response.
“You’re on. Best of 5 wins.”
He nodded and we both started playing on expert mode.
“Monsters” by Matchbook Romance: he won
“My Name Is Jonas” by Weezer: I won
“F.C.P.R.E.M.I.X.” by Fall Of Troy: I won
“Raining Blood” by Slayer: he won
2 to 2 meant only one thing: “Through the Fire and Flames” by Dragonforce.
If you haven’t played this song on expert before, the television screen looks like an angry rainbow repeatedly threw up all over it. I personally don’t think that people are supposed to be able to move their hands that fast, especially for 7 minutes straight.
If that wasn’t bad enough, just imagine trying to play it against a determined Martin Johnson. On top of having my hand start cramping up mid-song, I had to deal with him “accidentally” jabbing me in the side with his controller. By the halfway mark, the both of us were relentlessly knocking into each other in efforts to break concentration.
As the final stretch of notes moved across the screen, I felt like my hand would be stuck in the shape of a weird claw or deformed talon. Even so, there was no fucking way that I’d be spending the rest of the party in my underwear.
In a last minute attempt to throw me off, Martin tried to give me one final shove. Emphasis on “tried.”
I moved out of the way before he could land the hit, and he ended up face planting into the carpet. While the rest of the room exploded into laughter, I smirked and continued strumming.
“Shit,” Martin said, still on the floor as the scores came onto the screen. I’d won by a couple thousand points. That alone was hilarious in itself, but the funniest part was that if he hadn’t pulled that stupid stunt, he probably would have won.
With a huge grin on my face, I leaned down to his level and offered him my hand. He reluctantly took it and returned to the upright position.
“Time to take it off, Martin,” I teased.
“You suck,” he muttered before pulling his shirt over his head. When he slipped his jeans off, various cat calls filled the room. He responded with his middle finger, but that just made it all the more funny.
The next couple of hours were filled with dancing, laughter, complaints from hotel management, and food via room service. Surprisingly I hadn’t seen Alex all night. Though a part of me wondered where he was, I knew better than to ask about it. After all, he was probably getting laid, getting wasted, or getting lung cancer.
“Uh, Chloe, could you come here for a sec?” Danny called from outside the bathroom as I poured myself a rum and coke.
“Sure,” I said, picking up my cup and walking toward him. “What’s—”
Before I could finish my statement, he pointed to a poor soul hunched over the toilet.
“How much did you drink, Jack?” I asked.
“Like 5 of those lemonodka things, a jagerbomb, then a few red-headed sluts…” he responded before coughing.
“Then Bryan made a round of kamikazes,” Danny continued.
“Oh yeah. Those were—” He dry heaved, then vomited. “Those were pretty good.”
“I think you’re done for the night,” I said, flushing the toilet for him.
“But I threw up!” he said, wiping his mouth with some toilet paper. “That means there’s more room for drinks.”
“No,” I said, chuckling at his reasoning. “That means that party time is over for you.”
“Over? But I—Oh god.” He puked again. After a few seconds of staring at the contents of his stomach, he looked up at me. “Okay, maybe I should stop.”
He wiped his mouth with toilet paper, flushed, then motioned for me to help him up. I took his hand, and he unsteadily got to his feet.
“Want me to take you back to your room?” I asked as he leaned onto me. He nodded and I started walking him toward the door.
“I’m too drunk and I’m kinda sick, so I’m gonna go now!” he yelled. “BYE URRYBODY!”
A series of “bye Jack!”s filled the room as I guided him out of the room.
“Can you believe tour is over?” he asked, slurring as we made our way down the hall.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m kinda sad and kinda happy about it.”
“Happy ‘cause you don’t have to do stuff like this anymore.”
“On or off tour, I’m gonna do stuff like this, Jack,” I said chuckling.
“I’m sorry,” he replied, hanging his head.
“It’s fine. You’d do the same for me.”
He hugged me closer to his side and kissed the top of my head as we stepped into the elevator.
“Which floor?”
“Eight,” he replied, holding up three fingers. Lord, he was wasted.
As we made our descent, he shifted his weight from me to the railing on his side. But once we got to his floor, he plopped onto my shoulder once again.
“Which way is your room?” I asked as the elevator doors slid shut behind us. He pointed left, and I carefully maneuvered him down the hallway.
“Mmkay, this is it,” he said, stopping in front of room 813.
“Oh shit. Alex is probably in there…”
“It’s fine,” I quietly said. “He’s probably passed out anyway.”
“That’s true,” he sleepily mumbled.
He took out his key, and after a few failed attempts of unlocking the door, he handed it to me. I easily got the door open, but had to fight the urge to shut it once again.
Alex was sitting on his bed, with a cup of god knows what in his hand. By the various bottles of liquor on the bedside table, it looked like he was having his own party.
Noticing our presence, he watched as I guided Jack over to his bed. As I tucked my brother in in, I could feel Alex’s eyes burning holes into the back of my head.
“Thanks, Chloe,” he mumbled before falling asleep. I leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead before getting up.
As I turned around, I made the fatal mistake of looking up. Once I did, Alex’s eyes were on mine. Wordlessly I shook my head.
“What?” he said, clearly annoyed by my action.
“Is this what you’ve been doing all night?” I asked.
“Why the fuck do you even care, Chloe?” he spat, pouring himself another drink.
“Because as much as I hate what you did to me, I can’t watch you kill yourself like this.”
Rolling his eyes, he ignored my comment and lifted the cup to his lips. Before he could drink it, however, I knocked it out of his hands. The amber liquid spilled to the floor and a look of frustration spread over his face.
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” he yelled, standing up.
“I WANT YOU TO STOP THIS!” I replied, just as frustrated as he was. “The drinking. The smoking. What the fuck Alex?! Since when do you smoke?!”
“SINCE YOU LEFT ME FOR PAUL!” he spat.
My eyes went wide at this comment.
“DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO PIN THIS ON ME!” I screamed, as angry tears spilled form the corners of my eyes. “You cheated me. You broke my heart. You started sleeping around. I didn’t leave you for Paul. You practically pushed me into his arms.”
Looking him straight in the eyes, I could feel my blood boiling beneath my skin. At this point I was clenching my fists so hard that my nails were cutting into my palms.
“I FUCKING LOVED YOU, ALEX!” I said, voice cracking as I did so. “…I fucking loved you, and you threw it away.”
At this comment, shame washed over his face and he turned his gaze to the floor.
“And you know what the worst part of is?” I asked, as cynical laughter escaped from my lips. “I still love you. You, Alex Gaskarth, the boy who broke my heart and continued ripping it to shreds even after we broke up.”
Tears were flowing freely, but I didn’t bother wiping them away.
“You, the boy who’s made me cry for hours on end and wonder why I wasn’t good enough…”
Sobs shook through my body but I refused to fall and look even weaker than I already was.
“You, the boy who doesn’t even have enough spine to look up at me…” I said, just barely audible.
Alex hung his head even lower, but I was still able to see his tears slipping from his face to the floor. I clenched my jaw and uselessly tried to blink back tears.
With love like this, who needs hate?
It could have been seconds, minutes, hours or days that we both stood there, silent aside from the sounds of our muffled sobs.
“Wait,” Alex weakly said as I turned to leave.
Upon hearing his voice, my feet became glued to the floor, unable to move. It was as if my brain had disconnected from my body, letting my battered heart take control of my actions. I took a deep breath and bit my lip.
“If you still love me, why are you with him?” he choked out.
“Sometimes love isn’t enough…” I quietly said, placing my hand on the doorknob.
It took all the willpower I had, but I was able to turn the knob and walk out.
To be honest, part of me was hoping that he’d come after me. To chase me down the hallway and kiss me. To yell that he loved me pull me into his arms.
But none of those things happened.
Instead, I made my way through the hallway without consequence. When I reached the room I was sharing with Paul, I took a seat on the side of the bed and got my phone out. Scrolling to his number, I decided to text rather than call. That way, he wouldn’t be able to tell that I was crying.
jack barfed up a lung. not in the partying mood anymore, so i’m going to bed early.
A minute later I received a reply.
okay. i‘ll be there in a few.
Sighing, I typed up a response.
no, it’s fine. tour’s over and you should hang out with the guys. & jsyk, i‘m not taking no for an answer.
haha. alright. but expect cuddling when the party’s over.
After reading the message, I closed my phone and set it onto the bedside table.
I love Alex.
I love Paul.
I hate myself.
The tour might be over, but this mess won’t be ending any time soon.
+++++
I'd really appreciate it if you RATED & REVIEWED.
After all, I cried when I wrote this chapter.
That's how intense it got.
Q&A #17: Could you tell me about your favorite pair of shoes?
Mine are a beat up pair of slip on Converse that I got in Minnesota a few years back. I've worn them to every concert I've been to (with the exception of a Gwen Stefani show I went to). They're dirty, splitting at the seams, and the soles are ripping, but I love them to death.
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