And you check labels more than the FCC, These calories are killing me
Chapter Three: Game Boys
And you check labels more than the FCC
These calories are killing me
This is a sticky situation
So keep your chest in the game
And drop your jaw and coax me
-"There's A Class for This" by Cute Is What We Aim For
"Are you gunna eat those pop-tarts or not? Cause some of us are hungry."
"Huh?" I looked up, startled at the sound of Spencer's voice. I'd been standing in the middle of our small kitchen for God-knows-how-long, caught up in the nutritional information on a box of strawberry pop-tarts. 210 calories, 6 grams of fat, 180mg of sodium and 37 grams of carbs in one pop-tart. Why did these corporate assholes put /two/ pop-tarts in a baggy if you were only supposed to have one??? What did they want? For me to have a heart attack? Surely that would be bad for sales.
"They're all yours." I readily gave up the blue box to Spence and made to rummage through the fridge again. It'd been about a week since I'd started my crash diet and exercise routine. Things had been going moderately alright. I could tell I was toning up, but the muscle I was building was actually causing me to gain weight as I lost fat. Hey, as long as my thighs were getting thinner, the scale could kiss my ass.
"Bails, are you okay?" Spencer stopped me dead before I could make a clean get away.
"I'm fine, why?" I asked over my shoulder.
"You seem, I dunno, weird."
I cracked a smile, "I like to think I /am/ kinda weird."
Spencer smirked, but pressed whatever was bothering him. I wished he'd just spit out. "No, like distant weird. Like you've retreated into yourself or something...You're not like...ya know..."
My eyebrow quirked up and I shifted my weight while turning all the way around, "Enlighten me, am I /what/?"
"I know you're talking about like schoolwork or something, right?" He could tell I was pissed and was probably regretting having even suggested my sleeping around behind Brendon's back. "I moved from the fucking NORTHEAST to go to college in the DESERT for /him/. I put up with my family's bullshit for /him/. I waited for months on end for you people while your on tour- doing God knows what all over the fucking continent by the way- and you accuse /me/ of /cheating/? I love you Spence, but fuck no."
"I know, I know. And you're right, but that's just it I mean we've been gone for a few months and"-
"And what you thought maybe I got lonely? Well guess what, I /did/. And it was hell, but I dealt with it."
"I'm sorry. I'm just looking out for you and Brendon."
"I know but /Spencer/, you know me. I'm a lot of crappy things, okay, I'm a procrastinator and a horrible driver, and I can be a bitch"-
"As you're clearly demonstrating."
"Right, but I'm not a /whore/."
He stepped closer to me, lowering his voice, trying to calm me down.
"I was just looking out for my friends."
"Well try looking out in another direction because I'm not cheating." I spat out harshly, making to turn on my heel.
"Then what /are/ you doing?"
"Excuse me?" Again I turned, my eyes narrowed at one of my best friends. What the hell was wrong with him today?
"You heard me, you haven't been acting like yourself. I know something's wrong."
"Look, the last thing I need is another mom. I'm fine"- the harsh ring of the kitchen phone cut us off, like the sound of a bell ending round one on a boxing match. "Hello?" I answered.
"Hey, this is Pete, is Brent Wilson around? I need to talk to him about a promo schedule." Fall Out Boy's bassist (and eager lead spokesman) needn't have given his name as I quickly recognized the voice.
"Oh hey Pete, it's Bailey. Just a sec, I think he's playing Halo."
I chortled, "He just got the second one and I swear he's like living and breathing that game."
"Jesus, he needs to get a life."
"At least he's not lurking around gay bars." What can I say? It was too easy.
Pete just barked a laugh, "Those little bastards, which one told you?"
"Brendon first, I was told Ryan did a wicked good performance of acting gay."
"Whatchu talkin' 'bout /actin'/, girl?" he joked, doing his own impression of a ghetto black boy. I snorted, finally rounding on my computer desk, which had been hijacked by P!ATD's bassist. Thank god for laptops. "Yah, I think by the end of the tour he'd developed a crush on me."
Rolling my eyes, I couldn't stop the grin melting over my lips as I tapped Brent on the shoulders while pouring sarcasm all over my tone, "Who wouldn't Wentz, you're fucking irresistible-- Damn it Wilson, it's Pete!" my voice rose a few decibels when I was repeatedly shooed away by Brent, obviously too engrossed with Halo to care about his career. He sighed and got up from his chair, snatching the phone from me.
"I was in the middle of killing something." he snapped.
"Why don't you try hugging something for a change, jeez!" If I'd known this was going to earn me a bullrush hug resulting in near total loss of oxygen, I might not have said that. Finally he let me go and I resigned myself to go find the other guys. I really wanted to go do something with them all now, suddenly painfully aware that their time was limited. Just because the tour was dead and buried didn't mean jack, promo had to keep on keepin' on and in between I knew they also had to work on their next album. Fuck me, this whole famous band thing was getting really shitty.
I found them in the guest bedroom, all three playing video games. Sheesh almighty. Ryan and Spencer were duking it out on a revamped version of Donkey Kong (That was one of the reasons I loved Ryan, he was into the same video games as me, not that new age crapshoot bullshit that Brent worshipped) while Brendon sat on the fold-out-couch behind them intently jamming the control buttons on his Game Boy Advance.
"Be warned boys, your days are numbered." I sighed loudly, plopping down on the couch beside Brend.
"What happened? Hey! Get the hell off my controller bitch!" Ryan shoved Spencer as he took advantage of Ryan's poor attention span.
"Please tell me Brendon doesn't have another stalker." Spence pleaded desperately.
"Worse, Pete's on the phone with Brent, their going over your promo schedule for the next few months."
"Damn it!" Brendon whined, pausing his game and looking up, "We just freaking landed for Christ's sake."
"Fag check, you've been here for a solid week." I reminded him.
"Either way, I'm gunna miss you." He shooots, he scores by default. That boy's lucky he's fantastically adorable.
"You're so cute when you're clichÃ©." I grinned, leaning forward to kiss Brendon quickly.
"Ugh, guys can you go get mushy on each other somewhere else, I'm trying to kick Ryan's ass." Spence called from the floor. Why did I even bother putting a bed in here? They were so engrossed with video games and getting drunk that it was a wonder they ever remembered to sleep.
"Hey Bails, if you were going to one of our concerts, what would your poster say? Ryan and I were arguing about it last night." Change of topic nicely handled, Boyfriend.
"Who says I'd be making a poster? Shoot, I'd be the girl in the Bob Marley shirt whining to Davey the whole time about dragging me along."
"Bullshit, you'd be screamin' your ass off just like everyone else. Now what would your poster say?"
I thought for a second for two before shrugging, "Brendon Urie has a small dick?"
Ryan and Spencer chuckled as they continued to battle it out on the floor.
"I don't think we should be lying to our fans here." Brendon countered calmly, his eyebrow raised.
"Which is exactly why I'd be exposing them to the truth."
"I should bitch slap you." he smirked, shaking his head and going back to his game.
"Yah, but according to your girlfriend you haven't got the balls." Ryan snickered and I couldn't help but giggle along with him. Too easy but still good.
"Fuck you Ross, that's not what you were screaming last night." Brendon shot back, once again attempting to murder the control buttons on his hand held.
"You callin' me your whore?"
"If the shoe fits Cinderella."
"/Alrighty then/, I'm going out for a run before I have to start charging your parents a babysitting fee. Try to come back to the real world by like sevenish, ok? I wanna go out tonight-- And try to call some people, you guys are getting old fast." I smirked playfully.
"Look who's talking, all you ever do anymore is go for runs, go to the gym, go swimming in Davey's pool. Why don't you just stay here and hang out with me." Brendon begged me, turning on the big, heartbroken eyes and licking his lips before pouting his already full mouth. "You said it yourself, my days are numbered."
"So get off your ass and come running with me." I suggested, as though it were painfully obvious.
"Yah /no/." he shook his head and went back to his game.
"Don't blame me when you get lonely."
"Yah, you'll be sorry when we're gone. Then what'll you do?" he shouted to me down the hall as I left.
"I'll finally be FREE!" I screamed back, laughing. Fag check? I was going to go out of my mind missing these boys.