Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Lover I Don't Have To Love

Chapter Twelve: More Of Your Least Favorite Things

by AshleyChaotic 7 Reviews

You were young and modern seventeen in vogue and vague pursuit of a cosmopolitan dream When you bled on the bed as you fed those expectations as a whore and not a human.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Drama, Romance - Characters:  - Published: 2006/09/18 - Updated: 2006/09/19 - 1178 words

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Author's Note: Okay. This was supposed to be the ending chapter. But then I got an idea that totally kicked the orginal idea's ass. Oh you're going to love it.



My hot chocolate sat in between my legs, steaming up into my face. My eyes were on the television set, but my mind was else were than a yellow sponge laughing annoyingly at a pink blob thing.

I had been home for exactly two weeks. Which meant, I had been sitting like this every morning in my bland, white walled room, for fourteen days, before getting sick of my lack of hunger, and took a shower to relax. I glanced up at the blaring red alarm clock and it was about time for my shower. I got up, leaving my drink in place, and the TV on. I slugged my way to the bathroom, and shut the door quietly before turning on the hazy yellow light.

There I was greeted by my reflection and all my morning glory. My hair was tied into a messy bun, and my face looked worn. Then there was that frown that hasn't left since that night. Quickly, I forced a smile, my natural white teeth flashed, but automatically it dropped. Sighing, I started to remove my clothes, that seemed a little too big for me, then climbed into the shower, turning it a little more to the hotter side. As the water spat out, I closed my eyes and looked upward at the shower head and let the water pelt my face.

My eyes always felt sore, along with the cavity in my chest that used to hold my heart. The warm water was the only thing that felt comforting anymore in this old house. I really wanted to blame everyone but myself for this, but I knew it was my own fault. Every time I would get hurt, I'd push everyone away. It only seemed to make it worse when people tried to help, and I decided as a teen, to just not let anyone help, for not only my benefit, but theirs too.

Slowly, I sat down in the shower, and pulled my legs up to my chest, letting my head fall and my hair slap against my legs. My mind started racing over the events of two weeks ago. I shut my eyes tightly, and inhaled deeply, wishing for everything to go away. I opened my eyes, but the images where still playing in my mind. I shut them again, and tried to think about other things.

Sydney. William. William. Pete. Fleur. Patrick. Pete.

School. Collage. Pete. Evie. Andy. Drums. Bass. Pete.

Chicago. The park. The bench. Pete.

"Stop," I said out loud to myself, opening my eyes. Everything reminded me of him. The shower even reminded me of him and our hot sessions when my mom was working late nights. His role in my life played a lot bigger than a supporting actor.

Turning the knob off on the shower, deciding not even the shower was going to relax me today, I stepped out and into the steamy bathroom. I wrapped a towel tighter than normal around my body and as I went back into my room, the cold mixing with the steam from the bathroom, there was a loud buzzing from my night stand by the bed.

Part of me was curious on who it was, that would be calling me at seven AM, but I ignored it, walking to my drawers, letting it vibrate in circles. Since I've been home, I had gotten a total of 110 calls. I had only answered a handful. It stopped, and my curiosity went away, but it started to ring again. Furrowing my eye brows, I walked over to it, seeing Patrick's name bolded across the screen.

I hesitated, but answered, not saying hello right away.

"Aaryn?" Patrick sounded worried.

"Yeah..." I mumbled as I took a seat on my bed, crossing my legs, not really focusing.

"God, you had me worried for a second," I heard the smile in his face. "How are you?"

"I shouldn't complain..." I shrugged. "I mean, I'm home aren't I?"

I heard talking in the background, but Patrick told them to shut up, and it stopped.

"I know. It feels good to be home too."

I uncrossed my legs, suddenly focused. It feels good to be home too?

"What?" I heard more shuffling and more shushing.

"We're in Chicago right now," I mentally slapped my head. Today was the hometown show.

"Oh damn, I forgot."

There was silence on both ends and I could hear Joe groaning in the background that it was too loud. I smiled a little, remembering times he had gotten so drunk, he ran around with only a sheet around the bus, yelling toga. He was hushed by Patrick, and my smile faded.

"So... are you going to the show tonight?"

"No." I quickly answered.

"What if I picked you up, would you go then?" He debated.

"Trick I really-"

"Don't want to go. I know exactly what you're going to say." He seemed to mock me with my own words. He could tell I felt bed, with the way he coughed and spoke lowly. "I talked to your sister..."

"Really..." I sounded monotone.

"Yeah. She told me you haven't left the house at all."

"Yes I did," I defended, "I went to the store to buy some ice cream on Friday."

"Aaryn," Patrick sounded concerned, and annoyed with my sarcasm. "It'll be good for you to come out. Everyone misses you."

"I beg to differ," I sniffled a little, still not over my cold. "I think it'll be good if I stay home and sleep some more."

"Will you just stop being anti-social for four hours and come and get out of the house," he argued. "You don't even have to stay for that long. I'll drag you out of the house if I have too."

I sighed. He wasn't going to give up. "Trick, if this is one of your schemes to-"

"Does this mean you're going?"

"...I guess...but I don't think I want to talk to-"

"You don't have to talk to him..." I felt the awkwardness over the phone in his voice. He was probably around him.

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise." I held my pinky up, bending it if I was hooking it with another pinky.

"Okay. I'll be there." I gave in. Knowing that this was going to be completely disastrous.

"YES. Sydney or Fleur will probably pick you up alright?"

"Sounds tasty." I faked a joyful tone. I was going to regret this.

"Kay bye."

I was left with the dial tone before I could reply. I sighed again, running a hand through my wet hair, the fresh smell of Garnier Frutis feeling my nose. Tonight was either going to end in a complete mess of tears, or something totally unexpected. I walked over to my closet, examining my clothes. Topping everything off, I had nothing to wear.

I needed another hot chocolate and shower.
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