Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Love or Sympathy

Love or Sympathy

by SugarPlumFaerie 3 reviews

This is what happens when you mix a night of Fall Out Boy, confused boys, true effing love, and a one-shot.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG - Genres: Angst, Drama - Published: 2006-10-17 - Updated: 2006-10-17 - 849 words - Complete

A/N: Hello there, it's been a while. School's been nuts, but then when isn't it? Yeah, still writing the Petey vampire story, but the idea for this one came out of nowhere and I had to write it. Yup, it's pretty short, but I hope you guys like it.

The snow crunched loudly as I darted down the sidewalk, my heart in my throat and my mind going a million miles a minute.

I love you.

I don't even know where I'm going, though I've run down these streets too many times before. Too many times have I grinned happily at the thought of being with him, soaking up his smile, existing only to make him happy.

Do you mean it?

The tears glistening down my face blinded me--how I wish I was blind five minutes ago. Or at least deaf.

Every single word.

I slid on the slippery sidewalk, catching the light pole on the corner to keep from slipping. The cold metal touched my cheek and I finally became aware of my surroundings. The loud honking, the revving of engines, the people staring at me.


I heard his voice echoing through the streets, so I let go of the pole and sprinted again, this time toward my house. The silent sobs barely kept me from falling to pieces; all that mattered now was that he didn't see me cry, that he didn't know anything. I crossed the street, inviting infuriated honks from the cars screeching to a halt.

"Bianca, wait!"

Somehow I found my way up the steps to my house, swung the front door shut, and sprinted up the staircase to my room. I knew he'd follow me, so I locked myself in the bathroom, slumping to floor with my face pressed against it and clutching my legs in a fetal position.

I heard him catching his breath, and I knew he was sitting against the bathroom floor like he always did when I retreated to my bathroom in a bad mood.

"Bianca, I'm sorry," he said through the door.

"Patrick, just...go away."

"I can't. I don't want to leave knowing that you're angry."

I hated myself when I heard the hurt in his voice. I almost opened the door to hug him and let him know everything would be okay, but I knew that was a lie.

"Then say what you have to say," I answered, sitting up against the door.

"I know we agreed we'd wait until we were both married...but I really love Jaime. She's the one."

At that point, my heart sank faster than you can say "Andy Hurley's a comic book geek." I started quietly crying again and my arms gripped my legs together tightly. I knew Jaime was his girlfriend, but I just assumed she'd be gone like the rest of the girls who never understood Patrick. What did Jaime have that I didn't? Oh, that's right. Patrick's whole heart.

"I couldn't help it. One thing led to another..."

Could Patrick really be so blind to my emotions? Didn't he realize how much I need him, how much I absolutely adore him, and that he was wrenching my heart out?

"If I really thought about it beforehand, I would've locked the door..."

And there it was. Being such an unlucky girl with a bad haircut (blame Joe for that one), I managed to catch the enormously talented, sweet, adorable love of my life, Patrick Stump, having sex with his girlfriend. As if the world decided to get another kick out my misery, I also heard the words I dreamt of Patrick saying. Just not to me.

"Jaime, I love you."

"Do you mean it?"

"Every single word."

"I love you too, Patrick."


By this time, I'd stopped crying.


"Are you going to come out now or do I have to get Pete to climb up the second story and into your bathroom window to get you again?"

In spite of myself, I laughed. Pete once attempted to do so. Everything was going fine until he reached the window. The window itself was tiny, and even though Pete wasn't too big, he managed to get himself stuck in it. I could remember him flailing about with a big smile on his face. He then fell faced forward through into the bathtub, heavily bruising his body and his ego.

I got up, stared at myself in the mirror, and threw some water on my face.

"No, because I don't want to explain to Mama Wentz why there are pictures of Pete's butt sticking out my window floating around the gossip blogs."

Patrick laughed shakily. I opened the door, all smiles.

"Still traumatized or mad?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

"Nah. I've seen scarier things. Remember I saw Dirty running around with a skirt on before," I said, burying my feelings underneath a smile.

Patrick laughed and hugged my tightly, our faces pressed together.

"I love you Bianca," he said into my ear.

"Love you too, Patrick."

If only he really meant it.
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