Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Exasperation In A Parking Lot

Reason number 147 its a bad idea to live with a pot head

by duckapple 7 Reviews

Leah smiled up at him warmly, as she did most strangers. "Leah, nice to meet you Peter fucking Wentz."

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters:  - Published: 2006/08/15 - Updated: 2006/08/15 - 761 words

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Leah kicked the rocks in front of with the tow of her chucks. It was two am and she had a long walk home. Fucking Brice. Left her ass there after the show. Too much pot.

"Fuck you Peter fucking Wentz!?" She heard a girl yell from behind her, she didn't turn her head to avoid starring.

"Come back inside Ally, its fucking freezing out here." Peter (or so she assumed.) called after the retreating figure of a girl whom she thought to be Ally.
"Anything is better than being in that van with you!" Ally shot back, not bothering to even call over her shoulder but merely extend a middle finger raised in the air.
Peter, or so she assumed, sighed loudly then let out a slightly frustrated growl before she heard him kick the wall a few feet behind her. It was then that she turned around, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm Pete." His words were jumbled, and he seemed shy as he walked toward where she sat on the cold concrete.

Leah smiled up at him warmly, as she did most strangers. "Leah, nice to meet you Peter fucking Wentz."
He blushed wildly in the dim parking lot light, and ran a hand through his hair, "About that..."
"Its fine, you don?t have to explain to me. But if you'd like, I'll listen." She cut him off gesturing to the space of curb beside her.
"Thanks, I appreciate it." He said taking up the space she'd offered. He paused a moment in mental debate about telling this girl his woes. Impulse got the better of him and the words flew from his mouth. "Ally and I... we're complicated. She's this amazing girl most of the time, but when I leave with the band its like I cease to exist in her mind. And with me goes all the bounds of our /relationship/. So when I come home I hear how all the while I was out on tour she was with so and so, and what's-his-face. It sparks an argument, then I get depressed write an albums worth of songs about her. Later we usually make-up and she goes back to being that amazing girl I fell for the first time. But its just getting old, you know? The older I get, more disinclined I am to stick with the same old scenario. So, I try telling her this. And well, you know the rest."

She only nodded in response waiting for him to finish and when he did she leaned over and enveloped her arms around him, "Sorry, I don't mean to be forward, you just sounded like you could use one."
"Thanks," He nodded with a slight smile. "I can't believe I just told you all of that. My best friends don't know most of that."
"I have that effect of people." She said as she cracked her knuckles with an all too proud look upon her face.
"Came to see the show?" He asked in a feeble attempt to keep her talking to him. She seemed nice enough, and he really didn't want to go back in the van to sit alone.
"Yeah, you're in Fail Oat Bay right? Strange name for a band, unique enough. Just strange" Her eye brow arched with her smirk, and she silently hoped she'd gotten the band name right.
Pete stifled a laugh, that was one of the best/worst screw up of Fall Out Boy he'd ever heard, "Its Fall Out Boy, actually but you were close enough."

Leah blushed just as red as he had moments ago, "That was no where near close, but thanks for humoring me nonetheless. I really liked your set though."
"You're right, it was pretty lame. So, if the show ended," he stopped to check the time on his cell phone "Three and a half hours ago, do you mind me asking why you're still here?"
"Pot head roommate." she stated simply. "Never remembers to pick me up."
"Oh, well if you want I could drop you off, I mean I don't know where you live but we've got to drive back to Wilmette so it can't be that far off." He offered pointing aimlessly down the street.
Leah debated her choices silently, walk home in the cold Chicago winter, or accept a ride from some bassist she just met. Who's van very well may have a heater, her hands were in need of thawing. "Sure, that'd be great. I only live a few miles up that way."
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