Four guys in a band living in one house. What could be funnier than that? Throw in two girls, a handful of humor, a pinch of romance, and one tablespoon of drama and you've got something interestin...
My Heart Will Always Be the B-Side to My Tongue
Chapter Eleven: Love Will Tear Us Apart
Why is this bedroom so cold,
Turned away on your side?
Is my timing that flawed,
Our respect run so dry?
Cait walked down the hallway slowly. Everything had been cleared up from the pool incident last Tuesday, and the end of the week neared faster than any of the group could have imagined.
"Yeah... I know." She heard Patrick's voice coming through his door, which it seemed he had tried to close, but the sweatshirt hanging over the top kept it from doing so. "I know, I understand that. But it just doesn't work that way..." He said, sounding frustrated. Cait knew it was wrong to listen in, but she couldn't help herself. Little did she know at the time it would completely destroy her.
"I get that, but it still won't work, not unless I go there for a while... I know, I know." There was a pause. "Alright... Uh huh, bye. Of course I love you." Cait's breath caught in her throat.
Patrick was cheating on her? Or was he using her to cheat on someone else? Wait, this was Patrick. Patrick wasn't evil enough to cheat; he was possibly the sweetest thing on the planet. But, she had heard it with her own ears.
The words raced through her head. "...Not unless I go there for a while..." "...It just doesn't work that way..." "...Of course I love you..." Cait felt her eyes well up with tears and she ran back to her room, slamming the door as she rushed in.
For now, she just felt like running away from her problem.
About an hour later, Patrick was making his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. The rest of the boys were sitting at the kitchen table. Andy and Joe were talking about something, and Pete was eating cereal and reading the newspaper.
"I know, but that was so lame." Andy said to Joe.
"Yeah, but it was cool at the time... Just like your scarf in the 'A Little Less Sixteen Candles' video... Cool at the time, but totally lame now." Joe responded, then took a drink of his water bottle.
"Anyone seen Cait?" Patrick asked, sitting down on a stool. Everyone thought for a moment.
Andy shook his head. "Nope."
"Last time I saw her was early this morning; she was down here eating when I came to get a drink." Pete replied.
"Last night was the last time I saw Cait... Weren't you talking to her this morning? I heard you talking to someone in your room..." Joe said.
"Nah, I was on the phone with my mom." Patrick responded.
"Oh, alright then. How's she doing?" Joe asked. Patrick's mom had made a few appearances, and everyone always loved her.
"She's alright... She's weird though... She's got this whole big thing she's planning, and I really don't feel like going all the way to her summer home in Florida to go... I mean, I love my mom and all, but I'd rather stay here than travel on the only time I actually have off from traveling." Patrick explained.
"Your mom is crazy, dude..." Pete said, and then went back to the paper, where he was reading the comics, the only section that ever interested him. The rest of the paper was just kind of thrown to the side.
"Well... I gotta to go find Cait." Patrick said, standing up.
Tara walked into the kitchen then "Looking for Cait? Check her room first, then the attic..."
"Thanks." Patrick responded, bounding up the stairs. He got to Cait's door and called her name, then knocked. "Caitie, are you in there?" There was no response. He knocked again. "Caitie?" Nothing. He tried to turn the knob, but it was locked.
That was unusual. Why would Cait have to lock her door? As far as Patrick knew she'd only ever locked it once, and that was when he was in the room with her.
"Caitie, open the door..." He said, knocking on it again. He sighed and went back down stairs.
"She's not there?" Tara asked, seeing the look on Patrick's face.
"She's there. Her bedroom door is locked..." He said, sitting down at the table and putting his face in his hands with a huff. "She wouldn't respond when I knocked, or when I called her name, but I know she's in there. She's gotta be in there, why else would the door be locked?" His voice was muffled by his hands, but everyone could hear what he was saying anyway.
Everyone seemed to get a concerned look on their faces. If there was something going on between the 'perfect couple' then there was trouble in paradise, and that was never expected to happen.
Tara walked over, and rubbed Patrick's back sympathetically. "You want me to see if she'll come out of her room?" She asked, leaning over next to him. He kind of nodded into his hands. "Kay, I'll be back... I'm sure everything's fine and it's got nothing to do with you."
Tara was next to be running up the stairs. She knocked on Cait's door. "Caitlyn Ann Fischer you open this door right now!" Cait didn't respond.
"Kay, full name threatening does not work..." Tara said quietly to herself.
She knocked again. "Don't make me get Pete and Joe to knock down your door... Let me in right now! Cait, I'm not kidding. The guys will be more than happy to knock down your door!" Tara said again, knocking so hard her knuckles hurt.
She smiled, and pulled a bobby pin out of her hair, causing her bangs to fall into her eyes. She blew at them, but failed to do anything more than mess them up. She sighed, and put the bobby pin in the lock, twisting it and turning it until she finally heard it click. She smiled at herself, pushed the door open and stepped inside, then closed it behind her.
Cait was lying on her bed on her stomach, her face buried in a pillow, as her body shook from crying that she had obviously been doing all morning. Tara immediately felt her throat start to tighten as she saw her friend like that. She took a deep breath to compose herself. She needed to be strong for Cait, who was obviously having some sort of problem at the moment.
"Cait," Tara said softly, walking over and sitting down on the bed. "Cait, what's the matter?" Tara asked, putting her hand on Cait's back.
Cait shuddered violently, trying to get Tara's hand off of her. "Go away..." She choked, her voice muffled by the pillow.
"Cait, come on, stop this. The last time I saw you this way--," Tara stopped herself. She didn't want to make Cait even more upset than she already was. But the last time she had seen Cait that way, Cait's mother had just died after fighting six years of a losing battle to cancer. "I don't want to remember the last time I saw you like this." Or maybe the last time she'd seen the girl in such a state was the day that she'd stolen her first love from her. Yeah, that time. The day she flipped out on Tara for kissing Pete...
Cait slowly lifted her head. Her face was red and tear-stained. "I don't wanna talk about it right now..." She said, almost gasping for air. She was crying so hard, the girl was running herself out of breath.
"Patrick is really torn up; he thinks he's done something..."
"I said I don't wanna talk about it Tara."
"He did didn't he?"
"What on Earth could Patrick have done to upset you this much?"
"For the fourth time Tara! I don't want to talk about it!"
"Cait, you're talking whether you want to or not."
"No I'm not..."
"You are if I say you are; now tell me what's bothering you."
"Go away Tara..." Cait buried her face in her pillow again.
"I'm not leaving until you talk to me..."
"Be prepared to sit for a few days, maybe even years..." Cait mumbled into the pillow.
"No Cait, you're talking now..."
"Don't waste my time with this shit Cait! Come on, you can't trust me?"
"I just don't wanna talk about it right now..."
"Later Tara... Just leave me alone..."
"Cait, I know how you get when you're upset. You make rash decisions, and potentially ruin things that are important to you. I'm not gonna let you talk to anyone until you're out of this funk..." Tara said as she stood up.
"I'll be back to check up on you in a few hours Cait, unless you come down... But I promise you, I care about you, and I know there are four other people in this house who do as well..." Tara said, shutting the door. She immediately heard Cait get up and lock it again.
Tara sighed. She felt bad for Patrick, who believed he did something that upset Cait, who was probably the most important thing in his life. She was even more important than the band, and that was big for the lead singer of a band to say, that someone was more important than his band.
Patrick was still sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands when Tara came back down, about twenty minutes after she had left. He looked up at her, his eyes pleading for her to tell him that everything was okay, and that maybe Cait's door was just jammed, or something.
But that's not what she would tell him. And she hated being in this position, being in a place that would completely break someone. "She's really upset about something... She looks like she's been crying since this morning..."
Patrick groaned. This could not possibly get worse for him. His girlfriend was upset, probably at him; but for what? He had no Earthly idea. "Why? Did you find out what's bothering her?"
"No... She won't tell me, and I'd really rather let her calm down and then tell me anyway..." Tara responded.
"Wonder what it is..." Pete said, standing up with his bowl in one hand, and the carton of skim milk in the other. He had not decided to be adventurous that morning, well, afternoon. Pete was a little late on breakfast today.
"I don't know what I did... Why did she let you in but not me?" Patrick asked, looking up at Tara.
"She didn't exactly let me in... I kind of picked her lock," she poked the bobby pin in her hair.
Patrick nodded. "Did she say anything at all?"
"Just to leave her alone... But I asked her if you did anything and she got really mad at me." Tara said, sitting down across from Patrick.
"I don't know what I did! I don't get this! I do absolutely nothing and I still manage to fuck up something!" Patrick slammed his fist against the table. He closed his eyes and sighed.
Tara and Pete both backed up at the same time. Patrick never really got angry, or upset, so this was relatively new. He only got mad when he was kidding around, but he did slap Pete in the face once.
"Sorry..." He mumbled when he realized what he'd done. He was racking his brain for anything he could have possibly said or done to Cait to make her this upset at him. But he wasn't coming up with anything.
"Tara, when she does talk to you, please tell me right away whatever she tells you..." He said, rubbing his eyes and willing himself not to cry.
"Of course Patrick. You'd be the first person I'd tell anyway..." She said, with a smile. She was trying to give him the sign that there was indeed hope in the situation, tell him that there was a light he wasn't seeing at the end of the tunnel, and that he wasn't walking right into his grave. But he didn't see her smile, he had put his face in his hands again.
"What did I do?" He asked himself, standing up and walking towards the basement door. He opened it slowly, and walked in, slamming it behind him with a great amount of force.
"Note to self: Don't ever get Cait pissed... Patrick will rip your head off." Pete mumbled, staring after the usually cool calm and collected Patrick Stump.
"Sounds like a plan..." Andy mumbled from somewhere to his right.
The sounds of a guitar drifted from the basement, and they all decided mentally to not go down there until Patrick came upstairs again.
I don't know what I did. I have no godly idea what I did. No idea.
Why? Why me? Why is this happening to me? I feel so paranoid right now, but I can't help it. It feels like my world is falling apart. If Cait is mad at me, and she leaves me, I don't know what I'll do. I don't know how I'll survive.
It's not even like she has somewhere else to go other than her dad's house, and that's not even in Illinois. He lives all the way in California, and that's pretty far away.
And, besides what I could have done wrong, the only thing that's going through my mind are the lyrics to /Love Will Tear Us Apart/... Great thing to be thinking when your girlfriend's mad at you isn't it?
So, what do I do? Storm off to the basement, and play the song on my guitar and sing it loud until my throat hurts so bad I can't sing anymore... Yeah, that's sure a good way to spend a day.