Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Things I Miss The Most
Pete nodded at the guitar tech as he was handed his bass guitar. He lifted it over his head and played with it until it was sitting comfortably around his waist. Patrick came over, his own guitar in his hand, fiddling with his ear piece. "Just relax, Pete. Once you get out there, you'll be okay."
Pete nodded, and followed Patrick into the chorus of screams and adoring cheers from the crowd. As usual, they performed their usual routine high five and parted to their places on the stage which were marked with white tape.
Patrick strummed his guitar and, like he always did while playing the first song, absorbed himself in the first riff, jumping around just as wildly as Joe was, before standing still behind the microphone and singing. Pete suddenly realized he was standing doing nothing, and attracting strange looks from members of the crowd. Joe was shooting him weird looks from when he faced him, and Andy raised his head above the drum kit to look at him questioningly. He jumped into action and tried his best to get into the song, but for the first time, the stage wasn't taking his mind off anything. Everywhere he looked, he saw Ariana's face grinning at him, her eyes the exact same color as her mother's, and the same wicked smile Pete had adorning her face.
"Pete, try and take your mind off it, please. I know it's not easy, but it'll be harder when there's fans wondering what the fuck's wrong with you." Patrick said, pleadingly, during the 5 minute break they had while Dirty took to the stage and got the crowd energized again.
"I'm gonna do it." Pete said.
"Do what?"
"Call Marla. Get my life back. Get my family back."
Patrick smiled and nodded brightly as he gave him a high five. "That's great dude, but after the show, not right now!" He laughed as he fixed his hat. "It's going to be amazing, but let's just get through tonight." He told him.
Pete nodded as he fixed his bass a large smile on his face. Now all he could think about was holding his baby and getting to see her. He knew she hadn't started walking yet, so maybe he'd be there for that! And, maybe he could teach her to say Daddy. Ariana was the only thing on his mind.
Getting back on the stage, Pete was definitely more into the show then he had been before the break. He was imagining that he was performing for his daughter and he was going to make her proud. He wanted to be a father that she could be proud of. She was going to smile brightly and say, "Yeah, my dad is Pete Wentz." And, it was going to mean something.
"Alright, let's go home boys." Joe said with a grin, stepping onto the bus. They always got excited when they went back to Chicago. Somehow everything seemed worth it when they managed the time to see their friends and families. Andy, Patrick and Joe finally got to spend time with their girlfriends, and they were especially stoked for them to finish the remainder of the tour traveling with them. Thank God for summer vacations. But for Pete, going back home this time would be even more special, because this time he had the chance of seeing his little girl. He opened his laptop up again, and let his eyes scan the screen at his background, which was the birthday picture of Ariana. She was so beautiful. It was hard for him to believe this tiny girl, this human being was genetically linked to him. That half of him made her.
"Pete, dude, didn't your mom ever tell you that you get square eyes if you look at a TV or computer for too long?" Patrick asked with a laugh.
"I can't help it." Pete whispered. Now he was physically aching to see Ariana. And Marla.
He thought of all the nights they'd spent, lying in each other's arms, enjoying the silence and the feel of each other's skin on one another as they breathed together. He could still remember Marla's shocking blue eyes, gazing into his own chocolate brown as they smiled at each other. On nights like that, there were no words.
Pete picked his cell phone out of his back pocket and dialed one very familiar number. It rang five times and he bit his lip as he anxiously waited for an answer. Patrick watched him, his own cell phone in his hands. Pete sure was enthusiastic. He obviously couldn't wait until they were in Chicago.
"Mom?"
Patrick leant back. At least it was his mom. Pete would be cheerful for at least another night.
"Mom, do you have Marla's number?"
He paused as his mother spoke on the other line, words that were voiceless to Patrick sitting opposite.
"I want to see Ariana."
Pete nodded as he listened to is mother pretty much lecture him about how he couldn't walk in and out of his daughter's life. That if he were going to go into her life now he could not just walk out for good.
"Mom, I know, please just give me Marla's telephone number." He begged with her as he made motions to Patrick to give him a piece of paper and a pen.
Patrick reached out and grabbed the pen and paper off the counter as he passed it to Pete who quickly scribbled down the number his mother had given to him.
"Thanks, Mom. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye." He said as he hung up the phone and looked at Patrick. "Should I call now?" He bit his lip. It was about eleven o'clock where they were, which meant it was only ten o'clock in Chicago.
Patrick shrugged. He couldn't tell Pete what to do all the time. Plus he had a nagging feeling that if he did, and something went wrong, he would feel responsible.
Pete bit his lip and pondered what to do. "Maybe I could just turn up at the door tomorrow. She might think it was romantic."
"Pete, I really don't think she's just going to open her arms for you and let you fall into them."
'Patrick, quit putting downers on it."
"I'm not. I'm just trying to make you understand she's not stupid, and this isn't a movie. You aren't Romeo and Juliet. Somehow I think she'll be a bit resentful."
Pete thought about it, what Patrick said did make sense. But he still had a vision of him turning up at the door and kissing her, then she would take him to look at his daughter, sleeping peacefully. He shook his head. Patrick was right. It wasn't a movie.
"You told me to go for this though, man? What should I do? You don't think I should call, you don't think I should go there, then what do I do man?" He ran his hands through his hair. "I just want to get them back, I want to meet my daughter like I should have twelve months ago. It should have been me in that room when she was born..." He shook his head. "Please help me!" He protested as he held the number tightly in his hand. Shaking his head he looked at Patrick. "I'm going to call her in the morning." He got up from his seat and walked to the back of the bus.
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Pete nodded, and followed Patrick into the chorus of screams and adoring cheers from the crowd. As usual, they performed their usual routine high five and parted to their places on the stage which were marked with white tape.
Patrick strummed his guitar and, like he always did while playing the first song, absorbed himself in the first riff, jumping around just as wildly as Joe was, before standing still behind the microphone and singing. Pete suddenly realized he was standing doing nothing, and attracting strange looks from members of the crowd. Joe was shooting him weird looks from when he faced him, and Andy raised his head above the drum kit to look at him questioningly. He jumped into action and tried his best to get into the song, but for the first time, the stage wasn't taking his mind off anything. Everywhere he looked, he saw Ariana's face grinning at him, her eyes the exact same color as her mother's, and the same wicked smile Pete had adorning her face.
"Pete, try and take your mind off it, please. I know it's not easy, but it'll be harder when there's fans wondering what the fuck's wrong with you." Patrick said, pleadingly, during the 5 minute break they had while Dirty took to the stage and got the crowd energized again.
"I'm gonna do it." Pete said.
"Do what?"
"Call Marla. Get my life back. Get my family back."
Patrick smiled and nodded brightly as he gave him a high five. "That's great dude, but after the show, not right now!" He laughed as he fixed his hat. "It's going to be amazing, but let's just get through tonight." He told him.
Pete nodded as he fixed his bass a large smile on his face. Now all he could think about was holding his baby and getting to see her. He knew she hadn't started walking yet, so maybe he'd be there for that! And, maybe he could teach her to say Daddy. Ariana was the only thing on his mind.
Getting back on the stage, Pete was definitely more into the show then he had been before the break. He was imagining that he was performing for his daughter and he was going to make her proud. He wanted to be a father that she could be proud of. She was going to smile brightly and say, "Yeah, my dad is Pete Wentz." And, it was going to mean something.
"Alright, let's go home boys." Joe said with a grin, stepping onto the bus. They always got excited when they went back to Chicago. Somehow everything seemed worth it when they managed the time to see their friends and families. Andy, Patrick and Joe finally got to spend time with their girlfriends, and they were especially stoked for them to finish the remainder of the tour traveling with them. Thank God for summer vacations. But for Pete, going back home this time would be even more special, because this time he had the chance of seeing his little girl. He opened his laptop up again, and let his eyes scan the screen at his background, which was the birthday picture of Ariana. She was so beautiful. It was hard for him to believe this tiny girl, this human being was genetically linked to him. That half of him made her.
"Pete, dude, didn't your mom ever tell you that you get square eyes if you look at a TV or computer for too long?" Patrick asked with a laugh.
"I can't help it." Pete whispered. Now he was physically aching to see Ariana. And Marla.
He thought of all the nights they'd spent, lying in each other's arms, enjoying the silence and the feel of each other's skin on one another as they breathed together. He could still remember Marla's shocking blue eyes, gazing into his own chocolate brown as they smiled at each other. On nights like that, there were no words.
Pete picked his cell phone out of his back pocket and dialed one very familiar number. It rang five times and he bit his lip as he anxiously waited for an answer. Patrick watched him, his own cell phone in his hands. Pete sure was enthusiastic. He obviously couldn't wait until they were in Chicago.
"Mom?"
Patrick leant back. At least it was his mom. Pete would be cheerful for at least another night.
"Mom, do you have Marla's number?"
He paused as his mother spoke on the other line, words that were voiceless to Patrick sitting opposite.
"I want to see Ariana."
Pete nodded as he listened to is mother pretty much lecture him about how he couldn't walk in and out of his daughter's life. That if he were going to go into her life now he could not just walk out for good.
"Mom, I know, please just give me Marla's telephone number." He begged with her as he made motions to Patrick to give him a piece of paper and a pen.
Patrick reached out and grabbed the pen and paper off the counter as he passed it to Pete who quickly scribbled down the number his mother had given to him.
"Thanks, Mom. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye." He said as he hung up the phone and looked at Patrick. "Should I call now?" He bit his lip. It was about eleven o'clock where they were, which meant it was only ten o'clock in Chicago.
Patrick shrugged. He couldn't tell Pete what to do all the time. Plus he had a nagging feeling that if he did, and something went wrong, he would feel responsible.
Pete bit his lip and pondered what to do. "Maybe I could just turn up at the door tomorrow. She might think it was romantic."
"Pete, I really don't think she's just going to open her arms for you and let you fall into them."
'Patrick, quit putting downers on it."
"I'm not. I'm just trying to make you understand she's not stupid, and this isn't a movie. You aren't Romeo and Juliet. Somehow I think she'll be a bit resentful."
Pete thought about it, what Patrick said did make sense. But he still had a vision of him turning up at the door and kissing her, then she would take him to look at his daughter, sleeping peacefully. He shook his head. Patrick was right. It wasn't a movie.
"You told me to go for this though, man? What should I do? You don't think I should call, you don't think I should go there, then what do I do man?" He ran his hands through his hair. "I just want to get them back, I want to meet my daughter like I should have twelve months ago. It should have been me in that room when she was born..." He shook his head. "Please help me!" He protested as he held the number tightly in his hand. Shaking his head he looked at Patrick. "I'm going to call her in the morning." He got up from his seat and walked to the back of the bus.
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