Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy
Angels and Kings
2 ReviewsBut that's what was wrong with people nowadays, they just care too much about you when you're dying, and not enough when you're alive.
The monstrous, twisting towers of the city seemed to bend and shake in the wind. The city sky was pained a lonely blue, deep and saddened by the smoke that was covering it's face and the winds were not as harsh as they could be. There were only a few cars that sat, unused, on the sides of the road and all the life of the city seemed to be empty, except one person walking alone on the sidewalk. His hair was tasseled and his face was shrouded in the hood of his jacket, he walked with his head down, almost as if he was examining the sidewalk rather than walking on it.
This was the night he should have been resting, but he had too much to do and too much on his mind that kept him from sleeping. His glance never carried from the sidewalk and his lips carried an unfamiliar frown. The same frown you wear after you've heard the bad news about a loved one's passing, or that you have very little time left to live. But this look, was almost like his home, this look was what he had been wearing on the inside for a while. It wasn't until he was alone that he could finally bring it to the surface.
He let his thoughts swim around inside his head as he walked down the dimly lit city sidewalk, but he never forgot where he was heading. There were many things on his mind at the moment, but he had to stay focused on where he had to be, soon. His mind was coated in thoughts like, 'Why is this happening to me?' and 'I can't stay long, I'll just let everyone down again...' and it was because of these thoughts that he wanted to hide himself from the world. Fake a plane crash so that he could be at peace, stage a car accident and go into a coma. But he would let his fans down if he did.
This, these slews of thoughts, worries and emotions, this is the life of Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. But you probably know him, more suitably, as Pete Wentz or that bassist guy in Fall Out Boy. The place that he's heading? His nightclub, Angels and Kings.
It never really occurred to anyone why he chose that name, of all names. Most people thought that it was just his over metaphorical term for life, and others just though he used it because it was catchy. But no one would ever guess that there was another meaning behind it all, something much more clandestine, secret, and deeper than pretty metaphors for overdose in a parking lot.
But he kept his head down, walking alone to the place he was needed. He didn't want to be there, to fake another smile, to laugh when he was dying inside, but he knew he would have to if he wanted to keep himself free of suspicion and questions. But that's what was wrong with people nowadays, they just care too much about you when you're dying, and not enough when you're alive.
[[Please review. I have HUGE plans for this story, and if I get enough reviews I will continue it.]]
This was the night he should have been resting, but he had too much to do and too much on his mind that kept him from sleeping. His glance never carried from the sidewalk and his lips carried an unfamiliar frown. The same frown you wear after you've heard the bad news about a loved one's passing, or that you have very little time left to live. But this look, was almost like his home, this look was what he had been wearing on the inside for a while. It wasn't until he was alone that he could finally bring it to the surface.
He let his thoughts swim around inside his head as he walked down the dimly lit city sidewalk, but he never forgot where he was heading. There were many things on his mind at the moment, but he had to stay focused on where he had to be, soon. His mind was coated in thoughts like, 'Why is this happening to me?' and 'I can't stay long, I'll just let everyone down again...' and it was because of these thoughts that he wanted to hide himself from the world. Fake a plane crash so that he could be at peace, stage a car accident and go into a coma. But he would let his fans down if he did.
This, these slews of thoughts, worries and emotions, this is the life of Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. But you probably know him, more suitably, as Pete Wentz or that bassist guy in Fall Out Boy. The place that he's heading? His nightclub, Angels and Kings.
It never really occurred to anyone why he chose that name, of all names. Most people thought that it was just his over metaphorical term for life, and others just though he used it because it was catchy. But no one would ever guess that there was another meaning behind it all, something much more clandestine, secret, and deeper than pretty metaphors for overdose in a parking lot.
But he kept his head down, walking alone to the place he was needed. He didn't want to be there, to fake another smile, to laugh when he was dying inside, but he knew he would have to if he wanted to keep himself free of suspicion and questions. But that's what was wrong with people nowadays, they just care too much about you when you're dying, and not enough when you're alive.
[[Please review. I have HUGE plans for this story, and if I get enough reviews I will continue it.]]
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