Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Welcome to my Life
MrSz-Or3o: Sorry I annoyed you, but you'll know soon!
ficfriction: yep, you didn't get my virginity this time, but there is always this chapter! And don't slap me, cause if you do, you're not gonna find out the sexes!
fob2adelaide: Thanks for the comfort in knowing my descrptions aren't annoying and long. And yes, you will find out the baby sexes in this chapter.
Chapter 25:
A couple of days had passed since we found the tuxes. I had been busy working with Patrick and Andy on lyrics for my album, discussing with Pete the possibility of having a Fall Out Boy cover too, and contemplating with Joe as to whether I should shoot a video before the album was out - a home-movie video, with the actual ones after the albums release done properly. I decided upon a home movie one for "Stop Being a Scene Kid, and Live A Little", a song which I was currently singing in the recording booth.
"Keep in time with us, share the beauty of existance
From the crystal clear waters to the dancing fans
Take the time to get to know a friend
Have a little dance to the songs we sing
To this song that I wrote
Shake a little more than now, dance closer to me, dance closer to me
Take a little step to the side and see
That just because I wear black, doesn't make me "scene"
And it doesn't make me evil
It makes you and me indiviual
Yeah
Travel down the road, find someone new
And, don't forget, just to be you
First you told a secret, now tell a lie
Don't fall away
Cause you're you, and perfect the way you are
Shake a little more than now, dance closer to me, dance closer to me
Take a little step to the side and see
That just because I wear black, doesn't make me "scene"
And it doesn't make me evil
It makes you and me indiviual
All these places that I've been
All these places I've been doesn't compare to being myself, no way
You gotta live your life the way you want to
Not according to some rules or someone else
Just be yourself
Shake a little more than now, dance closer to me, dance closer to me
Take a little step to the side and see
That just because I dress the way I do, doesn't make me a label, no
It doesn't make me different, no way
It makes you and me individual, yeah, woah
Individual, yeah, thats all it does
We're individual, always and forever
Individual" I sang into the microphone, a smile plastered on my face, knowing this was to song I wanted to do the home clip from, using shots from the studio, from around the house, and from the wedding.
"That was... perfect Alexiz. On your first try with this song and everything," Patrick said from the technical booth. I removed the headphones, walking into his comfort room, plopping down in the seat next to him, lightly rubbing my stomach.
"Thanks Trickster. When do you want to put the instruments and backing in?"
"Well, I thought we'd do the instruments for this one tomorrow, as the MCR guys are coming for a brief run-over of the tour plan. I was going to ask them to record with us, so you still have your mixture," he replied, looking up, still pressing a few buttons.
"That would be fantastic. Frank's constantly telling me that I have to get him to record guitar on one song on my album, ever since I was 14," I replied, laughing at the memories.
**
"God Alexiz, your voice is amazing! You are so going to be signed to a record label when we graduate high school!" Frankie squealed, jumping up and down as I finished my audition for the school musical, The Wizard of Oz.
"No, I'm not Frankie. I'll be lucky to get accepted into a performing arts program in college," I sighed, walking from the auditorium to our hang-out spot under the oak tree.
"Baby, you're gonna get into Julliard, and then get a record contract when you graduate. It's me and the guys who will go nowhere," Frank said, pulling me into his arms and kissing me lightly. I snuggled in deeper, revelling in the comfort, until Gerard, Mikey and Ray come over, interrupting our little cuddle session.
"You guys will get a record deal before me. The world won't know what hit them when My Chemical Romance steps onto the scene," I stated, and Frank smiled, knowing I was right that they would get a deal, just like he knew I was getting Dorothy.
**
"Alexiz, who do you want for the backing vocals for this track?" Patrick asked, breaking me out of my sentimental moment.
"Uhhum... Well, I'd love to have you, William and... umm, either Hayley or Alex," I replied. He jotted down the names, getting up from the chair and heading towards the door to the room.
"Uh, Patrick?"
"Oh, sorry. Lunch break. Only an hour, and remember, no -"
"Dairy, cause it messes with your vocal chords. I know Patty, I did attend Julliard for eight years," I sighed rolling my eyes as I followed Patrick out, heading to the office down the corridor where I'd left my laptop. Logging into it, I found I had an offline IM from Ryan.
Pretty.Oddly.Ordinary.Ross (10:17:35 AM): Alexiz, hurry and check out Rolling Stone. It came out this morning and there's a piece about you which you have to read.
I started panicking, closing my laptop suddenly and racing out the building to the news-stand across the road, hurriedly purchasing the new issue of Rolling Stone, where on the cover was a photo of me, Ryan and Pete taken from a party we had at AK7 after the boys returned from the Asia tour. And the caption?
New twist in Wentz-Asher relationship
I retreated back to the studio, sitting in the office, my laptop open, knowing Ryan should be logging on soon - he always seemed to be on at 1:15... don't know why, but every day like clockwork, he is.
I flung open the cover, heading to the page the article about us was on. The picture alone was enough to give me a heart attack. It was a shot of Ryan and I in the baby store, him holding a little blue blanket, myself holding a pink onesie, both of us laughing at something, with his spare arm around my waist, and my head dangerously close to his. Looking at the other pictures they had stuck on the page, the sight got worse. There was one of Pete and I together, looking like we were arguing when in actual fact it was my hormones on the fritz; one of Ryan and I holding hands, walking in the parks during sunset - Ryan Ross is my friend people!; one of Pete and I looking like a couple hiding something; and one of Ryan and Pete arguing - once again, AK7 when they were contemplating which song was better - Eleanor Rigby or Beat It. From the images alone, I was sweating profusely. But I read the article like Ryan told me too. However, before I started, an IM popped up.
Pretty.Oddly.Ordinary.Ross (1:15:01 PM): Have you read it yet?
Vampyre.Twylite (1:15:20 PM): Not yet, saw the pictures though. No joke when I say I almost died
Pretty.Oddly.Ordinary.Ross (1:15:54 PM): Hun, read it and call Pete, thats all I can say. I've got to go now, the boys are back from the store. Call me after Pete and we can work things out.
Vampyre.Twylite (1:16:32 PM): Okay, will do Ry... bye!
My head instantly went back down, reading the horror article.
You may be asking, what has Wentz done now? Well I have news for you. It's not Wentz that has doomed his latest relationship, but actually his fiancee, Alexiz Asher, who has been seen shopping for baby clothes with, and being extremely close to Panic At the Disco guitarist and lyricist Ryan Ross. Here at R.S, we feel for Pete, as the father of the children Alexiz is carrying have the possiblity of not being his.
"It's complicated at home right now. I have an eleven week pregnant girlfriend, who's stressing about work, life, who the father of the child is, songwriting and singing," Pete told interviewer Hallie Crame on September 9th. We found out two days ago that the father might be Ryan Ross. As you can see from the pictures, niether Ryan and Pete or Pete and Alexiz have been getting on well, and Alexiz and Ryan seem to be close - so close they're almost making out in baby stores while shopping for little clothes for the twins, which appear to be a boy and a girl.
I couldn't continue reading as tears were free flowing down my cheeks, dropping onto the magazine with a gentle 'splash'. I hasitly wiped them away, calming my ragged breathing before picking up my cell and calling Pete.
"Hey Baby, what's wrong?" He asked, knowing I was in the studio all day.
"Rolling Stone," was all I got out.
"What about it?"
"Page 62, there's an article about you, me and Ryan. You told some interviewer that you didn't know who the father of the, well, at the time, baby was; and they got ahold of pictures of me and Ryan, either really close, or in one case buying baby things together. And they've found out the sexes of the twins," I sobbed, breaking down as Patrick entered the office, no doubt wondering why he could hear my rasied voice. He rushed over to me, pulling me into a friendly embrace as I could hear Pete talking to me, not paying attention to what he was saying.
"BABY!" He spoke, jolting my out of my daydream.
"Y-yes?"
"I said I'd go buy a copy, and see what it's saying. I'll get PR to cover it up, or let me do a press release myself explaining the wrongs that were printed, during which we can officially announce the sex of the twins, and that I am the father of them. It'll all blow over within the week," Pete comforted, and I said a thank you to him, hanging up and getting out the lyrics to the next song we were recording today.
"No hun, we won't record anything else today, not while you're in this state," Patrick murmured, rubbing my back softly. I pulled from his embrace, drying my tears and nodding.
"Thanks Trickster. Hey, do you want to come back to the apartment with me? Help Pete deal with the media again and stay for some food. I was going to bake cookies," I smiled, collecting all my things as Patrick thought over the propostion.
"Okay, you won me over with the promise of cookies," Patrick chuckled, and we headed back to the apartment.
*******************
When Patrick and I entered the apartment an hour later after a harrowing journey home - every person/vehicle we passed who knew who I was would stare or flip me off or yell to me; in the end, I donned a pair of sunglasses and one of Pete's larger hoodies and hurried home faster - we found Pete complaining into the phone, no doubt talking to PR about this whole situation. I gave him a small wave before being beckoned over, as he removed the phone from his ear and put it on speaker, the three of us crowding around the breakfast bar, waiting for the voice to crackle back to life. Pete sat on one stool, pulling me onto his lap and wrapping his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder as I leaned back against his chest; Patrick taking the other stool.
"Mr. Wentz, there are two ways we can approach this situation. Either we at Decaydance can attempt to cover it, or we can line you up with an interview on Letterman or Leno, which will be broadcast worldwide within the next couple of days, with a follow-up interview in AP, as they're publishing the new issue next week," the rep from Decaydance announced. Pete looked between me and Trick, with the vocalist mouthing 'do it yourself', me taking my fiancees hand and squeezing it gently, placing a kiss on his jaw directly below his ear.
"Do what you think is best baby. I'll follow you in whatever route you take," I whispered in his ear, earning a shiver from him.
"I'd like to go with the interview route, taking Alexiz with me to both so we can get the story straight together, and show the world that we are still very much in love, and ready for our children and marriage," Pete responded.
"Thank you Mr. Wentz, we shall call you back with times and dates for the interviews. Expect AP to be tomorrow morning, and the chat show in the afternoon," the rep replied, before hanging up. Pete clicked his phone off as I slipped from his lap, heading to the pantry and getting out the ingredients required to make my reknowned "Choc-Chip Peanut Butter" cookies. And yes, they are as sweet as they sound. Pete and Patrick started making something for dinner, which turned out to be homemade pasta - Pete's specialty, and tomato and basil sauce, one of the only things Patrick remembered his mother teaching him back before Stump lost the 'h'.
"No sir, well I don't wanna be the blame, not anymore. It's your turn, so take a seat we're settling the final score. And why do we like to hurt so much?
I can't decide, you have made it harder just to go on. And why, all the possibilities where I was wrong?" I started singing as I added the butter to the sugar and baking powder. Pete was looking over at me, singing and dancing as I made the cookies, Patrick with his head down, mouthing the words as I sang.
"That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating. And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa." This time Patrick joined in too.
"I wonder, how am I supposed to feel when you're not here. 'Cause I burned every bridge I ever built when you were here. I still try holding onto silly things, I never learn. Oh why, all the possibilities I'm sure you've heard.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating. And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
Pain make your way to me, to me. And I'll always be just so inviting. If I ever start to think straight, this heart will start a riot in me, let's start, start, hey!" We all sang, Pete giving into his temptation, singing with us as I added in the PB and Choc Chips to the batter and stirred, stiffening the dough before turning it out onto the counter.
"That's what you get when you let your heart win! Whoa.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. Now I can't trust myself with anything but this. And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa." I finished crooning out, Pete and Patrick applauding me as I finished. As I rolled out the dough and started cutting the cookies, Pete's cell rang. He ran to grab it, answering hastily. After a few hushed tones and nods, and me putting the cookies in to bake and washing my hands, Pete came over to Patrick and I, smiling.
"We're going on Leno to fix things. We have to leave now to make the filming, and it's being aired tomorrow night," Pete hurriedly said, grabbing my hands and leading me into the bedroom, where both of us changed into decent attire. This consisted of Pete wearing a brand new pair of black skinny jeans, a black Clandestine tee with a red bartskull on, and some checkered vans. I donned a black mini dress which showed off my pregnant stomach nicely, with a pair of fishnets, and knee high converse. Oh, and one of Pete's larger hoodies.
We made our way to the studio, where tension filled the air. This is a bad idea
Hey guys, I've cut this into two parts, seeing as it's so long. Plus I don't have that part of the chapter figured out. It should be up tomorrow or the day after, depending how well it goes. This is not even half of the original length of chapter, so I've saved your tired eyes.
ficfriction: yep, you didn't get my virginity this time, but there is always this chapter! And don't slap me, cause if you do, you're not gonna find out the sexes!
fob2adelaide: Thanks for the comfort in knowing my descrptions aren't annoying and long. And yes, you will find out the baby sexes in this chapter.
Chapter 25:
A couple of days had passed since we found the tuxes. I had been busy working with Patrick and Andy on lyrics for my album, discussing with Pete the possibility of having a Fall Out Boy cover too, and contemplating with Joe as to whether I should shoot a video before the album was out - a home-movie video, with the actual ones after the albums release done properly. I decided upon a home movie one for "Stop Being a Scene Kid, and Live A Little", a song which I was currently singing in the recording booth.
"Keep in time with us, share the beauty of existance
From the crystal clear waters to the dancing fans
Take the time to get to know a friend
Have a little dance to the songs we sing
To this song that I wrote
Shake a little more than now, dance closer to me, dance closer to me
Take a little step to the side and see
That just because I wear black, doesn't make me "scene"
And it doesn't make me evil
It makes you and me indiviual
Yeah
Travel down the road, find someone new
And, don't forget, just to be you
First you told a secret, now tell a lie
Don't fall away
Cause you're you, and perfect the way you are
Shake a little more than now, dance closer to me, dance closer to me
Take a little step to the side and see
That just because I wear black, doesn't make me "scene"
And it doesn't make me evil
It makes you and me indiviual
All these places that I've been
All these places I've been doesn't compare to being myself, no way
You gotta live your life the way you want to
Not according to some rules or someone else
Just be yourself
Shake a little more than now, dance closer to me, dance closer to me
Take a little step to the side and see
That just because I dress the way I do, doesn't make me a label, no
It doesn't make me different, no way
It makes you and me individual, yeah, woah
Individual, yeah, thats all it does
We're individual, always and forever
Individual" I sang into the microphone, a smile plastered on my face, knowing this was to song I wanted to do the home clip from, using shots from the studio, from around the house, and from the wedding.
"That was... perfect Alexiz. On your first try with this song and everything," Patrick said from the technical booth. I removed the headphones, walking into his comfort room, plopping down in the seat next to him, lightly rubbing my stomach.
"Thanks Trickster. When do you want to put the instruments and backing in?"
"Well, I thought we'd do the instruments for this one tomorrow, as the MCR guys are coming for a brief run-over of the tour plan. I was going to ask them to record with us, so you still have your mixture," he replied, looking up, still pressing a few buttons.
"That would be fantastic. Frank's constantly telling me that I have to get him to record guitar on one song on my album, ever since I was 14," I replied, laughing at the memories.
**
"God Alexiz, your voice is amazing! You are so going to be signed to a record label when we graduate high school!" Frankie squealed, jumping up and down as I finished my audition for the school musical, The Wizard of Oz.
"No, I'm not Frankie. I'll be lucky to get accepted into a performing arts program in college," I sighed, walking from the auditorium to our hang-out spot under the oak tree.
"Baby, you're gonna get into Julliard, and then get a record contract when you graduate. It's me and the guys who will go nowhere," Frank said, pulling me into his arms and kissing me lightly. I snuggled in deeper, revelling in the comfort, until Gerard, Mikey and Ray come over, interrupting our little cuddle session.
"You guys will get a record deal before me. The world won't know what hit them when My Chemical Romance steps onto the scene," I stated, and Frank smiled, knowing I was right that they would get a deal, just like he knew I was getting Dorothy.
**
"Alexiz, who do you want for the backing vocals for this track?" Patrick asked, breaking me out of my sentimental moment.
"Uhhum... Well, I'd love to have you, William and... umm, either Hayley or Alex," I replied. He jotted down the names, getting up from the chair and heading towards the door to the room.
"Uh, Patrick?"
"Oh, sorry. Lunch break. Only an hour, and remember, no -"
"Dairy, cause it messes with your vocal chords. I know Patty, I did attend Julliard for eight years," I sighed rolling my eyes as I followed Patrick out, heading to the office down the corridor where I'd left my laptop. Logging into it, I found I had an offline IM from Ryan.
Pretty.Oddly.Ordinary.Ross (10:17:35 AM): Alexiz, hurry and check out Rolling Stone. It came out this morning and there's a piece about you which you have to read.
I started panicking, closing my laptop suddenly and racing out the building to the news-stand across the road, hurriedly purchasing the new issue of Rolling Stone, where on the cover was a photo of me, Ryan and Pete taken from a party we had at AK7 after the boys returned from the Asia tour. And the caption?
New twist in Wentz-Asher relationship
I retreated back to the studio, sitting in the office, my laptop open, knowing Ryan should be logging on soon - he always seemed to be on at 1:15... don't know why, but every day like clockwork, he is.
I flung open the cover, heading to the page the article about us was on. The picture alone was enough to give me a heart attack. It was a shot of Ryan and I in the baby store, him holding a little blue blanket, myself holding a pink onesie, both of us laughing at something, with his spare arm around my waist, and my head dangerously close to his. Looking at the other pictures they had stuck on the page, the sight got worse. There was one of Pete and I together, looking like we were arguing when in actual fact it was my hormones on the fritz; one of Ryan and I holding hands, walking in the parks during sunset - Ryan Ross is my friend people!; one of Pete and I looking like a couple hiding something; and one of Ryan and Pete arguing - once again, AK7 when they were contemplating which song was better - Eleanor Rigby or Beat It. From the images alone, I was sweating profusely. But I read the article like Ryan told me too. However, before I started, an IM popped up.
Pretty.Oddly.Ordinary.Ross (1:15:01 PM): Have you read it yet?
Vampyre.Twylite (1:15:20 PM): Not yet, saw the pictures though. No joke when I say I almost died
Pretty.Oddly.Ordinary.Ross (1:15:54 PM): Hun, read it and call Pete, thats all I can say. I've got to go now, the boys are back from the store. Call me after Pete and we can work things out.
Vampyre.Twylite (1:16:32 PM): Okay, will do Ry... bye!
My head instantly went back down, reading the horror article.
You may be asking, what has Wentz done now? Well I have news for you. It's not Wentz that has doomed his latest relationship, but actually his fiancee, Alexiz Asher, who has been seen shopping for baby clothes with, and being extremely close to Panic At the Disco guitarist and lyricist Ryan Ross. Here at R.S, we feel for Pete, as the father of the children Alexiz is carrying have the possiblity of not being his.
"It's complicated at home right now. I have an eleven week pregnant girlfriend, who's stressing about work, life, who the father of the child is, songwriting and singing," Pete told interviewer Hallie Crame on September 9th. We found out two days ago that the father might be Ryan Ross. As you can see from the pictures, niether Ryan and Pete or Pete and Alexiz have been getting on well, and Alexiz and Ryan seem to be close - so close they're almost making out in baby stores while shopping for little clothes for the twins, which appear to be a boy and a girl.
I couldn't continue reading as tears were free flowing down my cheeks, dropping onto the magazine with a gentle 'splash'. I hasitly wiped them away, calming my ragged breathing before picking up my cell and calling Pete.
"Hey Baby, what's wrong?" He asked, knowing I was in the studio all day.
"Rolling Stone," was all I got out.
"What about it?"
"Page 62, there's an article about you, me and Ryan. You told some interviewer that you didn't know who the father of the, well, at the time, baby was; and they got ahold of pictures of me and Ryan, either really close, or in one case buying baby things together. And they've found out the sexes of the twins," I sobbed, breaking down as Patrick entered the office, no doubt wondering why he could hear my rasied voice. He rushed over to me, pulling me into a friendly embrace as I could hear Pete talking to me, not paying attention to what he was saying.
"BABY!" He spoke, jolting my out of my daydream.
"Y-yes?"
"I said I'd go buy a copy, and see what it's saying. I'll get PR to cover it up, or let me do a press release myself explaining the wrongs that were printed, during which we can officially announce the sex of the twins, and that I am the father of them. It'll all blow over within the week," Pete comforted, and I said a thank you to him, hanging up and getting out the lyrics to the next song we were recording today.
"No hun, we won't record anything else today, not while you're in this state," Patrick murmured, rubbing my back softly. I pulled from his embrace, drying my tears and nodding.
"Thanks Trickster. Hey, do you want to come back to the apartment with me? Help Pete deal with the media again and stay for some food. I was going to bake cookies," I smiled, collecting all my things as Patrick thought over the propostion.
"Okay, you won me over with the promise of cookies," Patrick chuckled, and we headed back to the apartment.
*******************
When Patrick and I entered the apartment an hour later after a harrowing journey home - every person/vehicle we passed who knew who I was would stare or flip me off or yell to me; in the end, I donned a pair of sunglasses and one of Pete's larger hoodies and hurried home faster - we found Pete complaining into the phone, no doubt talking to PR about this whole situation. I gave him a small wave before being beckoned over, as he removed the phone from his ear and put it on speaker, the three of us crowding around the breakfast bar, waiting for the voice to crackle back to life. Pete sat on one stool, pulling me onto his lap and wrapping his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder as I leaned back against his chest; Patrick taking the other stool.
"Mr. Wentz, there are two ways we can approach this situation. Either we at Decaydance can attempt to cover it, or we can line you up with an interview on Letterman or Leno, which will be broadcast worldwide within the next couple of days, with a follow-up interview in AP, as they're publishing the new issue next week," the rep from Decaydance announced. Pete looked between me and Trick, with the vocalist mouthing 'do it yourself', me taking my fiancees hand and squeezing it gently, placing a kiss on his jaw directly below his ear.
"Do what you think is best baby. I'll follow you in whatever route you take," I whispered in his ear, earning a shiver from him.
"I'd like to go with the interview route, taking Alexiz with me to both so we can get the story straight together, and show the world that we are still very much in love, and ready for our children and marriage," Pete responded.
"Thank you Mr. Wentz, we shall call you back with times and dates for the interviews. Expect AP to be tomorrow morning, and the chat show in the afternoon," the rep replied, before hanging up. Pete clicked his phone off as I slipped from his lap, heading to the pantry and getting out the ingredients required to make my reknowned "Choc-Chip Peanut Butter" cookies. And yes, they are as sweet as they sound. Pete and Patrick started making something for dinner, which turned out to be homemade pasta - Pete's specialty, and tomato and basil sauce, one of the only things Patrick remembered his mother teaching him back before Stump lost the 'h'.
"No sir, well I don't wanna be the blame, not anymore. It's your turn, so take a seat we're settling the final score. And why do we like to hurt so much?
I can't decide, you have made it harder just to go on. And why, all the possibilities where I was wrong?" I started singing as I added the butter to the sugar and baking powder. Pete was looking over at me, singing and dancing as I made the cookies, Patrick with his head down, mouthing the words as I sang.
"That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating. And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa." This time Patrick joined in too.
"I wonder, how am I supposed to feel when you're not here. 'Cause I burned every bridge I ever built when you were here. I still try holding onto silly things, I never learn. Oh why, all the possibilities I'm sure you've heard.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating. And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
Pain make your way to me, to me. And I'll always be just so inviting. If I ever start to think straight, this heart will start a riot in me, let's start, start, hey!" We all sang, Pete giving into his temptation, singing with us as I added in the PB and Choc Chips to the batter and stirred, stiffening the dough before turning it out onto the counter.
"That's what you get when you let your heart win! Whoa.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa. Now I can't trust myself with anything but this. And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa." I finished crooning out, Pete and Patrick applauding me as I finished. As I rolled out the dough and started cutting the cookies, Pete's cell rang. He ran to grab it, answering hastily. After a few hushed tones and nods, and me putting the cookies in to bake and washing my hands, Pete came over to Patrick and I, smiling.
"We're going on Leno to fix things. We have to leave now to make the filming, and it's being aired tomorrow night," Pete hurriedly said, grabbing my hands and leading me into the bedroom, where both of us changed into decent attire. This consisted of Pete wearing a brand new pair of black skinny jeans, a black Clandestine tee with a red bartskull on, and some checkered vans. I donned a black mini dress which showed off my pregnant stomach nicely, with a pair of fishnets, and knee high converse. Oh, and one of Pete's larger hoodies.
We made our way to the studio, where tension filled the air. This is a bad idea
Hey guys, I've cut this into two parts, seeing as it's so long. Plus I don't have that part of the chapter figured out. It should be up tomorrow or the day after, depending how well it goes. This is not even half of the original length of chapter, so I've saved your tired eyes.
Sign up to rate and review this story