Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Peterick: The Pete and Patrick Chronicles
Back To Business...or NOT
0 reviewsUh oh. This will never end. At least Patrick's okay...:( poor Pete
0Unrated
Pete's POV:
Thank god, Patrick was out of the hospital by the next week. We got to continue the tour and we had a show tonight. It felt good that Trick wasn't in pain anymore. I dressed for the concert, wearing a bloack hoodie and black skinny jeans with my red Supras. I smeared on my eyeliner and went to sit in the room outside of the dressing rooms. Joe and Andy came out of their dressing rooms at the same time and then Patrick. If only Patrick knew hot cute he looked tonight. As he walked past me I almost grabbed his butt, but somehow I mustered up some self control. I sat up straight and sighed.
The show was pretty good, we were in Brooklyn tonight. We all went out the back door of the venue to get to the tour bus. We were all talking and I was staring at Patrick's lips again. Oh what I wouldn't give for them to be touching my skin right now---
A loud bang. A sharp pain. A cry of agony escapes from my mouth. People scream.
I fall to the ground in what it seems like is slow motion.
Joe and Patrick grab my shoulders and heave me back up. I know that its Joe on my right because his hand has such a tight muscular grip. Which means Patrick is on my left. They hold me up and I get a blurry glimpse of blood----no a puddle of blood, right were I had fallen.
"Pete! Pete can you hear us?!!" Patrick and Joe were shouting. Andy stood behind me looking on in horror and the truth was that I could hear them, I just can't speak. I realize finally where the center of the pain is. My right side, just below my rib cage and just above the right side of my pelvis is searing with.
"Andy call the ambulance!" Joe says.
They sit me on the ground against the wall of the building. My head rolls over to lean on Patrick's shoulder, I didn't know if by choice or by instinct. Patrick holds me closely and Joe pulls off my hood and t-shirt. Its a little cold outside, and I shiver. Patrick holds me even closer and tighter.
"Holy shit! He's gushing blood! Right here, we need a towel or something!" Joe shouted. I felt wetness on my cheek. Was I crying? Then someone sniffled, it was Patrick. I smoldered my face into Patricks neck and shoulder.
I heard sirens in the background and would have breathed a sigh of relief if I had remembered how. Joe and Patrick held me in an upright position again and I felt the muscular paramedic dudes lift me onto the stretcher. My side throbbed more than ever by know.
Once again in the background I heard Joe shouting at the paramedics, "He's been shot! Where are the cops?" They calmed him down and Andy and Patrick were the ones that were chosen to ride with me to the hospital.
"Don't worry Pete. We'll find that motherfucker that shot you and kick his ass." Andy said.
Shot me.
Somebody shot me.
Thank god, Patrick was out of the hospital by the next week. We got to continue the tour and we had a show tonight. It felt good that Trick wasn't in pain anymore. I dressed for the concert, wearing a bloack hoodie and black skinny jeans with my red Supras. I smeared on my eyeliner and went to sit in the room outside of the dressing rooms. Joe and Andy came out of their dressing rooms at the same time and then Patrick. If only Patrick knew hot cute he looked tonight. As he walked past me I almost grabbed his butt, but somehow I mustered up some self control. I sat up straight and sighed.
The show was pretty good, we were in Brooklyn tonight. We all went out the back door of the venue to get to the tour bus. We were all talking and I was staring at Patrick's lips again. Oh what I wouldn't give for them to be touching my skin right now---
A loud bang. A sharp pain. A cry of agony escapes from my mouth. People scream.
I fall to the ground in what it seems like is slow motion.
Joe and Patrick grab my shoulders and heave me back up. I know that its Joe on my right because his hand has such a tight muscular grip. Which means Patrick is on my left. They hold me up and I get a blurry glimpse of blood----no a puddle of blood, right were I had fallen.
"Pete! Pete can you hear us?!!" Patrick and Joe were shouting. Andy stood behind me looking on in horror and the truth was that I could hear them, I just can't speak. I realize finally where the center of the pain is. My right side, just below my rib cage and just above the right side of my pelvis is searing with.
"Andy call the ambulance!" Joe says.
They sit me on the ground against the wall of the building. My head rolls over to lean on Patrick's shoulder, I didn't know if by choice or by instinct. Patrick holds me closely and Joe pulls off my hood and t-shirt. Its a little cold outside, and I shiver. Patrick holds me even closer and tighter.
"Holy shit! He's gushing blood! Right here, we need a towel or something!" Joe shouted. I felt wetness on my cheek. Was I crying? Then someone sniffled, it was Patrick. I smoldered my face into Patricks neck and shoulder.
I heard sirens in the background and would have breathed a sigh of relief if I had remembered how. Joe and Patrick held me in an upright position again and I felt the muscular paramedic dudes lift me onto the stretcher. My side throbbed more than ever by know.
Once again in the background I heard Joe shouting at the paramedics, "He's been shot! Where are the cops?" They calmed him down and Andy and Patrick were the ones that were chosen to ride with me to the hospital.
"Don't worry Pete. We'll find that motherfucker that shot you and kick his ass." Andy said.
Shot me.
Somebody shot me.
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