Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Peterick: The Pete and Patrick Chronicles
I walked into my kitchen and pulled a Hot Pocket out of the freezer. I put it in the microwave and press a few buttons and the thing was cooking. Hemmingway barked and sat in front of his food bowl, so I poured him some dog food.
Then I walked into the bathroom, used the toilet, and looked into the mirror. My clothing was a joke. I didn't match at all, and food stains were all over the top of my shirt.
I rubbed his chin and felt the pricklyness. Stubble. Whatever, I don't need to shave anymore.
I looked at my shirt again and said out loud, "Maybe I'll get around to changing my shirt..."
I've only been wearing it for six...maybe seven days straight now.
I exited the bathroom and checked the microwave, there was still six minutes left on it.
I went over to the TV and flipped it on. I watched the Top 20 Countdown and thought.
I am a mess, aren't I? WHo was I even talking to right now? I'm going crazy.
It's because of Patrick, I knew that much. But he didn't love me, did he? He made it clear enough that he didn't want to be with me...so why would I want to be with him?
Ha! I've outsmarted him! Its not me its him! I decided.
Just then the phone rang and it made me jump. I walked over to the phone and picked it up.
"Hullo?" I answered gruffly.
"Pete." Joe said.
"Oh hey Joe." I said in a normal tone, sort of depressed though. I walked over to the microwave which had dinged and took out my Hot Pocket. I slipped it out of the package and Joe replied
"Pete, I have to tell you something..." he said.
"What you love me now too?" I said carelessly.
"NO! Pete...I don't know how you'll react to this but..." Joe tried.
"Joe, just fuckin tell me!" I shouted through a mouthful of cheesy Hot Pocket.
"Well Patrick's in the hospital! There, what are you gonna do now, celebrate?" Joe said angrily.
I thought about this. Patrick. Hospital. Bad. It all clicked into place.
"In-in the...hospital?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah Pete. You know, the place you go when your sick! Patrick's in the ICU."
"Joe, but why? What happened?" I said frantically, unable to be casual about this.
"Oh so you do care? Well he overdosed. And it's your fault he was deprssed enough to cut himself and take three dozen fucking sleeping pills!"
"He did that?" I asked.
"Yeah. Pete...I hope you know that Trick still loves you...no matter how much you say or think he doesn't..." Joe said sounding less hostile.
"How do you know?" I said tactlessly.
"Well...hmm...lets see...why else would he carve up his arm in your name? WELL!?" Joe said.
I was silent.
"Pete, just get your god damn fucking ass down here." Joe said and hung up.
"Thats what I intended on doing, Joe." I told the empty house.
Then I walked into the bathroom, used the toilet, and looked into the mirror. My clothing was a joke. I didn't match at all, and food stains were all over the top of my shirt.
I rubbed his chin and felt the pricklyness. Stubble. Whatever, I don't need to shave anymore.
I looked at my shirt again and said out loud, "Maybe I'll get around to changing my shirt..."
I've only been wearing it for six...maybe seven days straight now.
I exited the bathroom and checked the microwave, there was still six minutes left on it.
I went over to the TV and flipped it on. I watched the Top 20 Countdown and thought.
I am a mess, aren't I? WHo was I even talking to right now? I'm going crazy.
It's because of Patrick, I knew that much. But he didn't love me, did he? He made it clear enough that he didn't want to be with me...so why would I want to be with him?
Ha! I've outsmarted him! Its not me its him! I decided.
Just then the phone rang and it made me jump. I walked over to the phone and picked it up.
"Hullo?" I answered gruffly.
"Pete." Joe said.
"Oh hey Joe." I said in a normal tone, sort of depressed though. I walked over to the microwave which had dinged and took out my Hot Pocket. I slipped it out of the package and Joe replied
"Pete, I have to tell you something..." he said.
"What you love me now too?" I said carelessly.
"NO! Pete...I don't know how you'll react to this but..." Joe tried.
"Joe, just fuckin tell me!" I shouted through a mouthful of cheesy Hot Pocket.
"Well Patrick's in the hospital! There, what are you gonna do now, celebrate?" Joe said angrily.
I thought about this. Patrick. Hospital. Bad. It all clicked into place.
"In-in the...hospital?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah Pete. You know, the place you go when your sick! Patrick's in the ICU."
"Joe, but why? What happened?" I said frantically, unable to be casual about this.
"Oh so you do care? Well he overdosed. And it's your fault he was deprssed enough to cut himself and take three dozen fucking sleeping pills!"
"He did that?" I asked.
"Yeah. Pete...I hope you know that Trick still loves you...no matter how much you say or think he doesn't..." Joe said sounding less hostile.
"How do you know?" I said tactlessly.
"Well...hmm...lets see...why else would he carve up his arm in your name? WELL!?" Joe said.
I was silent.
"Pete, just get your god damn fucking ass down here." Joe said and hung up.
"Thats what I intended on doing, Joe." I told the empty house.
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