Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > You Make Me Live
All That You Can't Leave Behind
0 reviewsTime to go home, time to go home, lalalalalala... More angst. Yay.
0Unrated
The stage was alive with energy. Every strum of the guitars, every booming bass note, every pound of the drums, every stomp, clap, cheer. It all added to the euphoria in the arena and everyone was lost in the rhythms. Andy’s hair was flying wildly, and Joe was spinning almost out of control. Patrick felt his eyes close as he sang smoothly into the microphone, the perfection of their final song getting to him. But Pete plucked at his bass blankly, letting the feeling wash over him. He couldn’t believe he was hearing Patrick’s voice, live, for what might be the final time. He let it filter in through his ears and soak into his brain, making sure to remember every second of it.
The last chord was strummed, and the crowd burst into cheers. Pete sniffed sadly, shouted the closing remarks and goodnights into the microphone, and took one last long look at the arena. This was the life he was leaving behind.
He rushed straight off to the showers, and afterwards went straight to pack. When he was done packing he cleaned the bus. Yes, cleaned, from top to bottom. Anything to distract him from his thoughts. Halfway through the mad cleaning session Joe appeared at the door.
‘What the…’
‘Your stuff’s all on your bed!’ Pete yelled over the roar of the vacuum cleaner.
‘So where am I gonna sleep tonight, genius?’
‘Uh…’ Pete dropped the vacuum. ‘I don’t know.’
Although excitable and carefree, Joe had noticed Pete’s sadness. He put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey why don’t you come see the others? You never know, what with this whole split, it might be the last chance you get.’
Pete just sighed and rubbed his eyes.
‘Hey. It won’t be so bad, dude. Give it a while and you’ll be back together again.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Together? We’re not gay, Joe.’
Joe laughed. ‘I guess that came out wrong. OK, you’ll be the best of friends again. I swear.’
Although they both knew it wasn’t true.
********************************
The buses pulled into a deserted car park in Los Angeles early the next morning, and the bands piled off excitedly and headed for their luggage. It was sad to be splitting up, but great to be going home at last. Pete watched enviously as Patrick joked around with Travis. He felt he should go over and say something, but he didn’t know what. He’d reject friendliness, hostility, blackmail, even a handshake… All Pete could do was beg, but he wasn’t going to do that in front of everyone. All he could do was watch as Patrick threw his luggage into his car, hugged and shook hands with everyone except him, and started up the engine.
As the car pulled out of the car park Pete had an overwhelming urge to run after it. He had no idea what to say or do, but it felt like his only chance. But before he could move an inch Andy had pulled him back, hugging him tight. Tears flooded his eyes as he watched his best friend drive away from him, out of his life, forever.
********************************
Patrick pushed the door hard through all the post on the floor and breathed in the wonderful smell of home. Breathing out slowly he smiled, knowing there’d never be those long nights away from home again. Although he would miss the company of Joe and Andy, and the amazing feeling of being on stage…
Pete and Laura
Patrick shook his head fiercely, shaking away the awful memory. As far as he was concerned, Pete Wentz was some famous waster from the magazines he never wanted to meet. He switched on the stereo, poured a glass of water and stretched out full length on the sofa, the sultry sound of Prince in his ears. It was good to be home.
********************************
Pete pulled slowly into the drive, looking up at his home, the ivy trailing round the windows and the garden getting a tad overgrown. He turned off the engine and sighed, enjoying the sudden silence and his own reflections on the past few weeks, before seeing Ashlee open the door with baby Bronx in her arms. A sudden wave of happiness flooded through him, and he rushed to his family and hugged them tightly. He’d never have to be away from them again.
‘Come inside, baby! You’ll freeze to death!’
‘One minute…’ He was enjoying the reconciliation too much. All the Patrick problems had been forgotten in that one simple moment.
‘You’ve got plenty of time for hugs. Please can we do it inside?!’ Ashlee kissed his nose happily, and they retreated into the house together. Pete suddenly felt extremely guilty. He gazed lovingly at his wife and his little boy, thinking how happy they all were together and how he could have blown it all in one stupid night. And what sort of example did that set for his son?
Setting his bags down, he collapsed onto the sofa and cuddled Bronx close.
‘Hey, buddy! You’re getting to be a big guy now, aren’t you? Not like your dad, that’s for sure… Come to think of it, your mom’s not too tall either. Wonder where you get it from…’
Bronx gurgled happily as Pete kissed him on the nose. There was something familiar in the gurgle… it reminded Pete of Patrick’s bubbly laughter. He remembered one time when they were teasing each other, Pete had started to tickle him, and Patrick had started to laugh like that helplessly. Pete sighed, the tears pricking his eyes again. It was insane to be crying so much, but they had been inseparable for years. It seemed this whole mess was far, far from over.
The last chord was strummed, and the crowd burst into cheers. Pete sniffed sadly, shouted the closing remarks and goodnights into the microphone, and took one last long look at the arena. This was the life he was leaving behind.
He rushed straight off to the showers, and afterwards went straight to pack. When he was done packing he cleaned the bus. Yes, cleaned, from top to bottom. Anything to distract him from his thoughts. Halfway through the mad cleaning session Joe appeared at the door.
‘What the…’
‘Your stuff’s all on your bed!’ Pete yelled over the roar of the vacuum cleaner.
‘So where am I gonna sleep tonight, genius?’
‘Uh…’ Pete dropped the vacuum. ‘I don’t know.’
Although excitable and carefree, Joe had noticed Pete’s sadness. He put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey why don’t you come see the others? You never know, what with this whole split, it might be the last chance you get.’
Pete just sighed and rubbed his eyes.
‘Hey. It won’t be so bad, dude. Give it a while and you’ll be back together again.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Together? We’re not gay, Joe.’
Joe laughed. ‘I guess that came out wrong. OK, you’ll be the best of friends again. I swear.’
Although they both knew it wasn’t true.
********************************
The buses pulled into a deserted car park in Los Angeles early the next morning, and the bands piled off excitedly and headed for their luggage. It was sad to be splitting up, but great to be going home at last. Pete watched enviously as Patrick joked around with Travis. He felt he should go over and say something, but he didn’t know what. He’d reject friendliness, hostility, blackmail, even a handshake… All Pete could do was beg, but he wasn’t going to do that in front of everyone. All he could do was watch as Patrick threw his luggage into his car, hugged and shook hands with everyone except him, and started up the engine.
As the car pulled out of the car park Pete had an overwhelming urge to run after it. He had no idea what to say or do, but it felt like his only chance. But before he could move an inch Andy had pulled him back, hugging him tight. Tears flooded his eyes as he watched his best friend drive away from him, out of his life, forever.
********************************
Patrick pushed the door hard through all the post on the floor and breathed in the wonderful smell of home. Breathing out slowly he smiled, knowing there’d never be those long nights away from home again. Although he would miss the company of Joe and Andy, and the amazing feeling of being on stage…
Pete and Laura
Patrick shook his head fiercely, shaking away the awful memory. As far as he was concerned, Pete Wentz was some famous waster from the magazines he never wanted to meet. He switched on the stereo, poured a glass of water and stretched out full length on the sofa, the sultry sound of Prince in his ears. It was good to be home.
********************************
Pete pulled slowly into the drive, looking up at his home, the ivy trailing round the windows and the garden getting a tad overgrown. He turned off the engine and sighed, enjoying the sudden silence and his own reflections on the past few weeks, before seeing Ashlee open the door with baby Bronx in her arms. A sudden wave of happiness flooded through him, and he rushed to his family and hugged them tightly. He’d never have to be away from them again.
‘Come inside, baby! You’ll freeze to death!’
‘One minute…’ He was enjoying the reconciliation too much. All the Patrick problems had been forgotten in that one simple moment.
‘You’ve got plenty of time for hugs. Please can we do it inside?!’ Ashlee kissed his nose happily, and they retreated into the house together. Pete suddenly felt extremely guilty. He gazed lovingly at his wife and his little boy, thinking how happy they all were together and how he could have blown it all in one stupid night. And what sort of example did that set for his son?
Setting his bags down, he collapsed onto the sofa and cuddled Bronx close.
‘Hey, buddy! You’re getting to be a big guy now, aren’t you? Not like your dad, that’s for sure… Come to think of it, your mom’s not too tall either. Wonder where you get it from…’
Bronx gurgled happily as Pete kissed him on the nose. There was something familiar in the gurgle… it reminded Pete of Patrick’s bubbly laughter. He remembered one time when they were teasing each other, Pete had started to tickle him, and Patrick had started to laugh like that helplessly. Pete sighed, the tears pricking his eyes again. It was insane to be crying so much, but they had been inseparable for years. It seemed this whole mess was far, far from over.
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