Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > You Make Me Live
Everything We Had
0 reviewsWe're introduced to cute little Penny and a cute little letter. Feel the love.
0Unrated
The blackness melted into a dull light as Patrick opened his eyes slowly the next morning. He stretched out across the bed happily; glad to be back in his own bed and not on a cramped bunk on a bus, miles from home. He looked around the room at all his treasures and memories, noticing a lot of Fall Out Boy-related things. They would have to be stored away later.
Penny came bounding in through the door and onto the bed, making Patrick jump. She panted and wagged her tail happily, licking him awake.
‘OK girl, I’m up, I’m up!’ He reached for the dog and pulled her into a hug, stroking behind her ears. Penny soon settled and everything was quiet again – until Patrick’s phone vibrated quietly on the bedside table. Reaching over for it he wondered who could possibly want to talk to him this early, until he saw who it was from.
im not giving up that easily. ill bring you round somehow. let me make it up to you.
All the bad memories suddenly came rushing back, and Patrick deleted the message, angry at himself for even reading it. But then he saw the screen.
48 new messages
48?! All from Pete, he assumed. Sure enough, there they all were, saying similar things.
come on man, one chat. for closure. surely you can give me that.
i will use a whole months worth of texts if thats what it takes.
ten mins and you can give up on me for good if you want. please.
Had he slept at all? Judging from the times on the messages, Patrick guessed he hadn’t. He emptied the inbox completely, before yet another message arrived. Not even reading it, he threw the phone onto the bed in exasperation.
And so it continued. For days, weeks even, Pete bombarded Patrick with texts, e-mails and phone calls, all begging for a talk with him. All were deleted, and a few times Patrick even rang back to stop him.
‘Patrick!’
‘Seriously, Wentz, just STOP. It’s irritating. I said I never wanted to see or hear from you again, remember? I meant what I said.’
‘But Trick, please, just one talk will–’
‘NO. No buts. Get out of my life. And if I hear from you again I’ll have to call the cops. Understand?’
Pete listened sadly to the dialling tone as Patrick hung up angrily. He sniffed, and felt arms wrap round his waist.
‘He still not giving in?’ Ashlee mumbled in his ear, rubbing his back gently. Pete shook his head sadly. By this time he’d convinced her that he and Patrick had just been arguing over everything and couldn’t continue… which was true, in a way. But of course it wasn’t the full story.
Ashlee sighed, wanting to help in some way but failing to think of one. She kissed his cheek and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. Pete meanwhile had gone over to the laptop, a fresh idea in his head. He opened up a blank Word document, took a gulp of his coffee, and started to type. It was his last shot. And he was going to make sure he did everything in his power to make it work.
*
A ruffle by the front door sent Penny charging down the hall. She sat patiently by the letter box while the mail fell to the mat, and when it had all dropped down she picked it up in her mouth and trotted off, tail wagging, in search of her dad.
Footsteps came from the stairs and Penny barked happily, dropping all the letters in the process.
‘Hey there, girl, whatcha got for me?’ Patrick bent down and ruffled the dog’s fur, then sifted through all the letters. Bills, more bills, junk mail, a random fan letter (who knew his address? How creepy)… and a brown envelope, hand-addressed and sent first-class. He didn’t recognise the handwriting, and so he ripped that envelope open first… to find a long letter inside.
“Hey Patrick.
Please don’t rip this up, not till you’ve read it through. This will be my last attempt to put things right. See, I even got Ash to address it so you wouldn’t see it was from me and throw it out; I really want you to read this so badly. I know you’re sick of me, angry, upset, confused, and heartbroken. I can’t believe how I did all this to you without thinking, and how everything was ruined in one stupid night. But I need you to put it behind you. I will if you will. And if you don’t it’s gonna hurt me for a very long time.
I’m hurting now, Patrick. I need you. And I know that sounds pathetic and weak, but you know that’s me all over. You know the first few nights after the tour, I didn’t sleep a wink. I tried to but I couldn’t help it. It reminded me a bit of that first night after we stopped living together. It was real lonely. Remember how the night before we’d stayed up in your bed, swapping memories and falling asleep on each other? I miss that.
I miss lots of our memories, all our in-jokes, the confidence we had in each other. I miss writing songs together, even the crazy ones that didn’t work out. Especially the crazy ones. I miss being on tour with you, getting to spend weeks with my best friend. Because you are, and you always will be, even if you don’t feel the same. I miss your crazy hats and shoes, and your laugh, and your voice, and the way you’d always let me crawl in with you at night, even if you did complain. I miss making the home videos, like the time you dipped your head in the swimming pool. I miss calling you Magic Trick.
There’s so many things I miss about you, I could go on forever. I don’t know if I could ever get over you properly. That’s why I need this talk, to explain myself properly, to try and make you see that even though I made the most stupid mistake of my life I am so, so sorry. It’s not enough to say I want you back, Patrick, I need you back. It’s like I’m missing half my heart, and it’s getting harder to go on each day. Please give me a fresh chance. I’m sorry about all our arguments too. I’m sorry if I ever ignored you, or replaced you, or did anything else to upset you. I mean it, anything. I’m just sorry.
And I’m sorry for this unmanly outpouring of my heart. But I just thought that even if you don’t give me an opportunity to talk, I’d better have a shot at saying it all now. Please get in touch with me, and we can meet somewhere. Or if you’re sure you don’t want to… then I’m so sorry I ruined everything, and I love you more than anyone ever will. I’ll never stop.
Pete”
Patrick stared at the letter. A tear fell onto the bottom of the page, but he was too shocked to wipe it away. It was the most sincere, heart-rending, beautiful thing he’d ever read. And Pete could be much more eloquent than that, much wittier with his words… but it was the honesty that cut through him like a knife. And Pete knew it. He knew that Patrick would know. It was how they worked.
The envelope dropped to the floor, and something else fell out of it. Patrick bent forward and picked it up, sniffing, to find it was a photograph. It was from a good few years ago, on some tour, and they were both sat together eating pizza. Or, well, Patrick was eating pizza. Pete was trying to steal his piece. It was one of the happiest, most carefree photos they had.
Patrick stood up shakily, still sniffing, and put the photo and the letter on the mantelpiece. There was no way he could throw those away. There was no denying he still missed having Pete around. But he could not, would not just let him off the hook again, as he usually did. He thought hard for a while, and then walked to the phone and dialled in Pete’s number – hoping it wasn’t him who answered.
Penny came bounding in through the door and onto the bed, making Patrick jump. She panted and wagged her tail happily, licking him awake.
‘OK girl, I’m up, I’m up!’ He reached for the dog and pulled her into a hug, stroking behind her ears. Penny soon settled and everything was quiet again – until Patrick’s phone vibrated quietly on the bedside table. Reaching over for it he wondered who could possibly want to talk to him this early, until he saw who it was from.
im not giving up that easily. ill bring you round somehow. let me make it up to you.
All the bad memories suddenly came rushing back, and Patrick deleted the message, angry at himself for even reading it. But then he saw the screen.
48 new messages
48?! All from Pete, he assumed. Sure enough, there they all were, saying similar things.
come on man, one chat. for closure. surely you can give me that.
i will use a whole months worth of texts if thats what it takes.
ten mins and you can give up on me for good if you want. please.
Had he slept at all? Judging from the times on the messages, Patrick guessed he hadn’t. He emptied the inbox completely, before yet another message arrived. Not even reading it, he threw the phone onto the bed in exasperation.
And so it continued. For days, weeks even, Pete bombarded Patrick with texts, e-mails and phone calls, all begging for a talk with him. All were deleted, and a few times Patrick even rang back to stop him.
‘Patrick!’
‘Seriously, Wentz, just STOP. It’s irritating. I said I never wanted to see or hear from you again, remember? I meant what I said.’
‘But Trick, please, just one talk will–’
‘NO. No buts. Get out of my life. And if I hear from you again I’ll have to call the cops. Understand?’
Pete listened sadly to the dialling tone as Patrick hung up angrily. He sniffed, and felt arms wrap round his waist.
‘He still not giving in?’ Ashlee mumbled in his ear, rubbing his back gently. Pete shook his head sadly. By this time he’d convinced her that he and Patrick had just been arguing over everything and couldn’t continue… which was true, in a way. But of course it wasn’t the full story.
Ashlee sighed, wanting to help in some way but failing to think of one. She kissed his cheek and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. Pete meanwhile had gone over to the laptop, a fresh idea in his head. He opened up a blank Word document, took a gulp of his coffee, and started to type. It was his last shot. And he was going to make sure he did everything in his power to make it work.
*
A ruffle by the front door sent Penny charging down the hall. She sat patiently by the letter box while the mail fell to the mat, and when it had all dropped down she picked it up in her mouth and trotted off, tail wagging, in search of her dad.
Footsteps came from the stairs and Penny barked happily, dropping all the letters in the process.
‘Hey there, girl, whatcha got for me?’ Patrick bent down and ruffled the dog’s fur, then sifted through all the letters. Bills, more bills, junk mail, a random fan letter (who knew his address? How creepy)… and a brown envelope, hand-addressed and sent first-class. He didn’t recognise the handwriting, and so he ripped that envelope open first… to find a long letter inside.
“Hey Patrick.
Please don’t rip this up, not till you’ve read it through. This will be my last attempt to put things right. See, I even got Ash to address it so you wouldn’t see it was from me and throw it out; I really want you to read this so badly. I know you’re sick of me, angry, upset, confused, and heartbroken. I can’t believe how I did all this to you without thinking, and how everything was ruined in one stupid night. But I need you to put it behind you. I will if you will. And if you don’t it’s gonna hurt me for a very long time.
I’m hurting now, Patrick. I need you. And I know that sounds pathetic and weak, but you know that’s me all over. You know the first few nights after the tour, I didn’t sleep a wink. I tried to but I couldn’t help it. It reminded me a bit of that first night after we stopped living together. It was real lonely. Remember how the night before we’d stayed up in your bed, swapping memories and falling asleep on each other? I miss that.
I miss lots of our memories, all our in-jokes, the confidence we had in each other. I miss writing songs together, even the crazy ones that didn’t work out. Especially the crazy ones. I miss being on tour with you, getting to spend weeks with my best friend. Because you are, and you always will be, even if you don’t feel the same. I miss your crazy hats and shoes, and your laugh, and your voice, and the way you’d always let me crawl in with you at night, even if you did complain. I miss making the home videos, like the time you dipped your head in the swimming pool. I miss calling you Magic Trick.
There’s so many things I miss about you, I could go on forever. I don’t know if I could ever get over you properly. That’s why I need this talk, to explain myself properly, to try and make you see that even though I made the most stupid mistake of my life I am so, so sorry. It’s not enough to say I want you back, Patrick, I need you back. It’s like I’m missing half my heart, and it’s getting harder to go on each day. Please give me a fresh chance. I’m sorry about all our arguments too. I’m sorry if I ever ignored you, or replaced you, or did anything else to upset you. I mean it, anything. I’m just sorry.
And I’m sorry for this unmanly outpouring of my heart. But I just thought that even if you don’t give me an opportunity to talk, I’d better have a shot at saying it all now. Please get in touch with me, and we can meet somewhere. Or if you’re sure you don’t want to… then I’m so sorry I ruined everything, and I love you more than anyone ever will. I’ll never stop.
Pete”
Patrick stared at the letter. A tear fell onto the bottom of the page, but he was too shocked to wipe it away. It was the most sincere, heart-rending, beautiful thing he’d ever read. And Pete could be much more eloquent than that, much wittier with his words… but it was the honesty that cut through him like a knife. And Pete knew it. He knew that Patrick would know. It was how they worked.
The envelope dropped to the floor, and something else fell out of it. Patrick bent forward and picked it up, sniffing, to find it was a photograph. It was from a good few years ago, on some tour, and they were both sat together eating pizza. Or, well, Patrick was eating pizza. Pete was trying to steal his piece. It was one of the happiest, most carefree photos they had.
Patrick stood up shakily, still sniffing, and put the photo and the letter on the mantelpiece. There was no way he could throw those away. There was no denying he still missed having Pete around. But he could not, would not just let him off the hook again, as he usually did. He thought hard for a while, and then walked to the phone and dialled in Pete’s number – hoping it wasn’t him who answered.
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