Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Lasting Impressions

Voicemail Desperation

by killxsmile 3 reviews

Chloe is busy avoiding you at the moment, so please leave a message after the tone.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Humor,Romance - Published: 2009-03-09 - Updated: 2009-03-10 - 1338 words - Complete

Author's Note: Heyo! Due to a lack of homework, I actually have time to post this. Enjoy!

somethingorother: Cross your fingers. You might just get what you're asking for ;)

MCR8050: Haha. I don't want orange hair, so here's your update.

Tissamy: Props to you for being persistent! It's people like you who keep me writing. Fo'real.

HellOnHigh9: Yep. Gaskarth is a determined little bugger with a heart of gold.

Hope you guys like this one...

Voicemail desperation.

“Come on, come on, come on. You know you’ve gotta. Come on, come on, come on. And celebrate ‘cause we are together, made for each other--”

As Sing It Loud continued playing, a muffled groan escaped my tired lips. With reluctance, I grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand. After blinking a couple of times, my eyes adjusted to its unnaturally bright screen.


“What the fuck?” I said, as his name continued flashing across the display.

It was far too early to deal with him, so I quickly hit ignore and buried my face in my fluffy white pillow once again.

“Come on, come on, come on--”

“Fucking a…” I said, as the cursed device mocked me for the second time.

“It’s 3:30 in the morning. What do you want, Gaskarth?” I sleepily asked.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I groaned in frustration. “Just turn your brain off. Stop thinking.”
“You’re not exactly the easiest person to stop thinking about.”
“What do you mean?”
“Chloe, I like you.”

I groaned, resisting my urge to hang up. Though he sounded strangely coherent, he’d clearly had too much to drink.

“Ugh, can’t we talk about it in the morning or something?”
“Technically, it’s already morning.”
“Well, whatever. Call me back when you’re sober.”

With that, I hung up and put my phone on silent. Sleep had become a rare commodity in my apartment, and I wasn’t gonna let Alex’s case of inebriated insomnia take that away from me.

The sun rose, and I eventually woke up on my own. Feeling refreshed, I stretched out underneath my comforter and let out a content sigh. Saturday = no work = HEAVEN.

“4:29? That can’t be right…” I said, looking at the clock on my wall. I grabbed my cell phone and saw that it was really 9:03. That, and I had 35 missed calls. In addition to that, I had new voicemail.

“What the…”

Despite my usual case of morning laziness, curiosity got the best of me. I dialed my voicemail box, wondering what drunken babbling Alex had left for me.

“Message dated November 11th, 9:00AM,” greeted a monotone voice. That meant it was only a few minutes old.

“When I wake up, I’m willing to take my chances on the hope that you hate him more than you notice I wrote this for you. You need him. I could be him. Could be an accident, but I’m still trying. That’s more than I can say for him…”

He went on singing Fall Out Boy’s “Grand Theft Autumn” until the 2-minute cutoff.

“Message dated November 11th, 8:47AM.”
“Should I write myself out of the history books and mark a place in time for every chance you took? Don’t get me wrong. I know you’ve got your life in place. I’ve yet to take the hint. Someday I’m sure I’ll get the picture and stop waiting up. When it all comes down to a sunrise on the east side will you be there to carry home the remains of my wasted youth? This wasted time on you has left me shaking and waiting. Shaking and waiting for something more…”

As I continued listening to the remainder of my voicemail box, I waited for some kind of explanation for his actions, but all I’d get were random song lyrics. Some of them were from All Time Low, but every few messages he’d toss in something from another band.

“Broken this fragile thing now. And I can’t, I can’t pick up the pieces. And I’ve thrown my words all around. But I can’t I can’t give you a reason. I feel so broken up. And I give up. I just wanna tell you so you know. Here I go. Scream my lungs out trying to get to you. You are my only one I let go. There’s just no one who gets me like you do. You are my only, my only one…”

“I’ve got a motion drippin out my pores and I thought I would let you know. You are the night light rippin through my wicked world. How you make it sparkle and glow. Before I lose control, there’s just one thing you should know: This is for real. This time I mean it. I’m comin clean, please don’t let go. I said from the start that you could take it or leave it. Prefer that you keep it. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Don’t let go…”

“Oh she makes me feel like shit. It’s always something. But I can’t get over it. She thinks it’s nothing. ’Cause she’s everything I ask for, everything I ask for and just a little bit more. Everything I ask for, everything I ask for. And so much more…”

“I saw it on your keyboard and you saw it on my sleeve. I never knew a heart existed outside of make believe. Till I saw it on your keyboard. I knew at least that I might have a chance to catch a shooting star…”

“Tonight will be the night that I will fall for you. Over again, don’t make me change my mind. I won’t live to see another day. I swear it’s true. Because a girl like you is impossible to find. You’re impossible to find…

Since the messages were in reverse chronological order, it took a while reach the root of all the madness.

“Message dated November 11th, 3:32AM.”
“Chloe, for the last time, I am not drunk. If I was drunk, I’d be passed out in bed, not wide awake thinking about you. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: I have feelings you. Not just ‘I wanna get into your pants’ feelings. They’re ‘I wanna hold you and never let go’ feelings. You’re probably--no, you are rolling your eyes right now, but I swear on your brother’s life that I’m telling the truth. And since you’re being stubborn as fuck, and deciding not to pick up your phone, I guess I’ll have to prove that I’m legit through voicemail. Here it goes…”

After clearing his throat and sighing, he began.

Get me out of this place before I cause more damage. A small price to pay for building houses out of matchsticks. When things get too hot, and you’ve got me to blame for every fire that breaks out in every lover’s name. Don’t forget we’ve got unfinished business. Stories yet to unfold. Tales that must be retold. And I regret not knowing when to put and end to all the madness. Keeps me wanting. Keeps me wanting more…”

As in all the other messages, his voice was eventually cut off.

“There are no new messages. If you would like to--”

I flipped my phone shut and held it in my hands for a few seconds. Then with a sigh, I tossed it onto the bed and leaned forward onto my thighs.

I didn’t know what was scarier--the possibility that Alex was falling for me, or the possibility that I was falling for him.

Alex likes Chloe. Chloe likes Alex.
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