Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Press Play
Author's Note: Sorry about lack of updates. I didn't want to write something for the sake of a fast update. It took a while to figure out where I was going with this, so I hope you guys like it.
THANK YOUS
somethingorother: Sammi is 4 years old. You’ll see how Patrick and Juliet’s night plays out in this chapter.
cupcakeloserrainbow: Glad you liked the last chapter. It was really fun to write.
tonytay113: Correlation and causation are 2 of the things I remember from AP Psychology. Good times.
doyleangel: Patrick’s a sweetie in this story. I can’t write him any other way.
chocolatechortle22: lol. Sammi is very smart for her age.
Tissamy: Spaghetti is delicious.
pigeon: Thanks for reminding me to update, yo!
STORYYY.
SIXTEEN: my heart is the worst kind of weapon
J U L I E T
After finishing our meals, we found ourselves in yet another awkward silence.
“…So Aunt Juliet said that you can sing,” Sammi spoke up. “Are you good at it?”
“I guess I’m alright,” he said, blushing.
The boy was ridiculously modest.
Sammi nudged my arm. “You should get Dewey.”
My eyes widened and I shook my head, trying to keep my cool.
“Aww, c’mon. Please?”
“Who’s Dewey?” Patrick asked.
“Her guitbox.”
Sammi, I know that you didn’t mean to put me on the spot but please stop talking…
“You play?”
“A little…” I responded, fidgeting with my hands.
“…I’ll sing if you strum.”
I looked up at him with uncertainty, then shifted my attention to the corner of the living room.
“Alright.”
While I retrieved Dewey, Sammi led him toward the couch.
”Patrick, do you know Island In The Sun?” Sammi asked as I took a seat.
“Wait, you like Weezer?” he asked, surprised.
“Mhmm. My mommy said that nursery rhymes corrupt children with lyrics that have no meaning whatsoever, so she lets me listen to her iPod.”
“How old are you?”
“Four,” she responded holding up the corresponding number of fingers. “…So do you know it?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. Taking a deep breath, he looked over at me. “Ready when you are…”
I carefully played the intro, hoping that I wasn’t making a total fool of myself. Patrick took his cue and began the verse, sending the butterflies already in my stomach into yet another frenzy.
“When you’re on a holiday
You can find no words to say
All the things that come to you and
I want to feel it, too
On an island in the sun
We’ll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can’t control my brain…”
——-
“We’ll run away together
We’ll spend some time wherever
We’ll never feel bad anymore…
We’ll never feel bad anymore
We’ll never feel bad anymore
No, no
No, no…”
Sammi excitedly clapped as we finished the song. “You could be on the radio, Patrick.”
“Thanks,” he said, with the most adorable smile on his face. “…But I can‘t take all the credit. Your aunt plays a mean guitar.”
I managed to get out a quiet “thank you” before blood rushed to my cheeks. Then, as if on cue, someone buzzed up my apartment.
“Now that’s probably your mom,” I said, standing up. After placing Dewey on the couch, I got up to answer it.
“Lauren?” I asked into the intercom.
“The one and only.”
I pressed the button allowing her to get inside the building.
“So what other music do you like?” Patrick asked, making small talk with my niece.
“Stuff that my mommy listens to… Shiny Toy Guns, Jason Mraz, Say Anything, Hellogoodbye, All Time Low, the Secret Handshake, Boys Like Girls, Sugarcult, Cobra Starship, the Beatles, Streetlight Manifesto, Forever the Sickest Kids… Oh, and Fall Out Boy. Aunt Juliet really likes them, too.”
Patrick looked over at me and I nodded.
“…They‘re one of my favorites,” I admitted.
“What’s your favorite song by them?”
“‘My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon’ probably tops the list.”
“Would you mind if I…” he trailed off and motioned toward Dewey.
“No, go ahead,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.
He picked up my acoustic guitar and strummed for a few seconds.
“Haven’t played this in a while, but I think I remember how it goes…”
While he sat there, tuning the strings, I stood by the door trying to wrap my head around the situation. Patrick Stump is on my couch with my guitar, about to play my favorite Fall Out Boy song.
“Spent most of last night dragging this lake
For the corpses of all my past mistakes
Sell me out the joke’s on you we are salt and you are the wound…”
Once Lauren knocked, I quickly answered it.
“Thanks again for—” Lauren stopped mid-sentence as she saw Patrick. Wide-eyed, she silently stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
“…I’m the kind of kid who can’t let anything go
But you wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and slit your throat…”
“Either I‘m going crazy, or Patrick Stump is on your couch, playing your guitar,” Lauren whispered.
“You’re not going crazy. It‘s him.”
“…Your remorse hasn’t fallen on deaf ears
Rather ones that just don’t care
And I know that you’re in between arms of a man
Next to heartbeats where you shouldn’t dare sleep
Now I’ll teach you a lesson for keeping secrets from me…”
As he broke into the refrain Sammi smiled, nodding her head to the beat, totally unaware of how many people would kill to be in her size 3½ shoes. Lauren and I slowly made our way toward the couch and took seats next to her.
“He’s really good,” she whispered to her mom.
“Yeah…”
The three of us sat there in quiet admiration while he continued to play.
“…Take your taste back
Peel back your skin
And try to forget how it feels inside
You should try saying no once in a while
Oh, once in a while…”
After strumming the outro, he shyly looked up from the guitar and met our applause.
“That was…wow,” Lauren said, still in shock. Patrick chuckled and set Dewey down next to him.
“Patrick, this is my sister Lauren. Lauren, this is Patrick,” I said, introducing the two.
“Hey, nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand.
“Likewise,” she said. “Sammi, it‘s time for us to hit the road.”
“Aww, but Patrick was playin some hot jams for us,” she replied, pouting.
“No buts,” Lauren said, poking her stomach. “It’s already an hour past your bedtime.”
“Okayyy…”
Sammi hopped off the couch and put on her coat and mittens.
“Thanks again for watching her, Jules. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Don’t worry about it. We had a lot of fun today.”
“Adios, Auntie Juliet,” the tiny brunette said. I leaned down and wrapped her in a hug.
“Bye, Captain Sam.”
“Bye, Patrick.”
“Bye,” he said, ruffling her hair.
Lauren waved to Patrick, then subtly yanked my arm toward the door.
“I’ll be expecting a call with all the details.”
“Bye, Lauren.”
She smirked as I closed the door.
When I turned around, I noticed that Patrick was quietly strumming my guitar once again.
“Why’d you name him Dewey?” he asked, looking up.
“When I was 11, I asked my parents if I could take guitar lessons,” I said, sitting down. “They said I needed to prove I could manage my time without letting my grades slip, so I volunteered at the library every day after school. Since the Dewey decimal system helped me get the lessons, I thought it would make sense to name my guitar after it.”
He smiled and handed the old acoustic to me. I set it aside so that Patrick and I would be face-to-face rather than face-to-tuner.
“What’s the name of your guitar?” I asked, pulling my legs onto the couch.
“Her name’s Molly,” he said, leaning against the cushions. “I kinda had a huge crush on Molly Ringwald back when I started playing.”
I chuckled at his response, lifting my hand to cover my mouth. I guess it was a self-conscious habit. He intercepted, however, placing his hand on top of mine.
“Your smile is really pretty,” he coyly said. “…You shouldn‘t hide it.”
“Babe, let me at least take off my coa—” Lacey said, hastily walking into the apartment, Parker attached to her waist. “Oh, hey guys. I thought you were going out today.”
“We were, but I needed to babysit Sammi for a while, so we stayed in,” I explained.
“Oh.”
“Well don’t mind me and Lace. We’re just going to make out in her room.”
Lacey’s eyes widened and she elbowed him. in the ribs.
“What? It’s the truth,” he said, shrugging.
She rolled her eyes and dragged him off, while he laughed and gave us the thumbs up. As the door clicked shut, I noticed that Patrick was still holding my hand.
“I know it didn‘t go according to plan, but how are you liking our first date?” he asked.
“I’m liking it a lot. We cooked dinner, hung out with an adorable 4-year-old, and you swept me off my feet with my favorite song.”
He smiled. “Would you mind sweeping me off my feet?”
“I could try, but there are no guarantees.”
I reached for Dewey once again and set him on my lap.
“Any requests?”
“Surprise me.”
“Alright…”
I sat there, sorting through song titles as my fingers randomly strummed chords. Holiday From Real seemed fitting: not too hard, not too easy, and not too cliché for a first date.
After taking a deep breath, I adjusted Dewey’s position and started playing.
“She thinks I’m much too thin
She asks me if I’m sick
What’s a girl to do with friends like this?
She lets me drive her car
So I can score an eighth from the lesbians at West and Venice
Oh, California in the summer
Oh, and my hair is growing long
And fuck yeah, we can live like this
But if you left it up to me every day would be a holiday from real
We’d waste our weeks beneath the sun
We’d fry our brains and say it’s so much fun out here
But when it’s all over I’ll come back for another year…”
+++++
Reviews and ratings would be SPECTACULAR.
I don't mean to sound like a whiny emo kid, but it kind of makes me sad how there aren't any ratings points on any of the chapters so far. After all, I put a lot of effort into writing all of this.
Fix it?
THANK YOUS
somethingorother: Sammi is 4 years old. You’ll see how Patrick and Juliet’s night plays out in this chapter.
cupcakeloserrainbow: Glad you liked the last chapter. It was really fun to write.
tonytay113: Correlation and causation are 2 of the things I remember from AP Psychology. Good times.
doyleangel: Patrick’s a sweetie in this story. I can’t write him any other way.
chocolatechortle22: lol. Sammi is very smart for her age.
Tissamy: Spaghetti is delicious.
pigeon: Thanks for reminding me to update, yo!
STORYYY.
SIXTEEN: my heart is the worst kind of weapon
J U L I E T
After finishing our meals, we found ourselves in yet another awkward silence.
“…So Aunt Juliet said that you can sing,” Sammi spoke up. “Are you good at it?”
“I guess I’m alright,” he said, blushing.
The boy was ridiculously modest.
Sammi nudged my arm. “You should get Dewey.”
My eyes widened and I shook my head, trying to keep my cool.
“Aww, c’mon. Please?”
“Who’s Dewey?” Patrick asked.
“Her guitbox.”
Sammi, I know that you didn’t mean to put me on the spot but please stop talking…
“You play?”
“A little…” I responded, fidgeting with my hands.
“…I’ll sing if you strum.”
I looked up at him with uncertainty, then shifted my attention to the corner of the living room.
“Alright.”
While I retrieved Dewey, Sammi led him toward the couch.
”Patrick, do you know Island In The Sun?” Sammi asked as I took a seat.
“Wait, you like Weezer?” he asked, surprised.
“Mhmm. My mommy said that nursery rhymes corrupt children with lyrics that have no meaning whatsoever, so she lets me listen to her iPod.”
“How old are you?”
“Four,” she responded holding up the corresponding number of fingers. “…So do you know it?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. Taking a deep breath, he looked over at me. “Ready when you are…”
I carefully played the intro, hoping that I wasn’t making a total fool of myself. Patrick took his cue and began the verse, sending the butterflies already in my stomach into yet another frenzy.
“When you’re on a holiday
You can find no words to say
All the things that come to you and
I want to feel it, too
On an island in the sun
We’ll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can’t control my brain…”
——-
“We’ll run away together
We’ll spend some time wherever
We’ll never feel bad anymore…
We’ll never feel bad anymore
We’ll never feel bad anymore
No, no
No, no…”
Sammi excitedly clapped as we finished the song. “You could be on the radio, Patrick.”
“Thanks,” he said, with the most adorable smile on his face. “…But I can‘t take all the credit. Your aunt plays a mean guitar.”
I managed to get out a quiet “thank you” before blood rushed to my cheeks. Then, as if on cue, someone buzzed up my apartment.
“Now that’s probably your mom,” I said, standing up. After placing Dewey on the couch, I got up to answer it.
“Lauren?” I asked into the intercom.
“The one and only.”
I pressed the button allowing her to get inside the building.
“So what other music do you like?” Patrick asked, making small talk with my niece.
“Stuff that my mommy listens to… Shiny Toy Guns, Jason Mraz, Say Anything, Hellogoodbye, All Time Low, the Secret Handshake, Boys Like Girls, Sugarcult, Cobra Starship, the Beatles, Streetlight Manifesto, Forever the Sickest Kids… Oh, and Fall Out Boy. Aunt Juliet really likes them, too.”
Patrick looked over at me and I nodded.
“…They‘re one of my favorites,” I admitted.
“What’s your favorite song by them?”
“‘My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon’ probably tops the list.”
“Would you mind if I…” he trailed off and motioned toward Dewey.
“No, go ahead,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.
He picked up my acoustic guitar and strummed for a few seconds.
“Haven’t played this in a while, but I think I remember how it goes…”
While he sat there, tuning the strings, I stood by the door trying to wrap my head around the situation. Patrick Stump is on my couch with my guitar, about to play my favorite Fall Out Boy song.
“Spent most of last night dragging this lake
For the corpses of all my past mistakes
Sell me out the joke’s on you we are salt and you are the wound…”
Once Lauren knocked, I quickly answered it.
“Thanks again for—” Lauren stopped mid-sentence as she saw Patrick. Wide-eyed, she silently stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
“…I’m the kind of kid who can’t let anything go
But you wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and slit your throat…”
“Either I‘m going crazy, or Patrick Stump is on your couch, playing your guitar,” Lauren whispered.
“You’re not going crazy. It‘s him.”
“…Your remorse hasn’t fallen on deaf ears
Rather ones that just don’t care
And I know that you’re in between arms of a man
Next to heartbeats where you shouldn’t dare sleep
Now I’ll teach you a lesson for keeping secrets from me…”
As he broke into the refrain Sammi smiled, nodding her head to the beat, totally unaware of how many people would kill to be in her size 3½ shoes. Lauren and I slowly made our way toward the couch and took seats next to her.
“He’s really good,” she whispered to her mom.
“Yeah…”
The three of us sat there in quiet admiration while he continued to play.
“…Take your taste back
Peel back your skin
And try to forget how it feels inside
You should try saying no once in a while
Oh, once in a while…”
After strumming the outro, he shyly looked up from the guitar and met our applause.
“That was…wow,” Lauren said, still in shock. Patrick chuckled and set Dewey down next to him.
“Patrick, this is my sister Lauren. Lauren, this is Patrick,” I said, introducing the two.
“Hey, nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand.
“Likewise,” she said. “Sammi, it‘s time for us to hit the road.”
“Aww, but Patrick was playin some hot jams for us,” she replied, pouting.
“No buts,” Lauren said, poking her stomach. “It’s already an hour past your bedtime.”
“Okayyy…”
Sammi hopped off the couch and put on her coat and mittens.
“Thanks again for watching her, Jules. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Don’t worry about it. We had a lot of fun today.”
“Adios, Auntie Juliet,” the tiny brunette said. I leaned down and wrapped her in a hug.
“Bye, Captain Sam.”
“Bye, Patrick.”
“Bye,” he said, ruffling her hair.
Lauren waved to Patrick, then subtly yanked my arm toward the door.
“I’ll be expecting a call with all the details.”
“Bye, Lauren.”
She smirked as I closed the door.
When I turned around, I noticed that Patrick was quietly strumming my guitar once again.
“Why’d you name him Dewey?” he asked, looking up.
“When I was 11, I asked my parents if I could take guitar lessons,” I said, sitting down. “They said I needed to prove I could manage my time without letting my grades slip, so I volunteered at the library every day after school. Since the Dewey decimal system helped me get the lessons, I thought it would make sense to name my guitar after it.”
He smiled and handed the old acoustic to me. I set it aside so that Patrick and I would be face-to-face rather than face-to-tuner.
“What’s the name of your guitar?” I asked, pulling my legs onto the couch.
“Her name’s Molly,” he said, leaning against the cushions. “I kinda had a huge crush on Molly Ringwald back when I started playing.”
I chuckled at his response, lifting my hand to cover my mouth. I guess it was a self-conscious habit. He intercepted, however, placing his hand on top of mine.
“Your smile is really pretty,” he coyly said. “…You shouldn‘t hide it.”
“Babe, let me at least take off my coa—” Lacey said, hastily walking into the apartment, Parker attached to her waist. “Oh, hey guys. I thought you were going out today.”
“We were, but I needed to babysit Sammi for a while, so we stayed in,” I explained.
“Oh.”
“Well don’t mind me and Lace. We’re just going to make out in her room.”
Lacey’s eyes widened and she elbowed him. in the ribs.
“What? It’s the truth,” he said, shrugging.
She rolled her eyes and dragged him off, while he laughed and gave us the thumbs up. As the door clicked shut, I noticed that Patrick was still holding my hand.
“I know it didn‘t go according to plan, but how are you liking our first date?” he asked.
“I’m liking it a lot. We cooked dinner, hung out with an adorable 4-year-old, and you swept me off my feet with my favorite song.”
He smiled. “Would you mind sweeping me off my feet?”
“I could try, but there are no guarantees.”
I reached for Dewey once again and set him on my lap.
“Any requests?”
“Surprise me.”
“Alright…”
I sat there, sorting through song titles as my fingers randomly strummed chords. Holiday From Real seemed fitting: not too hard, not too easy, and not too cliché for a first date.
After taking a deep breath, I adjusted Dewey’s position and started playing.
“She thinks I’m much too thin
She asks me if I’m sick
What’s a girl to do with friends like this?
She lets me drive her car
So I can score an eighth from the lesbians at West and Venice
Oh, California in the summer
Oh, and my hair is growing long
And fuck yeah, we can live like this
But if you left it up to me every day would be a holiday from real
We’d waste our weeks beneath the sun
We’d fry our brains and say it’s so much fun out here
But when it’s all over I’ll come back for another year…”
+++++
Reviews and ratings would be SPECTACULAR.
I don't mean to sound like a whiny emo kid, but it kind of makes me sad how there aren't any ratings points on any of the chapters so far. After all, I put a lot of effort into writing all of this.
Fix it?
Sign up to rate and review this story