Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > We All Mean Something
Chapter 7
Let’s Hear It For America’s Suitehearts
Waking up, I found his arms still around my shoulders. I carefully rolled out of his reach as to not wake him. He sighed and rolled over to his real side of the bed. I picked up my black skinny jeans from the side of the bed and slid them on. I stood up and walked to the bathroom, finding my bag of tolietries still in its proper place under the sink. I pulled it out and began to brush my teeth quietly, by the soft glow of the night lights lining up the hallways like catwalks. Finding my eyeliner, I reapplied my makeup and placed the bag back under the sink. It just felt wrong when it was out of place. I slipped my hoodie on over my Joy Division shirt and walked downstairs. The bright clock on the microwave read 8:00AM and I half smiled. He was never awake until at least noon. I found a pen and paper and scribbled something down.
Hey Peter,
heading over to brens. remember when we first went to his house together? think it was breakfast too. anyhoo, catch ya later? btw, cant wait to meet her.
Chelsea
I in fact did remember it was breakfast.
DATE? CAN’T REMEMBER…
“So, Bren how is the music writing going?” I smiled. The tension could’ve been cut with a razor.
“It’s good. Pete’s a great manager.” He looked down at the pancakes we all made.
“Thanks.” He grinned. I started giggling nervously and the whole table burst into laughter.
The long walk to Brendon’s house was awefully sobering. If finally came to my attention that this wasn’t the best idea in the whole world. I should not have come back to find them. I knew he would have moved on. I knew no one would have cared if I had come back. I felt the hot sting of tears behind my eyes and I pulled my hood up. Pete never cared about me the way I cared about him.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I arrived at Brendon’s by nine-thirty. I rang the doorbell, and it started raining heavily.
“Stupid Chicago weather.” I muttered and pulled my hood tighter around my ultra-thin frame. It took Bren fifeteen minutes and three more doorbell rings to answer the door. By this time I was soaked to the bone.
“Chelsea!” He screamed and pulled me in tightly to his warm frame. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m back?” I stuttered through chattering teeth.
“I see. When did you get back?”
“Last night.”
“Why didn’t you come see me yesterday then?” Harper stumbled downstairs in a long puffy silk shirt and boy shorts.
“I was with Pete.”
“What?! You were with who?” He shot daggers at me.
“Hey Chelsea, where have you been these last few years?” Harper smiled, linking arms with Brendon.
“I was with Pete last night, and well,” I looked towards Brendon, so ready to spill to truth, to let it off my chest. My deep dark secret. The reason Pete moved on with out me.
EARLY 2007.
Shaking heavily, Brendon walked me up to the doors.
“Your going to be just fine. No one’s going to bother you, I promise,” He hugged me tightly. I could only nod. I glanced behind me. Spencer and Ryan were pulling up suitcases behind me. “Please, Chelsea, just eat okay? We love you and want you to get better.” Tears started streaming down my cheeks and my fingers went cold.
“…I was in rehab for aneroxia.”
Let’s Hear It For America’s Suitehearts
Waking up, I found his arms still around my shoulders. I carefully rolled out of his reach as to not wake him. He sighed and rolled over to his real side of the bed. I picked up my black skinny jeans from the side of the bed and slid them on. I stood up and walked to the bathroom, finding my bag of tolietries still in its proper place under the sink. I pulled it out and began to brush my teeth quietly, by the soft glow of the night lights lining up the hallways like catwalks. Finding my eyeliner, I reapplied my makeup and placed the bag back under the sink. It just felt wrong when it was out of place. I slipped my hoodie on over my Joy Division shirt and walked downstairs. The bright clock on the microwave read 8:00AM and I half smiled. He was never awake until at least noon. I found a pen and paper and scribbled something down.
Hey Peter,
heading over to brens. remember when we first went to his house together? think it was breakfast too. anyhoo, catch ya later? btw, cant wait to meet her.
Chelsea
I in fact did remember it was breakfast.
DATE? CAN’T REMEMBER…
“So, Bren how is the music writing going?” I smiled. The tension could’ve been cut with a razor.
“It’s good. Pete’s a great manager.” He looked down at the pancakes we all made.
“Thanks.” He grinned. I started giggling nervously and the whole table burst into laughter.
The long walk to Brendon’s house was awefully sobering. If finally came to my attention that this wasn’t the best idea in the whole world. I should not have come back to find them. I knew he would have moved on. I knew no one would have cared if I had come back. I felt the hot sting of tears behind my eyes and I pulled my hood up. Pete never cared about me the way I cared about him.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I arrived at Brendon’s by nine-thirty. I rang the doorbell, and it started raining heavily.
“Stupid Chicago weather.” I muttered and pulled my hood tighter around my ultra-thin frame. It took Bren fifeteen minutes and three more doorbell rings to answer the door. By this time I was soaked to the bone.
“Chelsea!” He screamed and pulled me in tightly to his warm frame. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m back?” I stuttered through chattering teeth.
“I see. When did you get back?”
“Last night.”
“Why didn’t you come see me yesterday then?” Harper stumbled downstairs in a long puffy silk shirt and boy shorts.
“I was with Pete.”
“What?! You were with who?” He shot daggers at me.
“Hey Chelsea, where have you been these last few years?” Harper smiled, linking arms with Brendon.
“I was with Pete last night, and well,” I looked towards Brendon, so ready to spill to truth, to let it off my chest. My deep dark secret. The reason Pete moved on with out me.
EARLY 2007.
Shaking heavily, Brendon walked me up to the doors.
“Your going to be just fine. No one’s going to bother you, I promise,” He hugged me tightly. I could only nod. I glanced behind me. Spencer and Ryan were pulling up suitcases behind me. “Please, Chelsea, just eat okay? We love you and want you to get better.” Tears started streaming down my cheeks and my fingers went cold.
“…I was in rehab for aneroxia.”
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