Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Fate

Chapter Five

by danceislife 4 reviews


Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: G - Genres: Humor - Published: 2009-08-25 - Updated: 2009-08-26 - 2492 words

I had a whole big long saga of an intro but then POOF! it was gone. Let's try this again:

I almost put this story on infinite hiatus (not like the Blink-182 kind of hiatus where I come back after a few years). Mibba is starting to piss me off and there seems to be drama going on here or something. Whatever. I just wanna write, dammit! So with that attitude I'm continuing.

I love all you crazy kids; thanks for the reviews! This update was originally merged with the next one, but it was over 20 pages in word and I figured I liked it better if I had the next one ready so you wouldn't have to wait as long.

Other things to thank for this update:

1) $2 after 2 promo at Starbucks. I would like to hug whoever created this.

2) 3eb's new cd. 3eb's old cd's. 3eb in general. I have all their cd's. I used to listen to "Losing a Whole Year" every day of junior high because the first line is "I remember you and me used to spend, the whole goddamned day in bed" and I had to get up soooo early for dance that all I wanted to do was go back to bed. "Crystal Baller" made the sucky part of my junior year of high school a lot less sucky. I got lost driving for an hour and a half and just listened to "Non-Dairy Creamer" on repeat. If you couldn't tell, I love 3eb.

3) I have new shoes.

There you go.


“Fuck Avery, what time is it?” I ask, pulling a pillow over my head to block out the sound of the alarm. Avery had been smart and sober enough to set the alarm on her phone last night.

“It’s ten. We have to be in the studio by noon. You have about an hour to get ready for the shoot and then we’ll have to book it there,” she says, her voice getting closer to the bed until I figure she’s stopped. I peer out from under the pillow. She smiles and holds out a coffee cup to me. I groan and regretfully sit up, taking the cup from her hand and taking a sip. Mmm. Just the way I like it.

“What time did we go to bed?” I ask, almost fearful of the answer. I follow Avery up the stairs.

“Around five I guess,” Reid says cheerfully when we step into the kitchen.

“So much for being a bitch,” I murmer. I really don’t know how she does it. She never gets the recommended eight hours of sleep and runs herself ragged. I figure it will catch up with her someday. Until then I’ll be jealous.

“She’s had almost a whole pot of coffee to herself,” Avery whispers. That explains the cheerful tone.

“So I’ve got an hour?” I ask, trying to calculate my time.

“Well, more like 55 minutes now,” Reid says, pointing to the clock. “I made pancakes.” What a freak.

“Mind if I use the shower?’ I ask, after grabbing a pancake and shoving it into my mouth. Then I notice they’ve both already showered. Reid is playing with her makeup in the decorative mirror on the wall. She likes to get creative with it. She says the human body is her canvas and that’s why she likes doing makeup and hair for shoots like we’re about to do. Today her eyelids are bright pink; not hot pink, but a bright vibrant pink that is more dark than neon.

I grab my bag from the basement and lock myself in the bathroom.

In the shower, I try to focus on the shoot. I know we’re having a band today, but I usually never do the research on who the people we actually photographed were. Avery always does that and I can usually work off of her plans. I debate for about 30 seconds on whether or not to shave my legs. I decide I might as well do a half assed job. I don’t remember what clothes brought and I might end up stealing a dress from Avery anyway.

The towels at Avery’s house are always soft. And bleached white. Easier to keep clean I guess. I use one of the ends to wipe the steam off the mirror. I take a second to take in my appearance. I figure I can work with this. Maybe I can talk Reid into letting me borrow some makeup in the car. I check the clock in the bathroom. 40 minutes. I pull out the hair dryer under the sink and soon my hair is dry. I pull a pair of jeans and a long sleeved burgundy shirt out of my bag. I begin rooting around, looking for something to help my hair. Perhaps a hair tie.

“Want my straightener?” Avery appears in the doorway, hip cocked to the side with her flat iron in one hand and the other gripping the frame over her head.

“Perfect. You read my mind,” I say, taking the device from her plugging it in and waiting for it to heat up.

“Any fun dreams?” Avery asks as Reid appears next to her in the door way. But before anyone can answer, we are interrupted by a visitor.

“Party in the bathroom?” I ask when Avery’s dog Munchkin shoves her way in through Avery and Reid and proceeds to sit at my side, obviously thinking something interesting is going on. Or I have a treat.

Munchkin is huge. When I say huge, I mean small pony huge. They don’t call her a “Great” Pyrenees for nothing. Avery is into ironic names, hence a “small” name for such a large dog. Avery had always wanted a dog, and for her 18th birthday, Reid and I found her the cute little white ball of fluff that would turn into the massive beast beside me.

“Munchie, what are you doing?” Avery coos. Munchkin ignores her, still looking expectantly at me. I can’t help but laugh and ruffle the hair on her head and neck. She seems to enjoy that, turning around so I can itch her back.

“So back to dreams,” Avery says, once Munchkin leaves.

“I don’t really dream,” I say slowly, noticing the indicator light on the iron has switched to green, meaning it is ready to tame my hair. I press the metal plates around a chunk of my hair and pull down slowly.

“Well, I had a fantastic dream!” Avery shouts, making me jump and almost burn myself. I’m glad for the change of focus.

“Inside voices!” I whisper sharply. She sticks out her tongue.

“Anyway! I had a dream that Rodrigo and I were in a hotel suite and there were roses everywhere and-“ is as far as Avery can get before Reid interrupts.

“If you’re going to say anything about sex, you can stop now.” I can see Reid roll her eyes in the mirror. I then focus on the front of my hair, the last part. They aren’t working the way I want them to and it takes a couple of passes of the iron before I call it quits.

“I wasn’t going to! Meanie,” Avery says, taking the straightener from my outstretched hand and walking down the hall to her bedroom. I guess that conversation is over. And I’m glad too.

Basically, I lied. I did have a dream. But it wasn’t one I was ready to share yet. It started with a red head and it ended where I can only assume Avery’s did. I blush slightly at the memory.

“You’re looking a little flushed Harper. Are you feeling alright?” Reid asks, concern in her voice. She’s such a mom.

“I think with the shower and the heat from the blow dryer and from straightening my hair, along with this shirt have me a little overheated. I’m going to grab my stuff and I’ll meet you outside,” I make up, quite proud of my little explanation.

Before she can really respond, I jet to the basement to find my bag and shoes from last night. Grabbing my purse, I walk out the patio door and circle around to the front of the house. Reid’s car has blocked in the other ones. It seems Reid has followed me and appears in front of me.

“Where the fuck is Avery?” Reid leans against the car, arms crossed attempting to look sour. Not ten seconds later, Avery comes rushing out looking quite proud of herself.

“What’s with you?” I ask suspiciously.

“I’m not pregnant!” she shouts triumphantly.

“Congrats?” Reid says in a questioning tone.

“Did you think you were?” I ask. She didn’t tell us that.

“I missed last month,” she says, not looking either of us in the eyes.

“You fucker!” Reid exclaims. She has colorful language when she hasn’t had enough sleep, which was pretty regular actually.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” I accuse.

“I’m lame and didn’t think it could happen to me.” Avery calls shotgun, grabs Reid’s keys and before we can really respond she’s in the car with the stereo on. She’s probably trying to avoid our obviously forthcoming questions. Reid takes the front seat while I make myself comfortable in the back.

“Did anyone know? Did Rodrigo know? You weren’t cheating on him were you?” Question after question fly out of Reid’s mouth as she speeds into the city.

“Of course I wasn’t cheating on him! No one knew, unless you count Munchkin and I didn’t tell Rodrigo,” she finishes. “I knew if he thought there was even a possibility he would have dropped everything and come here. I didn’t want to cause a fuss over nothing. And see? Perfectly fine.” She’s picking at her nails, a tell tale sign that she’s nervous. As Reid questions her more, I fall into my own thoughts while putting on some eye makeup courtesy of Reid’s makeup case. Being in the back seat by myself makes it easier to do my own thing.

Last night was fun. I’m glad Avery and Reid talked me into it. Well, mostly Avery but she can’t always have all the credit. I’m trying very hard not to poke myself in the eye with the mascara wand, but the road is pretty bumpy. It’s not the first time I’ve done this, but I’m still not much better than the first time. Next is eyeliner; pencil not liquid. I’d probably end up with eyeliner everywhere if I tried to do liquid in here.

Nights like last night don’t happen often. My mind drifts to everything that happened with Caleb. And then my dream. Blushing again, I decide I’m going to think of something clever to send him. I’m not sure yet what that will be; but I’ll think of something. I reach into my bag, but my phone isn’t where it usually is. I end up dumping the contents over the back seat. Nothing. I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn around, groping the seat and searching the crevices for my beloved device.

“Fuck! Where is my phone?” I groan. Reid looks at me from the rear view mirror.

“You had it last night when you went to bed. You probably slept with it and it’s hiding under the sheets,” she says in a nonchalant tone.

“You’ll just have to stick with one of us today,” Avery says. She’s right; I could live without my phone for a day.

“But that’s not why I wanted it,” I grumble under my breath.

“What was that?” Reid teases. I can see the grin reflected in the mirror. It’s useful for both directions it seems.

“Someone is missing a certain boy,” Avery says in a sing-song voice. I roll my eyes at their attempts to embarrass me. Even if they are slightly working.

“Do you want Reid’s phone?” Avery offers.

“Fuck no! Use your phone Avery! I’m not going to have my phone involved in some phone sex scandal or whatever the fuck would happen!” Reid laughs at the end.

“I’m kidding boo. You wanna use it Harrper?” Reid starts digging around in her pocket, driving with one hand. She’s talented at driving and doing a billion other things at once, which is usually why we let her drive. Avery rarely drives. She failed her driver’s test twice.

“I’ll survive until I get home,” I sigh, somewhat disappointed.

“That will make him anxious if he is interested; keeping him waiting. I like it.” Reid takes both hands off the steering wheel and clasps them together like a cartoon villain.

“You make me nervous when you do that Re,” Avery comments. I’m used to it. It’s not like I’ve never done something like that. I text and drive all the time; no accidents here; not that either of them have been in any either.

“I’ll be on my best behavior now. Scouts honor,” Reid uses one hand to shove one hand making the Girl Scout honor sign in Avery’s face and the other moves back to the steering wheel.

“You haven’t been a Girl Scout since 4th grade,” Avery argues, pushing her hand away. Reid just laughs and points to our favorite building.

“The Great Vagina!” I announce. We all get a good laugh out of that one. If traffic is good, which it probably isn’t, we should be there in 15 minutes. Avery has intense road rage, which is going to be fun for any hold ups.

“What the hell do they think they are doing?!” she yells. She presses the button to roll down her window, but Reid smacks her and moves it back up.

“Bad,” she scolds, waving her finger at Avery. She tries to bite it, and they mess around until the car behind us honks.

“Fuckers,” Reid says and I throw up the special finger, although it’s probably not visible through the window. Doesn’t matter. My antics make Reid giggle.

“What’s this band’s name again?” I ask. I know that Avery will know.

“Forever something,” she says, digging around in her bag for what I’m assuming is the paper.

“Forever. Forever. Shit I don’t remember.”



And there you go! Constructive criticism is always appreciated. This includes grammar and spelling. I have a hard time reading over my own writing and catching little things like that.

Question: What is your favorite animal?

Mine is the "Dumbo Octopus": I think they are just adorable!
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