Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I'm Just A Ghost, Haunting My Own Life
“Fears continue to grow for Fall Out Boy singer, Patrick Stump, as a week has now gone by since his disappearance with no word. I have with me, Pete Wentz, Patrick’s best friend and band mate. Would you like to say something, Pete?” the news anchor turned the microphone over to Pete.
Pete nodded; he looked pale, unshaven and nervous. The normally irrepressible de facto frontman, now appeared just as he was, a frightened friend, concerned for Patrick’s welfare, even his life.
“Patrick, if you’re watching this, please get in touch, whatever the problem is, we can work it out, all of us together. If… if,” Pete looked down, reluctant to think the words, never mind say them. “If someone out there has him… please let him go. We’ll pay any kind of ransom, just, please let him go.”
“Thanks, Pete for those heart-rendering words,” the anchorman added insincerely. “Just to round up, Patrick Stump, lead singer of chart-topping emo band, Fall Out Boy…”
“We’re not emo,” Pete could be heard to mutter in the background.
“… has been missing for a week. No one has heard anything from him either directly or from a kidnapper. Reports that he had been depressed are unconfirmed…”
“He wasn’t depressed,” Pete snapped irritably.
“… but Police are now considering the possibility of suicide.”
*
I was a little depressed, Pete had got that wrong. But not enough to commit suicide, nowhere near enough. Mind you, Pete suffers from depression; he knows how it really feels. Me? I was probably just a bit down, bored and my life lacked direction. For the first time in my life I had no idea what was next. It had been as if I had been checking things off a list, and now, the list was all checked and… well that’s just it, there was no ‘and’. I was drifting without focus, a ghost haunting my own life. They were my exact words. I should have known it was a mistake, but then, they say hindsight is twenty-twenty.
What am I doing now? I’m here in Pete’s apartment, sitting right next to him on the couch, but he can’t see me. We’ve both just watched the news report together and he’s worried, really worried. I can tell he’s upset because his hair’s messy. It’s funny, isn’t it, the small things you notice? I could have said that he was pale, I could even have said that his eyes were red, but no, the first thing I noticed was his hair.
The last time we spoke, we argued. It was a pathetic argument. One of those that starts out over nothing but ends up dragging past events into the mix, stupid stuff that you’ve never quite forgiven each other for. I guess we were tired and easily wound up. I stormed off. I knew it was a ridiculous argument even as we got into it, but I was too angry to say so or to apologise. So, I stormed off, disappearing into the cold, wet night. Now he thinks I’m in hiding, or worse still, that I’ve been kidnapped.
He doesn’t realise that the truth is stranger still.
I’m not making any sense, am I? Shall I go back to the beginning?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N - What do you think? Should he go back to the beginning?
Pete nodded; he looked pale, unshaven and nervous. The normally irrepressible de facto frontman, now appeared just as he was, a frightened friend, concerned for Patrick’s welfare, even his life.
“Patrick, if you’re watching this, please get in touch, whatever the problem is, we can work it out, all of us together. If… if,” Pete looked down, reluctant to think the words, never mind say them. “If someone out there has him… please let him go. We’ll pay any kind of ransom, just, please let him go.”
“Thanks, Pete for those heart-rendering words,” the anchorman added insincerely. “Just to round up, Patrick Stump, lead singer of chart-topping emo band, Fall Out Boy…”
“We’re not emo,” Pete could be heard to mutter in the background.
“… has been missing for a week. No one has heard anything from him either directly or from a kidnapper. Reports that he had been depressed are unconfirmed…”
“He wasn’t depressed,” Pete snapped irritably.
“… but Police are now considering the possibility of suicide.”
*
I was a little depressed, Pete had got that wrong. But not enough to commit suicide, nowhere near enough. Mind you, Pete suffers from depression; he knows how it really feels. Me? I was probably just a bit down, bored and my life lacked direction. For the first time in my life I had no idea what was next. It had been as if I had been checking things off a list, and now, the list was all checked and… well that’s just it, there was no ‘and’. I was drifting without focus, a ghost haunting my own life. They were my exact words. I should have known it was a mistake, but then, they say hindsight is twenty-twenty.
What am I doing now? I’m here in Pete’s apartment, sitting right next to him on the couch, but he can’t see me. We’ve both just watched the news report together and he’s worried, really worried. I can tell he’s upset because his hair’s messy. It’s funny, isn’t it, the small things you notice? I could have said that he was pale, I could even have said that his eyes were red, but no, the first thing I noticed was his hair.
The last time we spoke, we argued. It was a pathetic argument. One of those that starts out over nothing but ends up dragging past events into the mix, stupid stuff that you’ve never quite forgiven each other for. I guess we were tired and easily wound up. I stormed off. I knew it was a ridiculous argument even as we got into it, but I was too angry to say so or to apologise. So, I stormed off, disappearing into the cold, wet night. Now he thinks I’m in hiding, or worse still, that I’ve been kidnapped.
He doesn’t realise that the truth is stranger still.
I’m not making any sense, am I? Shall I go back to the beginning?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N - What do you think? Should he go back to the beginning?
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