FicWad

Part Thirty-Four

Keliah's POV

FAST FORWARD 3 MONTHS...

That tour was an absolute MESS. It's not that the shows were played badly, it was more or less the planning of it. It was way too disorganized.
Either way, we did have fun. I think the twins enjoyed looking around different places. When we went through France and Switzerland, Farrah and I would take the twins out for walks while the guys were busy rehearsing. The twins were now 5, almost 6 months old, and they were starting to point and gurgle things. We tried to explain to them whatever they were pointing at, but...they really weren't saying words. It's hard to explain.
As much as I hate to say it, Patrick, Joe, Pete, and Andy were having short fuses with each other again. Pete, being the troublemaker he is, tried to get Patrick's attention while he was trying to work on his laptop. Never a good idea. I even knew better than that. If he was working he just needed some space. Pete infringed on that space, which earned him a bruise on his left cheek from Patrick's clenched fist. Andy and Joe seemed to be ok, but then when you didn't expect it, they'd get very VERY short fused with each other. Honest to god, those guys were acting more and more like bitchy women every day.
The shows went fantastic; they all performed like there was no arguments going on. The fans in the crowd couldn't have even guessed what was going on behind the scenes. Farrah and I seen first-hand all of the unraveling that was going on backstage. Patrick would come to me after shows making sure that it looked okay, while him and Pete gave each other glares as they walked back to the bus. Pete was getting upset over stupid shit too. He'd gotten after Andy because he missed one drum fill on stage. Now, that hardly ever happens. Every time I've watched them perform, Andy is perfect on those drums. But of course, when Pete decided to be bitchy, it didn't matter what it was about. Joe wasn't happy in the first place the majority of the time. He just wanted to be back home already. I think the main reason Andy and Joe were getting pissed is because of everyone else was getting pissed. And honestly...with everyone acting like that, I just wanted a home life again.
Either way, after the two months were finished, we finally got back home. I had fallen asleep with the babies in my arms when I went to bed the first night we came back, and Patrick had taken care of everything before I woke up. The twins were fed, they took a nap, and when I woke up, Patrick was on the floor, leaned on the cribs, asleep. His face was peaceful and innocent, and I didn't dare wake him because I knew he needed his sleep. I felt bad about everything that was going on between him and the band, but I knew one of the things he was always looking forward to after those concerts was seeing the twins again. They were his life. But as much as he would probably hate to admit it, he couldn't give up his music entirely for them. I know him. Music is like breathing to him; it just comes naturally. And I couldn't ask him to do anything else. So despite all the long hours of touring we had to endure over the last couple of months, and the arguments that have gone on, I knew he did what he had to do.
Just yesterday, he had gotten a call to meet everyone at the studio the next day and Pete said to bring Farrah and I with him too so we could hear what was going on. I figured it had to have been important if Pete wanted us to hear it as witnesses. Patrick wasn't too happy about it, considering he'd already had enough of them during the tour. 
So.
Here we were, sitting in the car, on the way to the studio. We'd gotten Patrick's parents to come over to the house and watch the kids because we didn't know how long this was going to be. Patrick was quiet the majority of the ride there but then, clear out the blue, he asked me, "Why am I here?"
"What do you mean?"
We pulled into the driveway, and Patrick's hands fell to his lap.
"I mean, why is this happening? I feel like this whole band is just falling apart. I shouldn't have to be here. This meeting shouldn't be happening."
"Honey, things happen, you can't just-"
"I feel like this is my fault. I got away from the band and had a family, and now I feel like my best friends in the world are ignoring me and each other."
I sat in silence, not knowing what to say to that. It was like he was blaming me and the twins for what was going on. I looked at my feet, and I felt hot tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. I tried to stop them from coming and I just couldn't. I tried to hide being choked up and quietly said, "So you think WE never should have happened? Max? Lily?"
Patrick quickly lunged over to me and held his hand to my chin. "Oh, god, no, no, honey, don't ever think that. I didn't mean it like that. I've been frustrated out of my mind lately and I can't seem to figure out why and I wasn't thinking about what I was saying. Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. I am so sorry, please..." He wiped away my tears with his thumb and weakly smiled. "Remember what I said to you when the press was trying to interfere with our lives. I will love you no matter WHAT. Whether the band is in trouble or not, I will always love you. Don't ever think I regret meeting you. I never have, and I never will. I will never regret being a father either. I love my family; more than life itself. I just...love my music too."
I nodded and half-smiled through my tears. "I know you do. I couldn't take you away from it. I just couldn't. I want you to be happy."
"I want you to be happy too. In fact, I want you to be so goddamn excited to wake up every morning, that that perfect smile of yours never leaves your face." he said with a weak smile. "And if this band does all fall to pieces, then so be it. As long as I have you."
I smiled again, my tears stopping. "If your band falls to pieces, I will be right by your side when it does."
He nodded and wiped a few more tears from my face. "Let's go inside and face this then."
I nodded too. I took a deep breath as we exited the car. I seen Farrah's car here, along with Andy and Joe's but I didn't see Pete's. I didn't think anything else of it, and Patrick opened the door for me as we walked into the studio. The oh-so-familiar surroundings that were once so relaxing and nice, were replaced with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. The memories in the bathroom. In the sound booth. Right in this room. Everything felt like it was being turned upside down. Patrick and I sat in a couple of chairs on one side of the room next to Farrah. We were all spaced quite a bit apart, a huge gap in the middle of us all, almost representing how far apart we had grown. Joe sighed loudly and said, "Does anyone know where Pete is? He's the asshole that called this, he should be here."
Andy scoffed at him. "I bet you he set us up. It's definitely something he would do."
Joe stood up and held his hands in the air. "Well, then, I'm not dealing with this shit. I'm going home."
Patrick stopped him. "He'll probably be here soon, dude, sit down."
"Don't tell me what to do." Joe grumbled, earning him a nasty look from Patrick. These guys were like totally different people. Whatever tension and whatever reasons were causing these emotions seriously needed to be put out into the air so they could at least leave on good terms with each other. We all sat in silence until Andy turned to me. "How are Max and Lily?"
"They're doing fantastic. Almost able to talk. Almost."
"Wow. Sounds pretty exciting." he said nodding, his red hair brushing up against his shoulders.
"Yeah, it is." I agreed and we then went back to nervously ignoring each other. Joe piped up again, leaning back in his chair.
"Where the fuck is Pete? If he doesn't get here within-"
"I'm here, so you can shut the fuck up." I heard Pete's voice say behind me. He just walked in from the rain that had started out side. His normally perfect hair was in a mess either from the rain or just lack of caring. His eyeliner looked like it hadn't been fixed for days. In other words, he looked like a total mess.
He threw down his stuff in the doorway and shut the door behind him. He walked to one of the chairs, crossed his legs, and starting talking.
"Alright, so I know we're all pretty pissed off at the moment, so we're just gonna say it out loud, because I'm sick of dealing with this shit, and I'm sure you are too. Whatever you feel like saying, any problem, anything, just spit it out. We need to get this out in the open or we're going to kill each other."
Joe raises a hand. "Oh, I've got a problem alright."
"Alright, Joe. You start."
"I've got a problem, and his name is Peter Lewis fucking Kingston Wentz the FUCKING third."
Pete leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Joe continued. "I'm sick of your whole, 'i'm the leader', attitude, man. It's not cool. You don't look awesome when you act like a total dick, you just look like a dick. And when you pull your goddamn pranks on everyone, it just pisses people off, you know that? It isn't funny, it's not 'cute', it's a pain in the ass."
Pete had a hand over his mouth and moved it to say one thing. "You done?"
"Yes. I think that's it. If I think anymore I'll make DAMN sure to let you know, ok?"
"Fine. Patrick?"
I felt his hand quickly land on top of mine on my thigh, and he took a deep breath. He was ready for this.
"Alright, you wanna know what's pissing me off? I'm supposed to be writing the fucking music for this band, am I right?" Everyone silently nodded. "Well then, that means if I have my headphones on and I am on my laptop, you back the fuck away, got it? I can't get anything done with all of you messing with everything, and damnit, no one touches my laptop without my permission. One of you assholes touched the keys with something sticky on your fingers and now one of the goddamn keys won't work. So thank you, whoever's dumb ass did that. It's a shame there aren't security cameras in that bus."
Joe nervously spoke up. "I did it. I was checking my email."
Patrick tried to get up to lunge at him but I held him firmly in his seat. He relaxed again, and continued. "Oh, and, just an extra thing, Pete. Quit being such a picky bitch all the time. Not everything or everyone can be perfect. You needed to lay off Andy when you started getting all pissy about his missing a drum fill. Who cares? The fans didn't notice it, hell, I didn't even notice it and I wrote the goddamn music for it. And honestly, when's the last time you DIDN'T fuck up onstage? You need to stop being such an uptight bastard."
Pete nodded, and I seen him clench his teeth. "Andy?"
Andy twiddled his fingers and looked down. "I honestly am just pissed off that the rest of you are. This is stupid shit to be fighting over. Honestly. I suppose my only complaint is that you guys totally need to stop being so messy on the buses. It really makes it hard to find stuff and it just makes the whole bus a shitty place to be. It's already shitty to be living on a bus for a couple of months, but with all the clutter around it makes it even worse."
Pete sat up in his chair and I seen his jaw clench tighter. "My turn."
Each one of the guys nervously adjusted themselves in their chairs.
"Let me go ahead and just bitch at you one at a time. I'll save the best for last, I promise." Pete turned to look at Joe. "Joe. Starting with you. I'm sick of how you bitch about everything. It's like a, 'Why are you bitching about something that isn't even your problem?'. Some of the shit you get angry about it WORTHLESS. Maybe if you would stop your fucking incessant whining all the time, maybe there wouldn't be anything for you to WHINE ABOUT."
Joe snarled at him as he stopped and moved on to Andy. "You. You don't even bother intervening. I don't see what you even have to bitch about. Your playing has been lazy on stage and it shows. And your goddamn OCD on the tour bus drives me insane. I want to be able to take my stuff and throw it wherever I feel like. Not have it completely alphabetized and in piles when I get back. You can't find ANYTHING that way. And even then, when you do that, you're touching my stuff. Don't. Touch. My. Fucking. Stuff." he stopped and then stood up, slowly walking towards Patrick. Patrick and Pete's eyes never left each other as they stared each other down. I felt Patrick's hand tighten onto mine and I held onto his arm protectively. 
"Patrick. You promised this wouldn't happen. What happened to the, 'I wouldn't leave this for the world' attitude? You've stopped caring. You say you're busy writing music, well, where the fuck is it? Either it's taking you years to write anything good anymore, or you're just slacking off, aren't you?" Patrick stood up and walked in front of Pete. Height difference didn't matter when Patrick was pissed. I latched onto Farrah's arm, watching what was about to go down. Even Joe and Andy were a bit surprised at what was going on.
"I haven't seen any lyrics coming from you either, smart ass. What's a matter, Pete's witty and charming brain isn't working anymore?"
"Doesn't change the fact that there is no music to put it to. This is a two-way process man, you have to pull your weight, no matter how much it may be nowadays. Probably about 20 more pounds than normal?"
"Make fun of me all you want Wentz. I'm gonna be more successful than you in the long run anyway. I'll be laughing at this 5 years from now. I don't need you."
"Oh, so one day we're best friends who rely on each other and now you don't need me anymore? Boy, she's really got you hooked doesn't she? What happened to bros before hoes, dude?" Pete said, nodding towards me, but his eyes never left Patrick's face. I covered my mouth with my hand to muffle a scream as I seen Patrick push Pete backwards. 
"Don't you EVER talk about her like that again, or I will break that pretty face of yours."
This wasn't normal talk for Patrick. I knew he got annoyed sometimes, but this was bad. Pete usually wasn't this abusive either. The both of them had crossed the line this time; it was all about who was going to get through it in one piece. Pete had a manic personality, he'll admit it himself, and he was making the room colder than winter now. His fury showed in his face as his lips curled into a snarl.
"Oh, so NOW you're getting all defensive? What happened to defending the band? I have saved your ass so many times, and do you know what kind of shit they're saying about me in those magazines? Where is my friend to back me up? He's at his house fucking his wife, that's where."      
"You shut your fucking mouth Pete." Patrick warned.
"No. No, I don't think I will. This band is crashing into little tiny pieces because we all suck now. Including me, including you. And now the band is crashing to everyone else too, because they're reading about how shitty I am in magazines. People don't like us anymore, dude. And I doesn't help when everyone in this band has stopped caring about what's important, and someone is going off and FUCKING. HIS. WIFE."
A straight punch to the jaw shut Pete up quickly. Joe and Andy got up, and they started yelling as Pete punched Patrick back twice, giving him a bloody lip and probably a bruise on his face too. Patrick stumbled backwards as Joe and Andy started in on Pete and I screamed. I ran to where Patrick was standing, still in shock from being hit, and I stopped him from falling onto the floor.
"Oh, god, Patrick are you ok? You're bleeding..."
"Yeah, it's ok. I'm fine. I promise."
He stood up straight again and walked back into the fight, aiming for Pete still. A few more punches were thrown before Farrah got up and screamed the loudest she could. All the guys stopped and backed away from each other, looking at her.
"What the HELL was that for?" Joe screamed, covering one ear.
"It was to get you guys stop acting like fucking morons! ALL of you, SIT DOWN. You act like fucking three year olds, I swear to god...."
All of them reluctantly moved to their seats. Patrick sat down next to me with a scowl on his face, blood still running down his chin. He took my hand quickly and held it like he wouldn't let go. Farrah took a deep breath, stepped into the center of the circle and began.
"Okay. You guys are FALL OUT BOY. Am I right? Yes. I am. You're one of the biggest bands around. Almost everyone knows who you are. Individually and as one whole being. Right now, individually, you're all doing pretty well, and I'll congratulate you on such. However. This band as a whole has become SHIT because you guys can't understand each other like you used to. What happened to that insane tolerance level you guys had? Did all of you just wipe it away as soon as you got home? I understand some of you have busy lives, and things to do. But this...this is probably the most ridiculously stupid thing I have EVER witnessed in my life. You guys are supposed to be like brothers. I understand sibling rivalry, but this is going too far. You're supposed to be like family. A family that creates the music they feel like making, and not one someone else's deadline. What the fuck happened to you?"
Andy nodded. "This is stupid, guys. Do any of us really know what we're fighting about anymore?"
All the guys nervously shrugged and stared down at the floor. 
"My point exactly." Farrah said. "You guys aren't even thinking about what you're doing. You all are BEST FRIENDS. You've known each other for AGES. This shouldn't be happening; you should be able to deal with each other. You have for years. What's changed? You've started picking petty fights. Stupid fucking fights that have never been an issue. You need to grow up, guys. Stop taking cheap hits at each other, it looks pathetic."
Pete nodded. "This has to look pretty bad..."
Patrick looked up at him. "You seriously need to stop being a bitch, though."
"Look, I KNOW I'm being a bitch about all this. I just...don't want this to stop. I feel like if we all don't care enough anymore, then it's all lost."
"That doesn't mean you need to be such a dick. You can care without being a complete moron to the rest of us."
"I know..." Pete mumbled, nervously shuffling his feet on the floor.
Joe leaned forward in his chair with his head in his hands. "This is ridiculous, guys. We all just...need a break."
Andy nodded. "A break sounds nice. Some time away from all this. We're at each others throats all the time now. We need some time to actually miss each other."
Patrick agreed. "I'm not gonna be forgetting about this anytime soon." he said, lightly putting a finger to his busted lip. He winced in pain and pulled his hand away quickly, turning angrily to Pete again. "Dude, do you have any idea how hard it's going to be to sing with this? Do you realize what you've done?"
"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to punch you in the lip."
"And in the face?"
"Nah, I was aiming for your face."
"Your aim sucks."
Pete smiled a little and Patrick returned the smile as well. Farrah giggled.
"Are you all going to stop acting like you're three year olds now?"
All of them quietly nodded. "I guess so." Pete said, looking at Patrick again.
"Look, man, I'm sorry for all the stuff I said. Kel, you're the best thing that's ever happened to Patrick, I never meant any of that."
I bowed my head and accepted his apology. "Thank you." I said softly. Patrick wrapped his arm around me, pulling me tightly to him, and looked suspiciously back at Pete.
"I do believe we all need sometime away from each other."
"But we're good right?"
"We're okay. We just need some time away."
They all agreed and we got up to hug each other one last time. Andy was probably the most upset. "This is stupid. We really shouldn't have to do this. I'm gonna miss you guys."
Patrick patted him on the back. "We all have just...grown up. That's all. We can all do other stuff. We just need time to miss each other. Then maybe when we come back, there will be a crap load of lyrics and a crap load of music to put together and make amazing songs again."
He nodded in agreement and I hugged each one of the guys one last time. They each said something different. Andy was nice about it, and promised to come visit sometimes. Joe did the same. The only thing Pete seemed to be able to say was sorry. I think he really felt bad about what he said. He did that a lot though; he would say things he wouldn't mean when he was angry. It wasn't new to me, but what he said had stung me a bit. Patrick was right. We needed some time away. Farrah had no grudges against anyone, and she promised to visit all of us, especially Patrick, Max, Lily, and I. She loved those twins, and they loved her. However, I knew that Max and Lily had become attached to each one of the guys too; they got used to having them around, so they were probably going to be fussy for the first few weeks. We slowly all said our goodbyes, and walked out into the rain to our respective cars. Patrick and I sat in our car for awhile, watching each car leave the studio, the headlights slowly fading away in the distance.
"I can't believe this. We're done." he said, leaning down to hit his head on the steering wheel. He was clutching onto the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
"Honey, whatever was done had to be done. We all know that. If you would've stayed together you would've torn each other apart."
He continued to softly hit his head on the steering wheel. "I can't believe it..." he whispered. I gently pulled him away from the wheel and cupped his face in my hands. His eyes had watered up, but no tears had fallen. His green eyes were dulled to a green-gray color. "Patrick, honey, look what this is doing to you. You can't let this get to you so badly, sweetheart. You said it yourself; eventually you may come back together and you'll be better than ever. Don't think of it as losing friends or a band, think of it as...a vacation. You're just taking a break. No one said you were splitting as a band."
"I know...but it's going to be so hard to not see them for awhile."
"Ah, yes, but you have the twins to come home to. And they love you more than anyone in the world."
He looked down again. "I feel like I'm setting a bad example for the twins though and-"
"Patrick, they are young enough that all they want to know about you is that you're their father. They don't care about the mistakes you've made in life and they don't care what you do for a living. All they want is their father."
He closed his eyes in silence. I leaned forward and kissed him gently, trying not to hurt his bloody lip. I could taste his blood on my lips, but I didn't care. He kissed me back just as carefully and sighed. He pulled away, his eyes still closed, and tried to bite his lip, only to wince in pain. "I love you so much. Through all of this, you've been by my side. Thank you."
"You're my husband. And I'm your wife. It's the least I can do for you."
He looked out the windshield at the rain that was pouring onto the car. "I guess.....I guess it's time to go home."
"Let's go back and try to get adjusted to this then. We'll have an evening alone, just me, you, and the twins."
"I love you." he said again, starting up the car.
"I love you too." I whispered, kissing his cheek before he pulled out of the parking lot on the way back home.