Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Loose Lips Sink Ships
Pete stumbled through the front door at 2 a.m., drunk, and he knew it. He tiptoed quietly as he could down the hallway and into his bedroom. Not thinking straight as an effect of the alcohol, he managed to collapse right in front of his bedroom door and fall fast asleep.
Devin stepped out of her bedroom and started down the hall towards the bathroom, but was stopped when she saw the pathetic scene of Pete lying on the floor, his clothes ruffled. She knelt down to see if he was breathing, if he was ok; the stench of alcohol met her nostrils. She angrily shook him awake.
"'S goin' on?" he mumbled, blearily opening his eyes.
"Get up, you lazy-ass drunk." Devin snapped.
He sat up and scratched his head.
"God, I don't remember anything..."
"You didn't even come home last night."
"You aren't my mom."
"It's nice to know where you are! How did you get home?"
"Uh..."
"Look, next time you drink you feelings away, get into your bedroom before you throw up!" Devin snapped, pointing to the pool of sick several feet away.
"I wasn't drinking my feelings away!"
Devin looked his straight in the eye.
"Women can sense things like this, Peter." She said softly, and turned away.
Patrick came into the kitchen, where Devin was making muffins. She had her back turned to him. He slowly crept up behind her and but his hands on her waist, resting his head on her shoulder.
"'Morning, Love." He whispered, nipping her ear.
"'Morning. Have you talked to Pete yet?"
"He came home?"
"Yeah. Drunk, too. He threw up on the carpet."
Patrick turned Devin to face him.
"What's with him lately? He's acting funny, I just can't put my finger on it..."
Devin laughed coldly.
"Men." She breathed, and returned to the muffins.
"What?!" Patrick exclaimed, confused for the second time that week.
Pete sat in the darkness of his room, only a thin ray of sunlight streaming in through the window. He was staring at his blank notebook. He felt stupid...he'd left the house last night to write and had wound up in a bar. He hadn't writen a single word. He finally dropped his pen and jumped off the bed, disgusted. He never had this much trouble writing...unless he had other things on his mind. Tia flashed through his head, and he smiled faintly, then stopped. I can't do this, he thought, she's Joe's. He went out into the living room, where Patrick and Devin sat, talking.
"Do you guys want to go get something to eat?" he asked, glancing at the clock, which read 6:30.
"Yeah, sure."
"I'll call Andy and Joe." Devin said, reaching for the phone.
"No, that's ok." Pete said quickly.
"Why can't they come, Pete?"
"Well...uh, I thought...it could just be us."
Devin looked into his eyes, challenging him.
"They're coming." she said, and began to dial.
Half an hour later, the group was squished into a booth in a family restaurant downtown. Devin sat across the table from Pete, Andy and Patrick on either side of her, and Tia and Joe on either side of Pete. She knew she would be able to tell if Pete really did like Tia or not. She watched him out of the corner of her eye while she talked with Andy.
"This is a nice restaurant." Pete began pathetically, looking at Tia.
"Yes, it is." She answered, hardly looking at him.
"Are restaurants like this in England?"
Now she turned to him, and fixed him with a confused stare.
"Yes...pretty much."
"So I hear the silly little emo boy came home trashed in the wee hours of the morning." Joe grinned, playfully punching Pete in the shoulder.
"Ha, ha." He glared at Devin, who smiled apologetically.
"So what made you drink so much, buddy?" Joe asked.
"I dunno...I just did."
"Are you like Joe, here? Drinking his feelings away?" Tia asked.
"Uh...you could say that." Pete mumbled uncomfortably.
Their food came and the only conversation going on was between Devin and Andy, who were good-naturedly arguing about some comic book character. Pete chewed absently on his lasagna, not really paying attention to the flavor. He glanced at Tia, and smiled faintly. She was so cute, nibbling on her garlic bread. He gently brushed his leg against hers, and she looked up. Pete pretended not to notice he had done anything, and simply kept chewing.
When their plates where cleared and the bill was paid, they group debated going home, or going to a club.
"We haven't been out in so long." Devin sighed.
"Let's go to a dance club, then." Patrick decided, and the group pilled into Patrick's car and Joe's car, and they went to a downtown disco. The group sat at a table, drifting back and forth between the dance floor and their drinks. Tia and Patrick were the designated drivers, and simply had sodas. After Joe's 4th beer, he dragged Devin and Patrick onto the dance floor. Andy went and sat at another table, talking with some girls. Pete and Tia sat alone at their table in the corner of the club, talking.
"So, Peter, we never finished that conversation out by the pool. Why don't you have a girlfriend?" she asked, scooting closer.
"Well, I dunno, since Anna..." Pete said softly, remembering the whore who had broken his heart.
"Anna?"
"Yeah. She cheated on me...and every time I broke up with her, she'd come crawling back and I'd take her in. She smoked, drank, had wild parties and eventually ended up pregnant."
"You got her pregnant?"
"It wasn't mine. We'd never done anything."
"Oh. Wow, that's..."
"...hard," Pete finished, "Ever since Anna, I just never really went out with anyone again."
Tia reached over and stroked his arm soothingly, reassuringly. Pete felt chills up and down his spine. As they smiled at eachother, Joe stumbled over, now halfway through his 7th beer. He leaned over Tia and tried to kiss her, alcohol in his breath. She wrinkled her nose and pushed him away.
"Joe, stop it."
"You wanna go...somewhere?" he slurred.
"You're drunk."
"No I'm not..."
"Yes, you are!"
He swooped in, trying to kiss her again. Pete stood up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
"Leave her alone, Joe." He said firmly.
"She's my girlfriend!"
"I don't care, when she says leave her alone, leave her ALONE!"
Joe stumbled back drunkenly, returning to the dance floor.
"Thank you." Tia breathed, looking at Pete with admiration.
"No problem." Pete said, and suddenly realized he'd made it all too obvious that he liked her.
"I, ah, I've gotta go..." he threw a tip down on the table and left without even saying goodbye, tears stinging his eyes.
Devin stepped out of her bedroom and started down the hall towards the bathroom, but was stopped when she saw the pathetic scene of Pete lying on the floor, his clothes ruffled. She knelt down to see if he was breathing, if he was ok; the stench of alcohol met her nostrils. She angrily shook him awake.
"'S goin' on?" he mumbled, blearily opening his eyes.
"Get up, you lazy-ass drunk." Devin snapped.
He sat up and scratched his head.
"God, I don't remember anything..."
"You didn't even come home last night."
"You aren't my mom."
"It's nice to know where you are! How did you get home?"
"Uh..."
"Look, next time you drink you feelings away, get into your bedroom before you throw up!" Devin snapped, pointing to the pool of sick several feet away.
"I wasn't drinking my feelings away!"
Devin looked his straight in the eye.
"Women can sense things like this, Peter." She said softly, and turned away.
Patrick came into the kitchen, where Devin was making muffins. She had her back turned to him. He slowly crept up behind her and but his hands on her waist, resting his head on her shoulder.
"'Morning, Love." He whispered, nipping her ear.
"'Morning. Have you talked to Pete yet?"
"He came home?"
"Yeah. Drunk, too. He threw up on the carpet."
Patrick turned Devin to face him.
"What's with him lately? He's acting funny, I just can't put my finger on it..."
Devin laughed coldly.
"Men." She breathed, and returned to the muffins.
"What?!" Patrick exclaimed, confused for the second time that week.
Pete sat in the darkness of his room, only a thin ray of sunlight streaming in through the window. He was staring at his blank notebook. He felt stupid...he'd left the house last night to write and had wound up in a bar. He hadn't writen a single word. He finally dropped his pen and jumped off the bed, disgusted. He never had this much trouble writing...unless he had other things on his mind. Tia flashed through his head, and he smiled faintly, then stopped. I can't do this, he thought, she's Joe's. He went out into the living room, where Patrick and Devin sat, talking.
"Do you guys want to go get something to eat?" he asked, glancing at the clock, which read 6:30.
"Yeah, sure."
"I'll call Andy and Joe." Devin said, reaching for the phone.
"No, that's ok." Pete said quickly.
"Why can't they come, Pete?"
"Well...uh, I thought...it could just be us."
Devin looked into his eyes, challenging him.
"They're coming." she said, and began to dial.
Half an hour later, the group was squished into a booth in a family restaurant downtown. Devin sat across the table from Pete, Andy and Patrick on either side of her, and Tia and Joe on either side of Pete. She knew she would be able to tell if Pete really did like Tia or not. She watched him out of the corner of her eye while she talked with Andy.
"This is a nice restaurant." Pete began pathetically, looking at Tia.
"Yes, it is." She answered, hardly looking at him.
"Are restaurants like this in England?"
Now she turned to him, and fixed him with a confused stare.
"Yes...pretty much."
"So I hear the silly little emo boy came home trashed in the wee hours of the morning." Joe grinned, playfully punching Pete in the shoulder.
"Ha, ha." He glared at Devin, who smiled apologetically.
"So what made you drink so much, buddy?" Joe asked.
"I dunno...I just did."
"Are you like Joe, here? Drinking his feelings away?" Tia asked.
"Uh...you could say that." Pete mumbled uncomfortably.
Their food came and the only conversation going on was between Devin and Andy, who were good-naturedly arguing about some comic book character. Pete chewed absently on his lasagna, not really paying attention to the flavor. He glanced at Tia, and smiled faintly. She was so cute, nibbling on her garlic bread. He gently brushed his leg against hers, and she looked up. Pete pretended not to notice he had done anything, and simply kept chewing.
When their plates where cleared and the bill was paid, they group debated going home, or going to a club.
"We haven't been out in so long." Devin sighed.
"Let's go to a dance club, then." Patrick decided, and the group pilled into Patrick's car and Joe's car, and they went to a downtown disco. The group sat at a table, drifting back and forth between the dance floor and their drinks. Tia and Patrick were the designated drivers, and simply had sodas. After Joe's 4th beer, he dragged Devin and Patrick onto the dance floor. Andy went and sat at another table, talking with some girls. Pete and Tia sat alone at their table in the corner of the club, talking.
"So, Peter, we never finished that conversation out by the pool. Why don't you have a girlfriend?" she asked, scooting closer.
"Well, I dunno, since Anna..." Pete said softly, remembering the whore who had broken his heart.
"Anna?"
"Yeah. She cheated on me...and every time I broke up with her, she'd come crawling back and I'd take her in. She smoked, drank, had wild parties and eventually ended up pregnant."
"You got her pregnant?"
"It wasn't mine. We'd never done anything."
"Oh. Wow, that's..."
"...hard," Pete finished, "Ever since Anna, I just never really went out with anyone again."
Tia reached over and stroked his arm soothingly, reassuringly. Pete felt chills up and down his spine. As they smiled at eachother, Joe stumbled over, now halfway through his 7th beer. He leaned over Tia and tried to kiss her, alcohol in his breath. She wrinkled her nose and pushed him away.
"Joe, stop it."
"You wanna go...somewhere?" he slurred.
"You're drunk."
"No I'm not..."
"Yes, you are!"
He swooped in, trying to kiss her again. Pete stood up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
"Leave her alone, Joe." He said firmly.
"She's my girlfriend!"
"I don't care, when she says leave her alone, leave her ALONE!"
Joe stumbled back drunkenly, returning to the dance floor.
"Thank you." Tia breathed, looking at Pete with admiration.
"No problem." Pete said, and suddenly realized he'd made it all too obvious that he liked her.
"I, ah, I've gotta go..." he threw a tip down on the table and left without even saying goodbye, tears stinging his eyes.
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