Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Everybody Wants Somebody
“My heart is on my sleeve, wear it like a bruise or blackeye. My badge, my witness means that I believed every single lie you said. ‘Cause every pane of glass that your pebbles tap negates the pains I went through to avoid you, and every little pat on the shoulder for attention fails to mention I still hate you.
“But there's a light on in Chicago, and I know I should be home. All the colors of the street signs. They remind me of the pickup truck out in front of your neighbor's house.”
From: trickvstump@gmail.com
To: ocdmusic@gmail.com
Subject: Studio work
S-
Great progress in the studio last week! You should have more confidence in yourself because holy smokes you’re a natural. Some tips to keep the flow going: remember to let yourself explore anything, write everything down even if you don’t think it’s good, you can always edit later, and let yourself have downtime if you feel stressed.
You seemed a little…off? I know recording an album can be overwhelming. Most people in bands have other members to lean on. It’s how FOB survived. You come to me, okay?
-P
----------------------------------------------
From: trickvstump@gmail.com
To: ocdmusic@gmail.com
Subject: checking in
S-
Been a few weeks since my last email and haven’t heard back from you. Pete said he talked to you a bit a couple days ago but that there hasn’t been a lot of work on your album. Hope everything’s alright, let me know if you need anything.
-P
----------------------------------------------
From: trickvstump@gmail.com
To: ocdmusic@gmail.com
Subject: IMPORTANT!
Sarah-
I’ve tried calling and texting you repeatedly in the month since my last email, but you haven’t responded at all. Did Bill do something? Did I do something?
This goes beyond the music now. I just want to fucking know if you’re okay.
-Patrick
----------------------------------------------
From: ocdmusic@gmail.com
To: trickvstump@gmail.com
Subject: RE: IMPORTANT!
P-
Sorry. I’m fine, Bill’s fine, we’re fine. Promise. Been trying to take care of myself, like you suggested. Still looking for more inspiration I guess.
I need time to sort some shit out in my head. Hard to do that when you keep calling and emailing me.
I’ll check in when I have something. Scout’s honor.
-S
----------------------------------------------
“CHRISTINE! Do you even fucking hear me?! Genevieve is my daughter, too. MY. DAUGHTER. You can’t keep—No, fucking li—I haven’t even seen her in a month, okay? We agr—Hey, keep her out of this!” Bill turned in his angry pacing and was surprised to see Sarah in the kitchen. His face flashed an apology, and he took a deep breath. “Look, Chris, I’m sorry for yelling.” He walked into the bedroom and shut the door.
Sarah continued to pour herself a cup of coffee and focused her attention on the Manhattan skyline. For the last week, she and Bill had been staying in New York while he worked with his band and their management and she cleared her head. Between the two of them, they had splurged for a month-long stay in a suite in a modern high-rise downtown, one that had its own kitchen and a closed bedroom.
Her last email to Patrick had been nearly six weeks prior, partially because she truly didn’t have much to say and partially because of Elisa’s looming threat. What was she supposed to say to Patrick? That his girlfriend was nuts and was the reason she’d been distant? She’d thought it best to stay away and focus instead on what she had. Rather, whom she had. While Sarah and Bill were better than ever and thriving in their honeymoon of a relationship, the news had gotten out about their dating and his soon-to-be ex-wife was furious about him dating and refused to let him see his daughter, let alone allow Sarah to meet the girl. Sarah did what she could to support Bill, but ultimately she realized none of it was up to her.
With Bill still on the phone, though this time he’d managed to get through to Christine and was chatting with Genevieve, Sarah slipped out of the hotel with her notebook and hit the streets. She hadn’t written anything meaningful for the better part of a month and knew she needed to make serious strides that day. She roamed the bustling city block by block, searching for a connection to something, anything. Cars honking insistently, people bickering unaware of the scene they created on the sidewalk; Sarah internalized the agitation that surrounded her. Fucking hate people, she thought bitterly. She made a hard right and made a beeline for Central Park just to get away.
She settled into a spot under a flowering tree, hair flowing in the light breeze. Despite the much more serene environment, Sarah couldn’t shake her irritation. Fucking people, fucking cars. Her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from Bill.
Bill: hey, sorry abt that. christine’s still upset abt us. you didnt have to rush out like that :( i love you. see you at the show tonight?
Sarah sighed and typed: No worries, needed to get some writing done anyways. I love you too. See you tonight. She hit send and shoved the phone back in her pocket. She was still pissed. Fucking Christine fucking Bill over. Fucking mean-ass girls. Fucking Elisa fucking w—Aha. She pulled her notebook out of her bag. Before she lost the moment, she furiously scribbled out a song chronicling the bullshit that Elisa and Christine had forcibly dragged into her life. She crafted her tone into something sarcastic and biting, and when she finished writing the lyrics, she started to imagine the words set to something upbeat and bouncy. This could be a hit. She chuckled at the thought and let the anger melt away.
----------------------------------------------------
Later that evening, Sarah leaned against the club bar at the show. Bill’s band decided to do a secret show, and she’d never seen them play together before, so she decided to tag along. She didn’t like the stereotype of “band girlfriends” who only hung out back stage. She wanted to be a part of the crowd and experience the music and performance they way she felt it had been intended.
The band went on as Sarah turned to the bartender.
“Cup of water please?” She screamed over the intensity of the music. He nodded at her and promptly handed it to her. She mouthed “thank you” and turned back to the stage, wading her way into the bulk of the audience of bouncing emo kids. Bill winked at her when they played “Summer Hair = Forever Young”, making her blush.
As she went back halfway through to get more water, someone grabbed her shoulder.
“Sarah?” She turned, ready to fight but dropped the impulse when she realized who it was.
“Patrick? What’re you doing here?” He went to hug her, and Sarah tensed up and backed away a little.
“I had some business in town and this is a go-to venue.” He tried to smile at her, but she stayed stoic. “Come here.” He led her away from the stage towards a quieter section of the club. “Care to explain why the fuck you’ve been ghosting me for the past three months?” Sarah sighed and stared at her feet.
“I haven’t been gho—”
“Bullshit!” She sighed again.
“Okay, you’re right. I’ve been avoiding you. It’s, it’s complicated,” she fibbed.
“Oh? Oh is it?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I have all night.” She looked up at him, unsure of how to proceed. She was terrified of Elisa’s threat; on the other hand, she hadn’t known how Patrick had reacted to her pulling away, and it hurt her to know she had hurt him in complying with Elisa’s demands. She aggressively ran her hands through her sweaty hair.
“You sure you want to know?” He looked at her expectantly and nodded. Okay, well here goes nothing. And she explained to him what happened with Elisa at dinner in Chicago, how she had figured out about their one-night stand and how she made Sarah feel uncomfortable. Sarah chose to downplay the threatening part. At the end, Patrick rolled his eyes a little but loosened up towards her.
“Okay, I kinda get it. Elisa can be, well she can get a little intense.”
“A little?” Sarah asked, eyebrow raised.
“Really intense.” He smiled. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Sarah’s eyes bugged.
“No! She’ll—” Sarah stopped herself. “I just, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“I’m not going to let her do this again!” He snapped. Realizing his tone, he composed himself. “Look, she’s done this before, with other friends and other artists, and not just women.” He sighed. “I told her when we got back together that it’d be different. This is part of that line I’m drawing with her.” Noticing Sarah’s discomfort, he took her hands in his and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not going to let her keep threatening my friends.” He knows.
“Okay.” She smiled slightly at him.
“Good. I want to be your mentor and friend again.” He smiled back. “So, back to the show?” She nodded, and they morphed into the crowd, dancing and jumping towards the back of a mosh pit that had formed mid-set. Admittedly, Sarah was having a good time, and she was relieved to be back in good graces with Patrick.
At the end of the show, someone from the mosh pit elbowed her in the chest and shoved her, causing her to trip into Patrick’s arms. He’d impulsively caught her, and she’d instinctively grabbed onto him, but they both lingered in the position a little longer than they should have; they blushed and shyly pulled apart. They stood looking at each other, and Patrick opened his mouth to speak when Sarah had to address the vibrating in her pocket.
“One sec.” Bill.
Bill: hey lady ;) whered you go? ready to hang and meet the guys?
Sarah: Hey! Kickass show! I’ll meet you out front in a minute :)
She looked back at Patrick. “Hey, sorry to cut the reunion short, I’m being summoned.” She laughed, and Patrick chuckled half-heartedly.
“It’s fine, no worries.”
“Well, hey, I’m here for another couple weeks. If you’re in town for a while still, let’s grab lunch and catch up.” He smiled.
“Yeah, I’d like that. And I’ll talk to Elisa and call her off.”
“Sounds good, dude.” They hugged. “See ya!”
“Bye.” Sarah quickly waved and sauntered off towards the exit.
“Hurry, hurry. You put my head in such a flurry, flurry. Oh freckle, freckle; what makes you so special? What makes you so special? I'm gonna leave you. Oh, I'm gonna teach you how we're all alone, how we're all alone.”
“But there's a light on in Chicago, and I know I should be home. All the colors of the street signs. They remind me of the pickup truck out in front of your neighbor's house.”
From: trickvstump@gmail.com
To: ocdmusic@gmail.com
Subject: Studio work
S-
Great progress in the studio last week! You should have more confidence in yourself because holy smokes you’re a natural. Some tips to keep the flow going: remember to let yourself explore anything, write everything down even if you don’t think it’s good, you can always edit later, and let yourself have downtime if you feel stressed.
You seemed a little…off? I know recording an album can be overwhelming. Most people in bands have other members to lean on. It’s how FOB survived. You come to me, okay?
-P
----------------------------------------------
From: trickvstump@gmail.com
To: ocdmusic@gmail.com
Subject: checking in
S-
Been a few weeks since my last email and haven’t heard back from you. Pete said he talked to you a bit a couple days ago but that there hasn’t been a lot of work on your album. Hope everything’s alright, let me know if you need anything.
-P
----------------------------------------------
From: trickvstump@gmail.com
To: ocdmusic@gmail.com
Subject: IMPORTANT!
Sarah-
I’ve tried calling and texting you repeatedly in the month since my last email, but you haven’t responded at all. Did Bill do something? Did I do something?
This goes beyond the music now. I just want to fucking know if you’re okay.
-Patrick
----------------------------------------------
From: ocdmusic@gmail.com
To: trickvstump@gmail.com
Subject: RE: IMPORTANT!
P-
Sorry. I’m fine, Bill’s fine, we’re fine. Promise. Been trying to take care of myself, like you suggested. Still looking for more inspiration I guess.
I need time to sort some shit out in my head. Hard to do that when you keep calling and emailing me.
I’ll check in when I have something. Scout’s honor.
-S
----------------------------------------------
“CHRISTINE! Do you even fucking hear me?! Genevieve is my daughter, too. MY. DAUGHTER. You can’t keep—No, fucking li—I haven’t even seen her in a month, okay? We agr—Hey, keep her out of this!” Bill turned in his angry pacing and was surprised to see Sarah in the kitchen. His face flashed an apology, and he took a deep breath. “Look, Chris, I’m sorry for yelling.” He walked into the bedroom and shut the door.
Sarah continued to pour herself a cup of coffee and focused her attention on the Manhattan skyline. For the last week, she and Bill had been staying in New York while he worked with his band and their management and she cleared her head. Between the two of them, they had splurged for a month-long stay in a suite in a modern high-rise downtown, one that had its own kitchen and a closed bedroom.
Her last email to Patrick had been nearly six weeks prior, partially because she truly didn’t have much to say and partially because of Elisa’s looming threat. What was she supposed to say to Patrick? That his girlfriend was nuts and was the reason she’d been distant? She’d thought it best to stay away and focus instead on what she had. Rather, whom she had. While Sarah and Bill were better than ever and thriving in their honeymoon of a relationship, the news had gotten out about their dating and his soon-to-be ex-wife was furious about him dating and refused to let him see his daughter, let alone allow Sarah to meet the girl. Sarah did what she could to support Bill, but ultimately she realized none of it was up to her.
With Bill still on the phone, though this time he’d managed to get through to Christine and was chatting with Genevieve, Sarah slipped out of the hotel with her notebook and hit the streets. She hadn’t written anything meaningful for the better part of a month and knew she needed to make serious strides that day. She roamed the bustling city block by block, searching for a connection to something, anything. Cars honking insistently, people bickering unaware of the scene they created on the sidewalk; Sarah internalized the agitation that surrounded her. Fucking hate people, she thought bitterly. She made a hard right and made a beeline for Central Park just to get away.
She settled into a spot under a flowering tree, hair flowing in the light breeze. Despite the much more serene environment, Sarah couldn’t shake her irritation. Fucking people, fucking cars. Her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from Bill.
Bill: hey, sorry abt that. christine’s still upset abt us. you didnt have to rush out like that :( i love you. see you at the show tonight?
Sarah sighed and typed: No worries, needed to get some writing done anyways. I love you too. See you tonight. She hit send and shoved the phone back in her pocket. She was still pissed. Fucking Christine fucking Bill over. Fucking mean-ass girls. Fucking Elisa fucking w—Aha. She pulled her notebook out of her bag. Before she lost the moment, she furiously scribbled out a song chronicling the bullshit that Elisa and Christine had forcibly dragged into her life. She crafted her tone into something sarcastic and biting, and when she finished writing the lyrics, she started to imagine the words set to something upbeat and bouncy. This could be a hit. She chuckled at the thought and let the anger melt away.
----------------------------------------------------
Later that evening, Sarah leaned against the club bar at the show. Bill’s band decided to do a secret show, and she’d never seen them play together before, so she decided to tag along. She didn’t like the stereotype of “band girlfriends” who only hung out back stage. She wanted to be a part of the crowd and experience the music and performance they way she felt it had been intended.
The band went on as Sarah turned to the bartender.
“Cup of water please?” She screamed over the intensity of the music. He nodded at her and promptly handed it to her. She mouthed “thank you” and turned back to the stage, wading her way into the bulk of the audience of bouncing emo kids. Bill winked at her when they played “Summer Hair = Forever Young”, making her blush.
As she went back halfway through to get more water, someone grabbed her shoulder.
“Sarah?” She turned, ready to fight but dropped the impulse when she realized who it was.
“Patrick? What’re you doing here?” He went to hug her, and Sarah tensed up and backed away a little.
“I had some business in town and this is a go-to venue.” He tried to smile at her, but she stayed stoic. “Come here.” He led her away from the stage towards a quieter section of the club. “Care to explain why the fuck you’ve been ghosting me for the past three months?” Sarah sighed and stared at her feet.
“I haven’t been gho—”
“Bullshit!” She sighed again.
“Okay, you’re right. I’ve been avoiding you. It’s, it’s complicated,” she fibbed.
“Oh? Oh is it?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I have all night.” She looked up at him, unsure of how to proceed. She was terrified of Elisa’s threat; on the other hand, she hadn’t known how Patrick had reacted to her pulling away, and it hurt her to know she had hurt him in complying with Elisa’s demands. She aggressively ran her hands through her sweaty hair.
“You sure you want to know?” He looked at her expectantly and nodded. Okay, well here goes nothing. And she explained to him what happened with Elisa at dinner in Chicago, how she had figured out about their one-night stand and how she made Sarah feel uncomfortable. Sarah chose to downplay the threatening part. At the end, Patrick rolled his eyes a little but loosened up towards her.
“Okay, I kinda get it. Elisa can be, well she can get a little intense.”
“A little?” Sarah asked, eyebrow raised.
“Really intense.” He smiled. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Sarah’s eyes bugged.
“No! She’ll—” Sarah stopped herself. “I just, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“I’m not going to let her do this again!” He snapped. Realizing his tone, he composed himself. “Look, she’s done this before, with other friends and other artists, and not just women.” He sighed. “I told her when we got back together that it’d be different. This is part of that line I’m drawing with her.” Noticing Sarah’s discomfort, he took her hands in his and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not going to let her keep threatening my friends.” He knows.
“Okay.” She smiled slightly at him.
“Good. I want to be your mentor and friend again.” He smiled back. “So, back to the show?” She nodded, and they morphed into the crowd, dancing and jumping towards the back of a mosh pit that had formed mid-set. Admittedly, Sarah was having a good time, and she was relieved to be back in good graces with Patrick.
At the end of the show, someone from the mosh pit elbowed her in the chest and shoved her, causing her to trip into Patrick’s arms. He’d impulsively caught her, and she’d instinctively grabbed onto him, but they both lingered in the position a little longer than they should have; they blushed and shyly pulled apart. They stood looking at each other, and Patrick opened his mouth to speak when Sarah had to address the vibrating in her pocket.
“One sec.” Bill.
Bill: hey lady ;) whered you go? ready to hang and meet the guys?
Sarah: Hey! Kickass show! I’ll meet you out front in a minute :)
She looked back at Patrick. “Hey, sorry to cut the reunion short, I’m being summoned.” She laughed, and Patrick chuckled half-heartedly.
“It’s fine, no worries.”
“Well, hey, I’m here for another couple weeks. If you’re in town for a while still, let’s grab lunch and catch up.” He smiled.
“Yeah, I’d like that. And I’ll talk to Elisa and call her off.”
“Sounds good, dude.” They hugged. “See ya!”
“Bye.” Sarah quickly waved and sauntered off towards the exit.
“Hurry, hurry. You put my head in such a flurry, flurry. Oh freckle, freckle; what makes you so special? What makes you so special? I'm gonna leave you. Oh, I'm gonna teach you how we're all alone, how we're all alone.”
Sign up to rate and review this story