Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Different Names for the Same Thing

Chapter 4

by howshesews 2 reviews

no summary. surprised?

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Humor, Romance - Published: 2006-09-23 - Updated: 2006-09-24 - 1230 words

Dinner was eventful. Imagine an upwards of twenty guys in a Taco Bell. Nothing incredibly crazy or stupid happened. But it was still incredibly crazy and stupid.

No complaints from me though, it's here or summer classes, so obviously I opt for twenty guys in Taco Bell. Afterwards, we were supposed to leave for Kansas City and be there by morning. Luckily, though, our crew manager decided if we left in the morning we'd still have plenty of time for set up and sound check and that led us here, to the most disgusting motel I've ever been lucky enough to sleep in in my life. Seriously, I walked in and there were toe nails on the floor.

I met a girl my age today. She's kind of like me, except bubblier. We'll get along I'm sure, or, at least I hope we will, because I'm sharing a room with her tonight. And another girl, who I have absolutely no interest in becoming friends with due to the fact that she's here for one reason and one reason only: having Joe's children. She gushes about him on and on and it's got me desperate to get into another room. Someone's knocking. I'll be with you later. It might just be a savior.

I'm back, and how did I know that it was someone to save me from the evil and irritable monotonous voice of "future wife of Joe". I haven't learned her name, but she keeps trying to read this and she about to take a swift kick to the teeth. I'm serious. It's been about four hours since I last joined you, and a lot happened.

It was, ironically, Joe at the door, looking for a video game buddy. I, being the type to never refuse a good video game, was happy to accompany him for more reasons than one. The look on wannabe "Mrs. Trohman's" face was probably one of the most entertaining things I've ever seen. Well, not really, but I was the reason for the envy and that's enough to keep me smiling. Yeah, you've never met a bitch like me. Anyway, we got to the room and played some sweet Star wars video games, but soon after, I got distracted.

Patrick had joined us, and my head was absolutely buzzing from the intensity of the day. It was incredibly unusual to me to be sitting with fame that didn't act like fame at all. Joe reminded me of my older brother. Geek times 4 million. I don't know what got me here. Or there, since it was a few hours ago, but nonetheless, the whole night unfolded in the most unusual way.

"Shit, I'm tired. I'll see you guys bright and early." Joe walked us to the door and pushed us out, well, me mostly, but Patrick followed.

"I, on the other hand, am not. Would you like to walk around with me?" This was me talking to Patrick, not him to me. That would be pure luck. He looked at his watch then put his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, sure. It's cold outside, though."

"We'll stay inside then. We're at a hotel. It's not a big deal." He smiled and I led the way. We walked around silently for awhile mostly because I was thinking and had nothing to say. It just wasn't normal. Most bands see roadies as their bitches made especially for their bitch work, and these guys were not like that. They treated all of us with a ton of respect and were interested in who we were.

I hadn't really talked to anyone but the members of Fall Out Boy and Greta from The Hush Sound, but so far, this was completely weird. I decided, against my better judgment, or no judgment at all, to voice my thoughts.

"Why are you nice to me? Why is everyone here nice to me?" Patrick looked confused. Dude was weird about a lot of stuff. He could be the quietest guy ever but at dinner he was a riot. Seriously. I don't know of a funnier person quite yet, so this made him very much a mystery.

"Why shouldn't we be nice to you. I've heard stories about roadies being treated like shit. I've even seen it happen. It pisses me off. I don't want to be one of those guys in one of those bands. We're not any better than you. You do a hell of a lot more than us in a day."

I suppose his answer was satisfactory because I dropped it.

"Well, sounds good to me. Thank you."

"No problem. It's really no big deal. So, what do you do besides this?" I'm sure he was referring to road crew.

"Well, besides walking, I talk, I run, I dance, I sing, I'm an excellent water polo player..."

"C.J..." He was smiling.

"I work for an underground music magazine. And this is not really different from that, because I do this, I write about it in my tour diary, and they publish it, which leads to the paying of bills and eating of dinner. It's all connected." Really, most of the things that go on in my head should never come out of my mouth. It's just embarrassing.

"So this conversation is going to be available to anyone months from now?"

"No. I write everything, yes, but I edit. It takes more time then I just made it sound like. I write down things like this for memory. I don't want to forget, because apart from the times when I'm completely pissed, there are times that I love and never want to let go of. I'm disgustingly nostalgic sometimes. Sorry. You understand."

"It's fine. We all have days like that. I think it's cool that you write it all down. I'm totally not disciplined enough for that stuff. Pete spends hours on the computer when I hardly sit down at the computer for 15 minutes without needing to do something else."

"It's not that great. I write so much when I'm home that I don't have time for anything else. I hardly leave my apartment during the week. On the weekends, I shop for things that I used up in the process of never leaving my apartment during the week. There really isn't anything admirable about working so much you don't have a life."

"You're human, and you're really not that different from me in that sense. I'm gone 10 months out of the year sometimes. That leaves approximately 2 months for me, and really, what can you get done in two months?"

"I don't know. I have more time than that."

We walked a little longer and talked about favorites and wishes and other things you typically don't talk to an almost-stranger about. It was weird the way we clicked. He seemed sort of stand-offish originally, but by the end of our walk my opinion had changed to an extreme.

So here I am, dead tired, and still writing much more than I have since I got here. Patrick has decided these nightly talks are a great Idea, and I'm more than happy to supply him with someone to talk to. Tomorrow I get to hang out with Pete. He wants to eat lunch with me. I kind of want to eat lunch with him too. We'll see how it goes.
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