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

Chapter 9.

by howshesews 0 reviews

yeah, right.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Humor, Romance - Published: 2006-09-23 - Updated: 2006-09-24 - 1649 words

Friday was the last time I joined you. Today is Sunday, and once again, I've been unreasonably busy. New York is never lacking in things to do, and Pete was adamant that I show him my way to have fun in New York City. I laughed. The only thing I do in New York, while I'm there, is work, or go shopping, or go to this neat little coffee/pastry shop called "Muy Caliente" off of Avenue B. So, being the incredible tour guide I am, those are the places we went.

"You seriously don't do anything while you're here? You live in the greatest city in America and you stay in this apartment all day?" I snorted. It was embarrassing. Pete picked up on my embarrassment, and decided to laugh at me.

"Fuck you. What if I told you that I thought the greatest city in America was Chicago?"

"I'd say you were fucking crazy."

"It's simply a difference in opinion, then. I've grown up here, and I think this smog infested shithole should sink. You lived in Chicago, and your opinion of it isn't all that great either."

"Don't get me wrong. I love Chicago, but I don't know how it compares to New York."

"It looks amazing. Trust me. Ready for coffee?"

"No. Show me around your apartment."

"Pete, I'm not a bajillionaire. There really isn't a lot to show you."

"I want to see what kind of life you lived before this. I want to know what your life was like before we were thrown into it."

"It's not like I'm going to pa-"

"Just shut the hell up, and show me."

"Whatever." I did as I was told. It's not a small apartment, but that's because it's older. I had a lot of work done to it, so I'm not complaining. My dad sends me a check every month allowing me to have quite a bit of money tucked away, making my apartment something I'm very proud of.

"You're so cool. Patrick is lucky." That set me off.

"You're fucking crazy! Nothing is going on between Patrick and I. Nothing will be going on between Patrick and I. Get it? We're friends. We haven't even known each other that long, yet everyone assumes we're getting married sometime next week. Get off it. We're friends. We don't know each other that well, so how could we possibly have the foundation for a relationship?" Pete looked a little surprised, but then, he smiled.

"You've got it all wrong. But you'll see. You're a smart girl. I know you'll see."

"Drop it Wentz, or you're a dead man."

"Then you'd be a dead woman. Do you know how many crazy 16-year-old girls would be after your ass after you killed Pete Wentz? Seriously. Think it through." I laughed, and we headed over to the coffee shop.

"Trust me. This place makes Starbucks look like shit." We both ordered and took a seat in the corner.

"What's this thing called again?" I had ordered for him.

"It's an almond mocha. I promise it's not too sweet. Just take a drink." He did, and his expression was unreadable.

"If you don't love it, give it to me." He smiled.

"It's incredible. How did you find this place?"

"I can see it from my living room window."

"Shut up."

"Don't ask stupid questions. What are you doing for the rest of the day?" He sat his cup down and folded his hands on the table.

"I think Andy wanted to do some shopping on Times Square. And there's some magazine that wanted to talk to me. I thought I'd bring Andy along."

"What magazine?" I asked as I took a sip of my mocha.

"Play Radio, Play."

"What the hell? That's the magazine I work for. They know I'm doing this. Why do they need you there?"

"Thanks, Ceej."

"No, I mean...ugh. You know what I mean. I think they replaced me. This is what happens when they replace people. Shit happens and you find out about it through something else. I bet they've replaced me."

"They told me to have you call them. They wanted some tidbits of the journal early." I immediately calmed down, and looked at him for a second. He started laughing.

"Thanks a lot, prick."

"You didn't let me finish. And your phones ringing." I looked down at my phone and saw Patrick's name on the screen.


"Hey, Caroline, what are you doing right now?"

"Drinking post-homicide coffee with Pete."

"Are you guys going to kill someone?"

"No. I'm going to kill Pete." Pete flipped me off.

"Why? Wait. Don't tell me. I'm sure he was just being...Pete. Do you want to go to dinner?"


"There's a vegan restaurant Andy found. The Life Café or some-"

"YES! What time?"

"Caroline. Just come back to the hotel. We'll go from there."

"Oh. Okay. Bye."

"Bye, weirdo." Pete looked at me, arms crossed, eyes questioning.



"No, jerk. Don't ask questions."

"Alright. Are you ready?"

"Whenever you are." He got up and we walked out, as Pete hailed a cab, I got really dizzy, and weird. Ten seconds later, I was throwing up on the sidewalk behind us.

"No dinner tonight." Pete said as he held my hair out of my face.

"No. No dinner tonight." I felt defeated as he put his arm around me on the cab ride back to the hotel.

As I walked up the stairs I got sick again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, threw up in the stairwell of the hotel. I'm sure they were thrilled. Pete got me up to my room, and tucked me in.

"I'll go get Patrick."

"Thanks for everything, Pete." He kissed my forehead (weird) and left.

"Caroline, what are you sick for?" Patrick walked into the room, plopped down stomach first on the bed, and held is head in his hands.

"Because I'm doing everything I can not to go to dinner with the best friend I have here, that's why." He laughed and felt my forehead.

"No fever. What's going on with you?" He looked concerned.

"It's probably just a stomach bug. This happens to me sometimes. Could you do me a favor?"

"Anything. You're pathetic." He laughed at himself. I did not.

"Shut up. I left my laptop on the bus. Will you go get it?"

"In a little bit. Are you hungry at all?" I shook my head no and he nodded.

"Alright. Well, I'm going to go get some food for me, run and get your laptop, and order some movies to the room okay?" I nodded and put a pillow over my head.

"No porn." I yelled after him. He laughed and shut the door. What the hell was going on? I was supposed to have a fun evening in the city with Patrick. Why couldn't this sickness shit just leave me alone. A few minutes later, I heard a knock at my door. I opened it to see Joe, and his X-Box.

"Joe, what are you doing? I'm sick." He stuck out his bottom lip, and then smiled.

"I just wanted you to hand my ass back to me with a little Lego Star Wars. You up to it?" I smiled. When was I not up to having the upper hand? I laughed and stepped aside, letting him, and Andy in the door. Andy pinched my cheek and smiled.

"There is just always something going on with you." I laughed and then put my head under my covers.

"Fuck you. Guys, I have a serious question. Where are the other roadies? Why is Dirty letting me neglect my work?" They both stopped what they were doing and looked at me. Joe spoke.

"Dirty likes you, C.J. He's usually cool with the roadies he respects. Plus, you're a manager. You're going to get a lot of privileges that other kids here don't have. On top of all of that, you're friends with us, well, Pete, and a friend of Pete's is a friend of Dirty's." Andy added to what Joe said.

"And, you're miserably ill, so don't worry about all of that." I smiled and thanked them, and tried my best to kill Joe with some Lego Star Wars. It didn't happen.

"I blame my current state of health." Joe scoffed.

"I blame how lame you constantly are with your hand-eye coordination." I just glared at him, and laid back down, not having the energy to fight.

"Alright, Kid." Joe stood up and stretched. Him and Andy had been there a little over an hour. "We're going. Get to feeling better."

"Alright guys. Thanks for the ass-whooping, Joe."

"Hey, I can whoop your ass, anytime. It's really not a problem." I smiled sarcastically and he and Andy left. A few minutes later, Patrick walked in, carrying a bag of food, and my laptop.

"Thank you, you're incredible." He set his bag down.

"Why are we friends?" I laughed.

"No. I'm serious. I was thinking about it on the cab ride back. Why are we friends? How did this happen. And why are we pretending That nothing else is?" I think he hadn't planned on saying that, because after he said it, he tried quickly to redeem himself.

"Never mind. Forget I said anything." I let it go. I didn't feel like playing the love game with anyone. We didn't really talk anymore after that. He ordered a movie, and I fell asleep. Now, he's in the bed next to me, passed out, and I'm here, typing this, trying to figure out what's going on. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep now. Be with you all later.

Hey. I'm trying really hard to make the chapters longer. this story isn't even close to being over. don't forget about me just yet. more to come.
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