FicWad

Emily awoke safe and dry in Pete's arms. Patrick was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at Emily like an alien. She smiled at him brightly.
"When did you come back?" he inquired.
"Early this morning..."
Patrick glanced at Pete, who wasn't wearing a shirt. He looked uncomfortable.
"Did you guys...um...did you..."
"Yes, Patrick, we did it with you in the next bed." Emily said sarcastically.
Patrick laughed weakly, looking relieved. Then Pete stirred and sat up.
"'Morning." he smiled, kissing Emily's cheek. The three of them all crawled out of bed and wandered into the living room, where Andy and Joe sat. They both looked shocked to see Emily. Joe sighed as the three others sat down on the couch, squishing him and Andy.
"You came back."
"Don't I always?"
"That's the thing, Em, you-" he was cut off by glares from Pete. He simply shook his head and the five friends sat there in silence, squished together, uncomfortable as hell.

That night, it began to rain again. Hard. The coldness of the falling drops made the poorly heated apartment chilly, and Emily felt uneasy. It was like there was an accident waiting to happen, just around the corner. Patrick and Joe both had their acoustic guitars out, and they were absently playing campfire songs and simple little things. Practice, Emily assumed. There was something in the air- tension. Andy was lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling dreamily. Emily watched the pathetic scene from Pete's lap, where he was gently kissing her neck, but she wasn't responding. Something wasn't right. She finally crawled off Pete's lap and lay down next to Andy. They didn't speak for several minutes, and then she rolled over, propping herself up on her elbow, looking at him.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing in particular. But there's a fairly big spider in that corner." he said, pointing vaguely. Emily smiled.
"Then what's the point of laying here?"
"I dunno. I'm bored. There's nothing to do but think."
Emily frowned.
"There's lots to do. You could socialize at bit, you know."
"Sometimes, Emily, it's nice to be alone and think."
They were silent a few more minutes.
"What are you thinking about, Andy?" Emily asked quietly, breaking the silence.
Andy hesitated, and then turned to face her.
"You."
"What about me?"
"I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Of the future."
Emily had heard enough. She stood up, shaking her head, and went back to Pete's lap. No one spoke, and the only sound was the absent and vague strings and chords coming from Joe and Patrick's guitars. Then, suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Patrick stood up and answered it; it was Evie. Emily's heart sank.
"Evie!" he smiled, kissing her.
The group greeted her, all except Emily, who glared instead. Patrick led her back to the couch, and a conversation between her, Patrick, Joe and Pete started. Andy continued to stare at the ceiling, and Emily continued to glare at Evie. She watched as his hands snaked around her wait, pulling her closer to him. Her hands played seductively with his hair. Every word they exchanged was flirtatious. And it made Emily sick. Patrick had hardly even hugged her since her birthday It was like she was replacing Emily. Suddenly, Evie was tugging at Patrick's shirt collar, and he glanced towards Pete and Patrick's bedroom. Oh, no you don't/. Emily thought viciously, /Not in my room. She abruptly stood up, startling Pete and the others. All of a sudden, all the anger and hurt that had been boiling up in her since they left Chicago was bursting at the seems. Tears were escaping from her eyes. Her voice was upset and loud.
"That's it!" she cried hysterically, "I can't do this anymore!"
"Can't do what?" Evie asked, looking annoyed, "Watch Patrick and me? Are you jealous, or something? I thought you were with Pete."
"You bitch!" Emily cried.
Evie stopped tugging at Patrick's collar. She stood up, and crossed the room to where Emily stood.
"You are a selfish whore who wants all of these guys to yourself. You have Pete; isn't one enough? " she hissed, her voice dangerous.
"I don't want them all to myself All I know is you are so not the girl for Patrick!" Emily shouted.
Evie's eyes flicked with flames. And, in one swift motion, she reached over and slapped Emily clean across the face.
"That was a long time coming." she snapped.
"Evie!" Patrick cried, standing up.
"Emily!" Pete added, standing up as well. Each boy rushed to their girlfriend, pulling them away before a real fight started. But Evie wrenched her arms away, reaching for her purse.
"You know what, Patrick? I can't do this anymore. Call me when your best friend grows up a little bit!" and she rushed to the door.
"Evie, no, wait-" Patrick called weakly, following her.
"Leave me alone!" she snapped, slamming the door behind her.
Andy was on his feet now, Joe, too. Pete was yelling at Emily, but she couldn't hear him. All she could do was watch in horror as Patrick slowly turned around, tears in his eyes. He looked Emily dead in the eye.
"I loved her, Emily," he began, quietly, "This is all your fault!" he screamed.
"Patrick, she wasn't right for you You know what? NONE of this is right!" Emily yelled back, "You guys shouldn't be here!"
"We're making a record!" yelled Joe.
"This is the break we've been waiting for, Emily, I thought you understood that!" added Andy angrily.
"I don't care about the record! You guys don't need to be living in this dump! Away from me! Friends forever, remember? These friends are golden!" she flew across the room in a storm of tears, and grabbed the silver frame off the coffee table. She waved it in Patrick's face.
"This is what it's supposed to be like! We never used to fight all the time, we were happy, carefree! That was us. This is not!"
Patrick snatched the frame out of her hands, and with all his might, he pitched it at the ground. The heart-wrenching sound of breaking glass filled the room.
"Fuck you, Emily!" he yelled.
Emily backed away, swallowing hard. She turned to Pete.
"You did this to yourself, Emily." he said, his voice shaking.
In a whirlwind of anger, Emily ran into Pete and Patrick's bedroom, followed by Pete. She wrenched open her suitcase and began flinging clothes inside of it.
"What the hell are you doing?!" he cried.
"I can't do this anymore, Peter! I can't stand by and watch you four ruin your lives!"
"Wasn't it you who always told us that we'd be famous some day?!"
"Yeah, well, I was wrong! You guys would be better off to get jobs, real jobs!"
"Fucking hell, Emily, you just can't make up your mind, can you?!"
"Yes, I can! And I'm going back to Chicago!"
"EMILY. We're all you have, don't you get that?! You have nothing in Chicago!"
"Bullshit, Peter! I have a family and friends and /school/!"
"You have a nosy mother, ONE friend and not even a scholarship!"
Emily spun around and brought down her hand across Pete's cheek.
"I sure as hell rather be there with them, than here with you!"
Emily continued throwing things into her suitcase, muttering angrily under her breath. Pete sighed sadly; he couldn't yell at her anymore. It wasn't helping.
"Emily," he began soothingly, "Look, I love you, and-"
"Boys like you are overrated, Peter Wentz, so save your breath!" she yelled.
Pete's anger flared up once again.
"You know what, Emily? I believed everything you said, about friends forever, and all that shit!"
Emily turned to face him, tears glistening.
"It wasn't supposed to end like this." she whispered.
"It wasn't supposed to end at /all/, Emily!"
"Yeah? Well, I'm sorry! Sorry for everything! And you should be, too!"
"You want apologies! Girl, you might hold your breath until your breathing stops forever!" Pete spat, "The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips; I hope they taste of me /forever/!"
"God, I hate you!" she yelled, slamming her suitcase shut. She stormed out of the bedroom, followed once again by Pete, and she left the apartment. Pete felt a whirlwind of emotions; anger, sadness, relief...the list went on. He choked back tears and ran back to his bedroom. He was reaching for his notebook, when he heard the all too familiar sound of pebbles on his window. He got up from his desk and ran to the window; Emily stood outside in the pouring rain.
"I love you, Peter Wentz, and don't you ever forget it!" she screamed, and then she was gone. Peter cried out in frustration as he closed the window and ran back to his desk. And he began to write;

My heart is on my sleeve
Wear it like a bruise or black eye
My badge, my witness
That means that I believed
Every single lie you said (and learned from the best)

cause every pane of glass that your pebbles tapped 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

She took me down and said:
"Boy's like you are overrated. So save your breath."
Loaded words and loaded friends
are loaded guns to our heads

You want apologies ,Girl, you might hold your breath until your breathing stops forever
The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips: I hope they taste of me forever

With every breath I wish your body will be broken again

Then he reached into his closet and pulled out the fat stack of unfinished lyrics he'd been working on, and he began feverishly adding things here and there, Emily on his mind, completing the songs. He wrote all night, until he finally fell asleep at his desk.

The next morning, Pete awoke and lifted his head off the pages of his notebook. He groggily padded into the livingroom, where Joe, Patrick and Andy all sat on the couch, staring absently at the broken glass that covered the carpet. They looked up at him dully.
"She's really gone this time." Joe whispered, glassy eyed.
Pete said nothing. The four of them simply stared at each other. Then, Pete wordlessly turned away and returned minutes later with the stack of songs. He handed them to Patrick.
"Add some music." he said simply.
Patrick flipped through the stack, and looked up at Pete.
"That makes eleven songs we have for the record."
"We have enough money to record one more." Andy said.
Pete nodded.
"I've got an idea."