Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > A Chance Acquaintance
We were having a sort of mothers meeting.
Joe, Andy and I were sitting in the tour bus, around one of the small tables each with a drink in hand.
"I just can't seem to talk to him at the moment, I mean if this is about Amy then don't you think it's gone on long enough? It's getting unhealthy the amount of time he spends locked away writing or on the computer." Andy said taking a sip of his tea.
I nodded in agreement and saw Joe do the same. We'd had this discussion over and over though and it never seemed to accomplish anything.
"We think you should talk to him Trick." Joe said bluntly.
"Why me?" I asked glaring at them both. I never ended up being the mediator; I much preferred to be the quiet one who concentrated on the music and not the drama.
"Because you're his best friend, you know him best." Joe said pragmatically. Picking up his game boy he turned away. Andy got up and moved over to his bunk picking up a comic as he went, leaving me sitting at the table fuming.
Apparently the conversation was over.
X
"Pete dude come on." I said walking over to him.
He was sat down on an amp at the side of the stage notebook in hand; pen going backwards and forwards at high speed across the page. It was a pretty common sight to be fair, for the past few months I'd rarely seen Pete without a piece of paper in his hands.
He looked up briefly as I approached but carried on writing. He was wearing his usual combo of skinny jeans and a hoodie, his hair now tinged with streaks of red. We'd practically had to force him to make an effort though. He'd been really lethargic lately, wasn't really interested in anything except writing songs, he must have written 30 or 40 songs over the past 6 months. I was finding it hard to keep up with this new efficient song writing machine.
"I'm nearly done." He said as I took a seat by his side. Looking down at the notebook I saw that it was once again a song about fate; all of the songs he'd written seemed to involve destiny, love, chance and missed opportunities. They ranged from up beat to bitter and morbid, moving and tragic to heartfelt and sincere; he really had written some good stuff but even I was starting to get fed up of this new, deep version of my friend.
"No." I said firmly making him look at me in surprise. "Sound check is in 2 minutes you need to move now."
He sighed deeply but finally put the pen and notepad away. Getting up he stretched, reached for his bass which had been propped up against the amp and casually slung it over his shoulder.
"Okay I'm ready let's go." He said with no enthusiasm whatsoever. I followed him and walked over to the stage. Andy and Joe were already there, they looked at me pointedly and I shrugged giving them a look that implied Pete still hadn't perked up.
Although I was starting to get slightly pissed at Pete's constant state of lethargy, I was still worried about him. At first I, infact we all had thought that it was because of his break up with Amy. So for that first month or so we gave him a fairly wide berth, if he wanted to talk then that was fine but strangely he never did. I instead start getting bombarded by all of these songs about car parks and soul mates.
It wasn't just the lethargy though; it was the general change in him that was worrying. He was losing his energy in performances; he'd even messed up a few times which never happened usually. He was more spacey too, often drifting off into his own world mid conversation, and he'd become more of a loner choosing instead to go off on his own and write.
"Did you ask him?" Joe said quietly flicking his gaze over to Pete to make sure he couldn't hear.
"No..." I said sheepishly, "Not exactly."
"Trick man you said you would!" Joe replied exasperated.
"Hang on a minute I don't remember volunteering for the task" I said in protest, "It's just kind of difficult to say isn't it? Hey Pete here's the thing; you're being weird and we either want to know why or we want you to snap out of it."
"That sounds good to me." Joe said with a smirk.
I glared at him as he turned away and began fiddling with his guitar. It wasn't that easy, what if he was back in one of his depressions again? It wasn't like any depression I'd seen before but this might be a new way of dealing with some trauma I didn't know about.
Something I didn't know about, that kind of stung too if I'm honest. Not wanting to sound sappy but Pete's my best friend, we've been through a lot; the fact that he couldn't tell me something that was obviously bothering him was one of the reasons I was so reluctant to mention it.
I sighed to myself as I picked up my own guitar; things never used to be this complicated. I mean we were at one of the biggest festivals we'd ever played at and weren't even on top form. Leeds Festival is massive in the UK so we'd jumped at the chance to headline one of the many stages; this was before the whole morose Pete phase though obviously.
Strumming a random tune on my guitar I walked over to the edge of the stage and looked out. The place was huge, a wide expanse of green open space that fans could stand to watch the acts. Further up a small sloping hill I could see fast food joints clustered together just waiting to be attacked by hordes of excited music enthusiasts. Several other tents stood tall in the distance, I had been told that they were more stages for other smaller bands to play on and for comedy acts to perform on. Even further away I knew there were campsites which by tomorrow night would be full to the brim with tents of all shapes and sizes.
"We're definitely not in Chicago anymore are we?"
I turned to look at Pete with a smile; he had moved to stand by my side and was looking out over the festival grounds as I had been. His eyes were dark, his posture tense, but at least he was talking; that was a start.
"No," I said in agreement, "We're definitely far from home."
X
I'd woken up early for some reason, for the past hour or so I'd been sitting on the tour bus roof looking out at the long lines of traffic. It was amazing really that all these people were willing to queue for hours and hours just to watch their favourite bands. Pretty soon people would finish setting up their tents and start exploring, then the music would start and the festival would truly begin.
I turned suddenly as a squeak of shoes alerted me to someone's presence. Pete was standing on the roof, notebook in hand, pen shoved behind one ear regarding me with some confusion.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"Not a lot, just looking out at the true craziness of the English." I said with a smile.
He gave me a small smile in return and wandered over to sit by my side. He looked pale and a little fragile in the morning light. He had lost weight over the past months, his jeans no longer so tight fitting, his hoodie's now drowning him. The long fringe that flopped over one eye now seemed to be simply another thing to hide behind as opposed to the fashion statement it once was.
"Pete, you've got to talk to me dude." I said my voice laced with desperation.
"I know." He said with a sigh.
I looked at him in surprise, he knew? He obviously wasn't quite as out of it as we'd thought.
"Is this about Amy?" I asked cautiously.
He narrowed his eyes at me briefly before his face creased into a grin.
"Amy?" He snorted, "God I haven't thought about Amy for months, she hasn't even crossed my mind."
He was laughing now and I sat back totally mystified.
"I'm sorry, I'm totally lost now. If this hasn't been about Amy then what's been bugging you? What's been the source of all these songs?"
"I met someone in LA" He said quietly, looking down at his hands he continued.
"It was just after Amy broke up with me, we'd had this massive fight, and I was totally crushed. Then I met this woman, she was waiting in the car park for her friend to pick her up. She got me you know?"
He looked at me, his dark eyes alive, sparkling as he recalled this memory.
"She understood everything, it was like we had this connection and then I just let her slip away from me; I can't stop thinking about her." He said sadly, dropping his head into his hand he let out a groan of frustration.
I had to admit this was a turn up for the books. I think I knew deep down that it couldn't just be about a past break up but I've got to say I never expected it to be this; whatever this was. Lost love? Unrequited? But I guess all the songs make sense now.
"Have you tried looking for her?" I asked.
He looked up brushing his fringe out of his eyes. He shook his head, the look in his eyes bleak and empty.
"I don't know anything about her. I only got her name because her friend called out to her in the car park."
"You must have gotten something you can work with?" I said hoping we could figure this out. I mean the CIA can find just about anyone right? How hard could finding one girl be?
"She's British," He said, "And her names.....Ollie. Doesn't narrow it down much does it?" He said with a bitter laugh.
"No" I said admitting defeat, "I guess it doesn't."
We sat in silence for a while; my thoughts were whirling with all this new information. So Pete had spent the past few months kicking himself because he let a girl slip through his fingers; as I said before it definitely wasn't what I expected.
"At least we're in the right country" I added randomly as the thought popped in to my head.
Pete turned to look at me; tilting his head he regarded me with a look of disbelief.
"Dude...this place is huge..." he trailed off shaking his head. I thought I might of offended him for a minute but he started to laugh his shoulders shaking. I laughed with him glad to have Pete back if only for a moment, he turned to me still grinning and patted me on the arm.
"Thanks man," he said whilst getting up, "I feel a lot better."
Standing up he brushed himself off and disappeared down the hatch in the bus roof. I sat on the roof a little longer watching the stream of traffic and hoping to God that this festival would go ok. Not only did we have 2 performances but we also had signing booths and meet and greets.
"It'll be fine," I said aloud, "It'll be just fine."
Saying it out loud didn't exactly make me feel any better and although I wanted to believe what I was saying I couldn't help but think that something was going to happen; good or bad I wasn't sure. I just hoped the band would make it out in one piece.
Joe, Andy and I were sitting in the tour bus, around one of the small tables each with a drink in hand.
"I just can't seem to talk to him at the moment, I mean if this is about Amy then don't you think it's gone on long enough? It's getting unhealthy the amount of time he spends locked away writing or on the computer." Andy said taking a sip of his tea.
I nodded in agreement and saw Joe do the same. We'd had this discussion over and over though and it never seemed to accomplish anything.
"We think you should talk to him Trick." Joe said bluntly.
"Why me?" I asked glaring at them both. I never ended up being the mediator; I much preferred to be the quiet one who concentrated on the music and not the drama.
"Because you're his best friend, you know him best." Joe said pragmatically. Picking up his game boy he turned away. Andy got up and moved over to his bunk picking up a comic as he went, leaving me sitting at the table fuming.
Apparently the conversation was over.
X
"Pete dude come on." I said walking over to him.
He was sat down on an amp at the side of the stage notebook in hand; pen going backwards and forwards at high speed across the page. It was a pretty common sight to be fair, for the past few months I'd rarely seen Pete without a piece of paper in his hands.
He looked up briefly as I approached but carried on writing. He was wearing his usual combo of skinny jeans and a hoodie, his hair now tinged with streaks of red. We'd practically had to force him to make an effort though. He'd been really lethargic lately, wasn't really interested in anything except writing songs, he must have written 30 or 40 songs over the past 6 months. I was finding it hard to keep up with this new efficient song writing machine.
"I'm nearly done." He said as I took a seat by his side. Looking down at the notebook I saw that it was once again a song about fate; all of the songs he'd written seemed to involve destiny, love, chance and missed opportunities. They ranged from up beat to bitter and morbid, moving and tragic to heartfelt and sincere; he really had written some good stuff but even I was starting to get fed up of this new, deep version of my friend.
"No." I said firmly making him look at me in surprise. "Sound check is in 2 minutes you need to move now."
He sighed deeply but finally put the pen and notepad away. Getting up he stretched, reached for his bass which had been propped up against the amp and casually slung it over his shoulder.
"Okay I'm ready let's go." He said with no enthusiasm whatsoever. I followed him and walked over to the stage. Andy and Joe were already there, they looked at me pointedly and I shrugged giving them a look that implied Pete still hadn't perked up.
Although I was starting to get slightly pissed at Pete's constant state of lethargy, I was still worried about him. At first I, infact we all had thought that it was because of his break up with Amy. So for that first month or so we gave him a fairly wide berth, if he wanted to talk then that was fine but strangely he never did. I instead start getting bombarded by all of these songs about car parks and soul mates.
It wasn't just the lethargy though; it was the general change in him that was worrying. He was losing his energy in performances; he'd even messed up a few times which never happened usually. He was more spacey too, often drifting off into his own world mid conversation, and he'd become more of a loner choosing instead to go off on his own and write.
"Did you ask him?" Joe said quietly flicking his gaze over to Pete to make sure he couldn't hear.
"No..." I said sheepishly, "Not exactly."
"Trick man you said you would!" Joe replied exasperated.
"Hang on a minute I don't remember volunteering for the task" I said in protest, "It's just kind of difficult to say isn't it? Hey Pete here's the thing; you're being weird and we either want to know why or we want you to snap out of it."
"That sounds good to me." Joe said with a smirk.
I glared at him as he turned away and began fiddling with his guitar. It wasn't that easy, what if he was back in one of his depressions again? It wasn't like any depression I'd seen before but this might be a new way of dealing with some trauma I didn't know about.
Something I didn't know about, that kind of stung too if I'm honest. Not wanting to sound sappy but Pete's my best friend, we've been through a lot; the fact that he couldn't tell me something that was obviously bothering him was one of the reasons I was so reluctant to mention it.
I sighed to myself as I picked up my own guitar; things never used to be this complicated. I mean we were at one of the biggest festivals we'd ever played at and weren't even on top form. Leeds Festival is massive in the UK so we'd jumped at the chance to headline one of the many stages; this was before the whole morose Pete phase though obviously.
Strumming a random tune on my guitar I walked over to the edge of the stage and looked out. The place was huge, a wide expanse of green open space that fans could stand to watch the acts. Further up a small sloping hill I could see fast food joints clustered together just waiting to be attacked by hordes of excited music enthusiasts. Several other tents stood tall in the distance, I had been told that they were more stages for other smaller bands to play on and for comedy acts to perform on. Even further away I knew there were campsites which by tomorrow night would be full to the brim with tents of all shapes and sizes.
"We're definitely not in Chicago anymore are we?"
I turned to look at Pete with a smile; he had moved to stand by my side and was looking out over the festival grounds as I had been. His eyes were dark, his posture tense, but at least he was talking; that was a start.
"No," I said in agreement, "We're definitely far from home."
X
I'd woken up early for some reason, for the past hour or so I'd been sitting on the tour bus roof looking out at the long lines of traffic. It was amazing really that all these people were willing to queue for hours and hours just to watch their favourite bands. Pretty soon people would finish setting up their tents and start exploring, then the music would start and the festival would truly begin.
I turned suddenly as a squeak of shoes alerted me to someone's presence. Pete was standing on the roof, notebook in hand, pen shoved behind one ear regarding me with some confusion.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"Not a lot, just looking out at the true craziness of the English." I said with a smile.
He gave me a small smile in return and wandered over to sit by my side. He looked pale and a little fragile in the morning light. He had lost weight over the past months, his jeans no longer so tight fitting, his hoodie's now drowning him. The long fringe that flopped over one eye now seemed to be simply another thing to hide behind as opposed to the fashion statement it once was.
"Pete, you've got to talk to me dude." I said my voice laced with desperation.
"I know." He said with a sigh.
I looked at him in surprise, he knew? He obviously wasn't quite as out of it as we'd thought.
"Is this about Amy?" I asked cautiously.
He narrowed his eyes at me briefly before his face creased into a grin.
"Amy?" He snorted, "God I haven't thought about Amy for months, she hasn't even crossed my mind."
He was laughing now and I sat back totally mystified.
"I'm sorry, I'm totally lost now. If this hasn't been about Amy then what's been bugging you? What's been the source of all these songs?"
"I met someone in LA" He said quietly, looking down at his hands he continued.
"It was just after Amy broke up with me, we'd had this massive fight, and I was totally crushed. Then I met this woman, she was waiting in the car park for her friend to pick her up. She got me you know?"
He looked at me, his dark eyes alive, sparkling as he recalled this memory.
"She understood everything, it was like we had this connection and then I just let her slip away from me; I can't stop thinking about her." He said sadly, dropping his head into his hand he let out a groan of frustration.
I had to admit this was a turn up for the books. I think I knew deep down that it couldn't just be about a past break up but I've got to say I never expected it to be this; whatever this was. Lost love? Unrequited? But I guess all the songs make sense now.
"Have you tried looking for her?" I asked.
He looked up brushing his fringe out of his eyes. He shook his head, the look in his eyes bleak and empty.
"I don't know anything about her. I only got her name because her friend called out to her in the car park."
"You must have gotten something you can work with?" I said hoping we could figure this out. I mean the CIA can find just about anyone right? How hard could finding one girl be?
"She's British," He said, "And her names.....Ollie. Doesn't narrow it down much does it?" He said with a bitter laugh.
"No" I said admitting defeat, "I guess it doesn't."
We sat in silence for a while; my thoughts were whirling with all this new information. So Pete had spent the past few months kicking himself because he let a girl slip through his fingers; as I said before it definitely wasn't what I expected.
"At least we're in the right country" I added randomly as the thought popped in to my head.
Pete turned to look at me; tilting his head he regarded me with a look of disbelief.
"Dude...this place is huge..." he trailed off shaking his head. I thought I might of offended him for a minute but he started to laugh his shoulders shaking. I laughed with him glad to have Pete back if only for a moment, he turned to me still grinning and patted me on the arm.
"Thanks man," he said whilst getting up, "I feel a lot better."
Standing up he brushed himself off and disappeared down the hatch in the bus roof. I sat on the roof a little longer watching the stream of traffic and hoping to God that this festival would go ok. Not only did we have 2 performances but we also had signing booths and meet and greets.
"It'll be fine," I said aloud, "It'll be just fine."
Saying it out loud didn't exactly make me feel any better and although I wanted to believe what I was saying I couldn't help but think that something was going to happen; good or bad I wasn't sure. I just hoped the band would make it out in one piece.
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