Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > The Bass Files
Opium for the masses (- Not that Morpheus guy again!)
9 reviewsLove me or hate me for it, the time is ripe for Peter Wentz´s entry. However, his "yummy" upper body will remain covered... *thinks it over* at least in this chapter.
2Funny
14. Opium for the masses (- Not that Morpheus guy again!)
A week had passed since Halloween and my unfruitful move on Andy. I had survived one band practice on Friday.
Nothing terrible had happened there but it had certainly been awkward. We had played through some songs, Joe and Patrick had cracked jokes and Joe and Patrick had laughed at their jokes. Andy and I had remained pretty much quiet throughout the whole thing. I hadn´t even dared to look him straight in the eyes.
How I had managed to drag myself to the practice - I really can´t say. I´m guessing it was the logial consequence of trying to give Andy the impression that his rejection didn´t mean the end of the world to me, loving Patrick´s musical arrangements and playing with the guys. And me being a masochist.
Once in my lifetime I decided to speak up and go for what I want and the result was utter exposure and an uneasy feeling plus obvious tension during band practice. The no-chicks-in-the-band rule made perfect sense now. You know something´s seriously wrong when Joe Trohman outwits you.
Every now and then our two guitarists would cast a suspicious look at Andy or me but they never asked what was going on. My guess was that Patrick was either too sensitive to even ask or still busy trying to find sympathetic words he could form into a question to find out what had happened. As for Joe, he was probably busy wrecking his brain over a caustic line which he would drop when I least expected it.
In the following week we met again to practice and things were similar to Friday. To me it was obvious that Andy still hadn´t told his friends about my humiliation. If so, Joe wouldn´t have hesitated to point out his sexist band rule and given me a look of triumph. I wasn´t sure if I would have preferred them to know. Yet, I couldn't help thinking that they would have probably cut out the cheeriness and sunshine-lollipop attitude and recognized life for what it was: A waste of time, effort and feelings.
You´re thinking I´m exaggerating? That I´m blowing what happened out of all proportions? Well, let me remind you that I haven´t had physical contact with a man in more than half a year and then tell me to stop overacting. I´m glad I haven´t tried banging my bass guitar yet, that´s how desperate I am. Now, don´t go shaking your head. It´s not just about the sex. I liked Andy. I really did. He was smart and funny, more than average looking. Sharp dresser too.
"Sheena? Hellooooo?" Joe´s words pulled me out of my wallowing in self-pity into the reality of his living room.
I gave him a confused look, "What´s that?"
"Patrick just asked you what you thought of backing up the rhythm of the drums rather than playing along with the line of his guitar?"
I glanced at Patrick who was expecting an answer to his question.
I grimaced, "Frankly, I rather prefer it this way. I think it adds a different layer to your playing."
He shrugged, "Thing is, I´m kinda sensing that the bass is perhaps a little lost there. You´re ´fighting´ against two guitars, so to speak, and usually the drums are a great support for the ba-"
I interrupted him, "What you´re saying is that the bass is drowned out unless it pairs up with the drum set, eh?" Fixating my stare on Patrick, I felt the anger that was pounding against my stomach to get out.
He was visibly intimidated when answering, "Well, I surely wouldn´t have put it that way." The guy looked at Joe and then at Andy, begging for help.
"The bass is a crucial element of the band. And it´s clearly audible in this song. It´s got its own function and its own fortés. I don´t need no silly bass and snare drums or highhats to be heard." I was in a rage. I was taking a firm stand on my rights in this musical collaboration between the men and me. I was speaking out for all the belittled down-trodden bassists in the world.
Of course, that´s bullshit. I was totally losing it, making a complete fool of myself in front of someone who I´d so much wanted to like me more than just as a friend.
Andy was just staring at me. I wished I would die when I saw the pity in his eyes.
"That´s not what I intended to imply at all," Patrick said in a soothing voice.
I just rolled my eyes. Once you´ve crossed the line between temporary mental incapacity and sheer bitchiness it´s hard to go back.
"Ok, ok," Joe spoke up, "What´s going on here? What did I miss?" He shot an expectant glare at me, then at Andy and back at me.
"I´m just trying to make a point about equality!" I semi-screamed at him.
"FUCK-ing simmer down! Don´t yell at me," Joe told me off.
"I´m not fucking yelling," I yelled back.
Patrick lifted a finger shyly, "Ah, I believe you are..."
Everyone was quiet for about a minute. Then Andy raised from his seat behind the drums and walked a few steps towards us. "Let me talk to Sheena in privacy for a second, guys."
I shook my head.
Joe and Patrick looked me over with inquiring eyes.
I was calming down, trying hard to think of a way to blame my verbal rampage on temporary mental incapacity. "I don´t wanna talk to you," I nodded at Andy. "I just wanna go on playing. We can do what you suggested Patrick. I´m sorry I freaked out. I´m just having a rough time... at school." I glanced at Andy. His countenance remained unchanged.
You could tell neither of our guitarists believed what I was saying but for now, they let it slip.
_ _ _ _ _
One day after the bitchiness fiasco Patrick unexpectedly turned up at my door step.
"Do you wanna talk about yesterday?"
Did I? No.
I still asked him to come inside.
He started a conversation about a few songs he was busy writing at the moment and then he gently directed our talk towards the incident that I wanted to avoid the most. In the end he had me spilling my guts to him. It was hard not to confide in Patrick, given the fact that he was not only a good listener but also in a similar situation concerning Joyce.
"I´m sorry Andy doesn´t feel the same for you," he said softly when I had finished the damage report on my heart. Since I didn´t know what to say next he told me about a couple of times that Joyce had made his heart ache, mostly unintentionally but still.
Before he left my apartment about two hours later he invited me to come to a local show with him on Saturday. His cousin was in the band that was playing and it would probably take my mind off the letdown with Andy.
"Alright," I agreed, figuring anything would be better than spending the weekend alone by myself with no distraction, "I´ll pick you up at 7 then."
_ _ _ _ _
As soon as Patrick and I had entered the smoky dimly-lit bar I spotted HIM.
He took my breath away and I´m doubting I´ll be able to describe every little detail about him in such a way as to do justice to his drop-dead gorgeous air. Since this is my story, however, I´d like to see you try and stop me.
He was dressed in red and black, the red lines curling into snaky flames on the black background. When I entered the room he was bouncing up and down on the stage. I couldn´t take my eyes off his body, sleek and formed to fulfill my every wish. His voice, deep and melodic, reverberated through the bar, making me feel every note like a vibration in my chest.
All I thought about was how to make him mine, how to feel his toned body in my hands. Andy, who? I had fallen in love again and this time, I would not take "no" for an answer.
A week had passed since Halloween and my unfruitful move on Andy. I had survived one band practice on Friday.
Nothing terrible had happened there but it had certainly been awkward. We had played through some songs, Joe and Patrick had cracked jokes and Joe and Patrick had laughed at their jokes. Andy and I had remained pretty much quiet throughout the whole thing. I hadn´t even dared to look him straight in the eyes.
How I had managed to drag myself to the practice - I really can´t say. I´m guessing it was the logial consequence of trying to give Andy the impression that his rejection didn´t mean the end of the world to me, loving Patrick´s musical arrangements and playing with the guys. And me being a masochist.
Once in my lifetime I decided to speak up and go for what I want and the result was utter exposure and an uneasy feeling plus obvious tension during band practice. The no-chicks-in-the-band rule made perfect sense now. You know something´s seriously wrong when Joe Trohman outwits you.
Every now and then our two guitarists would cast a suspicious look at Andy or me but they never asked what was going on. My guess was that Patrick was either too sensitive to even ask or still busy trying to find sympathetic words he could form into a question to find out what had happened. As for Joe, he was probably busy wrecking his brain over a caustic line which he would drop when I least expected it.
In the following week we met again to practice and things were similar to Friday. To me it was obvious that Andy still hadn´t told his friends about my humiliation. If so, Joe wouldn´t have hesitated to point out his sexist band rule and given me a look of triumph. I wasn´t sure if I would have preferred them to know. Yet, I couldn't help thinking that they would have probably cut out the cheeriness and sunshine-lollipop attitude and recognized life for what it was: A waste of time, effort and feelings.
You´re thinking I´m exaggerating? That I´m blowing what happened out of all proportions? Well, let me remind you that I haven´t had physical contact with a man in more than half a year and then tell me to stop overacting. I´m glad I haven´t tried banging my bass guitar yet, that´s how desperate I am. Now, don´t go shaking your head. It´s not just about the sex. I liked Andy. I really did. He was smart and funny, more than average looking. Sharp dresser too.
"Sheena? Hellooooo?" Joe´s words pulled me out of my wallowing in self-pity into the reality of his living room.
I gave him a confused look, "What´s that?"
"Patrick just asked you what you thought of backing up the rhythm of the drums rather than playing along with the line of his guitar?"
I glanced at Patrick who was expecting an answer to his question.
I grimaced, "Frankly, I rather prefer it this way. I think it adds a different layer to your playing."
He shrugged, "Thing is, I´m kinda sensing that the bass is perhaps a little lost there. You´re ´fighting´ against two guitars, so to speak, and usually the drums are a great support for the ba-"
I interrupted him, "What you´re saying is that the bass is drowned out unless it pairs up with the drum set, eh?" Fixating my stare on Patrick, I felt the anger that was pounding against my stomach to get out.
He was visibly intimidated when answering, "Well, I surely wouldn´t have put it that way." The guy looked at Joe and then at Andy, begging for help.
"The bass is a crucial element of the band. And it´s clearly audible in this song. It´s got its own function and its own fortés. I don´t need no silly bass and snare drums or highhats to be heard." I was in a rage. I was taking a firm stand on my rights in this musical collaboration between the men and me. I was speaking out for all the belittled down-trodden bassists in the world.
Of course, that´s bullshit. I was totally losing it, making a complete fool of myself in front of someone who I´d so much wanted to like me more than just as a friend.
Andy was just staring at me. I wished I would die when I saw the pity in his eyes.
"That´s not what I intended to imply at all," Patrick said in a soothing voice.
I just rolled my eyes. Once you´ve crossed the line between temporary mental incapacity and sheer bitchiness it´s hard to go back.
"Ok, ok," Joe spoke up, "What´s going on here? What did I miss?" He shot an expectant glare at me, then at Andy and back at me.
"I´m just trying to make a point about equality!" I semi-screamed at him.
"FUCK-ing simmer down! Don´t yell at me," Joe told me off.
"I´m not fucking yelling," I yelled back.
Patrick lifted a finger shyly, "Ah, I believe you are..."
Everyone was quiet for about a minute. Then Andy raised from his seat behind the drums and walked a few steps towards us. "Let me talk to Sheena in privacy for a second, guys."
I shook my head.
Joe and Patrick looked me over with inquiring eyes.
I was calming down, trying hard to think of a way to blame my verbal rampage on temporary mental incapacity. "I don´t wanna talk to you," I nodded at Andy. "I just wanna go on playing. We can do what you suggested Patrick. I´m sorry I freaked out. I´m just having a rough time... at school." I glanced at Andy. His countenance remained unchanged.
You could tell neither of our guitarists believed what I was saying but for now, they let it slip.
_ _ _ _ _
One day after the bitchiness fiasco Patrick unexpectedly turned up at my door step.
"Do you wanna talk about yesterday?"
Did I? No.
I still asked him to come inside.
He started a conversation about a few songs he was busy writing at the moment and then he gently directed our talk towards the incident that I wanted to avoid the most. In the end he had me spilling my guts to him. It was hard not to confide in Patrick, given the fact that he was not only a good listener but also in a similar situation concerning Joyce.
"I´m sorry Andy doesn´t feel the same for you," he said softly when I had finished the damage report on my heart. Since I didn´t know what to say next he told me about a couple of times that Joyce had made his heart ache, mostly unintentionally but still.
Before he left my apartment about two hours later he invited me to come to a local show with him on Saturday. His cousin was in the band that was playing and it would probably take my mind off the letdown with Andy.
"Alright," I agreed, figuring anything would be better than spending the weekend alone by myself with no distraction, "I´ll pick you up at 7 then."
_ _ _ _ _
As soon as Patrick and I had entered the smoky dimly-lit bar I spotted HIM.
He took my breath away and I´m doubting I´ll be able to describe every little detail about him in such a way as to do justice to his drop-dead gorgeous air. Since this is my story, however, I´d like to see you try and stop me.
He was dressed in red and black, the red lines curling into snaky flames on the black background. When I entered the room he was bouncing up and down on the stage. I couldn´t take my eyes off his body, sleek and formed to fulfill my every wish. His voice, deep and melodic, reverberated through the bar, making me feel every note like a vibration in my chest.
All I thought about was how to make him mine, how to feel his toned body in my hands. Andy, who? I had fallen in love again and this time, I would not take "no" for an answer.
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