Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Sets of Three, They Say...

I was I was Invisible...

by howshesews 7 reviews


Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Humor, Romance - Published: 2006-11-22 - Updated: 2006-11-23 - 873 words

They met back at the Metro, the ten of them gathered around, waiting for instructions. As they circled up, Pete stood in front of them, sort of as a self-elected "search and evade" president.

"Alright. Everyone knows how to play?" Some people nodded. Some just stared. Pete nodded his head, clapped his hands together once, and spoke. "Okay! Um, it's pretty simple. Our motorized group of five will do the searching. The five on foot will receive a thirty minute advantage, and pursue successful evasion. Basically, this is a huge game of hide-and-go-seek. Got it?" Joe spoke up.

"What are our boundaries?" Pete thought about it and looked over at Patrick, who just rolled his eyes.

"Here to Michigan." Mal high-fived Pete while Patrick just shook his head.

"We're asking for gunshot wounds." He said, under his breath. Meg pointed at his lips, letting him know she saw what he had said. He smiled. This girl was amazing.

A blonde girl standing next to Joe spoke up.

"What are the teams? I'm thinking some brutal boy versus girl action seem like a good idea." The girls nodded. Meg, who had begun an incredibly intellectual game of "slaps" with Patrick, noticed him turn his head sharply upon hearing this proposition.

"Bullshit." They looked at him. Woops. He wished he would have thought about his previous sentence before letting it out from behind his lips. "I just mean, the boys would beat you. It's hardly fair." The blonde girl scoffed.

"The brainpower of a group of boys is about as impressive as that of a group of rocks." Meg read her lips, and then laughed. It was so true. She looked at the girl, and the girl smiled, beginning to sign a little.

"I'm Katy." Meg was pleased that another female that evening was going to be able to communicate with her.

"I'm Meg. You're on my team." The girl smiled and nodded. Good thing she was there. Another girl spoke up. Dirty was to the left of her, and she seemed less than happy about it.

"So, really. What are the teams?" Pete thought about it. There had been worse ideas proposed by this group of people, and before any of those life-threatening propositions made their way onto the table, he was going to decide.

"Boys against girls, bitches." The guys laughed, and Patrick shook his head.

"Then they're motorized cause I don't want 5 pretty girls running around downtown Chicago at midnight. Sorry." He mostly didn't want Meg running around downtown Chicago at midnight, but he wasn't going to say that.

The girls and boys broke off into their teams. Girls loading into Mal's Denali, boys standing in a circle, probably forming a gameplan. The girls Mal and Meg didn't know introduced themselves.

"Alex." Said one of them. They looked over at the other girl.

"Crystal." The girl Meg knew to be Katy introduced her self to Mal, and signed as she spoke.

"Alright. We know each other. Mostly, I say these boys have nothing on us. They're simple, and they've chosen Pete as their leader. If we're looking for a win, we need to dumb ourselves down about...20 percent. Is everyone okay with that?" The girls laughed.

"I think you mean 80. I take that back. They've got Andy. He's a strategist." Crystal said to them, almost concerned. Meg was watching, reading her words, then signed.

"It's cold. Who can think in the cold?" Alex spoke up.

"Joe. When it's warm, he sleeps." They nodded. Fair enough. Katy shook her head.

"Enough thinking about who would come up with the plan. Time to thinking about what the planner is coming up with. Agreed?" Meg looked out her window, laughing.

"Guess what? The sky just opened up. It's raining."

Laughter ensued.

"Shit." Joe looked at the sky. "I don't want to play anymore." Pete punched his friend in the shoulder.

"Meg lives five minutes from here. Maybe 15 on foot. It's in our boundaries. I noticed when I was in there that she had a pretty extensive umbrella collection." Mal had walked out of the car and heard this portion of the conversation.

"If you touch them without permission, she'll get a crime lab involved. Those umbrellas are her babies. If you want the umbrellas, you need to ask an inside source." She stopped, and they all looked at her.

"Who is the fucking inside source. It's December. It's raining." Dirty wasn't wearing a shirt, and Mal decided that was his first problem.

"If you'd put on some clothes, you might not feel like you were freezing from the inside out, maybe. I'm the inside source. Here's the key. You got them from me. Return them, though. Each and every one. She will kill you." They nodded, and Mal returned to the car.

Patrick laughed. She collected umbrellas? She played the piano? She had about 12 clocks on the same wall, he'd noticed so he assumed she was a lover of clocks...or knowing what time it was or something. He wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of, was how much he hoped she found them, invited them all back to her place after the game for hot chocolate or something. She definitely owed him.
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