Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Homesick at Spacecamp

Chapter Fifteen: So bury me in memory

by prettypoizon 6 reviews

They were the best of friends, and nothing could come between them. Exept a major record deal, missed phone calls and lost letters. Emily moved on with her life, not realizing her old friends were ...

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama, Humor, Romance - Published: 2006-12-11 - Updated: 2006-12-12 - 1260 words

The next morning, Patrick did as he was told and called Emily, nervous that the number he'd looked up in the phone book might be wrong.
"Hi, Emily." He said softly.
"'morning, Patrick."
"You, uh, you wanted me to call you?"
"Yeah, I did. Last night didn't go too well, I'm sorry, I was just...I dunno how to explain it. I was shocked and angry and hurt and confused."
"I understand, Em, I really do." Patrick replied sincerely.
Emily smiled; Patrick was as sweet and undertstanding as ever, just like before...visions of him yelling at her, red in the face flashed through her mind, and she startled herself, pushing the thoughts quickly away.
"Anyways. I was wondering if you, Andy and Joe could come over today, and we could...catch up a bit?"
Emily's request was music to Patrick's ears, but with one sour note.
"Of course, Em, of course, but what about-"
"I don't want to see him." Emily cut Patrick off, razor blades in her voice, not wanting to hear the name.
"Alright, then. Is, um, is Mitchy..." Patrick trailed off timidly.
" work? Yes, don't worry about him."
"Mmkay. See you soon, Em."

There were still no hugs, just awkward waves and Emily chewed nervously on her lip as she waved the three guests into the living room, where they perched themselves on the couch, looking around the spacious room; not Emily's style at all. The old apartment had been plastered with band posters, and frankly, a disaster. Emily was a messy person. But this room was high-ceilinged, the furnitue made of rich woods and the fabrics fancy, picky patterns that made Patrick, Andy and Joe cringe. Not Emily-like at /all/. Emily seated herself in an arm chair across from them, and folded her hands neatly but nervously in her lap.
"I'm sorry about last night." She mumbled.
"No problem, Em. You were confused." Joe replied.
Emily bit her lip, which was now on the verge of bleeding, and nodded.
"We didn't want to just show up like that, but..." Andy trailed off softly.
"Peter." Emily finished for him, her voice sharp.
The three boys nodded in unison.
"I think he had this...this idea in his head, y'know? Like, this scene that you'd open the door and run into his arms, all smiles." Joe continued.
"Always was a dreamer..." Emily whispered, then found her voice once again; "Anyways. How've you guys been?"
"On a fucking roller coaster." Joe replied bluntly.
Emily raised her eyebrows.
"You were right, Em, gotta hand it to ya," Andy said, "We're pretty big now."
"So I've heard." Emily replied curtly.
"Please don't be mad, Emily." Patrick said, looking up at her.
"Sorry. It's just...been a while." Emily muttered, looking away.
The room lapsed into a momentary, thoughtful silence, then Patrick spoke again;
"Pete hasn't had the easiest time."
Emily felt her heart start racing, her nerves start fluttering.
"What do you mean?"
Patrick seemed unable to continue, so Joe answered;
"About two years ago, Pete OD'd on his anti-anxiety meds."
Emily closed her eyes and grasped the arms of the chair, counting to ten. She opened her eyes;
"Why didn't somebody call me?"
"Emily...we would've if it'd been...fatal. But he was okay."
Emily looked away.
"I would've come anyways."
"We know."
Silence once more. Then Andy spoke up;
"He wouldn't call it suicide. Just all this metaphorical bullshit about turning off his mind."
"Ha," Patrick snapped, a bitter edge in his voice, "He seems to forget that I put music to his lyrics. I spend hours reading them over and over, I understand eventually, I'm not stupid."
Emily felt tears rise to the surface, and she leaned back, to try and blink them away.
"Emily, don't cry, please, don't cry..." Joe pleaded softly.
Emily shook her head and swallowed hard.
"No. I'm not going to," a thought entered her mind, and she spoke softly; "So, Patrick...whatever happened to Evie?"
Patrick turned a delicate shade of pink and massaged the back of his neck nervously as he replied;
"She's, ah, she's been around...she came back about two weeks after...what happened. It didn't last between us, we stayed friends, though. Haven't seen her in ages, last I heard she's working for some record company in New York."
Emily nodded, looking down at her lap and fiddling nervously with her gold-and-diamons bracelet.
"Her and Pete, actually, had a...a thing for a little while there." Patrick added.
Emily looked up in alarm.
"What?!" she cried.
"Yeah, they were together about six months."
Emily blinked slowly, her heart racing.
"And...uh, you were okay with this?" she choked.
Patrick looked uncomfortable.
"Sure, yeah..."
Andy and Joe snorted.
"Yeah, sure, Patrick. You so were not okay with it." Andy said, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, I was over her!" Patrick replied angrily.
Joe and Andy shook their heads in disbelief.
"But Pete...was Pete over me?" Emily wondered out loud, quietly.
"I dunno," Andy replied, "I honestly don't think he ever got over you, Em."
Emily couldn't control the tears any longer.
"I never forgot you guys, you know," she sobbed, "Not a day has passed that I didn't remember..."
"We never forgot you either, Em." Joe reassured her gently.
"Did you ever talk about me?"
The three boys looked at each other.
"I think you came up a couple times, yeah." Andy said.
"But it was hard to talk about you, Em." Joe added.
Emily nodded, tears making her cheeks blotchy.
"It's were my boys, y'know?" she whispered, her voice shaky.
"And you were our girl." Patrick answered solemnly.
The room was filed with silence, but for once it wasn't awkward; it was full of pain. Suddenly, Andy stood up and reached into his backpack, and pulled out...a scrapbook? Emily's red eyes widened with surprise.
"Is that what I think it is...?"
Andy smiled and nodded, and he crossed the room to where Emily sat, opening the book in front of her on the coffee table.
"The scrapbook." He confirmed.
Emily's eyes were wide with wonder.
"I didn't even realize you actually made one, I thought it was all teasing..." she gasped.
"Andy discovered his artsy side." Joe smirked, and Andy glared at him.
Emily flipped through the pages, memories washing over her; Patrick, soaking wet, holding up a chocolate birthday cake. Emily, Joe and Patrick, all in pyjamas, covering their faces. Emily passed out on the couch, one leg of her jeans rolled up to her knee and a beer bottle in her hands. Patrick and Joe perched on top of washing machines. That hideous truck, painted like a traffic light, Emily posing seductively on the hood. The last page was full of shots of outside the old apartment on the day they left Chicago; Andy with his arms around Emily, Joe's mother smothering him in kisses. Emily laughed through her tears, which were quickly drying up.
"I can't believe you actually finished this."
"It's something I did while we were on the road."
"Why?" Emily asked, looking up at Andy.
"Because...I dunno, really. Because I decided it was something that had to be done."
Emily looked back at the book and nodded. Smiling, she jumped up, surprising Andy, and hugged him tight.
"I missed you guys." She whispered.
Slowly, Patrick and Joe stood up and joined the group hug. It was perfect; this is where Emily had wanted to be for the past four years. But one thing was missing; Peter.
Sign up to rate and review this story