Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > The Curse of the Curls
The new and unapproved Kiss & (Don't) Tell
9 reviewsIt had to happen sooner or later: Sheena's lips do more than just talk to Mystery Man.
5Moving
Author's blah-di-blah: Again, the good parts were written by Rose.
11. The new and unapproved Kiss & (Don't) Tell
On a Tuesday afternoon I was home alone and had nothing to occupy myself with.
Do you know how that goes? Either you're swamped with work and hardly find the time to breathe or you can't find anything to do. And that's when idiotic thoughts start to take over your brain and make you go crazy.
I held my head in my hands, elbows propped up on the kitchen table, trying to get myself back under control. I closed my eyes and concentrated hard on one of my fondest memories with Patrick.
We had been married for about five months. He had just gotten back from the tour he was on. It was about 6:30 a.m.
flash back
Someone was shaking me. I mumbled something incoherent and rolled over. The unknown person shook me harder, and my brain finally snapped to the "ON" function. That and it also hit the "RED ALERT" button. All in one swift motion, I threw the bed sheets back, grabbed my pillow, and began beating the dark form in front of me. Did I bother to see if it really was a robber first? Psh, no.
"Sheena. Sheena! SHEENA!"
I froze, pillow held above my head and ready to take another swing.
"Oops... sorry, Tricky, you scared me."
Patrick picked himself up off the floor and straightened his hat and glasses, "Thanks Sheena, and a fine 'hello' to you too."
I giggled. Yeah, love does that to you. Even to me, damnit: Stupid giggling.
Patrick grabbed my hand, "Come on, we have to hurry!"
He then dragged me through the apartment we used to live in and out to the parking lot, pajamas and all.
"Um, Patrick, do you mind telling me where on God's green Earth we are going at 6:30 in the freaking morning?!" I was wondering what Pete had fed Patrick while they were on tour. This was just not normal.
"Just get in the car, we gotta go!" Patrick tried opening the car door, only to find that it was locked. After thoroughly searching his pockets, he finally found the keys.
Ten minutes later, Patrick pulled the car into the parking lot of one of the local parks. By now, I was seriously wondering what meds Pete had Patrick on.
"What're we doing here?"
"Just come on!" Patrick jumped out of the car.
I followed suit, but stopped at the edge of the wet, dewy grass. "Um, Trick, I'm not wearing shoes."
Patrick paused and looked at me for a moment before picking me up bridal-style and continuing on to wherever he was going. I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold on, surprised at this new Patrick, but also enjoying the moment to its fullest.
We stopped on top of one of the artificially made hills. Patrick set me down on a bench nearby before plopping down next to me and catching his breath.
"We're here!" he gasped, still a bit out of breath. (But mind you, that guy was just not the sportiest type. For I surely was NOT heavy. Back then anyway...)
"What are we doing here?" I was still clueless.
Patrick just smiled, put one arm around my shoulders, and pointed to the east. I followed his gaze and marveled at the beautiful sunrise decorating the horizon.
"Oh," was the only syllable I managed to get out.
After silently watching the gorgeous sunrise, I turned to face Patrick and smiled like I didn't even know it, "That was beautiful, Patrick."
He smiled shyly back at me, "I'm just glad to be home."
I smiled a bit more, then kissed him right there in front of the early morning joggers and dog walkers ambling along the park paths, not caring who saw us. Not even caring about the seven female figures armed with binoculars, cameras and red caps that read 'DoJ' who were unsuccessfully trying to hide behind the bushes a few feet from us.*
end flash back
I opened my eyes to feel a big smile on my face. Acting on a whim, I stood up and began searching for Patrick. Until it hit me that he was out on business.
I knew that he missed performing more than he would ever admit because he thought that would make him seem selfish and big-headed. But everyone who knew Patrick just a teensy bit was well aware of the fact that it was all about the music for him. On countless occasions I had witnessed how is face lit up once the fans started singing along. And his happiness was not about them regarding him as their idol but about being able to reach other people through his melodies. They didn't need to be translated in foreign countries, they were universal.
"That's the real beauty of music, Sheena," he had told me more than once. "Everybody understands it but it means something different to every single person."
I knew he was a sweet guy, a caring guy. The perfect one for me. But still, I couldn't stop feeling neglected, I couldn't stop feeling left alone. Now he put his heart and soul into producing new bands, it was his way of staying connected to music. To reach people with music. He did write a song or part of a song for other artists here and there, but I could tell that it wasn't the same to him like back in the days when he could perform his creations himself and take in the reactions from the masses, standing on the stage.
When FOB had stopped existing it had been a mutual agreement between the guys. I don't know if I would have talked Patrick into giving up on it if he hadn't decided to quit while they were on top, while his daughter was still a small kid and he hadn't missed out on too much of her life yet. While I was missing him almost every night and day, so much that my heart only ached more when I saw him on TV or on a magazine cover at the newsstand and knew that it would still be days, weeks until he would come back to me.
And then the time of endless waiting, missing and heartaching was over and Patrick was to stay with me. Every day, every night. 24 hours a day. I freaked out. I wasn't used to having him around so much anymore. I felt hemmed in all of a sudden. I wanted space for myself and then I had this stupid notion that he was trying to take away my baby girl from me, my little Kyle. One day he asked me if I even loved him anymore, after we had been married for 6 years. It was then that I realized that I had to work on myself because, despite my current inability to cope with the situation, I knew that we were meant to be together. Just the two of us and our Kylene.
I started to work on myself, I got professional help. I finally talked to other people about it, my mother was extremely supportive. And most of all, I started to explain to Patrick why I was acting so weird and he had nothing but understanding and patience for me. In reality, I don't even deserve him.
After months my mind had adapted to the new situation and things were beginning to feel good. We were a happy little family. I recommenced working as an elementary teacher and Patrick took care of our daughter while I was out. He had always had little side projects running, he would check out this and that band and then produce some songs. It was just occasionally. When Kyle turned 10 he decided to take his producer role more seriously and I was all for it. Everyone could see that he needed to be more involved with the music industry again, he was just too talented and too much in love with it than to just sit at home all day (and hang out with his immature band buddies who ruined my carpets with soft drink and dip stains).
During the last two years I had perceived a change in Patrick's priorites, however. I got the feeling that he was less interested in his homelife and more into his job. At first I shrugged off the thought, it was probably just me being currently frustrated with my own profession and I didn't say a thing. But there would always be this little raging voice inside of my head, telling me to blame him for the insanities Kyle was guilty of committing ever since she had entered puberty because he wasn't around enough to act as a responsible parent with me. Unfortunately, I never really discussed this matter with him because I feared that he would not understand this time. I had strained his sympathy so much years ago and I had made him feel completely neglected, I couldn't do it again.
This was where I stood today. I wouldn't even know what to tell him now, maybe I should have done something years ago.
Half an hour later I called my newly acquired confidant. The happy memory of Patrick and I and the sunset had only worsened my condition because it made me sick to think of something we used to have, something that had been lost in the annals of time.
As soon as he arrived, and boy, did he come here quickly, we started babbling about unimportant matters. I just wanted to talk to someone to keep my mind off the topic of my homelife.
If there was one thing this guy could do, it was make me laugh. Well, actually there were two things this guy could do: make me laugh and make me feel awkward. But the last thing held true for a lot of people, especially during my younger years, so we will push that one to the periphery of his talents.
After he had made me laugh so hard that I had trouble breathing, and he had begun to laugh at me laughing, I just felt so relieved. Maybe things weren't perfect with the hubby but there were other things. I had friends, I had special friends like Katy who would kick Patrick's ass into the new century if I told her about my problems. And there was an even older friend of mine sitting right there with me. Cheering me up, not because I had especially requested he do so, but because he sensed that this was exactly what I needed.
"Um, why are you staring at me like that, Sheena?" he asked.
I didn't have an answer. I still don't. But I can tell you what happened next: I kissed him.
Even though I knew I shouldn't, even though I knew I would hurt so many people by doing it, I kissed him.
My eyes closed, I pressed my lips onto his. He didn't respond but neither did he pull away. After about 10 seconds I decided I had made a stupid mistake but I didn't dare detaching myself from him for fear of his reaction.
Another 5 seconds passed.
His hand landed on my shoulder. And I opened my eyes. To find him staring at me.
That freaked me out and I pulled away.
"I am...," I began.
"Sorry?" he offered. Still looking at me as if...well, I HAD, in fact, lost my mind.
"An idiot," I finished my sentence. "And yes, I am sorry, too."
"Yeah," he nodded.
"Well, YOU didn't stop me!" I blurted out. It takes two to tango. Even though I wouldn't know, I've never tango'd before. (Or used the word 'tango'd'.)
"That's because I..."
"Was scared, disgusted, shocked. Yeah, yeah, I get it. Blame it on me," I said carelessly. Well, it had been my fault.
"Am an idiot, too," he continued.
I looked at him, trying to interpret that remark. I mean I wasn't gonna argue with it. He behaved like an idiot most of the time... but lately...It felt as if we were somehow connected.
Ok, what is the point of holding back information when my sadist creator is just gonna spill the beans sooner or later: I felt strangely attracted to him.
"For I actually enjoyed it."
I felt my face getting hot, "I, ah-"
"Sheena? Where are you, wifey?" Suddenly Patrick stood in front of us. Smiling at the both of us. Placing a soft kiss on my lips and then sliding his arm around my waist.
"Didn't know you let in former rockstars who ended up living on the streets, smelling like a bag of rotten bones," he nodded at our mutual friend and grinned like the brainless piece of shit I was.
"What's up, dude," the other ex-FOB member replied.
They high-fived.
I low-zero'd myself. What kind of person have I become? What kind of wife have I become?
"Hey, come into my office for a second. I need you to listen to this new track I just finished," Patrick waved for our buddy to follow him.
Just before he left the room he turn around and shot a quick glance at me. Something in his eyes told me he wouldn't tell Patrick. He wouldn't tell anyone.
So YOU better keep your mouth shut, too.
_________________
* Sheena's just jealous and wishes she was in the DoJ, my fellow club mates. Just jealous she can kiss Patrick and we are hiding in the bushes. Yup. Oh, what does she know anyway? I miss you guys!
11. The new and unapproved Kiss & (Don't) Tell
On a Tuesday afternoon I was home alone and had nothing to occupy myself with.
Do you know how that goes? Either you're swamped with work and hardly find the time to breathe or you can't find anything to do. And that's when idiotic thoughts start to take over your brain and make you go crazy.
I held my head in my hands, elbows propped up on the kitchen table, trying to get myself back under control. I closed my eyes and concentrated hard on one of my fondest memories with Patrick.
We had been married for about five months. He had just gotten back from the tour he was on. It was about 6:30 a.m.
flash back
Someone was shaking me. I mumbled something incoherent and rolled over. The unknown person shook me harder, and my brain finally snapped to the "ON" function. That and it also hit the "RED ALERT" button. All in one swift motion, I threw the bed sheets back, grabbed my pillow, and began beating the dark form in front of me. Did I bother to see if it really was a robber first? Psh, no.
"Sheena. Sheena! SHEENA!"
I froze, pillow held above my head and ready to take another swing.
"Oops... sorry, Tricky, you scared me."
Patrick picked himself up off the floor and straightened his hat and glasses, "Thanks Sheena, and a fine 'hello' to you too."
I giggled. Yeah, love does that to you. Even to me, damnit: Stupid giggling.
Patrick grabbed my hand, "Come on, we have to hurry!"
He then dragged me through the apartment we used to live in and out to the parking lot, pajamas and all.
"Um, Patrick, do you mind telling me where on God's green Earth we are going at 6:30 in the freaking morning?!" I was wondering what Pete had fed Patrick while they were on tour. This was just not normal.
"Just get in the car, we gotta go!" Patrick tried opening the car door, only to find that it was locked. After thoroughly searching his pockets, he finally found the keys.
Ten minutes later, Patrick pulled the car into the parking lot of one of the local parks. By now, I was seriously wondering what meds Pete had Patrick on.
"What're we doing here?"
"Just come on!" Patrick jumped out of the car.
I followed suit, but stopped at the edge of the wet, dewy grass. "Um, Trick, I'm not wearing shoes."
Patrick paused and looked at me for a moment before picking me up bridal-style and continuing on to wherever he was going. I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold on, surprised at this new Patrick, but also enjoying the moment to its fullest.
We stopped on top of one of the artificially made hills. Patrick set me down on a bench nearby before plopping down next to me and catching his breath.
"We're here!" he gasped, still a bit out of breath. (But mind you, that guy was just not the sportiest type. For I surely was NOT heavy. Back then anyway...)
"What are we doing here?" I was still clueless.
Patrick just smiled, put one arm around my shoulders, and pointed to the east. I followed his gaze and marveled at the beautiful sunrise decorating the horizon.
"Oh," was the only syllable I managed to get out.
After silently watching the gorgeous sunrise, I turned to face Patrick and smiled like I didn't even know it, "That was beautiful, Patrick."
He smiled shyly back at me, "I'm just glad to be home."
I smiled a bit more, then kissed him right there in front of the early morning joggers and dog walkers ambling along the park paths, not caring who saw us. Not even caring about the seven female figures armed with binoculars, cameras and red caps that read 'DoJ' who were unsuccessfully trying to hide behind the bushes a few feet from us.*
end flash back
I opened my eyes to feel a big smile on my face. Acting on a whim, I stood up and began searching for Patrick. Until it hit me that he was out on business.
I knew that he missed performing more than he would ever admit because he thought that would make him seem selfish and big-headed. But everyone who knew Patrick just a teensy bit was well aware of the fact that it was all about the music for him. On countless occasions I had witnessed how is face lit up once the fans started singing along. And his happiness was not about them regarding him as their idol but about being able to reach other people through his melodies. They didn't need to be translated in foreign countries, they were universal.
"That's the real beauty of music, Sheena," he had told me more than once. "Everybody understands it but it means something different to every single person."
I knew he was a sweet guy, a caring guy. The perfect one for me. But still, I couldn't stop feeling neglected, I couldn't stop feeling left alone. Now he put his heart and soul into producing new bands, it was his way of staying connected to music. To reach people with music. He did write a song or part of a song for other artists here and there, but I could tell that it wasn't the same to him like back in the days when he could perform his creations himself and take in the reactions from the masses, standing on the stage.
When FOB had stopped existing it had been a mutual agreement between the guys. I don't know if I would have talked Patrick into giving up on it if he hadn't decided to quit while they were on top, while his daughter was still a small kid and he hadn't missed out on too much of her life yet. While I was missing him almost every night and day, so much that my heart only ached more when I saw him on TV or on a magazine cover at the newsstand and knew that it would still be days, weeks until he would come back to me.
And then the time of endless waiting, missing and heartaching was over and Patrick was to stay with me. Every day, every night. 24 hours a day. I freaked out. I wasn't used to having him around so much anymore. I felt hemmed in all of a sudden. I wanted space for myself and then I had this stupid notion that he was trying to take away my baby girl from me, my little Kyle. One day he asked me if I even loved him anymore, after we had been married for 6 years. It was then that I realized that I had to work on myself because, despite my current inability to cope with the situation, I knew that we were meant to be together. Just the two of us and our Kylene.
I started to work on myself, I got professional help. I finally talked to other people about it, my mother was extremely supportive. And most of all, I started to explain to Patrick why I was acting so weird and he had nothing but understanding and patience for me. In reality, I don't even deserve him.
After months my mind had adapted to the new situation and things were beginning to feel good. We were a happy little family. I recommenced working as an elementary teacher and Patrick took care of our daughter while I was out. He had always had little side projects running, he would check out this and that band and then produce some songs. It was just occasionally. When Kyle turned 10 he decided to take his producer role more seriously and I was all for it. Everyone could see that he needed to be more involved with the music industry again, he was just too talented and too much in love with it than to just sit at home all day (and hang out with his immature band buddies who ruined my carpets with soft drink and dip stains).
During the last two years I had perceived a change in Patrick's priorites, however. I got the feeling that he was less interested in his homelife and more into his job. At first I shrugged off the thought, it was probably just me being currently frustrated with my own profession and I didn't say a thing. But there would always be this little raging voice inside of my head, telling me to blame him for the insanities Kyle was guilty of committing ever since she had entered puberty because he wasn't around enough to act as a responsible parent with me. Unfortunately, I never really discussed this matter with him because I feared that he would not understand this time. I had strained his sympathy so much years ago and I had made him feel completely neglected, I couldn't do it again.
This was where I stood today. I wouldn't even know what to tell him now, maybe I should have done something years ago.
Half an hour later I called my newly acquired confidant. The happy memory of Patrick and I and the sunset had only worsened my condition because it made me sick to think of something we used to have, something that had been lost in the annals of time.
As soon as he arrived, and boy, did he come here quickly, we started babbling about unimportant matters. I just wanted to talk to someone to keep my mind off the topic of my homelife.
If there was one thing this guy could do, it was make me laugh. Well, actually there were two things this guy could do: make me laugh and make me feel awkward. But the last thing held true for a lot of people, especially during my younger years, so we will push that one to the periphery of his talents.
After he had made me laugh so hard that I had trouble breathing, and he had begun to laugh at me laughing, I just felt so relieved. Maybe things weren't perfect with the hubby but there were other things. I had friends, I had special friends like Katy who would kick Patrick's ass into the new century if I told her about my problems. And there was an even older friend of mine sitting right there with me. Cheering me up, not because I had especially requested he do so, but because he sensed that this was exactly what I needed.
"Um, why are you staring at me like that, Sheena?" he asked.
I didn't have an answer. I still don't. But I can tell you what happened next: I kissed him.
Even though I knew I shouldn't, even though I knew I would hurt so many people by doing it, I kissed him.
My eyes closed, I pressed my lips onto his. He didn't respond but neither did he pull away. After about 10 seconds I decided I had made a stupid mistake but I didn't dare detaching myself from him for fear of his reaction.
Another 5 seconds passed.
His hand landed on my shoulder. And I opened my eyes. To find him staring at me.
That freaked me out and I pulled away.
"I am...," I began.
"Sorry?" he offered. Still looking at me as if...well, I HAD, in fact, lost my mind.
"An idiot," I finished my sentence. "And yes, I am sorry, too."
"Yeah," he nodded.
"Well, YOU didn't stop me!" I blurted out. It takes two to tango. Even though I wouldn't know, I've never tango'd before. (Or used the word 'tango'd'.)
"That's because I..."
"Was scared, disgusted, shocked. Yeah, yeah, I get it. Blame it on me," I said carelessly. Well, it had been my fault.
"Am an idiot, too," he continued.
I looked at him, trying to interpret that remark. I mean I wasn't gonna argue with it. He behaved like an idiot most of the time... but lately...It felt as if we were somehow connected.
Ok, what is the point of holding back information when my sadist creator is just gonna spill the beans sooner or later: I felt strangely attracted to him.
"For I actually enjoyed it."
I felt my face getting hot, "I, ah-"
"Sheena? Where are you, wifey?" Suddenly Patrick stood in front of us. Smiling at the both of us. Placing a soft kiss on my lips and then sliding his arm around my waist.
"Didn't know you let in former rockstars who ended up living on the streets, smelling like a bag of rotten bones," he nodded at our mutual friend and grinned like the brainless piece of shit I was.
"What's up, dude," the other ex-FOB member replied.
They high-fived.
I low-zero'd myself. What kind of person have I become? What kind of wife have I become?
"Hey, come into my office for a second. I need you to listen to this new track I just finished," Patrick waved for our buddy to follow him.
Just before he left the room he turn around and shot a quick glance at me. Something in his eyes told me he wouldn't tell Patrick. He wouldn't tell anyone.
So YOU better keep your mouth shut, too.
_________________
* Sheena's just jealous and wishes she was in the DoJ, my fellow club mates. Just jealous she can kiss Patrick and we are hiding in the bushes. Yup. Oh, what does she know anyway? I miss you guys!
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