Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > love.cant.save.you
Chapter Four - WonderWall
Pulling the now crumpled envelope from my pocket I took my place in the cue and slowly undid the gum that stuck the paper together. Taking the blank cheque from inside I scribbled my signature on the back and wrote down some numbers on the front of it.
"Next please" a greying woman called from my left, taking a step forward I looked down at the cheque and ran a hand through my hair. "Next!" the woman's voice grew stronger and impatient; I sighed and shoved the cheque back in my pocket and walked away from the line.
Stepping out into the darkening evening I looked up at the sky and groaned aloud. It had to get easier somehow. The cheque was from my mother's lawyer. Dragging my scuffed chucks along the pavement I felt the first spits of rain fall on my face, taking a deep breath I kept walking towards the bus stop. Having a car in LA was pointless. A waste of time and apparently not great for the environment.
A glowing blue sign attracted my attention. The words The Loft drew me to shop like a moth to a flame, like butter to bread. In the window stood three mannequins. They were naked apart from pairs of jeans. The most expensive gorgeous jeans. Pulling the blank cheque back out of my pocket I bit my lip and smirked to myself. If my Mother wanted to pay me to stay away from her. I would take full advantage of the situation. Turning on my heel I walked back towards the bank and rejoined the cue.
--
Green lights turned amber before turning to a dead red. Red meant stop. Red meant love. Red meant anger. Red meant a lot of different things for a lot of different reasons. Drumming his long slender fingers on the steering wheel Pete flicked his windscreen wipers on to full and sat at the intersection willing the lights to turn green. Green meant go. Green meant life. Green meant growth. And on the flipside. Green meant envy. Taking a left at the intersection Pete pulled into a car park and switched his engine off. A vibration to his left caught his attention. Flipping his phone open he pushed the door and stood in the drizzling rain before turning his car alarm on.
"Elo" Pete answered the phone as he struggled to pull his hoody up, without destructing his perfectly sculpted hair.
"Hey Pete, its Patrick" the person answered, Pete walked away from his car towards the cover of the shops roofs.
"Hey Patrick, whats happening?" Pete asked as he looked up at the names of the shops. Looking for the one that drew him in every single time.
"The rest of the boys and I are going to meet up at Liquid Fire for drinks after nine. You in?" Patrick asked, Pete scuffed his feet along the pavement before coming to a stop in front of the shop he craved.
"Yeah, count me in. I'll call up Frank and his boys" Pete replied turning his phone off. Walking towards the automatic doors. He walked in. Loud music erupted from all four corners of the room, walking towards the men's section he suddenly felt at ease. Spending money was an addiction that was fuelled by his love for fashion. A couple of shop girls smiled nervously at him. This place was not for the faint hearted, or the poor. Grabbing a hoody with his own brand on it Pete grinned and put it back on the shelf.
"Do you have these in a size below?" a voice behind Pete caught his attention, turning around he looked at the person. Eyeing her up he smirked and turned back towards the hoodies. "They are just a bit too long in the leg" the voice continued. Pete walked around to the other side of the rack so he could watch her, not in a creepy way. But in an admiring way. Her back was towards him. Her hair fell just below her shoulders with uneven chunks. It was a dark rich chocolate brown with white blonde chunks. A pair of dark stonewash skinny jeans was matched with green flat shoes. Covering her upper body was a white plain wife beater, a studded belt held up her jeans. Pete bit his lip and continued to browse the rack.
"I think we have them in a size below, let me check the catalogue" the shop assistant talked to the girl, the girl uttered words of thanks and slowly turned around to lean on the counter. Pete's eyes widened as they looked at the girls face. A chunky fringe framed her face and her perfectly sculpted eyebrows were furrowed as she dug around in her bag for something. Butterflies erupted in Pete's stomach. A strange sensation built in his chest. It was her. Charles special girl.
--
Clutching the brown paper bag in my left hand I smiled to myself as is signed across the dotted line. Confirming that these jeans were mine. The girl behind the counter smiled a plastic smile at me, her bubblegum pink hair hurt my eyes, and her mismatched skirt and shirt combo confused me.
"Don't wash these with anything else. Cold wash for the first three times you wear them, after that you are free to wash them anyway you wish" she concluded handing my receipt, I took it and pocketed it.
"Why three times?" I asked suddenly, the girl stopped and looked to her left. "Is it just a random number, or a special number?" I continued, the girl shrugged and then started to laugh.
"You're random Tink. Random" she answered; I smiled at her and left a tip in the tip jar. Walking towards the door I bent down to fix my shoe. My phone started to ring, scooping it out of my bag I looked as the number flashed. Groaning I flipped it open and answered.
"This is Tink, how can I help?" I asked sarcastically as I walked through the sliding doors. There was a silence on the line. Then the line disconnected. Rolling my eyes I slammed my phone back into my bag and walked towards my apartment. Six blocks down. Five starbucks away. Three Burger Kings and one KFC. Hugging my waist I struggled to maintain a little bit of warmth. It was pointless. Wearing a wife beater in the rain in LA wasn't a smart idea.
Four blocks down. Three starbucks away. One Burger King and a lonely KFC. I looked at my watch. Ten past eight. Sighing I decided to take the short cut through the park. In the corner on a park bench sat a girl and a boy. Holding hands. Sharing kisses. Spilling secrets. Suddenly my expensive jeans felt cheap. Walking off the sidewalk I took a path through the trees. My phone rung again. The number flashed up unknown. Stopping I took the phone out of my bag and answered it.
"What?" I answered. There was a sigh and then someone cleared their throat. It was deep and husky as the voice filled my ear.
"Are you free?" the voice asked. I paused and wrinkled my nose. "I mean, I know you cost. But are you free tonight?" the voice continued, I took a seat on the edge of the garden and tried to place the voice.
"I don't have any bookings until after eleven. I have other commitments" I lied. The noise in the background of the phone was intense. There was loud music. Loud voices and a lot of glasses clanging together. "Did Charles give you this number?" I asked. The line went dead and I heard the dial tone.
Pulling the now crumpled envelope from my pocket I took my place in the cue and slowly undid the gum that stuck the paper together. Taking the blank cheque from inside I scribbled my signature on the back and wrote down some numbers on the front of it.
"Next please" a greying woman called from my left, taking a step forward I looked down at the cheque and ran a hand through my hair. "Next!" the woman's voice grew stronger and impatient; I sighed and shoved the cheque back in my pocket and walked away from the line.
Stepping out into the darkening evening I looked up at the sky and groaned aloud. It had to get easier somehow. The cheque was from my mother's lawyer. Dragging my scuffed chucks along the pavement I felt the first spits of rain fall on my face, taking a deep breath I kept walking towards the bus stop. Having a car in LA was pointless. A waste of time and apparently not great for the environment.
A glowing blue sign attracted my attention. The words The Loft drew me to shop like a moth to a flame, like butter to bread. In the window stood three mannequins. They were naked apart from pairs of jeans. The most expensive gorgeous jeans. Pulling the blank cheque back out of my pocket I bit my lip and smirked to myself. If my Mother wanted to pay me to stay away from her. I would take full advantage of the situation. Turning on my heel I walked back towards the bank and rejoined the cue.
--
Green lights turned amber before turning to a dead red. Red meant stop. Red meant love. Red meant anger. Red meant a lot of different things for a lot of different reasons. Drumming his long slender fingers on the steering wheel Pete flicked his windscreen wipers on to full and sat at the intersection willing the lights to turn green. Green meant go. Green meant life. Green meant growth. And on the flipside. Green meant envy. Taking a left at the intersection Pete pulled into a car park and switched his engine off. A vibration to his left caught his attention. Flipping his phone open he pushed the door and stood in the drizzling rain before turning his car alarm on.
"Elo" Pete answered the phone as he struggled to pull his hoody up, without destructing his perfectly sculpted hair.
"Hey Pete, its Patrick" the person answered, Pete walked away from his car towards the cover of the shops roofs.
"Hey Patrick, whats happening?" Pete asked as he looked up at the names of the shops. Looking for the one that drew him in every single time.
"The rest of the boys and I are going to meet up at Liquid Fire for drinks after nine. You in?" Patrick asked, Pete scuffed his feet along the pavement before coming to a stop in front of the shop he craved.
"Yeah, count me in. I'll call up Frank and his boys" Pete replied turning his phone off. Walking towards the automatic doors. He walked in. Loud music erupted from all four corners of the room, walking towards the men's section he suddenly felt at ease. Spending money was an addiction that was fuelled by his love for fashion. A couple of shop girls smiled nervously at him. This place was not for the faint hearted, or the poor. Grabbing a hoody with his own brand on it Pete grinned and put it back on the shelf.
"Do you have these in a size below?" a voice behind Pete caught his attention, turning around he looked at the person. Eyeing her up he smirked and turned back towards the hoodies. "They are just a bit too long in the leg" the voice continued. Pete walked around to the other side of the rack so he could watch her, not in a creepy way. But in an admiring way. Her back was towards him. Her hair fell just below her shoulders with uneven chunks. It was a dark rich chocolate brown with white blonde chunks. A pair of dark stonewash skinny jeans was matched with green flat shoes. Covering her upper body was a white plain wife beater, a studded belt held up her jeans. Pete bit his lip and continued to browse the rack.
"I think we have them in a size below, let me check the catalogue" the shop assistant talked to the girl, the girl uttered words of thanks and slowly turned around to lean on the counter. Pete's eyes widened as they looked at the girls face. A chunky fringe framed her face and her perfectly sculpted eyebrows were furrowed as she dug around in her bag for something. Butterflies erupted in Pete's stomach. A strange sensation built in his chest. It was her. Charles special girl.
--
Clutching the brown paper bag in my left hand I smiled to myself as is signed across the dotted line. Confirming that these jeans were mine. The girl behind the counter smiled a plastic smile at me, her bubblegum pink hair hurt my eyes, and her mismatched skirt and shirt combo confused me.
"Don't wash these with anything else. Cold wash for the first three times you wear them, after that you are free to wash them anyway you wish" she concluded handing my receipt, I took it and pocketed it.
"Why three times?" I asked suddenly, the girl stopped and looked to her left. "Is it just a random number, or a special number?" I continued, the girl shrugged and then started to laugh.
"You're random Tink. Random" she answered; I smiled at her and left a tip in the tip jar. Walking towards the door I bent down to fix my shoe. My phone started to ring, scooping it out of my bag I looked as the number flashed. Groaning I flipped it open and answered.
"This is Tink, how can I help?" I asked sarcastically as I walked through the sliding doors. There was a silence on the line. Then the line disconnected. Rolling my eyes I slammed my phone back into my bag and walked towards my apartment. Six blocks down. Five starbucks away. Three Burger Kings and one KFC. Hugging my waist I struggled to maintain a little bit of warmth. It was pointless. Wearing a wife beater in the rain in LA wasn't a smart idea.
Four blocks down. Three starbucks away. One Burger King and a lonely KFC. I looked at my watch. Ten past eight. Sighing I decided to take the short cut through the park. In the corner on a park bench sat a girl and a boy. Holding hands. Sharing kisses. Spilling secrets. Suddenly my expensive jeans felt cheap. Walking off the sidewalk I took a path through the trees. My phone rung again. The number flashed up unknown. Stopping I took the phone out of my bag and answered it.
"What?" I answered. There was a sigh and then someone cleared their throat. It was deep and husky as the voice filled my ear.
"Are you free?" the voice asked. I paused and wrinkled my nose. "I mean, I know you cost. But are you free tonight?" the voice continued, I took a seat on the edge of the garden and tried to place the voice.
"I don't have any bookings until after eleven. I have other commitments" I lied. The noise in the background of the phone was intense. There was loud music. Loud voices and a lot of glasses clanging together. "Did Charles give you this number?" I asked. The line went dead and I heard the dial tone.
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