Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Why is this bedroom so cold, turned away on your side?
You quietly step through the back door; you've sobered up. Something about awkward silences works like coffee. Andy hardly even looked at you, God that was hell on earth. The screen door slams, Shit, now Charlee will know you're home.
"Joe?"
Her voice rings through the quiet house. You hear Leiya gurgling from the living room, and the dull sound of the TV. Laugh track; she's watching a sitcom. Wouldn't that be great? Hahaha every time you do something stupid, family troubles solved in twenty minutes, that's not counting commercial breaks, get drunk in Vegas and marry Rachel? Friends. What a great show.
"Joe!" Charlee calls again, a little more frantically.
"Yeah, it's me." you yell back shamefully.
You kick at one of the cat's plastic dingle balls, watching it zoom across the kitchen floor, and Fluffy runs in, skidding after the ball, and back out into the hall. You hear her claws tearing up the carpets and up the stairs. Fluffy; what a dumb name. Charlee named her. Your thoughts are stirred as Charlee enters the kitchen, Leiya on her hip. Leiya grins at you;
"GAAAAH!" she coos.
You smile patiently, taking her from Charlee and ruffling her hair, or lack thereof.
"Dah. Dada." You correct her.
"GAH!"
You laugh, and Charlee giggles. You sound fake, you just know it. She bits her lip and crosses her arms.
"So..." she begins. Here it comes. "How was your night?"
Oh, that's just lovely. Let's fake it. One big, false-happy family. Haha. Sitcom again. Where's Matt LeBlanc to say something stupid and make everyone laugh, clear this tension in the air?
"Ah...not so great. I ended up at Pete's." you say, playing with the collar of Leiya's undershirt, not looking at Charlee.
"And?"
"He wasn't pleased with me."
Charlee purses her lips and gives you that 'I-told-you-so" look, even though she DIDN'T tell you so. Oh, you want to scream, you want to yell, you want to hit her...damn, that's new. Are you still drunk? You're scared, you thrust the baby back into Charlee's safe, caring arms. You are a monster. Charlee looks puzzled.
"What's wrong?"
Shit. There's tears in your eyes. Wipe them, quick.
"Ah...well, the guys are mad at me, they...I, well, they said I'm on 'probation', I might get kicked outta the band..."
Charlee swallows a lump, you watch her throat; now she wants to yell and scream and hit you.
"Joe...look, we don't have a lot of money, but at least your band is famous, that's a plus, at least it's a job, but..."
Charlee storms back into the livingroom. She puts Leiya in her playpen, you can hear the mobile clinking and ringing, you can hear Leiya giggle as Charlee hands her that stupid stuffed hippo she loves- now Charlee is coming back, shit, what did you do? Charlee only puts her down when she's mad, that kid is like a security blanket. Oh, and she looks mad; her browns eyes are black, her hands on her hips, you can almost see the smoke; why do you always wanna fuck her at times like this? No, shut up, that's what got you into this mess, look where Leiya came from; of course, neither of you will admit it. Leiya wasn't an accident, ssh, winkwink. Charlee does that weird Italian thing; she tries to swallow the anger, tries to look at something else, but in the end, she yells.
"Fucking Christ, Joe! We're livin' in a shithole, we got no money, we gotta baby!"
Her Italian accent always shows through when she's mad. Ooh, total hotness. What is your problem?
"Charlee, I-I know, but, it's not-" Not what? Your fault? Yes it is. Hah. Haha. Laugh track.
"It IS your fault, Joe! You and your fuckin' boozin'!"
"Look who's talking!"
"What?! I hate beer!"
Ha. Haha. Sitcom. You're gaining terrain; you've got something on her now. You flash her that crooked smirk you know she hates so much;
"You pop pills."
Charlee is flustered now; she's waving her hands and stuttering pointlessly.
"I do not!" she cries.
You shake your head; you're laughing at her. Taunting her. Hah. Haha. Uh-oh; too far, Joseph. She's coming at you with a book, that hardcover book she's reading, damn it's heavy, owww. Your shoulder is throbbing. She drops the book and hits you a couple of times. It's that new feeling again, you want to hit her. You aren't a wife beater, Joseph, you're better than this- Charlee stumbles back, crying; her left cheek is bright red, finger marks fading from her skin. She is terrified of you; she runs out of the room, grabbing Leiya and leaving the house without as much as grabbing her purse. You're a wife beater. And for the first time, you're crying. So much for a sitcom. Hah. Haha.
"Joe?"
Her voice rings through the quiet house. You hear Leiya gurgling from the living room, and the dull sound of the TV. Laugh track; she's watching a sitcom. Wouldn't that be great? Hahaha every time you do something stupid, family troubles solved in twenty minutes, that's not counting commercial breaks, get drunk in Vegas and marry Rachel? Friends. What a great show.
"Joe!" Charlee calls again, a little more frantically.
"Yeah, it's me." you yell back shamefully.
You kick at one of the cat's plastic dingle balls, watching it zoom across the kitchen floor, and Fluffy runs in, skidding after the ball, and back out into the hall. You hear her claws tearing up the carpets and up the stairs. Fluffy; what a dumb name. Charlee named her. Your thoughts are stirred as Charlee enters the kitchen, Leiya on her hip. Leiya grins at you;
"GAAAAH!" she coos.
You smile patiently, taking her from Charlee and ruffling her hair, or lack thereof.
"Dah. Dada." You correct her.
"GAH!"
You laugh, and Charlee giggles. You sound fake, you just know it. She bits her lip and crosses her arms.
"So..." she begins. Here it comes. "How was your night?"
Oh, that's just lovely. Let's fake it. One big, false-happy family. Haha. Sitcom again. Where's Matt LeBlanc to say something stupid and make everyone laugh, clear this tension in the air?
"Ah...not so great. I ended up at Pete's." you say, playing with the collar of Leiya's undershirt, not looking at Charlee.
"And?"
"He wasn't pleased with me."
Charlee purses her lips and gives you that 'I-told-you-so" look, even though she DIDN'T tell you so. Oh, you want to scream, you want to yell, you want to hit her...damn, that's new. Are you still drunk? You're scared, you thrust the baby back into Charlee's safe, caring arms. You are a monster. Charlee looks puzzled.
"What's wrong?"
Shit. There's tears in your eyes. Wipe them, quick.
"Ah...well, the guys are mad at me, they...I, well, they said I'm on 'probation', I might get kicked outta the band..."
Charlee swallows a lump, you watch her throat; now she wants to yell and scream and hit you.
"Joe...look, we don't have a lot of money, but at least your band is famous, that's a plus, at least it's a job, but..."
Charlee storms back into the livingroom. She puts Leiya in her playpen, you can hear the mobile clinking and ringing, you can hear Leiya giggle as Charlee hands her that stupid stuffed hippo she loves- now Charlee is coming back, shit, what did you do? Charlee only puts her down when she's mad, that kid is like a security blanket. Oh, and she looks mad; her browns eyes are black, her hands on her hips, you can almost see the smoke; why do you always wanna fuck her at times like this? No, shut up, that's what got you into this mess, look where Leiya came from; of course, neither of you will admit it. Leiya wasn't an accident, ssh, winkwink. Charlee does that weird Italian thing; she tries to swallow the anger, tries to look at something else, but in the end, she yells.
"Fucking Christ, Joe! We're livin' in a shithole, we got no money, we gotta baby!"
Her Italian accent always shows through when she's mad. Ooh, total hotness. What is your problem?
"Charlee, I-I know, but, it's not-" Not what? Your fault? Yes it is. Hah. Haha. Laugh track.
"It IS your fault, Joe! You and your fuckin' boozin'!"
"Look who's talking!"
"What?! I hate beer!"
Ha. Haha. Sitcom. You're gaining terrain; you've got something on her now. You flash her that crooked smirk you know she hates so much;
"You pop pills."
Charlee is flustered now; she's waving her hands and stuttering pointlessly.
"I do not!" she cries.
You shake your head; you're laughing at her. Taunting her. Hah. Haha. Uh-oh; too far, Joseph. She's coming at you with a book, that hardcover book she's reading, damn it's heavy, owww. Your shoulder is throbbing. She drops the book and hits you a couple of times. It's that new feeling again, you want to hit her. You aren't a wife beater, Joseph, you're better than this- Charlee stumbles back, crying; her left cheek is bright red, finger marks fading from her skin. She is terrified of you; she runs out of the room, grabbing Leiya and leaving the house without as much as grabbing her purse. You're a wife beater. And for the first time, you're crying. So much for a sitcom. Hah. Haha.
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