Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > The Music Or the Misery
"Where should I hide the body?" Becca asked, whispering into the phone.
"What?" Patrick replied.
"Patrick, I swear to God, I am doing all I can not to kill that little girl of yours."
"What happened?" Patrick sighed, it had only been a week.
"What hasn't happened?! I'm counting on her burning this apartment down by the end of the week!"
"Where is she?"
"Last I saw her, she was hiding under her bed, asking if he was gone yet."
"Who's he?"
"This perfectly sweet little boy, Everett, I think."
"Oh. Well can I talk to my daughter for a sec?"
"Yeah, hang on a second." Becca told him, walking down the hall. She knocked on Kendall's door, but got no response.
"Kendall? Your da- I mean Patrick wants to talk to you!" She shouted, but still Kendall did not reply.
Becca opened the door and looked around the room. It looked empty. She walked over to the bed and knelt down, peeking underneath.
"Um, Patrick?"
"Yeah?"
"Please tell me you are in the state of Illinois tonight."
"Yeah, we're down here at the House of Blues, why?"
"Kendall's gone."
"What?"
"She's not here, Patrick."
"You sure she's not in the living room or something?"
Becca raced through the apartment, calling Kendall's name and generally turning the place upside down.
"Patrick, she's gone."
Patrick shouted something to the guys before speaking into his cell phone again, "We'll meet you there in twenty minutes."
---
Moments later Pete, Patrick, Andy, and Joe arrived, meeting Becca at the door. They took to the Chicago streets, heading off in all different directions.
---
Hours later Patrick arrived back at his apartment, defeated. He hadn't found Kendall, and last he heard neither had anyone else. He unlocked the apartment door and flicked on the light. Much to his surprise, Kendall sat on the couch reading a book, safe and sound.
"Where the hell were you?!" Patrick seethed.
Kendall pointed upward, not once looking up from her book.
"With Ms.Nelson?" Patrick knitted his brow in confusion, he had no idea why his daughter would have been with the ninety-year-old woman who lived above them.
"No," Kendall corrected, annoyed, "Lemme show you."
She stood up and grabbed his hand. She pulled him along behind her, out the door. She reached the stairs and let go of his hand. She darted up the stairs, Patrick lagging several feet behind.
"Kendall, there are twenty five flipping floors in this building. Couldn't we have just taken the elevator or something?" he huffed.
"Aw suck it up, Patrick, it's good for your hiney!" she replied, "We're almost there."
She darted up the final case of stairs and opened the door, leading them onto the roof.
"Why were you up here?" Patrick asked, looking around the plain gravel floor and brick balcony.
"Just thinking," she replied, walking over to the balcony and looking over. Patrick followed suit. Looking over the edge of the balcony you could see almost all of Chicago, all the way over to Lake Michigan. The lights of all the buildings below sparkled like a million stars, only brighter.
"Can I ask you a question?" Patrick asked, still staring down at the city below.
"Shoot."
"What's with you? I mean at first I thought we'd taken one step forward, but then we took two steps backward."
"Then why don't we just take three steps sideways so we can stop doing this silly little dance." Kendall said sarcastically.
"See, that's what I mean. Why don't you let anyone in?" Patrick asked, turning and staring at his daughter.
"Other people just let you down," she stated, matter-of-factly, "Can I ask you a question?"
"What?"
"Do you believe in God, Patrick?" she asked, looking him in the eye.
"You know, I'm not really sure what I believe. I mean, I guess I believe in something," he said thoughtfully, "Like you know how when you walk down the street, even though there's millions of cars and people passing by, you just kind of ignore them, but even though you don't acknowledge them, they're there. That's kind of how I see God. Like even though it doesn't seem like it, there's something there."
Kendall nodded, staring down watching the cars pass by on the streets below.
"Do you believe in God" Patrick asked, moments later.
"No," she replied simply.
"Why not?"
She turned to face him once more, "Patrick, if there was a God do you think that people would get sick? Would they get addicted to heroine and stop giving a damn about their kids? Would people run away just to escape it all? I don't think so."
"This doesn't have anything to do with what landed you in the orphanage, does it?" Patrick inquired, sitting down and leaning against the brick balcony.
"Maybe," she said, sitting down beside him.
"Would you want to talk about it?"
"My dad got sick and my mom got addicted to heroine. I ran away and just stayed at the orphanage. End of story," Kendall said coldly.
"Your dad still around?"
"He's a vegetable now. I never want to see him again."
"Kinda harsh, Kendall."
"Yeah well, it's a harsh world."
"Awful bleak outlook on life. You're only eight you know?"
"So?"
"You should be happy! I mean have you ever just enjoyed yourself?"
Kendall thought for a moment, before shaking her head.
"Hey, what do you say you come with on tour with me and the guys, a little father-daughter time never hurt right?"
Kendall stood up, "I'll go, but you're not my dad."
Patrick nodded, "One last question."
"What?" Kendall replied.
"You ever been to a shrink?"
"Since I was three," She replied shortly.
"Well there's just nothing like good help." Patrick smiled.
"What?" Patrick replied.
"Patrick, I swear to God, I am doing all I can not to kill that little girl of yours."
"What happened?" Patrick sighed, it had only been a week.
"What hasn't happened?! I'm counting on her burning this apartment down by the end of the week!"
"Where is she?"
"Last I saw her, she was hiding under her bed, asking if he was gone yet."
"Who's he?"
"This perfectly sweet little boy, Everett, I think."
"Oh. Well can I talk to my daughter for a sec?"
"Yeah, hang on a second." Becca told him, walking down the hall. She knocked on Kendall's door, but got no response.
"Kendall? Your da- I mean Patrick wants to talk to you!" She shouted, but still Kendall did not reply.
Becca opened the door and looked around the room. It looked empty. She walked over to the bed and knelt down, peeking underneath.
"Um, Patrick?"
"Yeah?"
"Please tell me you are in the state of Illinois tonight."
"Yeah, we're down here at the House of Blues, why?"
"Kendall's gone."
"What?"
"She's not here, Patrick."
"You sure she's not in the living room or something?"
Becca raced through the apartment, calling Kendall's name and generally turning the place upside down.
"Patrick, she's gone."
Patrick shouted something to the guys before speaking into his cell phone again, "We'll meet you there in twenty minutes."
---
Moments later Pete, Patrick, Andy, and Joe arrived, meeting Becca at the door. They took to the Chicago streets, heading off in all different directions.
---
Hours later Patrick arrived back at his apartment, defeated. He hadn't found Kendall, and last he heard neither had anyone else. He unlocked the apartment door and flicked on the light. Much to his surprise, Kendall sat on the couch reading a book, safe and sound.
"Where the hell were you?!" Patrick seethed.
Kendall pointed upward, not once looking up from her book.
"With Ms.Nelson?" Patrick knitted his brow in confusion, he had no idea why his daughter would have been with the ninety-year-old woman who lived above them.
"No," Kendall corrected, annoyed, "Lemme show you."
She stood up and grabbed his hand. She pulled him along behind her, out the door. She reached the stairs and let go of his hand. She darted up the stairs, Patrick lagging several feet behind.
"Kendall, there are twenty five flipping floors in this building. Couldn't we have just taken the elevator or something?" he huffed.
"Aw suck it up, Patrick, it's good for your hiney!" she replied, "We're almost there."
She darted up the final case of stairs and opened the door, leading them onto the roof.
"Why were you up here?" Patrick asked, looking around the plain gravel floor and brick balcony.
"Just thinking," she replied, walking over to the balcony and looking over. Patrick followed suit. Looking over the edge of the balcony you could see almost all of Chicago, all the way over to Lake Michigan. The lights of all the buildings below sparkled like a million stars, only brighter.
"Can I ask you a question?" Patrick asked, still staring down at the city below.
"Shoot."
"What's with you? I mean at first I thought we'd taken one step forward, but then we took two steps backward."
"Then why don't we just take three steps sideways so we can stop doing this silly little dance." Kendall said sarcastically.
"See, that's what I mean. Why don't you let anyone in?" Patrick asked, turning and staring at his daughter.
"Other people just let you down," she stated, matter-of-factly, "Can I ask you a question?"
"What?"
"Do you believe in God, Patrick?" she asked, looking him in the eye.
"You know, I'm not really sure what I believe. I mean, I guess I believe in something," he said thoughtfully, "Like you know how when you walk down the street, even though there's millions of cars and people passing by, you just kind of ignore them, but even though you don't acknowledge them, they're there. That's kind of how I see God. Like even though it doesn't seem like it, there's something there."
Kendall nodded, staring down watching the cars pass by on the streets below.
"Do you believe in God" Patrick asked, moments later.
"No," she replied simply.
"Why not?"
She turned to face him once more, "Patrick, if there was a God do you think that people would get sick? Would they get addicted to heroine and stop giving a damn about their kids? Would people run away just to escape it all? I don't think so."
"This doesn't have anything to do with what landed you in the orphanage, does it?" Patrick inquired, sitting down and leaning against the brick balcony.
"Maybe," she said, sitting down beside him.
"Would you want to talk about it?"
"My dad got sick and my mom got addicted to heroine. I ran away and just stayed at the orphanage. End of story," Kendall said coldly.
"Your dad still around?"
"He's a vegetable now. I never want to see him again."
"Kinda harsh, Kendall."
"Yeah well, it's a harsh world."
"Awful bleak outlook on life. You're only eight you know?"
"So?"
"You should be happy! I mean have you ever just enjoyed yourself?"
Kendall thought for a moment, before shaking her head.
"Hey, what do you say you come with on tour with me and the guys, a little father-daughter time never hurt right?"
Kendall stood up, "I'll go, but you're not my dad."
Patrick nodded, "One last question."
"What?" Kendall replied.
"You ever been to a shrink?"
"Since I was three," She replied shortly.
"Well there's just nothing like good help." Patrick smiled.
Sign up to rate and review this story