Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Silence. A complete lack of sound.
"Lucy Lou."
The soft voice drifted in through the window, propped open on this uncomfortably heated night, and embraced the sleeping form of a girl. Even the quiet dripping of that day's rain did not silence the boy as he continued to call out Lucy's name. The girl finally stirred, propping herself up in bed and allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark room before padding over to the window.
"Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz - the third" Lucy whispered furiously, tugging at her drooping eyelids, heavy with sleep. She couldn't help but return his goofy grin as he noticed her presence by the window, and shaking her head slightly in frustration, she looked down to the peeling windowsill. Absentmindedly fiddling with the curlicues of paint covering the surface, she mentally cursed the boy for having so much power over her emotions.
Looking up to peer out across the gap between Peter's house and her own, she waited for him to explain his reasoning for waking her up at 4:13 AM. She knew he did not often sleep, but most nights he had the decency to occupy himself during the early hours of the morning, letting her rest. On this night, however, the boy had grown restless with the desire for company.
"Good morning," he said finally, giving a small wave.
With an exasperated sigh, Lucy rolled her eyes. "Is that all you wanted?" she berated, now annoyed that he had woken her for seemingly no reason. "Couldn't you have called Andy, or Joe instead?" Lucy silently cursed her parents for ultimately causing this disruption by moving into this very house. She knew all too well, though, that her life revolved around this boy - however annoying he may be.
"I couldn't sleep," he admitted sheepishly, knowing that this was the case most nights. Upon seeing her turn and start back towards her bed, he called out softly to stop her. "- And I was feeling nostalgic."
Lucy turned back towards the window, waiting for him to elaborate. "Remember when we first met?" he asked, his grin goofier than ever.
Of course Lucy remembered, it was her first day spent in Wilmette, Illinois. Her father, a general in the U.S. Air Force, had been relocated to Chicago and moved his family to the quiet suburb. It had not been a popular choice amongst the two Berrington children, and Lucy's sister Miriam had even offered the empty threat of running away from home. Their mother, however, had embraced the situation.
The very night of their arrival, Annie - their mother - had already secured a dinner invite to the house next door, kindly offered by Mrs. Wentz. That fateful dinner was the beginning of a beautiful friendship ... sorta.
---
"Mom! Tell Peter to stop flicking peas at me!" Lucy whined, jumping up and down in her seat due to her obvious frustration with the boy seated across from her. She had been able to fend off the flying vegetables with icy glares and the occasional kick beneath the table previously, but he seemed to have gained momentum.
"Peter," Mrs. Wentz admonished with an exasperated tone, "can't you leave that poor girl alone and allow this dinner to continue smoothly? Let's just try - for once - to act civil." Catching her son's eye, she lowered the volume of her voice in compromise. "For me?"
Pete let out a sigh, his eyes falling to his plate as he lowered his fork-turned-catapult. His surrender was met with a swift and subtle kick in the shins, dealt beneath the table by the younger girl. Her mature demeanor was quickly abandoned as she stuck her tongue out at him in a teasing manner, appearing in every way to be the child of seven years that she was.
Such pranks became the norm between the two neighbors, eventually forming a friendship over the wars that were waged. This bond would prove to be unbreakable, enduring the many late night fights, childish competitions, troublesome significant others, and whispered insults across tin can telephones. They found a certain solace in one another, and both knew that they would be crazy to throw that away.
---
"Yes, and I remember how much my mother loved you after you so neatly cut off a good six inches of my braid." Pete's mother had apologized profusely, and although no grudges were held, Lucy's mother had still insisted on leaving early that first night.
"She cried more than you did over that," Pete reminisced with a grin, hinting at Lucy's inability to shed a tear. In all the years he had known her, he had never seen her cry, and, to his knowledge, she never had. Lucy would often jokingly blame this on her defective tear-ducts, and although Pete had a hunch that her reluctance to express her emotions went a bit deeper, he never pressed the issue.
There were certain aspects of Lucy that were a mystery, even to Pete. She seemed to block off pieces of her past and even herself with a brick wall, putting up her defenses the moment someone came too close. He was surprised she had let herself get so close to him, but then again, everyone - even the cold hearted - needs a best friend, right?
As a comfortable silence settled over the pair, Lucy tried her best to restrain herself from yawning, but ultimately failed. "Peter," she said gently, her voice carried by the breeze, "I've got work in the morning, and a gig to shoot tomorrow night. I really should be asleep."
Pete nodded silently, his eyes focused on the clock mounted to his wall. 4:20 AM. "Yeah, alright. I'll let you go, but," he watched as she paused, having previously started back towards her bed, "sing for me? Please?"
With a nod and one last yawn, Lucy settled herself by the window once more. Soon, her soft voice met his ears, serenading him in an all too familiar melody. She had sung this song for him countless times, and it had quickly become routine. Whether Pete needed cheering up, a distraction, or a soft lullaby, she would sing for him - often accompanied by her quiet strumming on a guitar. On this night, however, she sang unaccompanied.
"Mr. Blue,
I told you that I love you
Please believe me
Mr. Blue,
I have to go now, darling
Don't be angry
I know that you're tired
Know that you're sore and sick and sad for some reason
So I leave you with a smile
Kiss you on the cheek
and you will call it treason
That's the way it goes some days
A fever comes at you without a warning
And I can see it in your face
You've been waiting to break since you woke up this morning
Mr. Blue,
Don't hold your head so low
That you can't see the sky
Mr. Blue,
It ain't so long since you were flying high
Mr. Blue,
I told you that I love you
Please believe me"
Lucy's voice lowered to a whisper as she finished, her eyes adjusting to see that Pete was now lightly dozing, having rested his head on the windowsill that sat next to his bed. Rising from her perch by the window, she guided her petite frame back to her own bed, murmuring a quiet farewell.
"Goodnight, Peter."
---
Author's Note: So I'm not a huge fan of this chapter as there's not much to it plot-wise, but I figured I should give all you wonderful readers a bit of insight to Lucy and Peter's friendship. Next chapter will get the ball rolling, I promise!
Also, the song that Lucy sings for Pete is "Mr. Blue" by Catherine Feeny, a sickeningly cute song that I happen to love. Oh, and in my mind, I imagine Lucy's voice sounding a bit like a mix between Feist and Feeny, in case you were wondering.
Next update should come a bit sooner, I would hope! xo
The soft voice drifted in through the window, propped open on this uncomfortably heated night, and embraced the sleeping form of a girl. Even the quiet dripping of that day's rain did not silence the boy as he continued to call out Lucy's name. The girl finally stirred, propping herself up in bed and allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark room before padding over to the window.
"Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz - the third" Lucy whispered furiously, tugging at her drooping eyelids, heavy with sleep. She couldn't help but return his goofy grin as he noticed her presence by the window, and shaking her head slightly in frustration, she looked down to the peeling windowsill. Absentmindedly fiddling with the curlicues of paint covering the surface, she mentally cursed the boy for having so much power over her emotions.
Looking up to peer out across the gap between Peter's house and her own, she waited for him to explain his reasoning for waking her up at 4:13 AM. She knew he did not often sleep, but most nights he had the decency to occupy himself during the early hours of the morning, letting her rest. On this night, however, the boy had grown restless with the desire for company.
"Good morning," he said finally, giving a small wave.
With an exasperated sigh, Lucy rolled her eyes. "Is that all you wanted?" she berated, now annoyed that he had woken her for seemingly no reason. "Couldn't you have called Andy, or Joe instead?" Lucy silently cursed her parents for ultimately causing this disruption by moving into this very house. She knew all too well, though, that her life revolved around this boy - however annoying he may be.
"I couldn't sleep," he admitted sheepishly, knowing that this was the case most nights. Upon seeing her turn and start back towards her bed, he called out softly to stop her. "- And I was feeling nostalgic."
Lucy turned back towards the window, waiting for him to elaborate. "Remember when we first met?" he asked, his grin goofier than ever.
Of course Lucy remembered, it was her first day spent in Wilmette, Illinois. Her father, a general in the U.S. Air Force, had been relocated to Chicago and moved his family to the quiet suburb. It had not been a popular choice amongst the two Berrington children, and Lucy's sister Miriam had even offered the empty threat of running away from home. Their mother, however, had embraced the situation.
The very night of their arrival, Annie - their mother - had already secured a dinner invite to the house next door, kindly offered by Mrs. Wentz. That fateful dinner was the beginning of a beautiful friendship ... sorta.
---
"Mom! Tell Peter to stop flicking peas at me!" Lucy whined, jumping up and down in her seat due to her obvious frustration with the boy seated across from her. She had been able to fend off the flying vegetables with icy glares and the occasional kick beneath the table previously, but he seemed to have gained momentum.
"Peter," Mrs. Wentz admonished with an exasperated tone, "can't you leave that poor girl alone and allow this dinner to continue smoothly? Let's just try - for once - to act civil." Catching her son's eye, she lowered the volume of her voice in compromise. "For me?"
Pete let out a sigh, his eyes falling to his plate as he lowered his fork-turned-catapult. His surrender was met with a swift and subtle kick in the shins, dealt beneath the table by the younger girl. Her mature demeanor was quickly abandoned as she stuck her tongue out at him in a teasing manner, appearing in every way to be the child of seven years that she was.
Such pranks became the norm between the two neighbors, eventually forming a friendship over the wars that were waged. This bond would prove to be unbreakable, enduring the many late night fights, childish competitions, troublesome significant others, and whispered insults across tin can telephones. They found a certain solace in one another, and both knew that they would be crazy to throw that away.
---
"Yes, and I remember how much my mother loved you after you so neatly cut off a good six inches of my braid." Pete's mother had apologized profusely, and although no grudges were held, Lucy's mother had still insisted on leaving early that first night.
"She cried more than you did over that," Pete reminisced with a grin, hinting at Lucy's inability to shed a tear. In all the years he had known her, he had never seen her cry, and, to his knowledge, she never had. Lucy would often jokingly blame this on her defective tear-ducts, and although Pete had a hunch that her reluctance to express her emotions went a bit deeper, he never pressed the issue.
There were certain aspects of Lucy that were a mystery, even to Pete. She seemed to block off pieces of her past and even herself with a brick wall, putting up her defenses the moment someone came too close. He was surprised she had let herself get so close to him, but then again, everyone - even the cold hearted - needs a best friend, right?
As a comfortable silence settled over the pair, Lucy tried her best to restrain herself from yawning, but ultimately failed. "Peter," she said gently, her voice carried by the breeze, "I've got work in the morning, and a gig to shoot tomorrow night. I really should be asleep."
Pete nodded silently, his eyes focused on the clock mounted to his wall. 4:20 AM. "Yeah, alright. I'll let you go, but," he watched as she paused, having previously started back towards her bed, "sing for me? Please?"
With a nod and one last yawn, Lucy settled herself by the window once more. Soon, her soft voice met his ears, serenading him in an all too familiar melody. She had sung this song for him countless times, and it had quickly become routine. Whether Pete needed cheering up, a distraction, or a soft lullaby, she would sing for him - often accompanied by her quiet strumming on a guitar. On this night, however, she sang unaccompanied.
"Mr. Blue,
I told you that I love you
Please believe me
Mr. Blue,
I have to go now, darling
Don't be angry
I know that you're tired
Know that you're sore and sick and sad for some reason
So I leave you with a smile
Kiss you on the cheek
and you will call it treason
That's the way it goes some days
A fever comes at you without a warning
And I can see it in your face
You've been waiting to break since you woke up this morning
Mr. Blue,
Don't hold your head so low
That you can't see the sky
Mr. Blue,
It ain't so long since you were flying high
Mr. Blue,
I told you that I love you
Please believe me"
Lucy's voice lowered to a whisper as she finished, her eyes adjusting to see that Pete was now lightly dozing, having rested his head on the windowsill that sat next to his bed. Rising from her perch by the window, she guided her petite frame back to her own bed, murmuring a quiet farewell.
"Goodnight, Peter."
---
Author's Note: So I'm not a huge fan of this chapter as there's not much to it plot-wise, but I figured I should give all you wonderful readers a bit of insight to Lucy and Peter's friendship. Next chapter will get the ball rolling, I promise!
Also, the song that Lucy sings for Pete is "Mr. Blue" by Catherine Feeny, a sickeningly cute song that I happen to love. Oh, and in my mind, I imagine Lucy's voice sounding a bit like a mix between Feist and Feeny, in case you were wondering.
Next update should come a bit sooner, I would hope! xo
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