Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > He Was Drop Dead Gorgeous. Too Bad He Dropped Dead.
My heart ceased beating. I thought he was finally happy. I thought he enjoyed this quiet little life we were weaving together. Boy, was I wrong. There must be something I can do. There must be a doctor or some kind of therapist who can save him from himself. I turned back a page and another and another until I had read the entire journal. Every page, every entry, each word all seemed to flow together into one simple paragraph with a single and alarming statement "I'm Not Happy". Or as Peter had written "I'm already dead. I died the day Greta and Flip left me on that street corner. I committed suicide right then and there. All of this? This is hell. I am paying for my sins." His words terrified me. My hands shook as carefully placed the journal back into his desk. I wondered out of his office in a daze of thought. When he told me about March 12th, about how he wanted me to kill him I didn't believe that he truly meant it. After reading his most sacred thoughts and writings I was starting to think that I was wrong. How am I going to find the courage to end his life? I have nine months to figure that out. Just then the boy of my dreams burst through the door. He looked like he had been drinking but he wasn't completely trashed. "How was your day?" I asked taking his coat from him. He didn't answer me. He had a far away look about his face as he walked right past me as if he were drawn by some magical force in the other room. He walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch. I sat in the chair in the corner of the room and stared at him. His arms contorted in a strange motion then he made a soft wheezing sound. "Are you okay?" I said suddenly becoming worried. He looked at me, began to laugh then burst out into tears. His wiped the liquefied mascara from his heavy eyelids then said with clarity "Patrick and Andy got into a car accident last night." "Oh my god.." I shrieked rushing to Peter's side. "Are they okay? Please tell me they're okay!" I pleaded as I sat on the floor in front of him. He smiled through the tears then raised his voice and said "Yeah they're okay. They're more than okay. They're fucking dead. The both of them killed upon impact! Those bastards, they would drive drunk and decide to wrap their car around a tree. Those lucky bastards. I could have been in that car, but instead I was home with you!" He buried his face in the couch and made whining noises. "Shh.." I said rubbing his back, he only cried louder. "March 12th will come soon enough." I soothed. At that statement he turned around and stared at me with a glimmer in his wet eyes. "Are you saying you really are going to kill me?" He inquired. "Yes" I said not sure if I was lying. "I love you." He murmured between fits of coughing and heaving from his crying. "Peter is so weird." I thought as I cradled him in my arms. Eventually his crying subsided and he feel asleep. I ran my fingers through his hair. "He sleeps like a baby" I thought as I silently admired him. He's so adorable when he's asleep. I snuggled up close to him and drifted off into nightmares or maybe they were dreams about Peter's death.
Peter and I attended Patrick and Andy's funerals. The both of them were closed caskets; the car crash was very severe. The coroner says they died before they could even realize what had happened which is a good thing I guess. Peter didn't cry anymore after the night he found out but I can tell he's still shaken by it. Joe didn't seem half as upset as Peter was. Peter was always very sensitive and emotional I guess that is was drew me to him and what eventually killed him. It was a month or so after the funeral that Peter and I welcomed our baby girl into the world. We named her Andi Pat Wentz as a reminder of Pete's dear friends and band mates. "She looks like my mom" I recall Peter uttering as he held her for the first time. We liked to joke that Andi was the only girl Peter ever loved with his whole heart. It was true, from the moment he laid eyes on that tiny girl he was entranced. Andi was the perfect baby so full of life yet quiet. She hardly ever cried. Still it was hard having to care for her and Peter. At times it seemed like Andi was more mature than Peter was. He was a needy person and the biggest drama queen in the world but I loved him.
Flip and Carol came over to see the baby when she was about six weeks old. From the moment Carol cradled her in her arms I knew it was a perfect fit. Andi was the most precious thing in my world but she wasn't meant for me. Carol and Flip had been looking to adopt after they found out Flip couldn't have children of his own. The time was wrong for Peter and me but it was oh so right for them. I pulled Peter into the kitchen and explained to him my thoughts "I think we should give up Andi. We are both complete messes. You're an emotional wreck. We're not fit to be parents. Flip and Carol have been thinking about adopting a baby. If they adopt Andi we'll know she's in good hands." Peter stared into the living room where Carol and Flip sat with Andi. Andi stared as Flip made silly faces at her. Peter wiped a single tear from his delicate cheek then said, "You're right. They deserve her more than we do."
Peter and I made the hardest decision of our lives, or rather second hardest. We gave our only child away to our best friends. Our perfect little Andi was in good hands. Flip and Carol loved her more than anything. I went back to work at the veterinary clinic and Peter recorded a few songs solo but things weren't the same after the tragically wonderful deaths of Patrick and Andy. It was working at that clinic that I decided my method of killing Peter. A middle-aged couple had brought an ancient cancer plagued cocker spaniel. The poor thing was nearly twenty years old. He had long since lost his sight and now suffered from leukemia. There was nothing we could do but put him to sleep. I restrained the weak dog as the veterinarian pushed the needle into his soft fur. The needle was full of a medication that would make him fall asleep and never wake up. The dog slowly slummped down and never got back up again. His owners cried loudly as if it had been their child, but I wasn't concerned about them. I was focused on the doctor and these death-bringing needles he kept in the back of the clinic.
Peter and I attended Patrick and Andy's funerals. The both of them were closed caskets; the car crash was very severe. The coroner says they died before they could even realize what had happened which is a good thing I guess. Peter didn't cry anymore after the night he found out but I can tell he's still shaken by it. Joe didn't seem half as upset as Peter was. Peter was always very sensitive and emotional I guess that is was drew me to him and what eventually killed him. It was a month or so after the funeral that Peter and I welcomed our baby girl into the world. We named her Andi Pat Wentz as a reminder of Pete's dear friends and band mates. "She looks like my mom" I recall Peter uttering as he held her for the first time. We liked to joke that Andi was the only girl Peter ever loved with his whole heart. It was true, from the moment he laid eyes on that tiny girl he was entranced. Andi was the perfect baby so full of life yet quiet. She hardly ever cried. Still it was hard having to care for her and Peter. At times it seemed like Andi was more mature than Peter was. He was a needy person and the biggest drama queen in the world but I loved him.
Flip and Carol came over to see the baby when she was about six weeks old. From the moment Carol cradled her in her arms I knew it was a perfect fit. Andi was the most precious thing in my world but she wasn't meant for me. Carol and Flip had been looking to adopt after they found out Flip couldn't have children of his own. The time was wrong for Peter and me but it was oh so right for them. I pulled Peter into the kitchen and explained to him my thoughts "I think we should give up Andi. We are both complete messes. You're an emotional wreck. We're not fit to be parents. Flip and Carol have been thinking about adopting a baby. If they adopt Andi we'll know she's in good hands." Peter stared into the living room where Carol and Flip sat with Andi. Andi stared as Flip made silly faces at her. Peter wiped a single tear from his delicate cheek then said, "You're right. They deserve her more than we do."
Peter and I made the hardest decision of our lives, or rather second hardest. We gave our only child away to our best friends. Our perfect little Andi was in good hands. Flip and Carol loved her more than anything. I went back to work at the veterinary clinic and Peter recorded a few songs solo but things weren't the same after the tragically wonderful deaths of Patrick and Andy. It was working at that clinic that I decided my method of killing Peter. A middle-aged couple had brought an ancient cancer plagued cocker spaniel. The poor thing was nearly twenty years old. He had long since lost his sight and now suffered from leukemia. There was nothing we could do but put him to sleep. I restrained the weak dog as the veterinarian pushed the needle into his soft fur. The needle was full of a medication that would make him fall asleep and never wake up. The dog slowly slummped down and never got back up again. His owners cried loudly as if it had been their child, but I wasn't concerned about them. I was focused on the doctor and these death-bringing needles he kept in the back of the clinic.
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