Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > True Light in the Night
Chapter 2
~Patrick's POV~
I slowly descend the staircase into the darkness below, each step tearing me further away from reality as my mind begins to wander. Every creak of the floorboards cries in time with the beating of my heavy heart, weighed down by three months of regret. Three months, is that all it's been? The past three months seem an eternity in my mind, filled with restless days and endless nights. Looking back now, I realize how precious the old times were. The good old days when it was just us, a bunch of wise-ass kids living gig to gig, barely getting by and yet...those were the days. Those days are gone now, a lifetime long since past. They seem like someone else's life now, looking in the mirror now I can barely recognize myself. I'd give anything to have those days back again, back when... It's just not fair. We were never meant for this, this train-wreck that we call a life. I'd do anything, give anything to take back that night, that one moment that changed the course of our lives forever...
Flashback
We are all crammed in a dark, dank, little room that's barely bigger than a closet, but we were all smiles nonetheless having just finished playing a packed little venue for our local die-hard fanbase. Nothing gave me a high like seeing all those bright faces screaming in time with his voice, as they hung on every word and their hearts beat in time with every line. On the stage I felt truly alive, as my head buzzed with courage and complete terror simultaneously before the mass of prying eyes. I was a different person as everyone focused their attention on me, like I was the commander of my own army clad in hoodies and converse.
I walk over to the small dingy sofa in the corner and collapse onto it, exhausted and yet exhilarated with the performance. I rest my head against the cushion and close my eyes, just soaking up the brief moment of triumph before having to snap back to reality. We definitely had something going here, I mean we weren't exactly qualified rock stars yet, but we had potential. Besides I could care less how many people came to shows, as long as they cared about the music. I'd rather play for one true fan that had connected with the music than play an arena for a fanbase interested only in the fad. We got the occasional gig and had created a buzz among the Chicago music scene, but we just needed a chance to break through and show them what we could really accomplish. We could be great, but things like that don't happen everyday. Oh well, a guy can dream right?
"Damn Trick, you must be spent. You were really rockin out there tonight," Pete says as he playfully tosses me a towel. Wiping beads of sweat from my glistening face, my eyes fall on Pete as he was meant to be. Just this crazy kid doing what he loves, no matter how many critics try to beat him into submission. Bleeding his heart out onto paper for me to sing. I don't think I ever told him how honored I was to be the voice of his inner demons and dreams, but somehow I think he knows. I watch as he packs up his gear with a huge grin plastered on his face, that trademark smirk that made girls swoon and go weak at the knees. It was annoying at times, but I can't really blame them. I mean Pete was quite the catch. With his strong slender frame, natural boyish charm, and captivatingly dark eyes, I wouldn't be surprised if he got a career in modeling someday. But Pete was more than just a sexy stage jockey, Pete was special, Pete was...well...Pete. I've honestly never met anyone else like him, and I don't think I ever will. At times he would torture himself, trapped in thought with no release, but then he could turn around and inspire a smile in the darkest circumstances. He was the one person I felt I could tell anything without any remorse. He was always there for me, good or bad to lend a helping hand. Pete was an enigma, our off-centered frontman, the backbone that kept us all together.
My train of thought is broken by the sound of the crowd chanting for more that enters the room as the club manager walks in enthusiastically.
"Great set guys! I haven't seen a crowd this excited in a long time. How'd you like to do a few more shows for me this week?" He says after closing the door to be heard over the cheers from the floor.
"Really!?! That'd be great!" Joe exclaims, jumping out of his seat at the news. We hadn't had a real steady gig like this yet; maybe this is just what we needed to establish a strong reputation. Of course we were all bursting with excitement, but we didn't want to let him know how desperate we were. Andy manages a loud cough as if to tell Joe to shut up before we blew this opportunity by letting him know how inexperienced we were.
Catching on, Joe doubles back and states in his best attempt at a business-like manner "...I mean...we might be able to fit you in somewhere. Lots of business you know, we'll have to check our schedule. We'll have our people call your people." Really smooth, Joe. I try my best to resist the urge to laugh as listened to his bluff. Our "people" constituted mainly of our friend Dirty and his two-way, that's the level of professionalism we've peaked at at the moment.
"Well of course I'd be willing to give you a little extra incentive for going through the trouble" the manager states as he begins folding bills from his wallet.
Jumping up again Joe exclaims "Well I think a spot just opened up" as he snatches the bills out of his hand.
~Patrick's POV~
I slowly descend the staircase into the darkness below, each step tearing me further away from reality as my mind begins to wander. Every creak of the floorboards cries in time with the beating of my heavy heart, weighed down by three months of regret. Three months, is that all it's been? The past three months seem an eternity in my mind, filled with restless days and endless nights. Looking back now, I realize how precious the old times were. The good old days when it was just us, a bunch of wise-ass kids living gig to gig, barely getting by and yet...those were the days. Those days are gone now, a lifetime long since past. They seem like someone else's life now, looking in the mirror now I can barely recognize myself. I'd give anything to have those days back again, back when... It's just not fair. We were never meant for this, this train-wreck that we call a life. I'd do anything, give anything to take back that night, that one moment that changed the course of our lives forever...
Flashback
We are all crammed in a dark, dank, little room that's barely bigger than a closet, but we were all smiles nonetheless having just finished playing a packed little venue for our local die-hard fanbase. Nothing gave me a high like seeing all those bright faces screaming in time with his voice, as they hung on every word and their hearts beat in time with every line. On the stage I felt truly alive, as my head buzzed with courage and complete terror simultaneously before the mass of prying eyes. I was a different person as everyone focused their attention on me, like I was the commander of my own army clad in hoodies and converse.
I walk over to the small dingy sofa in the corner and collapse onto it, exhausted and yet exhilarated with the performance. I rest my head against the cushion and close my eyes, just soaking up the brief moment of triumph before having to snap back to reality. We definitely had something going here, I mean we weren't exactly qualified rock stars yet, but we had potential. Besides I could care less how many people came to shows, as long as they cared about the music. I'd rather play for one true fan that had connected with the music than play an arena for a fanbase interested only in the fad. We got the occasional gig and had created a buzz among the Chicago music scene, but we just needed a chance to break through and show them what we could really accomplish. We could be great, but things like that don't happen everyday. Oh well, a guy can dream right?
"Damn Trick, you must be spent. You were really rockin out there tonight," Pete says as he playfully tosses me a towel. Wiping beads of sweat from my glistening face, my eyes fall on Pete as he was meant to be. Just this crazy kid doing what he loves, no matter how many critics try to beat him into submission. Bleeding his heart out onto paper for me to sing. I don't think I ever told him how honored I was to be the voice of his inner demons and dreams, but somehow I think he knows. I watch as he packs up his gear with a huge grin plastered on his face, that trademark smirk that made girls swoon and go weak at the knees. It was annoying at times, but I can't really blame them. I mean Pete was quite the catch. With his strong slender frame, natural boyish charm, and captivatingly dark eyes, I wouldn't be surprised if he got a career in modeling someday. But Pete was more than just a sexy stage jockey, Pete was special, Pete was...well...Pete. I've honestly never met anyone else like him, and I don't think I ever will. At times he would torture himself, trapped in thought with no release, but then he could turn around and inspire a smile in the darkest circumstances. He was the one person I felt I could tell anything without any remorse. He was always there for me, good or bad to lend a helping hand. Pete was an enigma, our off-centered frontman, the backbone that kept us all together.
My train of thought is broken by the sound of the crowd chanting for more that enters the room as the club manager walks in enthusiastically.
"Great set guys! I haven't seen a crowd this excited in a long time. How'd you like to do a few more shows for me this week?" He says after closing the door to be heard over the cheers from the floor.
"Really!?! That'd be great!" Joe exclaims, jumping out of his seat at the news. We hadn't had a real steady gig like this yet; maybe this is just what we needed to establish a strong reputation. Of course we were all bursting with excitement, but we didn't want to let him know how desperate we were. Andy manages a loud cough as if to tell Joe to shut up before we blew this opportunity by letting him know how inexperienced we were.
Catching on, Joe doubles back and states in his best attempt at a business-like manner "...I mean...we might be able to fit you in somewhere. Lots of business you know, we'll have to check our schedule. We'll have our people call your people." Really smooth, Joe. I try my best to resist the urge to laugh as listened to his bluff. Our "people" constituted mainly of our friend Dirty and his two-way, that's the level of professionalism we've peaked at at the moment.
"Well of course I'd be willing to give you a little extra incentive for going through the trouble" the manager states as he begins folding bills from his wallet.
Jumping up again Joe exclaims "Well I think a spot just opened up" as he snatches the bills out of his hand.
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