Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Her better half

She's a super freak

by ACeDeBbie 2 reviews

Phebe just got started and Mrs. Wentz smells danger.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst, Drama, Horror - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2007-06-01 - Updated: 2007-06-01 - 1743 words

A/N: Reviews would be massively appreciated. I'll even make you a t-shirt!


Chapter 3: She's a super freak

About a week later Pete is surfing the web on his laptop. It is time for another update on his numerous journals.

I hope you're enjoying life as much as I do right now. Everything is going great, this is what I've always wanted. Thanks for making it happen.

Just reminding you that we added a show to our schedule yesterday (see news section). Hope to see a lot of your pretty faces out there. Bring friends, have a good time.

I constantly ask myself: Could she be my constant?

Currently listening to: The Alkaline Trio & The Get Up Kids

Currently obsessed with: you


Scrolling down the page he finds 50 notes from the same nickname (/phebepeep/), all from yesterday. They've been submitted only seconds apart and are therefore hardly interspersed with messages from other users.

Hey, Pete! Hope you update your journal soon. I check every day!

More like a couple of times every day. ;)

What are you doing today? I'm bored.

Can't wait to see you at the show!

I've been listening to "Sugar, We're going down" on repeat for almost an hour today. Those are your best lyrics, Pete!

Is this more than you bargained for yet/ Oh, don't mind me, I'm watching you two from the closet/ Wishing to be the friction in your jeans/ Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be HER?

Ha ha, are you a voyeur, Pete? I like watching people, too!

Pete shakes his head as he skims through the lot. The other notes are of the same form.

A little bit down the page other users started telling her to stop bothering him. Pete doesn't care about your life story! Stop bothering him, bitch! Get a life! What, are you like 12?!

I'm not 12, YOU bitch! I'm a fully grown woman, you moron! Fuck off!

defended herself. The message is followed by another one asking Pete if he feels bothered by her messages.

More fans calling her names and telling her to stop spamming his page.

More vindications from Phebe.

I gotta go now, Pete. But sent you another package! It's something special. :) Love you!

"Poor kid," Peter mutters. He always ignores any fights on all the Fall Out Boy websites, especially those among the boardies. There's no point in telling the kids to stop behaving like silly teenagers. Mainly because they are silly teenagers. But sometimes their little beefs are getting out of hand. Personal defamations and threats which are mostly empty, but still.

What does upset him the most is that some fans think they have more of a claim on him than others. Either because they have been fans "from day one" or because they "love" him so much or because they have ALL the merchandise. And they love Clandestine Industries. And all the Decaydance bands.

However, this Phebe kid is obviously slightly delusional. Or maybe she's just really mentally handicapped.

At this time the cologne and the previous messages from her have been erased from Pete's memory. With the thousands of names, who can keep up? He gets gifts through the mail on almost a daily basis. Lots of them from Phoebes, perhaps Phebes too.

Pete checks his e-mail accounts. First the two ones known to fans.

"Good God," he groans.

Joe, who has sat down a few feet away and has turned on the TV, glances at his friend, "What's up?"

"Just 653 new e-mails in my inbox..." the bassist replies.

Joe shrugs, "What else is new, Mr. Popular..."

"Not now, I'm not in the mood," Pete logs off and checks the first of his three private e-mail addresses. He constantly changes them because somehow they always leak to the fan base. Except for the one that he only gave to his family and 10 closest of friends.

"Ha!" the man cries and grins. "Travis sent me porn links again."

"Well, don't forget to forward them to me," Joe doesn't avert his eyes from the TV screen.

Pete's phone goes off, playing the original "Break my Stride" by Matthew Wilder from 83/ 84.

Joe smirks, "Your mommy..."

All of the bassist's band mates know Mrs. Wentz' personalized ring tone.

Pete smirks back and points at himself, "You can't touch this, Joe."

He flips open his sidekick, "Yo."

"Must you always 'yo' me?" replies an amused female voice.

"Hey, Mom," the man answers warmly.

Joe leaves the room to give his friend more privacy. And to check out those links Travis sent in privacy.

After son and mother have caught up on what's been going on in their (mostly Pete's) lives lately, Mrs. Wentz remembers what she also wanted to tell him.

"Oh, Pete, before I forget: Something really weird came in the mail today..."

The man has wandered from his spot at the table to the fridge in the adjacent kitchen. He pulls open the door and grabs a bottle of water.

After a loud gulping sound he replies, "What's that?"

"The other day... there came about 20 fan letters for you."

Pete waits a few seconds. Then he prods her, "Aaand?"

"Well, they were all from the same girl. Sent on the same date."

In the meantime Pete has walked over to the mirror and is fixing his hair with both hands, the phone is squeezed between his shoulder and cheek. "Okay..."

"There's also a package from her for you."

He fails to see what's so special about this. People have been drowning his parents with letters and parcels for months. Heck, years.

As he doesn't reply she sighs, "I just think it's a little weird is all. Maybe I am overreacting..."

"Listen, Mom. Don't worry about it, okay? Some girls obsesses over me a bit, that's all," he tries to soothe her. Why is she so bothered by this? More than one letter has probably arrived form the same person at his or his parents' places several times. He can't recall one instance of that right now, but that doesn't mean that it hasn't happened before. It just means that he can't remember all the names and letter.

"I don't know, Peter. I have a bad feeling about this," Mrs. Wentz digs in her heels.

"I was about to come see you anyway. I'll just come over tomorrow or the day after tomorrow and have a look at the letters, okay?"

It's settled and Pete says good-bye. He turns around, in search for his laptop. He puts Jew and Jew together and fishes for his sidekick in his jeans instead. He goes back to his private e-mail account. The one reserved for family and friends.

Two e-mails.

One from his brother. What makes the dude think he cares for discussion forums about his hair?

One from...

"Phebe Peeps," Pete reads out loud. Isn't that the girl who spammed his web page?

He opens it:

Dear Petey!

I just wanted to wish you a great day! Let me know if you got my gift and the letter(s)!

Love you - Phebs

P.S.: I know it's not your fault but a lot of your fans are really rude. (Check out your website at: ...) You should tell them to respect other people.

He's irriated. So far no fan has managed to get this e-mail address. And what's with this Phebe kid? The e-mail dates back to yesterday, when she wrote all those notes on his page.


I know that letters get lost a lot so I sent this a couple of times to make sure you really get it. (I hope that doesn't freak you out. I'm not a freak or anything.)
It's important that you get this letter because I have to tell you that you are very special to me.
Without you I'd be nothing. You've saved me more than once.
You have no idea how your lyrics have touched me. I have been there.

Oh, and THANK YOU so much for your private message about the cologne!!! I was so happy when I saw that you wrote me back!
I think it's so incredibly noble of you that you invest so much time in keeping in touch with your fans.

Because I love you so much I sent you another gift! (I hope you got it. I could only send it once because I made it myself.)
It's a t-shirt.
You have no idea how much it would mean to me if you wore it to the show on ... at ....

Your fan forever - Phebe

It's the same letter. 20 times the same letter, handwritten.

"She worried that the letter would get lost so she sent it a couple of times," Pete explains to his mother who is sitting opposite of him at the dinner table.

The man puts down the yellow note pad paper. Lays it on top of the other 19.

Mrs. Wentz frowns.

"Relax, Mom. She's not a threat or anything..."

"May I?" the woman points at the pile of yellow sheets.

"Knock yourself out."

Seconds later Mrs. Wentz shouts, "Aha!"

Pete looks up from his cup of coffee.

"She says she's NOT a freak!" his mother points out triumphantly.

Her son looks puzzled.

"Crazy people don't realize that they're crazy, Pete," she explains. "By saying she is not a freak she practically admits that she is one."

"Sure, Mom..." he smirks. Well, she definitely is some kind of freak. But a harmless one. "I think she's probably a bit... special. She left some odd messages on one of the websites I go to."

"What? She has contacted you before?"

Big mistake. He shouldn't have mentioned that.

"She's just a fan, Mom. I'll check out that package now."

"Be careful, Pete. I really have a bad feeling about all of this," she whines.

It's a t-shirt. And a note:


I made this just for you. Fingers crossed you like it!
If you wore it at the show on ..., that would mean everything to me!

Love, Phebe

"God, that's ugly," Mrs. Wentz shakes her head.

Pete nods. Bright yellow with grey stripes. The light green print on it says: Pete Wentz. Profession: Being awesome.

He pulls it over his head and looks at his mother. She starts roaring with laughter. So she may have overreacted. This girl is just dangerous when it comes to fashion sense.

"Yeah, I think not..." Pete grunts amused and takes it off again.
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