Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Her better half

Spotlight and shadows

by ACeDeBbie 2 reviews

At the show, Phebe's there. Why isn't Pete wearing her t-shirt? The inner workings of Phebe.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst, Drama, Horror - Warnings: [!] [?] - Published: 2007-06-03 - Updated: 2007-06-03 - 1605 words

Chapter 4: Spotlight and shadows

Pete's in his element. The stage is his territory.

Sure, Patrick is the center of attraction during the songs but the change-overs and intermissions, that's when the spotlight is on him. He's a natural, he's just not the kind to get tongue-tied when thousands of eyes are on him.

He's already climbed the pillar on the right side of the stage, hung upside down like a monkey.

"Peter, I love you!"


"Peter Pan!"

"Sounds like you're having as much of a good time as we are," the bassist's voice reverberates through the venue. He grabs the mic off of the stand and glances at Patrick and Joe.

The guitarists walk over to the left side of the stage where a roadie awaites with two instruments that are exchanged for their current ones.

Pete's in charge of keeping the crowd entertained. And the crowd loves it.

"So, the other day," he makes a few steps towards the edge of the stage and the first 20 rows start screaming even louder, countless hands are stretching out towards him.

It feels so good.

"The other day I was surfing the web and I read this rumor about me and Missy Schulz..."

The mass boos and whistles furiously at the name of the shooting star actress.

Pete chuckles and then waves his hand in the air, "It's complete BS!"

The mass squeals. Their Pete is not dating that bitch.

Thank God, that Schulz slut is not dating her Pete. Phebe is there. But why is Pete not wearing her t-shirt? Didn't he get it?

"Yeah," the man continues after the first wave of cheers subsides, "we were just exchanging hair styling tips."

Adjusting his guitar strap, Patrick giggles softly and shakes his head.

"Now, do you wanna hear another song maybe?" Pete checks that Joe's ready too.

The crowd screams its lungs out.

"Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentleman..." Patrick beings and is joined by the fans immediately.

Pete claps his hands over his head, lip-syncing Patrick's lines. Then he puts his hands to his bass and fills the air with deep spaced out notes.

Right after the first song he spied the short blond girl in the second row. She's been up front at every of the last ten shows or so. She must have a fighter's strength to always be able to make it to the edge of the stage.

Moe is not watching from backstage tonight but even if she was Pete would not be having a guilty conscience because he is flirting with another woman. A) It's a fan and it's essential that he as a band member fulfills what is expect of him. Nothing comes easy in this business. (And there's worse duties than flirting with a female.) B) He may be in a relationship but that doesn't make him blind and dumb. This blond girl in her dark skinny jeans and tight tank top is a rather attractive specimen of her sex. Pete knows that Moe uses her charms on the male colleagues and clients during her model jobs as well. They've agreed on clear boundaries, what's ok and what's not, and flirting, as long as it remains on a non-physical level, is perfectly fine with either of them.

The bassist fixes her with his pupils and twists his lips into a rascalish grin as she notices it and smiles.

Why isn't he wearing my t-shirt? Why isn't he wearing my t-shirt?

The blond giggles as Pete pulls a face while he's revolving around his own axis. He stops and takes another glance at her. The times are over that a pretty face made him forget what note to hit next. His fingers move automatically, he just thinks of the song and his body does the rest on autopilot. This leaves more capacity for other things.

The bassist runs towards the edge of the stage again and again the mass goes wild.

Joe's spinning in circles around himself, Patrick's bringing the song to an end behind his microphone in the middle of the stage, to the left side of the lead guitarist. Andy is most definitely head-banging his brains out while beating the living hell out of his drums and hi-hats.

Pete's up front, facing the crowd. Teenage girls gone wild. Smiling.

The blond is all smiles, as wide as him.

He looks at her for a second, then into the center of the mass. The song's over.

"Good night, lovelies!"

Phebe doesn't have a lot of patience. She has a good deal of perseverance when it comes to Peter, but that doesn't change the fact that she's a time bomb and her fuse is generally short.

Phebe's life is very different from that of other people her age. She doesn't go out a lot, she prefers being on her own. If no-one wants to spend time with her she won't go begging. She's better than that.

But then there's Pete.

I come out here, just for him, and he's not wearing my t-shirt. Why?

Phebe doesn't remember her parents. All she can remember is that she's always been on her own. The question as to why doesn't present itself as interesting enough to her to pursue it any further.

Phebe doesn't think it's too goddamn much to ask to put on a freaking t-shirt that a fan has made just you.

They've tried to keep her away from him but you just can't impede fate. It's fate, they are meant to be together. They BELONG together. Poor Pete doesn't seem to know it yet, but she's there to help him. She'd do anything for him.

Phebe may have never had a serious intimate relationship with anybody else but that doesn't mean that she doesn't know what love is when she feels it. She realizes that it's more difficult for an introvert and shy person like herself to get others to notice her. To see how loveable she really is.

Phebe's willing to work really hard to make Pete see that they need to be together. And there has been progress. Hasn't he sent her that private message about the cologne? He must have a feeling that she's more than just an ordinary fan.

Phebe doesn't love Pete for his fame or money. Phebe is not a gold-digging whore.

She just knows that he is the only one who could ever satisfy her desires. No-one but Pete Wentz. Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. God, how that sounds! It makes her shudder.

Nobody else could be as perfect as him. Nobody else has that cute smile, has those gorgeous big brown eyes. The adorable giggle. The brains. The body. Everything.

Everything about Pete Wentz is perfect.

Why he wouln't wear her t-shirt at the show is a mystery to Phebe. He must have surely gotten it. She knows he wears shirts with his name on them. It's one of the things she loves so much about him: Pete can poke fun at himself.

He just doesn't know how wonderful he is. But she will tell him. She will help him. Nobody else can love him like she does, no-one else can help him like she can.

Pete hasn't replied to the e-mail Phebe sent to his private account. If she doesn't get a reaction from him, he hopes, she will think that she had a wrong e-mail address. Or that he doesn't give a rat's ass about her, which is basically the truth.

It's not that he's not grateful, it's not that he doesn't appreciate or "love" the fans but there's lines that nobody is supposed to cross. Of course, he has to keep in mind that most of the fans are kids, not even aware of the stress that they can cause when let loose on one single person (namely himself).

He's still pissed off that the e-mail address has leaked. Let's hope that she's the only one who's got it. Somehow she doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would like to share that kind of information with anybody else.

No, she won't.

She won't tell anybody else. But she also won't let go:

I just got home from the show and I am very disappointed that you didn't wear my t-shirt! :*(
Didn't you get it? I made it just for you!
Please write back!

Pete recalls the horrible t-shirt. He forgot that she wanted him to wear it at yesterday's show. Not that he would have if he had remembered.

Let's try it the nice and friendly way, maybe she'll understand. Pete decides to reply and be honest:

Dear Phebe,

I got your t-shirt and the letters and I want to thank you very much. That was very thoughtful of you. The thing is that I don't wear what others tell me to. I know you'll understand. Please, don't be offended.

Also, could you please stop sending me messages to this e-mail address? It's actually my private one. I'm not even going to ask you how you got it. ;) Feel free to send e-mails to these addresses anytime though: ...


By now he's quite positive that Phebe is mentally challenged. Poor kid. He hopes he didn't hurt her feelings but he's got a right to privacy like everybody else. He's not too hopeful that she won't send another e-mail to this address but if she does he'll just change it.

It's time to pick up Moranne. He's young, he wants fun. He can worry later. This is nothing to worry about. It's not a big thing. Silly Mom.
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