Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Master of the Game.

Let This Go

by ClandestineUnited 3 reviews

Once a whore, you're nothing more, I'm sorry that'll never change.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Published: 2007-06-16 - Updated: 2007-06-16 - 2056 words

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." Patrick repeated over and over as he paced the room.
"Ohhhh, God." He groaned and leant against the kitchen counter, turning around and banging his head off it. Danielle laughed at the sight of her father being silly, and Patrick turned around.
"Oh, God, your daddy's such a bad man." He whispered, leaning over the gate and then sitting down in front of it, leaning his head against the metal bars. He breathed out, his heart beating faster as he replayed what had just happened in his head. He was startled when something warm touched his nose, and opened his eyes to see Danielle with her hand on his nose. He held her arm and watched her.
"I'm so horrible. What's Pete going to..." He broke off and groaned again.
He rummaged in his pocket for his cell phone and dialed the number, Josh now awake and making his way over to his dad.
"Joe, I need a favor. If you're back from the 'hospital', that is."
"Oh, Patrick. I nearly died!"
"Save it, Joe, nice try, I know what you guys were trying to do."
"Did it work?"
Patrick ignored him and carried on quickly.
"Joe, I need a huge favor. I need you to come round and look after the kids for a second."
"By second you mean hours so you can go score with Amanda, right?"
"Wrong. Look, Joe, please just do it, alright?"
"Fine." Joe sighed. "I'll be there in ten."

Patrick waited nervously for Joe to arrive and when he did, he barely spoke to him, just shot out of the door yelling 'thank you'. He then drove around to Pete's house, reciting in his head what he had to say. He had to tell Pete, he couldn't not tell him. But he was scared to death of what it would do to Pete and Jenny's relationship. Or his and Pete's, for that matter.
When he got there he knocked on Pete's door and waited for an answer. A blurred figure approached the door and it opened to reveal Jenny standing in front of him, her hair falling about her shoulders and her mascara smudged around her eyes.
"Is Pete here?" Patrick asked, unable to make eye contact with her. He didn't wait for a reply, but walked straight into Pete's living room to find him sitting on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands. A picture frame that once held a photo of him and Jenny was smashed against the carpet, the glass sprinkled around Pete's feet and glittering in the light. Patrick swallowed and stepped into his view.
Pete looked up and stood up, his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed.
"You." He hissed, and before Patrick could open his mouth or register the thunderous anger that clouded Pete's eyes, Pete lunged at him and pushed him against the wall, his hands on his shoulders, pinning him against the paper, slowly moving up to his neck.
"Pete, I can explain."
"You! You son of a bitch. It was you all along. And you had the cheek to sit there and ask me if I would confront her. You... and her... oh God." Pete choked, his voice breaking with resentment.
"Pete..." Patrick began as Pete started to tighten his grip on his neck. Pete couldn't believe it. There was literally no one he could trust. He was so sick of everyone letting him down, everything that made him look bad or prevented him from being happy.
"I trusted you with my life. I really, really did. And you fucked it up. Why the fuck didn't you tell me? After what you've been through it too! Your girlfriend fucking around tore you up, and now it's the same with me! I'm just waiting for Jenny to tell me she's pregnant and it might be mine or yours! You're the Danny in my life, Patrick."
Patrick tried to push him away but his blood circulation in his arms and face were rapidly fading. He tried to speak but his throat felt like it was being stepped on and jumped upon. He couldn't believe Pete, he couldn't believe Pete would throw that back in his face like that, so casually, like he was a hypochondria.
"I'm no Danny." Patrick mumbled as best he could. "I know what that can do to someone. I'm not that cruel."
"PETE! LET HIM GO!" Jenny yelled from the doorway. Pete turned around and let go of Patrick, his focus on Jenny. Patrick fell onto the couch and gasped for air, rubbing his neck and wrists.
"Oh, sorry, was I hurting your fuck buddy?"
"Pete, it was never like that." Patrick wheezed, standing up. Pete rounded on him and advanced nearer him.
"Oh, really? Then would you like to tell me what happened?"
"She kissed me! I was out with Amanda, you asshole! Remember? I came home and she was the one that kissed me." Patrick said quickly, feeling like a 5 year old who was telling on his friend to save him getting in trouble. But he wasn't getting out of anything. And that included Pete's friendship. That was meant forever and he knew it. Even Pete knew it.
"Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking asshole." Pete said grabbing his collar and shoving him towards the door. Patrick stared at him, how could he not believe him after all the years they'd known each other and been best friends?
"Pete..." Patrick started, but Pete picked up the TV remote and held it above his head. He threw it and it missed Patrick by seconds, but only because he dodged it. He was soon out the door and driving back home, regretting every single minute he had even looked at Jenny.

Patrick lay down after Joe had left and he had put the kids to bed. Lying on his bed was the only place he could clear his head. Everywhere else seemed too cluttered or had too much to focus on. It had been three hours and he still couldn't get it out of his head. Why did something bad always happen just when everything was going good? Or as good as it could get in a rock star's life. Patrick sighed and the phone rang, he reluctantly picked it up, vowing if it was his mother he would tell her he would call her back.
"Go to your door." Andy's voice said.
"Andy, no offense dude, but I don't wanna talk right now."
"Just do it." Andy said, hanging up the phone. Patrick sighed and got off the bed, walking through the hall to the front door. He unlocked the door, feeling increasingly tired. He opened the door to reveal Pete standing outside, and he quickly slammed it shut as best he could as Pete jammed his foot in the door.
"Patrick, open the door." He whispered.
"Go away, Pete." Patrick replied. He was terrified Pete would come in and attack him, or trash his house and frighten the kids.
"Open the door!" Pete said again, his voice getting louder.
"Get lost!" Patrick said, matching his pitch. Pete threw his weight against his shoulder and burst the door open, causing Patrick to back against the wall as Pete walked in, kicking the door closed behind him.
"Oh, what, you didn't get enough of a fight last time?" Patrick asked from the wall. "Back for more? Get out of my house." he said, and now he was the one unable to look Pete in the eye. He had no right to barge in when he'd just fought with him.
"Patrick, I came here to say sorry." Pete mumbled.
"For abusing me or for not believing me?"
"Both. Jenny told me everything. About how she'd had feelings for you and me for a few months, and what she did was a mistake. I should have believed you from the start - I knew you would never really do anything like that."
"No, I wouldn't. I know what it feels like and it's fucking awful, so I'm not that sick as to do that to someone. Especially my best friend."
"I'm sorry Patrick. I was just hurting. I... I don't know. I'm really sorry."
Patrick nodded.
"I'm sorry Jenny kissed me."
Pete winced, and nodded slowly.
"These things happen."
Patrick froze at the same words he'd used with Pete, when he found Christina had been with another guy. Maybe it was a universal reaction for something to say when you really weren't OK but pretended to be. He watched Pete sit down, lost for words, unable to start a conversation out of embarrassment from the fight they'd had, and most likely because of his hurt at the same time. Patrick knew how that felt, when having conversations about how you felt and all the consolations were a complete waste of time, because when someone betrayed you, nothing anyone could say would help the sick feeling that haunted your for months. He remembered all he wanted to do was lie in bed or listen to his headphones instead of talk to anyone and watch the sympathy that coated their words as they spoke.
He watched the same look appear in Pete's eyes. Where he didn't want to think about Jenny, or listen to her name being said, but at the same time he didn't want to think about anything else but her. Patrick knew, he'd had the same look in his eyes about a year ago.
He sat down next to Pete, who was a ghost of Patrick the year before, freshly broken and barely a man. Pete was hunched over, as if he was in physical pain, and Patrick wanted to do anything to help him.
"Why are women all the same, Patrick?" Pete mumbled into his hands. "All get off on fucking men over."
"I don't know." Patrick said truthfully, shaking his head. "I really don't know."
Pete sighed and looked up.
"I need some space for a while." He said.
"Wha-? You guys didn't break up?"
Pete shrugged.
"I love her, Patrick."
"I loved Christina." Patrick said. "But she fucked around with another guy."
"I know. But we're different, you know that. Plus, she actually slept with another guy. Jenny didn't."
"Oh, stop with the buts and howevers, Patrick. I don't know what's going to happen. I need to figure it out."
"Alright." Patrick said, confused as to how Pete could bear to think of being with a woman after she'd shown betrayal. "Alright, fine."
They sat in silence for a few moments, and Patrick had an idea.
"So where are you going to stay?"
Pete shrugged.
"Oh, no. I don't think so." Patrick argued. "You let me stay with you, now you can stay with me."
"No, Patrick, I can't."
"Why not? I don't charge."
"Our situations were totally different then. You're not alone now."
"So? Unless my kids wake me up in the night and tell me they have a problem with Uncle Peter staying in the next room, I think we're OK."
"Are you sure?" Pete hesitated.
"Sure as sure." Patrick replied. "I know what you're going through, Pete. It's the worst thing in the world but you'll get through it. And I know that sounds cliche and it's the last thing you want to hear but it will get better. Until you sort your head out you're welcome to stay as long as you want. I stayed with you for a while and look at me."
"Yeah, you were a depressing bastard for a few good months."
"Naturally. So will you." Patrick pointed out.
"I'm used to that already." Pete replied.
"So you'll stay?"
"I don't know. I don't want you to feel like you have to look after me, you already have your hands full."
"Both hands." Patrick nodded. "But hey, I'm a dependable person."
Pete looked a him gratefully.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Depending, of course, that you don't mind being woken up at 5 am with a screaming child times two." Patrick laughed.
"Times three, more like. As long as you don't mind me going to bed when it's light out and being generally irritating." Pete replied.
"Come on, I've lived with Joe."
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