Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Her better half

Getting the picture

by ACeDeBbie 3 reviews

Kirsh starts a list of suspects and Phebe hits Pete where it really hurts.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst, Drama, Horror - Warnings: [!] [?] - Published: 2007-06-17 - Updated: 2007-06-17 - 1714 words

Chapter 10: Getting the picture

Stump - envy
fan girl in front row - obsession
Michael Borrows - former friend, revenge
? (Hurley couldn't remember first name) Siegfried - former friend, revenge
Moranne Sommer - Wentz's current girlfriend, motive unclear

Kirsh is staring at the page of her notebook. These are the suspects. She would take anyone with even the slightest little possibility of a motive into account.

Stump reacted irriated when I asked him if he minded that Wentz was posing as the frontman. He may think that he could cover up is true feelings but he is wrong. I noticed the angry gleam in his eyes, how he had to pull himself together not to form fists. Envy makes humans do things that they never thought they'd be capable of.

The fan girl Trohman mentioned would definitely fit the stalker's profile the best, but like Dr. Morley pointed out, the culprit could be somebody else, just pretending to be an obsessed teenage girl.

She would confront Pete with the names Burrows and Siegfried and see what he's got to say about them. As for Moranne, it wasn't so much that Patrick said that he didn't think she was 'good' for him. When the officer surprised her in her boyfriend's house, she's had a fishy feeling about her right from the start. The model was enraged and a few minutes later she was the epitome of calm- and collectedness.

If Kirsh thought about it, she herself would not have forgiven a stranger if they had pulled a gun on her like she did. Especially not if she wasn't guilty of anything. Sommer practically insisted I stay. Why? Does she feel that confident?

Then again the young woman is gone for a week - officially at least - so she didn't have to fear being monitored by her. She could have left the internet message from any computer in Italy. If she really was in Italy.

The officer makes a quick phone call to Maxwell and forwards the names and all the details that she gained from her conversations with Pete's bandmates. It remains in the hands of her colleagues at the station to follow these leads and investigate further. I am trapped with the Bossy Bassist.

"What's that?" Pete peeks over her shoulder.

Kirsh automatically slams shut her notebook, "Classified police work."

He grins sarcastically, "And it would be stupid to inform me of your suspicions because I could actually be of help, considering that this whole thing is about me."

"I don't want to burden you more than necessary, Mr. Wentz. There's enough stress on you without me babbling about possible suspects that turn out to be innocent... Speaking of which, you seem quite happy compared to your emotional state when you found those messages online."

Pete just talked to Moe, she always knows how to cheer him up. She called him in response to a little something he had sent her via his sidekick. He mentioned the threat he had received online. Moranne said that she didn't think anything bad could happen to him while Kirsh was around. Why she had so much confidence in the woman who had aimed a gun at her head was a mystery to him. But his girlfriend not being sick with worry made him relax too. Quickly they changed the topic and discussed more private matters between lovers.

24 hours later and no new notes from the stalker, Pete is spread out on his bed with his laptop in front of him. Checking his e-mail accounts, he dreads finding a new message from Phebe but sighs in relief as this fear appears to be needless.

So her bark is worse than her bite. Stupid kid.

Half a minute later his pupils widen with incredulousness at the sight on his screen. There, on one of his profil pages, are the pictures he sent Moe a day ago. Private pictures. Pictures that were meant for nobody but his girlfriend.

He hits refresh.

His eyes are not playing a trick on him, this is really true.

"FUCK!" he yells out.

There are already a few dozen comments referring to the pictures, mostly approving ones, but what does he care about them right now?

While he's logging in to the other profile pages he's got on different community network websites, Kirsh jumps up from the recliner chair in her room where she was reading, grabs her gun from the bedside table and sprints towards his room. She's heard him cussing. Well, that boy cusses a lot. But it was loud and it sounded seriously distressed.

Without knocking she bursts through his door; the gun, not cocked, but firmly in her grip.

Pete jerks up on his bed and then quickly slams the laptop shut.

"What the HELL do you come storming in my room without knocking or anything for?! And with the gun pulled?!"

In the meantime Kirsh has expertly let her eyes roam the room, making sure there's no intruder. "What happened?" she asks and puts the weapon in its holster.

The man's face reflects anger and shock. He stays silent.

"I heard you scream..."

I have to tell her. This is Phebe's work, I just know it. If only it wasn't so embarrassing...

"Another internet message?" the officer nods at the laptop in front of Pete on the mattress.

"Not quite," he answers vaguely, his voice unexpectedly soft. His features relax and eventually display disappointment.

Kirsh feels tempted to give him a piece of her mind; be the fuck explicit, asshole. But this is not the time and place. On duty it's never the time and place. It hasn't taken her too long to see that it was exactly this prominent feature of his, his temperament, his disposition to reacting overly emotionally, that she shared with him. It was the first time in her life that she's met somebody who was such a mirror when it comes to this attribute.

Everytime Pete reacted reluctant towards her protecting him she wanted to slap him in the face. His emotionally-charged behavior made her boil on the inside.

I'm just like that.

I can't believe I'm like that. No wonder Maxwell complains. No wonder I'm labeled 'difficult to deal with' at the station.

Awareness is the first step towards betterment; but it's still a hard and windy road.

The woman collects herself and makes a step towards the bed, "Listen, Mr. Wentz, you know I want to help you. I want to catch this... bastard as much as you want to. Tell me what's going on."

"Can't you... can I talk to a male officer about this?"

What a cryptic reply.

"Um," she starts but doesn't really know how to carry on. "When I'm in this uniform - well figuratively speaking," she's in civil clothes, jeans, a t-shirt, a jacket, "I'm pretty much asexual. At least I want others to regard me as that."

"Ok, but I'm not going to show it to you..." he draws a deep breath.

The detective fights back the urge to roll her eyes and slam her the palm of her hand onto the mattress. We're almost there, almost. She nods instead and tries to put on an understanding expression.

"There's pictures on my websites. Pictures I took of myself and that weren't meant for public eyes. And they've been made public. I know it was her."

"Where did you keep those pictures?"

"I had them on my phone. I mean, I still have them on my phone."

"Who's got access to your phone?"

He sighs frustratedly, "No-one... I mean, I guess every now and then I let it lie around at the studio or the practice room or here... but that doesn't even matter now because I only took them yesterday and, as you know, I didn't leave the house between then and now and nobody came to visit."

Krish doesn't really know what to make of this whole situation. What kind of pictures did he take of himself and if they're that humiliating, why did he take them in the first place? Obviously they don't have that much in common after all. What a relief.

She sits down next to him, he grips the laptop tighter.

"So, the only person in rightful possession of these photos is you, on that cell phone?"

Pete skews his lips to the left side, he mumbles something incomprehensible, knowing fully well that she will make him repeat it louder.

"I didn't quite catch that," the women points out, patiently.

"I said I sent them to my girlfriend yesterday evening."

I hope she's not going to suspect Moe again now.

"And, of course, you didn't post them online anywhere yourself?"

"Hell, no."

Both stay quiet for a few moments.

"Not only did she gain access to my cell, she also cracked the passwords of my profile pages," the man thinks aloud.

"Could somebody have taken them from Ms. Sommer's phone?" Kirsh asks.

Right! That's it. That's how it happened!

"I don't know," Pete says. "But I guess it's possible. I know for sure that she's got it lying around places without keeping an eye on it a lot." Which probably should have make me think twice about sending her the pics.

"Did Phebe admit to being responsible for this?" Kirsh asks.

"Not one word, at least not in my e-mail or on the pages where she put the photos."

The detective decides to forward the information to the station. She sends an e-mail with the links and describes the situation. Even if she's just a layperson when it comes to IT, her doubts that the action can be backtracked to the culprit are legitimate.

Kirsh is not even interested in what kind of pictures they are. Perhaps she will stumble across them in the course of this assignment, but for now, she rather not see them.

"You're not thinking Moe did this, are you?" Pete wants to know. He sounds rather intimidated than protective of his girlfriend.

"All I can say at this point is that you shouldn't trust anyone, Pete," Kirsh replies. "For all you know, I could be the stalker. It could be anyone. Not to quote an unrealistic and clichéd TV show but: Trust no-one."

_ _ _

A/N: Just for the record: I love The X-Files.
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