Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Her better half
Not the kind of girl who gives up just like that
5 reviewsThe Phebe persona allows a glimpse into her emotional world. DJ Spazz is an ass, Joe keeps a cool head. What's going on with Pete?
4Insightful
Chapter 11: Not the kind of girl who gives up just like that
Phebe.
That's my name and that's what I want them to call me. Not an "immature kid", not an "insecure character". I am me and they should accept me and who I am.
Every single time I showed up, every single time I attracted attention to myself on purpose everyone around me made me feel unwanted.
"There's something wrong with you."
When I was younger I had more energy, I wouldn't give up. I'd try it again and again; I thought eventually they would have to accept me, I'm part of their life. And why don't they want me? But there's just so much patience a person can have and I've worn out mine.
Then they wanted to "help" me, "fix" me.
I don't need fixed.
So I was dragged to a couple of doctors. After a few months they thought they had found the "perfect" one for me. Regularly, maybe even three times a week, I was sat down in an office and had to talk. About anything I wanted, but he really wanted me to talk about myself. How I saw myself, why I thought I was there.
He wanted to get to my childhood. I'm sure he wanted me to say that I had been horribly abused, that my parents had mistreated me. But I didn't and I couldn't. Because I simply don't remember. If I have parents, I don't know who they are. It's bad living with two complete strangers, who pretend they understand you but who are so obviously repelled by you.
Naturally you grow bitter. You didn't ask to be with them, if you could have your own way you'd be alone. So I decided to shut myself up, avoid other people. They didn't seem to miss me. I know they were glad I was gone.
I haven't gone for good though, obviously. I'm just hiding, undercover.
The last couple of times I sat in Dr. Whatshisname's office I didn't even talk to him. He seemed satisfied. Then they didn't make me go anymore.
I let time go by, I let a lot of time go by. If it hadn't been for Pete, maybe I wouldn't have come out again at all. So in a way I owe him everything; not exactly my life but I sure as hell have never felt so alive as I do now, with him.
I mean, I am not really with him yet and I realize it's still a long way. I've probably covered half of it by now though.
I don't want to be referred to as his "stalker". I help him, only I can really help him see himself in a clearer light; not like those psychologists they made me go to. They actually did make me feel like a nut case for a while; they MADE me sick, I wasn't sick before.
I can help Pete. I'm not mad anymore, and I didn't mean to hurt him by making his pictures public. But he has got to listen to me!
Sometimes actions speak louder than words.
I can't come out as frequently as I want, and I can't stay outside for long. I am still too weak. Years of rejection and resentment take their toll. I am getting stronger with every day and it won't be too long until I can finally be with him.
First I need to take care of her. She shouldn't be by his side. It's not good for him and it's not good for me. She upsets me and I need to keep a clear head.
I hope he's learned his lesson. I warned him I would take action if he didn't get rid of her and I did. It's up to him to act accordingly now. He knows I'm not joking. I really wish it didn't have to be like that. But it's not that bad, those pictures are... I liked them. The world will like them. In fact, they might increase his popularity.
I said I can help Peter Wentz.
"So, Pete, how are you dealing with your new nickname? Peter Wiener...," the DJ puts on an amused grin.
What an asshole.
In a conversation preceding the radio interview the band's manager clearly pointed out to the man what he could ask and what was taboo. Everybody saw the necessity to address the leaking of the pictures. The tabloids are full of it. For every single web page that features Pete in his birthday suit, there are three discussing why he did it. That he himself did it. That some angry girlfriend did it. That the record label made him do it.
All a bunch of bullshit.
They agreed on giving him the chance to explain himself. Why he took the pictures and for whom they were originally meant for. Not who he, Pete, or the police really thought did it. It is understood that the whole stalker issue is to be kept secret, especially now that the media's greedy eye is fixated on him already. The specialist pointed out that making Phebe a center of attraction would only increase her urge to contact and harass her victim.
"Do not give her any attention at all. Do not talk about her with the press," Dr. Morley advised. "Pretend she doesn't exist."
Putting her, even with her unkonwn identity, into the spotlight would only worsen the situation. She could feel that she is being rewarded for her persistency.
"You know," Joe tries to save his friend, "nobody was more surprised than me to see that Peter ACTUALLY has a penis."
Pete grins and nudges the guitarist, the DJ snorts into the mike in acknowlegment of the joke but his facial expression reveals that he doesn't appreciate being shot down in his own show.
"Seriously though," Pete takes the floor, "my privacy's been invaded and it's a horrible feeling."
Am I allowed to say that?
He continues, "But what the media is saying, what is being said on websites about me and these pictures - that doesn't affect me at all. I really don't care."
"Do you have any idea who could have done this?"
"Well, I didn't," he replies quickly. "And that's all I know."
The DJ pushes a button on his keyboard and a mysterious melody starts playing. "Maybe an angry ex-girlfriend?" he suggests.
Behind the glass window that looks into the recording cabin, right next to the ever-vigilant Kirsh, the musician's manager is staring at the DJ with angrily squinted eyes, sliding the edge of his hand against his throat to indicate that the man's supposed to change the topic.
Pete starts to feel helpless. What is he supposed to say? He's usually not somebody to be at a loss of snappy comebacks but this situation is getting the best of him. He can't talk about Phebe. Everytime he reacted out of a gut feeling, he did the wrong thing when it comes to the stalker business.
He keeps quiet and looks at Joe for help.
"If you like talking about other guys' penises so much, why don't we have a chat about the vampires in our new 'A little less 16 candles' video? Cos them gots schlongs that put Pete's, and my own for that matter, to shame," the lead guitarist says.
Admitting defeat, the DJ picks up the new subject and asks a few questions about the plotline, cameos and working with the director of the video, Alan Ferguson. Then he takes a caller.
"Hi, this is Steph," the excited girl giggles. "I, um, I love you guys!"
"Thank you," Joe replies.
"We love you, too," Pete mumbles.
The girl clears her throat, "So, where are Patrick and Andy? And what will be your next single?"
"They're probably already in bed, I mean it's past 7 pm," Joe wisecracks. "Nah, I would assume Patrick is at home writing songs and Andy is... reading comics... in bed?"
Steph laughs out loud.
"Pete, you wanna say something about the next single?" the DJ looks at the bassist.
"Yeah," Pete answers. "I don't think we're gonna use another song off of 'FUCT'. I really can't say yet."
The host clicks his tongue, "Ok, thank you for calling Steph. Any song you want us to play for ya?"
While her designated song is being played, the band manager storms into the room and starts cursing the DJ. With a wave of his hand the man vows not to inquire deeper into the picture affair. Luckily he has no clue that Pete is being stalked.
"Alright, we're back. Pete and Joe from Fall Out Boy are with me, so call if you want to ask the guys some questions."
For the next few minutes the DJ keeps to babbling about the development of Fall Out Boy and wants to know about the best, worst, funniest, etc. moments in their career. Then he reads out an e-mail into the mike:
Dear Pete,
I want to know what qualities you're looking for in a woman.
Also, I want DJ Spazz to play 'Every breath you take' and I want to dedicate it to you, Peter.
Honest love, Phebe
Almost as soon as his ears have perceived the name 'Phebe' he feels a stinging pain in his brain.
"So, Pete, what's your dream woman. Personality-wise," the host rolls his eyes.
"My current girlfriend pretty much is my ideal woman. She's caring and always there for me, no matter what, but she doesn't hem me in any way."
"Ok..." the DJ is obviously bored by this mundane reply. "Let's play your song. Here's 'Every breath you take' by Sting and the Police."
By the time the first few notes are playing Pete's headache has developed so far that he cannot take it anymore.
"I need to get out of here," he breathes out and leaves the recording cabin.
every breath you take
every move you make
every step you take
I'll be watching you
every single day
every word you say
every game you play
I'll be watching you
oh, can't you see
you belong to me
how my poor heart aches
with every step you take...
Phebe.
That's my name and that's what I want them to call me. Not an "immature kid", not an "insecure character". I am me and they should accept me and who I am.
Every single time I showed up, every single time I attracted attention to myself on purpose everyone around me made me feel unwanted.
"There's something wrong with you."
When I was younger I had more energy, I wouldn't give up. I'd try it again and again; I thought eventually they would have to accept me, I'm part of their life. And why don't they want me? But there's just so much patience a person can have and I've worn out mine.
Then they wanted to "help" me, "fix" me.
I don't need fixed.
So I was dragged to a couple of doctors. After a few months they thought they had found the "perfect" one for me. Regularly, maybe even three times a week, I was sat down in an office and had to talk. About anything I wanted, but he really wanted me to talk about myself. How I saw myself, why I thought I was there.
He wanted to get to my childhood. I'm sure he wanted me to say that I had been horribly abused, that my parents had mistreated me. But I didn't and I couldn't. Because I simply don't remember. If I have parents, I don't know who they are. It's bad living with two complete strangers, who pretend they understand you but who are so obviously repelled by you.
Naturally you grow bitter. You didn't ask to be with them, if you could have your own way you'd be alone. So I decided to shut myself up, avoid other people. They didn't seem to miss me. I know they were glad I was gone.
I haven't gone for good though, obviously. I'm just hiding, undercover.
The last couple of times I sat in Dr. Whatshisname's office I didn't even talk to him. He seemed satisfied. Then they didn't make me go anymore.
I let time go by, I let a lot of time go by. If it hadn't been for Pete, maybe I wouldn't have come out again at all. So in a way I owe him everything; not exactly my life but I sure as hell have never felt so alive as I do now, with him.
I mean, I am not really with him yet and I realize it's still a long way. I've probably covered half of it by now though.
I don't want to be referred to as his "stalker". I help him, only I can really help him see himself in a clearer light; not like those psychologists they made me go to. They actually did make me feel like a nut case for a while; they MADE me sick, I wasn't sick before.
I can help Pete. I'm not mad anymore, and I didn't mean to hurt him by making his pictures public. But he has got to listen to me!
Sometimes actions speak louder than words.
I can't come out as frequently as I want, and I can't stay outside for long. I am still too weak. Years of rejection and resentment take their toll. I am getting stronger with every day and it won't be too long until I can finally be with him.
First I need to take care of her. She shouldn't be by his side. It's not good for him and it's not good for me. She upsets me and I need to keep a clear head.
I hope he's learned his lesson. I warned him I would take action if he didn't get rid of her and I did. It's up to him to act accordingly now. He knows I'm not joking. I really wish it didn't have to be like that. But it's not that bad, those pictures are... I liked them. The world will like them. In fact, they might increase his popularity.
I said I can help Peter Wentz.
"So, Pete, how are you dealing with your new nickname? Peter Wiener...," the DJ puts on an amused grin.
What an asshole.
In a conversation preceding the radio interview the band's manager clearly pointed out to the man what he could ask and what was taboo. Everybody saw the necessity to address the leaking of the pictures. The tabloids are full of it. For every single web page that features Pete in his birthday suit, there are three discussing why he did it. That he himself did it. That some angry girlfriend did it. That the record label made him do it.
All a bunch of bullshit.
They agreed on giving him the chance to explain himself. Why he took the pictures and for whom they were originally meant for. Not who he, Pete, or the police really thought did it. It is understood that the whole stalker issue is to be kept secret, especially now that the media's greedy eye is fixated on him already. The specialist pointed out that making Phebe a center of attraction would only increase her urge to contact and harass her victim.
"Do not give her any attention at all. Do not talk about her with the press," Dr. Morley advised. "Pretend she doesn't exist."
Putting her, even with her unkonwn identity, into the spotlight would only worsen the situation. She could feel that she is being rewarded for her persistency.
"You know," Joe tries to save his friend, "nobody was more surprised than me to see that Peter ACTUALLY has a penis."
Pete grins and nudges the guitarist, the DJ snorts into the mike in acknowlegment of the joke but his facial expression reveals that he doesn't appreciate being shot down in his own show.
"Seriously though," Pete takes the floor, "my privacy's been invaded and it's a horrible feeling."
Am I allowed to say that?
He continues, "But what the media is saying, what is being said on websites about me and these pictures - that doesn't affect me at all. I really don't care."
"Do you have any idea who could have done this?"
"Well, I didn't," he replies quickly. "And that's all I know."
The DJ pushes a button on his keyboard and a mysterious melody starts playing. "Maybe an angry ex-girlfriend?" he suggests.
Behind the glass window that looks into the recording cabin, right next to the ever-vigilant Kirsh, the musician's manager is staring at the DJ with angrily squinted eyes, sliding the edge of his hand against his throat to indicate that the man's supposed to change the topic.
Pete starts to feel helpless. What is he supposed to say? He's usually not somebody to be at a loss of snappy comebacks but this situation is getting the best of him. He can't talk about Phebe. Everytime he reacted out of a gut feeling, he did the wrong thing when it comes to the stalker business.
He keeps quiet and looks at Joe for help.
"If you like talking about other guys' penises so much, why don't we have a chat about the vampires in our new 'A little less 16 candles' video? Cos them gots schlongs that put Pete's, and my own for that matter, to shame," the lead guitarist says.
Admitting defeat, the DJ picks up the new subject and asks a few questions about the plotline, cameos and working with the director of the video, Alan Ferguson. Then he takes a caller.
"Hi, this is Steph," the excited girl giggles. "I, um, I love you guys!"
"Thank you," Joe replies.
"We love you, too," Pete mumbles.
The girl clears her throat, "So, where are Patrick and Andy? And what will be your next single?"
"They're probably already in bed, I mean it's past 7 pm," Joe wisecracks. "Nah, I would assume Patrick is at home writing songs and Andy is... reading comics... in bed?"
Steph laughs out loud.
"Pete, you wanna say something about the next single?" the DJ looks at the bassist.
"Yeah," Pete answers. "I don't think we're gonna use another song off of 'FUCT'. I really can't say yet."
The host clicks his tongue, "Ok, thank you for calling Steph. Any song you want us to play for ya?"
While her designated song is being played, the band manager storms into the room and starts cursing the DJ. With a wave of his hand the man vows not to inquire deeper into the picture affair. Luckily he has no clue that Pete is being stalked.
"Alright, we're back. Pete and Joe from Fall Out Boy are with me, so call if you want to ask the guys some questions."
For the next few minutes the DJ keeps to babbling about the development of Fall Out Boy and wants to know about the best, worst, funniest, etc. moments in their career. Then he reads out an e-mail into the mike:
Dear Pete,
I want to know what qualities you're looking for in a woman.
Also, I want DJ Spazz to play 'Every breath you take' and I want to dedicate it to you, Peter.
Honest love, Phebe
Almost as soon as his ears have perceived the name 'Phebe' he feels a stinging pain in his brain.
"So, Pete, what's your dream woman. Personality-wise," the host rolls his eyes.
"My current girlfriend pretty much is my ideal woman. She's caring and always there for me, no matter what, but she doesn't hem me in any way."
"Ok..." the DJ is obviously bored by this mundane reply. "Let's play your song. Here's 'Every breath you take' by Sting and the Police."
By the time the first few notes are playing Pete's headache has developed so far that he cannot take it anymore.
"I need to get out of here," he breathes out and leaves the recording cabin.
every breath you take
every move you make
every step you take
I'll be watching you
every single day
every word you say
every game you play
I'll be watching you
oh, can't you see
you belong to me
how my poor heart aches
with every step you take...
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