Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Master of the Game.
This chapter is for Christa, because she pretty much saved my ass while I was writing it. Thank you very much Christa. =]
Patrick sat across from Christina in a stuffy business room, while both their attorney's discussed their case at the top of the table, occasionally glancing up to check they weren't ripping each other's hair out, at least.
"You are pure evil, you know that, right?" Patrick hissed into the quiet. The room was silent, the top floor of the building seemed a lot quieter, and more remote than the ground floors. The city of LA stretched out before them, and life down below in the roads and buildings went on as normal.
"What about you? Shacking my kids up with some redheaded tart. Is that all you have in common with her, Patrick, your hair color?"
"She's not a tart! You have a cheek saying that. And she's a hell of a lot better for me than you were."
"Then why don't you go propose to her and have lots more babies to fill the space when yours are gone?"
Patrick stood up, his fists clenched. He could take insults about himself, but about his kids, his kids that he breathed for, that wasn't happening.
"Is everything OK, Mr Stump?" Patrick's lawyer questioned, as Christina's lawyer shot him a dirty look. Patrick caught Christina's eye, and during the smirk she shot him, he decided his future there and then.
"No. I want to file abandonment charges."
"What?" Christina yelled. "He can't do that, can he?"
"If you'll excuse us, Mr Stump and I will need to discuss this privately." Patrick's lawyer led him out of the room while Christina was talking in a raised voice to her own.
"I swear, if we lose this fucking case, my fiance is going to shove his foot so far up your..." The door closed and Patrick and his lawyer were in a different room. They both sat down and the lawyer opened his book again.
"Abandonment charges?"
Patrick nodded.
"Alright. This will open up a whole new case, but if you're sure."
"Oh. I'm sure." Patrick said, defiantly.
"So... tell me." The lawyer said, his pen poised. He looked at Patrick, gesturing him to go on.
"Well, it's like I said last week..."
"My client and I have issued a proposal for filing an abandonment charge." Patrick's lawyer said in the court, weeks later. Patrick sat in the benches, sweating, his tie pulled too tight around his neck. He loosened it as he listened to his lawyer speaking confidently to the judge. There were only a few people gathered in the room, Patrick, Pete, and Patrick's lawyer, along with the judge, Christina, Danny and Christina's lawyer. On both sides the reactions to each word were different. Pete and Patrick sweated more profusely with every word, whereas Christina and Danny sat, their faces becoming sourer after each syllable.
Before the court had started, Danny had bumped into Patrick in the corridor by the coffee machine. He looked nervous upon eye contact with Patrick. Patrick didn't care, he could care less he basically came up to Danny's elbow, and he was everything he wasn't. He didn't even feel sorry for Danny, that he had been stupid enough to take Christina back. Patrick turned away without saying a word and walked down the corridor, where he sat in silence, feeling nothing but resentment for everything he was surrounded by. He shouldn't be sitting in a court, he should be sitting at home with his kids, writing music and playing with them. But instead, he was fighting to keep that privilege.
"And what are your points for backing up this statement?" The judge asked.
"My client has informed me that the mother of his children, Christina Johns, has not visited the said children since the day they were born. The accused has a record of two house calls to my client, none concerning the children, and though my client attempted to gain her interest through email, the responses were inconclusive. None concerned the children, all were avoiding the matter."
"I see. And what evidence have you got to support this claim?"
"The said emails," the lawyer held up folder of sheets of paper, "And the evidence of only two phone calls regarding my client and the accused."
"OK. And you have a witness to testify that there has been no contact whatsoever from the accused?"
"I have, your Honor." The lawyer nodded.
"Fine. At this point it's relevant your client make a statement to back up his points."
"Mr Stump?" His lawyer turned around.
Patrick shook as he stood, Pete clapping his shoulder as he did so. The court was silence, the only sound was Patrick's shoes on the floor as he took to the stand. He looked anywhere but to his right, where Christina and her pose sat, glaring at him.
"Mr Stump, you're entitled to make a statement at this point."
Patrick nodded, cleared his throat and when he spoke, his voice was shaking and a lot deeper than normal.
"I, uh. Christina and I had been together for like, 5 years." He informed them. "And I found out she was cheating on me, so we broke up. Then a few days after I'd left the house, she came round to my friend Pete's house, where I was staying, and told me she was pregnant. I told her I would stick by her through the pregnancy and I did. Then I figured the baby could or couldn't be mine. Because she'd been with both of us, sexually. All throughout the next six months, she played me around and fought with me over anything, clothes, cribs, anything I did was wrong. She said she didn't want her children growing up in certain clothes, or sleeping in cribs that my friends bought for me."
"When you say played you around... what do you mean?" The judge asked. Patrick's hands shook with fear and he stuffed them in his pockets to steady them.
"She didn't tell me if there was a chance the baby could be his." Patrick replied, nodding towards Danny but not bearing to look at him, in his direction. "And at one point, I think she was around 7 months pregnant, she called me up crying, and I thought she was in labor, but she told me Danny had left her and she was alone. And there were a few times she begged to take her back. She would kiss me or come onto me and I'd have to tell her where to go. I wanted to have a proper family unit, and I admit I begged her to take me back, but I wanted the best for my child, for my children, and I still do."
"I can't live without my children, sir. They're my life, they're part of me, and to think that I might wake up tomorrow and realize I won't see them again, it kills me. I want to be able to kiss them when they cry, I want to read them their bedtime story, and I want to cuddle them in the night when they have a nightmare. They deserve the best life that could be given, and I'm prepared to do that. I'm trying my best to give them the best life. I love my kids with all my heart, and I want them by my side every minute. I can't breathe without them. When I close my eyes, all I can see are their faces, all I can hear are their laughs, and I want them to grow up knowing who I am."
The judge looked at Patrick, who was looking pleadingly at him now, clutching the railing of the stand for support.
"I need my children, your Honor. If they're taken away from me... I can't go on without them. I made them." He whispered, his voice breaking, tears filling his eyes.
"I have to." He said simply, standing back.
The case went on for hours, several interviews with Patrick and Christina separately, and Christina was asked to take to the stand once more. During a recess, Patrick had to stagger into the bathroom, Pete holding him up to vomit. He shook with fear, his voice wavering with every word he said, his face turning paler after every sentence. After the recess, they were all summoned back to the room.
"Miss Johns, could you step up to the stand please?" The judge asked. Christina stood up and walked to the stand, her eyes fixated on Patrick as she came closer. He dropped the gaze, knowing her eyes weren't the eyes he used to look into and whisper his love to. They weren't a mother's eyes, either, they were cold and sharp, piercing into Patrick's own round, terrified ones. There was no mother's passion when she stated her reasons for wanting custody of the children. Just a voice that was as icy as her stare, every point directed and jabbed at Patrick for effect.
"Miss Johns, you state your most important reason for wanting custody of your children is because Mr Stump's career in unsuitable to bring up a child?"
"Yes." Christina said, fixing her hurt, wounded mother look. "I want them to grow up knowing their parents."
"Yeah, right. Why aren't you in contact now then? What about the past year?"
"Mr Stump, please!" The judge said, raising his voice as Patrick raised his. He looked at his lap.
"And you think that if the children were in your sole custody, they would, as you put it, grow up 'knowing their parents'?"
"Yes." Christina nodded.
"Am I correct in thinking you are a glamor/lingerie model?"
Christina's posture loosened.
"Yes." She said, ever so slight less confident.
"And am I right in stating that your contract requires you to," he consulted a sheet of paper in front of him, "to travel to required destinations for settings in the shoot?"
"Yes." Christina repeated.
"So, overall, it would seem that, as I see you have a lot of job offers here, you would be away from your children just as much as Mr Stump would be while he tours to promote his music."
"I..."
"Overruled. Next point." The judge said, holding his hand up.
"Now, it says here you don't agree with the woman Mr Stump resides with."
"I don't live with her." Patrick corrected them, but after a glance from the Judge, he kept his mouth closed.
"No, I don't." Christina spat.
"May I ask why?"
Christina stood, frozen. She was unable to think of a reason the Judge would believe about Amanda.
"Do I not have a right? If I don't like the woman my children are being forced to live with, then I'm entitled to have my say."
"I'm sorry, my dear, but since you didn't bother to get in contact about your children before, your say is pretty much /over ruled/. Next." The judge said. Christina stood, her cheeks turning red, embarrassed.
"Next point states that Mr Stump has a 'companion' who is under the influence of drugs."
"Yes."
"That's all fair and square, but the problem is that unless this 'companion' is influencing the children themselves to take drugs, or using the drug in front of them, then there's no danger for the children. Assuming, Mr Stump does not allow the smoking of substances in his home?"
"I don't. And he would never smoke in front of my kids."
"Overruled." The judge said defiantly. Pete leaned towards Patrick and squeezed his arm.
"I see a pattern." He said, with a supportive smile, and Patrick only just managed to return it. He felt so ill, he just hoped he wouldn't pass out.
"I have one more issue to come across." The judge announced, "Before we close this matter and decide on a verdict. Going back to the 'unstable environment' theory. Miss Johns, did you stop to think that if you gained custody of the children, then Mr Stump could claim he didn't approve of the man you're living with? That your children are living with?"
"Well, I..."
"Did you know Mr Stump hired an experienced and well trained au pair for a few weeks in order for him to secure his life?"
"No." She said coldly.
"And did you ever see how many rock stars have managed to have children and keep their job and a 'stable home life'? Every family has it's problems, Miss Johns. You come across to me as one of the women who initiates these problems."
"I...!"
"I'm right in thinking that Mr Stump's best friend and band mate is now in a relationship with this au pair?"
"That's correct, your Honor." Pete said, speaking in the room for the first time. "So she's with us whenever we need her help. She's more than happy to help and occasionally babysit."
The judge nodded and turned to look at Christina. You may take your seat."
Christina stood, her mouth open, anger searing throughout her body as she caught Pete's eye this time. Pete looked away, nonchalantly, and waited for the judge to speak.
"There will be a ten minute recess while we consider the points and decide on a verdict."
"Oh, God." Patrick cleared his throat, his stomach aching and churning of nerves. He took the cup of tea Pete had bought him, and Pete joined him at the cafeteria table, sitting opposite him and wondering whether to speak.
"You did good, Patrick."
"Yeah, but was it good enough?" Patrick asked, setting the cup down for fear of spilling it due to his shaking posture.
"Let me rephrase that. You did /great/. And you made a hell of a lot more sense than Christina did."
"What if this goes downhill, Pete? What am I going to do? My life isn't worth living without my children."
Pete raised his cup to his lips and let his teeth clink against the side.
"I don't know, Patrick."
After what seemed a lifetime later, a sly looking man, who was the court typist, entered the cafeteria, and motioned with his finger for Patrick and Pete to return. As Patrick stood up, his knees buckled and his tea lurched in his stomach.
"I'm going to throw up." He whispered, as Pete caught him and supported him through the corridors.
"Shh, it's alright, Patrick. Just breathe."
"Is everybody present?" The judge called. After a nod from a court worker, he nodded back and looked down at the piece of paper. Patrick bit his lip to keep from throwing up, taking long deep breaths that caused his body to raise up and down. He began to taste blood and after a second, realized he was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, but he couldn't feel a thing. His legs and entire body were numb from nerves and his shaking, and for one split second he thought he was paralyzed. It wouldn't matter if he was paralyzed, he still wanted his kids. He snapped back to attention, his stomach heaving as his thoughts returned from the brief escape. He wanted right there and then, to be holding Danielle and Josh, one on each knee like he usually did, kissing them and hugging them, ruffling their little tufts of hair. He wanted it more than he ever had done in his life. He panicked as he realized the judge had been talking, and caught the end of the sentence, all he needed to know. At the result, Patrick clutched Pete and burst into tears, trying not to fall to his knees as the words echoed in his mind. He clamped his hand to his mouth to prevent vomiting again, as Pete pulled him back onto the seat, pulling him closer and putting his arm around him. Patrick cried, the words spinning around his mind;
"And, as a result of the chain of events and points discussed here today, the court has decided that..."
Patrick sat across from Christina in a stuffy business room, while both their attorney's discussed their case at the top of the table, occasionally glancing up to check they weren't ripping each other's hair out, at least.
"You are pure evil, you know that, right?" Patrick hissed into the quiet. The room was silent, the top floor of the building seemed a lot quieter, and more remote than the ground floors. The city of LA stretched out before them, and life down below in the roads and buildings went on as normal.
"What about you? Shacking my kids up with some redheaded tart. Is that all you have in common with her, Patrick, your hair color?"
"She's not a tart! You have a cheek saying that. And she's a hell of a lot better for me than you were."
"Then why don't you go propose to her and have lots more babies to fill the space when yours are gone?"
Patrick stood up, his fists clenched. He could take insults about himself, but about his kids, his kids that he breathed for, that wasn't happening.
"Is everything OK, Mr Stump?" Patrick's lawyer questioned, as Christina's lawyer shot him a dirty look. Patrick caught Christina's eye, and during the smirk she shot him, he decided his future there and then.
"No. I want to file abandonment charges."
"What?" Christina yelled. "He can't do that, can he?"
"If you'll excuse us, Mr Stump and I will need to discuss this privately." Patrick's lawyer led him out of the room while Christina was talking in a raised voice to her own.
"I swear, if we lose this fucking case, my fiance is going to shove his foot so far up your..." The door closed and Patrick and his lawyer were in a different room. They both sat down and the lawyer opened his book again.
"Abandonment charges?"
Patrick nodded.
"Alright. This will open up a whole new case, but if you're sure."
"Oh. I'm sure." Patrick said, defiantly.
"So... tell me." The lawyer said, his pen poised. He looked at Patrick, gesturing him to go on.
"Well, it's like I said last week..."
"My client and I have issued a proposal for filing an abandonment charge." Patrick's lawyer said in the court, weeks later. Patrick sat in the benches, sweating, his tie pulled too tight around his neck. He loosened it as he listened to his lawyer speaking confidently to the judge. There were only a few people gathered in the room, Patrick, Pete, and Patrick's lawyer, along with the judge, Christina, Danny and Christina's lawyer. On both sides the reactions to each word were different. Pete and Patrick sweated more profusely with every word, whereas Christina and Danny sat, their faces becoming sourer after each syllable.
Before the court had started, Danny had bumped into Patrick in the corridor by the coffee machine. He looked nervous upon eye contact with Patrick. Patrick didn't care, he could care less he basically came up to Danny's elbow, and he was everything he wasn't. He didn't even feel sorry for Danny, that he had been stupid enough to take Christina back. Patrick turned away without saying a word and walked down the corridor, where he sat in silence, feeling nothing but resentment for everything he was surrounded by. He shouldn't be sitting in a court, he should be sitting at home with his kids, writing music and playing with them. But instead, he was fighting to keep that privilege.
"And what are your points for backing up this statement?" The judge asked.
"My client has informed me that the mother of his children, Christina Johns, has not visited the said children since the day they were born. The accused has a record of two house calls to my client, none concerning the children, and though my client attempted to gain her interest through email, the responses were inconclusive. None concerned the children, all were avoiding the matter."
"I see. And what evidence have you got to support this claim?"
"The said emails," the lawyer held up folder of sheets of paper, "And the evidence of only two phone calls regarding my client and the accused."
"OK. And you have a witness to testify that there has been no contact whatsoever from the accused?"
"I have, your Honor." The lawyer nodded.
"Fine. At this point it's relevant your client make a statement to back up his points."
"Mr Stump?" His lawyer turned around.
Patrick shook as he stood, Pete clapping his shoulder as he did so. The court was silence, the only sound was Patrick's shoes on the floor as he took to the stand. He looked anywhere but to his right, where Christina and her pose sat, glaring at him.
"Mr Stump, you're entitled to make a statement at this point."
Patrick nodded, cleared his throat and when he spoke, his voice was shaking and a lot deeper than normal.
"I, uh. Christina and I had been together for like, 5 years." He informed them. "And I found out she was cheating on me, so we broke up. Then a few days after I'd left the house, she came round to my friend Pete's house, where I was staying, and told me she was pregnant. I told her I would stick by her through the pregnancy and I did. Then I figured the baby could or couldn't be mine. Because she'd been with both of us, sexually. All throughout the next six months, she played me around and fought with me over anything, clothes, cribs, anything I did was wrong. She said she didn't want her children growing up in certain clothes, or sleeping in cribs that my friends bought for me."
"When you say played you around... what do you mean?" The judge asked. Patrick's hands shook with fear and he stuffed them in his pockets to steady them.
"She didn't tell me if there was a chance the baby could be his." Patrick replied, nodding towards Danny but not bearing to look at him, in his direction. "And at one point, I think she was around 7 months pregnant, she called me up crying, and I thought she was in labor, but she told me Danny had left her and she was alone. And there were a few times she begged to take her back. She would kiss me or come onto me and I'd have to tell her where to go. I wanted to have a proper family unit, and I admit I begged her to take me back, but I wanted the best for my child, for my children, and I still do."
"I can't live without my children, sir. They're my life, they're part of me, and to think that I might wake up tomorrow and realize I won't see them again, it kills me. I want to be able to kiss them when they cry, I want to read them their bedtime story, and I want to cuddle them in the night when they have a nightmare. They deserve the best life that could be given, and I'm prepared to do that. I'm trying my best to give them the best life. I love my kids with all my heart, and I want them by my side every minute. I can't breathe without them. When I close my eyes, all I can see are their faces, all I can hear are their laughs, and I want them to grow up knowing who I am."
The judge looked at Patrick, who was looking pleadingly at him now, clutching the railing of the stand for support.
"I need my children, your Honor. If they're taken away from me... I can't go on without them. I made them." He whispered, his voice breaking, tears filling his eyes.
"I have to." He said simply, standing back.
The case went on for hours, several interviews with Patrick and Christina separately, and Christina was asked to take to the stand once more. During a recess, Patrick had to stagger into the bathroom, Pete holding him up to vomit. He shook with fear, his voice wavering with every word he said, his face turning paler after every sentence. After the recess, they were all summoned back to the room.
"Miss Johns, could you step up to the stand please?" The judge asked. Christina stood up and walked to the stand, her eyes fixated on Patrick as she came closer. He dropped the gaze, knowing her eyes weren't the eyes he used to look into and whisper his love to. They weren't a mother's eyes, either, they were cold and sharp, piercing into Patrick's own round, terrified ones. There was no mother's passion when she stated her reasons for wanting custody of the children. Just a voice that was as icy as her stare, every point directed and jabbed at Patrick for effect.
"Miss Johns, you state your most important reason for wanting custody of your children is because Mr Stump's career in unsuitable to bring up a child?"
"Yes." Christina said, fixing her hurt, wounded mother look. "I want them to grow up knowing their parents."
"Yeah, right. Why aren't you in contact now then? What about the past year?"
"Mr Stump, please!" The judge said, raising his voice as Patrick raised his. He looked at his lap.
"And you think that if the children were in your sole custody, they would, as you put it, grow up 'knowing their parents'?"
"Yes." Christina nodded.
"Am I correct in thinking you are a glamor/lingerie model?"
Christina's posture loosened.
"Yes." She said, ever so slight less confident.
"And am I right in stating that your contract requires you to," he consulted a sheet of paper in front of him, "to travel to required destinations for settings in the shoot?"
"Yes." Christina repeated.
"So, overall, it would seem that, as I see you have a lot of job offers here, you would be away from your children just as much as Mr Stump would be while he tours to promote his music."
"I..."
"Overruled. Next point." The judge said, holding his hand up.
"Now, it says here you don't agree with the woman Mr Stump resides with."
"I don't live with her." Patrick corrected them, but after a glance from the Judge, he kept his mouth closed.
"No, I don't." Christina spat.
"May I ask why?"
Christina stood, frozen. She was unable to think of a reason the Judge would believe about Amanda.
"Do I not have a right? If I don't like the woman my children are being forced to live with, then I'm entitled to have my say."
"I'm sorry, my dear, but since you didn't bother to get in contact about your children before, your say is pretty much /over ruled/. Next." The judge said. Christina stood, her cheeks turning red, embarrassed.
"Next point states that Mr Stump has a 'companion' who is under the influence of drugs."
"Yes."
"That's all fair and square, but the problem is that unless this 'companion' is influencing the children themselves to take drugs, or using the drug in front of them, then there's no danger for the children. Assuming, Mr Stump does not allow the smoking of substances in his home?"
"I don't. And he would never smoke in front of my kids."
"Overruled." The judge said defiantly. Pete leaned towards Patrick and squeezed his arm.
"I see a pattern." He said, with a supportive smile, and Patrick only just managed to return it. He felt so ill, he just hoped he wouldn't pass out.
"I have one more issue to come across." The judge announced, "Before we close this matter and decide on a verdict. Going back to the 'unstable environment' theory. Miss Johns, did you stop to think that if you gained custody of the children, then Mr Stump could claim he didn't approve of the man you're living with? That your children are living with?"
"Well, I..."
"Did you know Mr Stump hired an experienced and well trained au pair for a few weeks in order for him to secure his life?"
"No." She said coldly.
"And did you ever see how many rock stars have managed to have children and keep their job and a 'stable home life'? Every family has it's problems, Miss Johns. You come across to me as one of the women who initiates these problems."
"I...!"
"I'm right in thinking that Mr Stump's best friend and band mate is now in a relationship with this au pair?"
"That's correct, your Honor." Pete said, speaking in the room for the first time. "So she's with us whenever we need her help. She's more than happy to help and occasionally babysit."
The judge nodded and turned to look at Christina. You may take your seat."
Christina stood, her mouth open, anger searing throughout her body as she caught Pete's eye this time. Pete looked away, nonchalantly, and waited for the judge to speak.
"There will be a ten minute recess while we consider the points and decide on a verdict."
"Oh, God." Patrick cleared his throat, his stomach aching and churning of nerves. He took the cup of tea Pete had bought him, and Pete joined him at the cafeteria table, sitting opposite him and wondering whether to speak.
"You did good, Patrick."
"Yeah, but was it good enough?" Patrick asked, setting the cup down for fear of spilling it due to his shaking posture.
"Let me rephrase that. You did /great/. And you made a hell of a lot more sense than Christina did."
"What if this goes downhill, Pete? What am I going to do? My life isn't worth living without my children."
Pete raised his cup to his lips and let his teeth clink against the side.
"I don't know, Patrick."
After what seemed a lifetime later, a sly looking man, who was the court typist, entered the cafeteria, and motioned with his finger for Patrick and Pete to return. As Patrick stood up, his knees buckled and his tea lurched in his stomach.
"I'm going to throw up." He whispered, as Pete caught him and supported him through the corridors.
"Shh, it's alright, Patrick. Just breathe."
"Is everybody present?" The judge called. After a nod from a court worker, he nodded back and looked down at the piece of paper. Patrick bit his lip to keep from throwing up, taking long deep breaths that caused his body to raise up and down. He began to taste blood and after a second, realized he was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, but he couldn't feel a thing. His legs and entire body were numb from nerves and his shaking, and for one split second he thought he was paralyzed. It wouldn't matter if he was paralyzed, he still wanted his kids. He snapped back to attention, his stomach heaving as his thoughts returned from the brief escape. He wanted right there and then, to be holding Danielle and Josh, one on each knee like he usually did, kissing them and hugging them, ruffling their little tufts of hair. He wanted it more than he ever had done in his life. He panicked as he realized the judge had been talking, and caught the end of the sentence, all he needed to know. At the result, Patrick clutched Pete and burst into tears, trying not to fall to his knees as the words echoed in his mind. He clamped his hand to his mouth to prevent vomiting again, as Pete pulled him back onto the seat, pulling him closer and putting his arm around him. Patrick cried, the words spinning around his mind;
"And, as a result of the chain of events and points discussed here today, the court has decided that..."
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