Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Everything Must Belong Somewhere
.[thirteen].
3 reviewsi think i'm losing touch with this story. i blame school and work and social activites.
1Exciting
Alcohol is the best form of pain killer. If I were a doctor that's all I would ever prescribe for anything. So you have aids, you say? Here's some Grey Goose. Drink until you pass out. Then wake up and do it again. Problem solved.
"See, this isn't so bad, is it?" Joe slurred from his new spot on the concrete. We were now located on the outside of my old favorite bar. Who, by the way, suck at welcoming their old patrons home. I am currently seated outside of it for Christ's sake.
"It's horrible! Your drunk ass got us kicked out!" I drunkenly slurred as well. "I feel eighteen again."
"You were such an asshole at eighteen. I remember the first day Pete brought you around. We all hated you." He admitted what I had already known. "We tolerated you though, because Pete loved you. Also, he threatened to quit the band if we didn't. We got so good at faking smiles that year." He admitted something I didn't know.
Joe had been so careful about mentioning Pete's name that I was beginning to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. I was getting used to not having to hear about him constantly and I was grateful for it. Hearing Joe casually mention his name like so sent what felt like a lightning bolt throughout my body.
"I don't think I was supposed to tell you that." Joe said confused.
"I slept with Pete." I admitted before I knew what I was doing. This proved too large and overwhelming to keep a secret any longer. The guilt was heavy and crushing my soul.
"Dude. You slept with Pete a lot. In fact, I think that's all you two ever did. That and argue. I did live with you two for a year, I heard it all. I even filed noise complaints anonymously trying to get you guys to stop." Joe was all about telling his secrets tonight. Perhaps I should get him drunk more often. Or less. i have a feeling this conversation will help me choose one or the other by the end of the night.
"All of those complaints were from you?! Nevermind, that's not the point. I meant I slept with Pete recently. As in last week." Maybe it was the rum speaking, but in this moment I felt like it was okay to tell Joe my secret.
"I know. Patrick called before you came."
Oh. Of course Patrick called before I came. Of course Joe already knew. He wasn't hanging around because he sprained my ankle, he was hanging around because he knew Pete fucked me over. In fact, he was probably hanging around despite the fact that he sprained my ankle. Right now I felt as low as I did when Patrick admitted that he knew what Pete and I had done. Maybe even worse now because now I had nowhere to run to.
Even though I was outside, it felt like there were four walls around me caving in on each side and I couldn't get out quick enough. It felt like my head was caving in. These past few days I had been reconnecting with Joe felt nice, but now I learn that he was only attempting protecting me from his best friend. And not even really his best friend, more from myself.
"Charley, it's okay. People make mistakes. You and Pete made a mistake, so what?" Joe asked innocently in an offensive attempt to fill the quietness with his voice.
A mistake. That's what I had been calling that night myself, but in all honestly, that isn't at all what I thought it was. It felt right. Pete had called it right, yet everyone else was calling it a mistake. They must have known something I didn't.
"Charley, come on. You know he wanted to get even with you for bailing on him like you did. You hurt him bad. Pete was the lowest any of us had ever seen him when you left. I'm sorry that you got used in his game to manipulate you, but you were over him before you two were even over."
A game. Had Joe seriously just called it a game? That's fucking amazing. Not only was I a mistake, but now I was the pawn in some sick and twisted ex lover's game. There can't be anything worse than that.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, Joe." I said with an intensity that surprised even me.
"Charley, I've never heard Pete claim that he loved any girl before or since you. Especially not after he'd gotten them into bed. Pete was always saying that there was just something about you, then you just fucking disappeared. You must have known how badly that would hurt him. You must have known that the shock and disappointment of you leaving would have driven him to swallow all those pills, " Joe put his hand on my shoulder and forced me to look at him. "No one blames you, kid. You did what you felt you had to. It's your life, but don't come crying back home because you finally got a taste of what Pete felt for the past two years." And with that Joe got up and walked away. I sat on the concrete speechless because I was sure that this was the second time in my entire life that I had been walked away from.
I let everything that Joe had said sink in. He brought up the suicide attempt again in direct relation to me. He also revealed that he blamed me for leaving town as well and accused me of getting a taste of my own medicine. This entire conversation was odd to me because it was now apparent that Pete has yet to tell anyone the whole story of what really happened. I didn't just leave because I wanted to, I fucking had to leave. Pete told me to leave. In the last conversation we had before the recent one's, Pete had found my journal and read some things that he didn't appreciate and after destroying it completely, Pete kicked me out of our apartment. I had no choice but to leave. The worst part of this was that no one knew anything about any of this. They held Pete even higher up on his pedastool and placed me lower than they ever had.
I swear I will kill Pete for this.
"See, this isn't so bad, is it?" Joe slurred from his new spot on the concrete. We were now located on the outside of my old favorite bar. Who, by the way, suck at welcoming their old patrons home. I am currently seated outside of it for Christ's sake.
"It's horrible! Your drunk ass got us kicked out!" I drunkenly slurred as well. "I feel eighteen again."
"You were such an asshole at eighteen. I remember the first day Pete brought you around. We all hated you." He admitted what I had already known. "We tolerated you though, because Pete loved you. Also, he threatened to quit the band if we didn't. We got so good at faking smiles that year." He admitted something I didn't know.
Joe had been so careful about mentioning Pete's name that I was beginning to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. I was getting used to not having to hear about him constantly and I was grateful for it. Hearing Joe casually mention his name like so sent what felt like a lightning bolt throughout my body.
"I don't think I was supposed to tell you that." Joe said confused.
"I slept with Pete." I admitted before I knew what I was doing. This proved too large and overwhelming to keep a secret any longer. The guilt was heavy and crushing my soul.
"Dude. You slept with Pete a lot. In fact, I think that's all you two ever did. That and argue. I did live with you two for a year, I heard it all. I even filed noise complaints anonymously trying to get you guys to stop." Joe was all about telling his secrets tonight. Perhaps I should get him drunk more often. Or less. i have a feeling this conversation will help me choose one or the other by the end of the night.
"All of those complaints were from you?! Nevermind, that's not the point. I meant I slept with Pete recently. As in last week." Maybe it was the rum speaking, but in this moment I felt like it was okay to tell Joe my secret.
"I know. Patrick called before you came."
Oh. Of course Patrick called before I came. Of course Joe already knew. He wasn't hanging around because he sprained my ankle, he was hanging around because he knew Pete fucked me over. In fact, he was probably hanging around despite the fact that he sprained my ankle. Right now I felt as low as I did when Patrick admitted that he knew what Pete and I had done. Maybe even worse now because now I had nowhere to run to.
Even though I was outside, it felt like there were four walls around me caving in on each side and I couldn't get out quick enough. It felt like my head was caving in. These past few days I had been reconnecting with Joe felt nice, but now I learn that he was only attempting protecting me from his best friend. And not even really his best friend, more from myself.
"Charley, it's okay. People make mistakes. You and Pete made a mistake, so what?" Joe asked innocently in an offensive attempt to fill the quietness with his voice.
A mistake. That's what I had been calling that night myself, but in all honestly, that isn't at all what I thought it was. It felt right. Pete had called it right, yet everyone else was calling it a mistake. They must have known something I didn't.
"Charley, come on. You know he wanted to get even with you for bailing on him like you did. You hurt him bad. Pete was the lowest any of us had ever seen him when you left. I'm sorry that you got used in his game to manipulate you, but you were over him before you two were even over."
A game. Had Joe seriously just called it a game? That's fucking amazing. Not only was I a mistake, but now I was the pawn in some sick and twisted ex lover's game. There can't be anything worse than that.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, Joe." I said with an intensity that surprised even me.
"Charley, I've never heard Pete claim that he loved any girl before or since you. Especially not after he'd gotten them into bed. Pete was always saying that there was just something about you, then you just fucking disappeared. You must have known how badly that would hurt him. You must have known that the shock and disappointment of you leaving would have driven him to swallow all those pills, " Joe put his hand on my shoulder and forced me to look at him. "No one blames you, kid. You did what you felt you had to. It's your life, but don't come crying back home because you finally got a taste of what Pete felt for the past two years." And with that Joe got up and walked away. I sat on the concrete speechless because I was sure that this was the second time in my entire life that I had been walked away from.
I let everything that Joe had said sink in. He brought up the suicide attempt again in direct relation to me. He also revealed that he blamed me for leaving town as well and accused me of getting a taste of my own medicine. This entire conversation was odd to me because it was now apparent that Pete has yet to tell anyone the whole story of what really happened. I didn't just leave because I wanted to, I fucking had to leave. Pete told me to leave. In the last conversation we had before the recent one's, Pete had found my journal and read some things that he didn't appreciate and after destroying it completely, Pete kicked me out of our apartment. I had no choice but to leave. The worst part of this was that no one knew anything about any of this. They held Pete even higher up on his pedastool and placed me lower than they ever had.
I swear I will kill Pete for this.
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