Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I Know I'm Supposed To Love You
Beata had let a week slide into the abyss. No phone calls to anyone. No contact. Nothing but a silence that whittled through her apartment and dried her uncaught tears. Messages beeped wildly on her answering machine, many of which were Patrick or Pete, yet she kept them unheard. Beata had curled herself up in a ball of her own saddness. Crying into her arms and whenever she thought she had stopped, and all then she would remember, letting out another wave of grief.
Beata was hit hard. No one had ever hurt her in this way before, she assume naturally that Pete would be completely faithful to her, and like a fool, she believed it until her heart swelled with more love with him. But one simple kiss, one touch, one fuck, sent her world crashing down around her. On her tongue were memories of his taste, which now harboured bitterness and it made her nauseous. Her throat was raw from choking tears and alcohol veins. An empty bottle of vodka lay destitute in the trashcan, and her head spun from its consumption.
Did Pete ever love her? She was starting to believe it couldn't be true. Every word he said to her, sweet nothings, now turned into sentences of deceit. Every gift that he gave her out of love, were now symbols of his affair. Tainted with the thoughts of what he had done. Beata couldn't move for a while, a few days she spent lying in the sheets, breathing in the scents that covered it. Wishing she could block out any image of her and Pete entwining in lust, because as soon as she did, the image was contort itself to Pete and that girl, and again she would throw up.
Today though, today was different. Beata woke up from her pit of self-loathing, her head pounding from mistakes and alcohol. She peeled of the clothing that she had lounge around in for the past 7 days. Removing her clothes she stepped into her shower. Feeling the beats of clean water was away the dirt upon her skin. She let the spray soak her hair. Beata ran her fingers through, shaking her head as she closed her eyes to the fresh water on her face. She smiled to her self though she had no reason to.
She opened mass amounts of drawers and found the perfect outfit. A pair of tight skinny jeans that she hardly wore but outlined her impeccable curves. She slipped them on over her small black thongs. Beata grabbed a studded belt and wrapped it around her waist for show. She covered her small pert breasts with her bra and placed a black vest top over it. Grabbing a yellow long sleeved top, she placed it over her head and breathed in as the top clung to her arms. She spent a couple of minutes applying make up and brushing her hair, then slipped on some converse that were new. She picked up her bag, making sure that she had her collection of items; keys, wallet, mobile. Beata took a second to finalise plans within her head, she winked to an invisible crowd and walked of. Determined to complete what her heart told her to do.
She adjusted the mirror to her car. Removing out of place lipstick and staring at herself into the mirror. "I forgive you," she whispered, rehearsing what she was going to do, "Pete I need you." The sentences filled her head, swimming around and knocked of one another as she headed out to find him. In her bag, her phone buzzed and vibrated, she glanced over to it momentarily, Patrick. Flashed on screen, Beata bit her lip, refusing to answer it but her pulse was racing in her neck. Beata couldn't help but feel guilt for ignoring Patrick, after all, none of this was his fault, and if she had been entirely honest to herself, she needed a friend more than ever. In the back of her mind, she decided that after she gained Pete back, she would make it up to Patrick. She missed him.
At a set of red traffic lights Beata took a fleeting moment to decide if this was what she wanted to do. Her phone had rung off and she pondered. Did she want Pete back? But the second she remember how much Pete had completed her loneliness. She screeched her tires as she turned the corner. Wanting him. Loving him.
Beata pulled up to Pete's house and made sure there were signs of him there. His car was pulled up outside and she in took a sharp lease of oxygen to calm her nerves, though a voice inside told her that she is not to blame, and it was Pete who should be in this position. She brushed the voice to one side and drummed out a beat before gathering up the bravery. Courage seeping into her cells. She slammed the car door shut behind her and walked, somewhat unevenly, up his driveway and to the front of his house. She rapped a couple of times on the front door.
Beata tapped her toes to a song that played within her head. Turning around for no reason to admire the beauty of the street in the sunlight. Her ears cocked at the sound of the locks opening in which she spun around.
"Pete -" she begun but was completely stopped in her tracks when she saw a pair of blue eyes staring at her. A waterfall of blond locks cascaded upon shoulders that were bare. The girl was wearing a bed sheet, wrapped around her evident nakedness. Beata eyes open wide in fury, recognising the girl from the malicious grin on her face. Beata took a step back.
"Can I help you?" The girl said with superior spite. Beata began to stutter until she heard a rhythm of steps fall down the stairs. Followed by Pete's voice.
"Grace what did I tell you about opening my door?" He began laughing as he wrapped his arms around Grace and snuggled his face into her neck, Grace giggled but kept her eyes on Beata. Pete looked up from Grace to see who had answered the door and automatically let go of Grace. He met Beata's eyes as they travelled up his body, finding that he was only dressed in underwear. "Shit, Beata this isn't what -"
Beata punched him in the mouth, sending him flying into the doorframe. Grace opened her mouth in shock, which was obviously faked. Pete grabbed the side of his face and regained his balance as Beata turned her heal and stormed off down the path, blood splurging from his mouth.
"Beata wait" he called out to her, jittery and nervous as she refused to look back. Beata climbed into the car and placed her foot down, speeding off in moment of madness. Pete watched her go, not knowing what he was supposed to do next.
Beata had managed to control her rage, long enough to control her car. She pulled into a nearby shop and bought a bottle of whiskey, managing to consume it all in a matter of seconds. She slammed her hands upon her wheel.
"FUCK!" She screamed and kept her eyes swiftly on the road, though she knew she would have to stop soon. Her phone began to ring again but this time, contrasting to the numerous amount of calls from Pete, Patrick's ID came lighting up. Beata let an idea come to her head. She spun her car around and headed straight for Patrick's. Smiling, as she knew exactly what she could do to hurt Pete more.
*****
Ciao Bella
Beata was hit hard. No one had ever hurt her in this way before, she assume naturally that Pete would be completely faithful to her, and like a fool, she believed it until her heart swelled with more love with him. But one simple kiss, one touch, one fuck, sent her world crashing down around her. On her tongue were memories of his taste, which now harboured bitterness and it made her nauseous. Her throat was raw from choking tears and alcohol veins. An empty bottle of vodka lay destitute in the trashcan, and her head spun from its consumption.
Did Pete ever love her? She was starting to believe it couldn't be true. Every word he said to her, sweet nothings, now turned into sentences of deceit. Every gift that he gave her out of love, were now symbols of his affair. Tainted with the thoughts of what he had done. Beata couldn't move for a while, a few days she spent lying in the sheets, breathing in the scents that covered it. Wishing she could block out any image of her and Pete entwining in lust, because as soon as she did, the image was contort itself to Pete and that girl, and again she would throw up.
Today though, today was different. Beata woke up from her pit of self-loathing, her head pounding from mistakes and alcohol. She peeled of the clothing that she had lounge around in for the past 7 days. Removing her clothes she stepped into her shower. Feeling the beats of clean water was away the dirt upon her skin. She let the spray soak her hair. Beata ran her fingers through, shaking her head as she closed her eyes to the fresh water on her face. She smiled to her self though she had no reason to.
She opened mass amounts of drawers and found the perfect outfit. A pair of tight skinny jeans that she hardly wore but outlined her impeccable curves. She slipped them on over her small black thongs. Beata grabbed a studded belt and wrapped it around her waist for show. She covered her small pert breasts with her bra and placed a black vest top over it. Grabbing a yellow long sleeved top, she placed it over her head and breathed in as the top clung to her arms. She spent a couple of minutes applying make up and brushing her hair, then slipped on some converse that were new. She picked up her bag, making sure that she had her collection of items; keys, wallet, mobile. Beata took a second to finalise plans within her head, she winked to an invisible crowd and walked of. Determined to complete what her heart told her to do.
She adjusted the mirror to her car. Removing out of place lipstick and staring at herself into the mirror. "I forgive you," she whispered, rehearsing what she was going to do, "Pete I need you." The sentences filled her head, swimming around and knocked of one another as she headed out to find him. In her bag, her phone buzzed and vibrated, she glanced over to it momentarily, Patrick. Flashed on screen, Beata bit her lip, refusing to answer it but her pulse was racing in her neck. Beata couldn't help but feel guilt for ignoring Patrick, after all, none of this was his fault, and if she had been entirely honest to herself, she needed a friend more than ever. In the back of her mind, she decided that after she gained Pete back, she would make it up to Patrick. She missed him.
At a set of red traffic lights Beata took a fleeting moment to decide if this was what she wanted to do. Her phone had rung off and she pondered. Did she want Pete back? But the second she remember how much Pete had completed her loneliness. She screeched her tires as she turned the corner. Wanting him. Loving him.
Beata pulled up to Pete's house and made sure there were signs of him there. His car was pulled up outside and she in took a sharp lease of oxygen to calm her nerves, though a voice inside told her that she is not to blame, and it was Pete who should be in this position. She brushed the voice to one side and drummed out a beat before gathering up the bravery. Courage seeping into her cells. She slammed the car door shut behind her and walked, somewhat unevenly, up his driveway and to the front of his house. She rapped a couple of times on the front door.
Beata tapped her toes to a song that played within her head. Turning around for no reason to admire the beauty of the street in the sunlight. Her ears cocked at the sound of the locks opening in which she spun around.
"Pete -" she begun but was completely stopped in her tracks when she saw a pair of blue eyes staring at her. A waterfall of blond locks cascaded upon shoulders that were bare. The girl was wearing a bed sheet, wrapped around her evident nakedness. Beata eyes open wide in fury, recognising the girl from the malicious grin on her face. Beata took a step back.
"Can I help you?" The girl said with superior spite. Beata began to stutter until she heard a rhythm of steps fall down the stairs. Followed by Pete's voice.
"Grace what did I tell you about opening my door?" He began laughing as he wrapped his arms around Grace and snuggled his face into her neck, Grace giggled but kept her eyes on Beata. Pete looked up from Grace to see who had answered the door and automatically let go of Grace. He met Beata's eyes as they travelled up his body, finding that he was only dressed in underwear. "Shit, Beata this isn't what -"
Beata punched him in the mouth, sending him flying into the doorframe. Grace opened her mouth in shock, which was obviously faked. Pete grabbed the side of his face and regained his balance as Beata turned her heal and stormed off down the path, blood splurging from his mouth.
"Beata wait" he called out to her, jittery and nervous as she refused to look back. Beata climbed into the car and placed her foot down, speeding off in moment of madness. Pete watched her go, not knowing what he was supposed to do next.
Beata had managed to control her rage, long enough to control her car. She pulled into a nearby shop and bought a bottle of whiskey, managing to consume it all in a matter of seconds. She slammed her hands upon her wheel.
"FUCK!" She screamed and kept her eyes swiftly on the road, though she knew she would have to stop soon. Her phone began to ring again but this time, contrasting to the numerous amount of calls from Pete, Patrick's ID came lighting up. Beata let an idea come to her head. She spun her car around and headed straight for Patrick's. Smiling, as she knew exactly what she could do to hurt Pete more.
*****
Ciao Bella
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