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Author's Note: Woah. The amount of reviews for the last chapter pretty much blew my mind. Love and silly string go out to:

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You guys are the ones that keep me going.

Chapter 19: Iris

And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand.
-Goo Goo Dolls

*
Emi's POV

Dialing Pete's number, I wondered what was going on. He was never the type who would miss a call, nonetheless 3 of them in a row. I figured that he wasn't going to pick up the phone anytime soon, so I left a message.

"Hey, Pete. It's Emi," I said, trying to mask my worry. "Just calling to say that I got to California in one piece... Anyways, I really miss you. Call me back when you get this. Bye."

After putting my phone away, I followed my roommate down a corridor and into an empty room.

Looking at the bare walls of the dorm, I sighed. Just another reminder of how new everything was.

I had a blank slate, an untouched canvas. Some people would kill for an opportunity like this, but all I could think about was my life back in Chicago and everything that I left behind. Homesickness didn't even begin to cover how much I missed Parker Avenue.

I missed waking up to the smell of my mom's pancakes.

I missed how Pharrell would come bursting into my room while I was doing homework.

I missed discussing Arthur episodes with Ben.

I missed the weird snorting noise that Liv would make when she thought something was really
funny.

I missed arguing with Jasper over stupid things like Monopoly.

I missed how my hand fit perfectly into Pete's...

I set down my boxes and wondered where to begin. Looking down at my belongings, I couldn't believe how little I brought with me. It's funny how you can pack up your whole life in a few cardboard containers.

"Mind if I put on some music?" Christina asked, setting up her stereo.
"No, go ahead." She dug through a duffel bag and pulled out a couple of CDs.
"Ah, here we go." She popped in 'Based On A True Story' and Kenny's voice soon filled the room.

I took my the box marked 'entertainment, yo' and sliced it open with a box cutter. Even simple things like that reminded me of Illinois. Working at Borders, going through CD shipments. Seems like yesterday that Pete was stalking me at work... I half-heartedly smiled at the memory and sorted through the box's contents: DVD player, iPod speakers, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Saw, The Italian Job, Jackass, High Fidelity, Pretty in Pink, Kill Bill, Say Anything, Lucky # Slevin, a bunch of other DVD's and of course my beloved CD collection.

"Oh crap," I said, sensing that I forgot to pack something.
"Wutcha looking for?" Christina asked as I flipped the box upside down.
"My copy of 'Say It Like You Mean It.' I could swear that I packed it..."
"Maybe it's in in another box?"
"I guess..." I pushed it out of my mind and continued filing my CDs into a stand next to the television. However, a few minutes later, what really happened hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was dancing to 'Stay Where I Can See You' and singing into my hairbrush when Pete decided to make an appearance.

"You're adorable, you know that?" he said, leaning against the doorframe.
"As a matter of fact, I do." He took a seat on my bed and watched me jump around the room and belt out lyrics.
"They sound good," he said, bobbing his head to the music. "Who are they?"
"The Starting Line, only my favorite band in the world." He laughed and pulled me onto his lap.
"If they're as amazing as you say, I think I might have to borrow this CD..."

"...When you go away I get so low, like temperatures when they're at their coldest. When you go away I get so lonely, and I'm standing by the side of the bed."

"Hey, are you okay?" Christina asked, snapping me out of my daze. "You look kinda down."
"Yeah," I said, blinking back tears. I was trying to convince not only her, but also myself. "Just...thinking."

Damnit Wentz. Why do I have to miss you so much?

*
Pete's POV

3 Missed Calls

I contemplated those words for about an hour before turning my cell phone off. As I laid in bed, trying to clear the guilt of ignoring Emi's calls, the house phone began to ring.

First ring. Should I pick it up?
Second ring. Yes, I should.
Third ring. But I won't.

I buried my head in a pillow and sighed. A few seconds later, my mom came in, phone in hand.

"It's Jasper."

Confused, stood up and took the it from her.

"Hello?"
"Pete, you're alive."
"Yeah, why would you think otherwise?"
"Well Emi just called me and she said you had your phone off."
"What? I can't miss a few calls?"
"So you admit that you're avoiding her."
"Who said that I'm avoiding her?"
"I do, Pete. You never miss a phone call, let alone one from Em... She really misses you. Why don't you talk to her?" I sighed and sat back down.
"...She's trying to start a new life. I don't want her to be hung up on some loser from Chicago..."
"It's because she's starting a new life that you should give her a call. She's scared as hell out there and she needs someone to tell her that it'll be okay."
"She has you and Liv."
"You and I both know it's not the same...Don't you care?"
"Of course I care!" Frustrated, I ran my free hand through my hair. "But this is hard for me too, okay," I quietly added. "She's eventually going to move on. Guys like me are a dime a dozen on the west coast. Emi's going to forget about me, while I'm stuck here writing songs about the one who got away."
"By the way she was talking about you, I doubt she'll be moving on any time soon." I sighed.
"Even if I did call her, what would I say, Jasper? 'Hey, Emi. Have a nice life in California without me.'"
"Would you stop being sarcastic for a second and just listen to me?"
"I'll talk to you later."
"Pete-"
"I really don't want to talk about this."
"Just-"
"Bye, Jasper." I put the phone back on the receiver and looked at the shoebox on my desk.

The only things I had left of her were photo booth pictures and a few CDs that she left at my house. "She loved the Starting Line..."

I put the CD into my stereo then laid down on my bed. "Hope this works..." Music was therapeutic for me. There was nothing better than playing shows for kids who actually wanted to listen. For kids like Emi... But for now just listening to music would be good enough.

I was doing okay until the eighth song, conveniently titled 'Leaving.'

"...Few scenes from my life where moments mean more to me
than our fine nights,
I remember like yesterday, the time of my life
Please don't leave me without saying goodbye, without saying goodbye..."

*
Patrick's POV

I rang the doorbell, half-expecting an inebriated Pete to answer and tell me to 'go the fuck home.' Joe and Andy tried calling him, but were only met with yelling and dial tones.

Checking up on him seemed to be the most effective means of communication. He couldn't use an answering machine to screen visitors or put on his away message and expect me to leave.

Standing on the porch, I braced myself for a big argument. However, instead of facing an angry confrontation, his brother opened the door and let me in.

"Thank God you're here..." Andrew said.
"How's Pete been holding up?"
"How do you think he's been holding up?" he asked, locking the front door. "He's been a complete mess for the last few days."
"It's that bad?"
"You'd think that Emi died or something...but you know how he is, always the drama king--"

A loud crash from upstairs interrupted Andrew's mini-rant.

"What the fuck?"

We ran up the stairs and tried opening Pete's door. As expected, it was locked.

"Pete, you okay?" I called, knocking on the door.

No response.

"Pete?"

Through the door, we heard shuffling on the other side. After a few seconds, the knob slowly turned.

Click.

With a soft creak, the door opened.
It was worse than I expected.

Dark rings hung around his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept since Emi left. In fact, he probably didn't sleep since Emi left. Insomnia always got the best of him in stressful situations. Like a few years back, when his parents separated. They're back together now, but when his dad moved out, Pete went into this phase where he would stay up writing songs until 5AM then mope in his room for the rest of the day. No sleep. He was just a shell of a person.

As he stepped aside from the door, I saw the source of the crashing noise. A stereo laid in pieces on the floor, beside his bed. A simple fall wouldn't have caused that much of a mess.

Damage like that could only be intentional.

Pete retrieved an unscathed CD from the crumpled mess and placed it back in its case.

"I'm fine, you guys."
"Sure doesn't look like it," Andrew said.
"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" he said, glaring at his brother.
"I was just trying to help...Good luck with him, Patrick." With that, Andrew retreated downstairs.

"Pete-"
"I don't want to hear it Trick. I already feel shitty enough as is..."
"You don't even know what I was going to say." I took a seat on his bed while he kicked around the remnants of what used to be his stereo.
"Fine, try and surprise me."
"It's just... Emi wouldn't have wanted to see you like this." He took a seat across from me and sighed. "I didn't know her that well, but she seemed happiest when you were laughing with each other..."

He sat there, unresponsive, just staring out the window. I could tell that the conversation would remain one-sided.

"Me and the guys will be here if you need to talk." He nodded. I patted him on the back and let myself out.

*

Yes, I am aware that Pete and Emi's relationship isn't looking too great at the moment. dodges tomatoes and bottles once again But without lows there wouldn't be any highs.

Reminder: REVIEWS = MORE CHAPTERS.

PS. If you want some comic relief, read my other story, "Clandestine Industries Presents: disasteRomance." I promise it'll make you laugh.