Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Here Is Your Verse


by killxsmile 3 reviews

going on a guilt trip.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Published: 2007-09-29 - Updated: 2007-09-29 - 1403 words - Complete

Author's Note: School hasn't let up, but I like writing more than AP chemistry homework.

I kinda LOVE the following people:

They're the reason I post updates.

Chapter Thirty-One: Memory

Get back, back, back to the disaster. My heart's beating faster, holding on to feel the same.

Emi's POV

I was only gone for a few hours, but my cell phone seemed to tell another story.

49 missed calls.
25 new voicemails.
31 new text messages

Staring at the illuminated screen, I contemplated whether or not I should get back to any of them. The only one I felt obligated to call was Travis, and I had already done that once I arrived at the hotel.

As I sat on the bed trying to figure out who to call, my cell started ringing. I was on the verge of hitting ignore, but I noticed that my caller ID didn't recognize the number. Curiosity got the best of me and I picked up.

"Hello?" I said, wondering who was on the other end.
"Hey, Em, it's Trick."
"Hey, what's up?"
"Just calling to make sure that you're still alive," he joked.
"Glad to know that I'm missed."
"Yeah..." he said, awkwardly trailing off. "Everyone really misses you... Andy and Joe keep complaining that they have no one to play Mortal Kombat with." I let out a half-hearted laugh.

"Is Pete doing alright?" I asked. Patrick sighed before replying.
"To tell you the truth, he's not taking it too well... I've tried talking to him, but he just mumbles something about allergies and shuts me out."
"Oh..." I didn't know what else to say.
"Em, I'm not going to pry and ask what went down on the bus. But I know for a fact that Pete's still in love with you." I bit my lip and remained silent. "Shit, I've gotta go. The show's going to start in a few."
"Okay, bye."

Feeling guilty, I closed my cell and tossed it back into my purse.

"What the fuck did I get myself into?" I asked no one in particular while collapsing onto the bed.

I pulled out my iPod and set it to shuffle. It seemed that God was smiling down on me because the song that began to play wasn't by the All-American Rejects, Fall Out Boy or even Gym Class. It was a song off The OC soundtrack-- Jem's cover of 'Maybe I'm Amazed.'

As her voice floated through my ears, Emerson made his way up my duffel bag and onto the bed. He crawled over to me and rested on my chest.

...Maybe I'm a girl and maybe I'm a lonely girl
who's in the middle of something
that she doesn't really understand

Maybe I'm a girl and maybe you're the only man
who could ever help me
Baby, won't you help me understand?

I'd never thought about the lyrics before, but they definitely applied to my situation.

I know I'm in love with a bassist.
But the question is, which one?

Since my iPod wasn't helping the situation, I decided that a distraction was in order. I left my cell phone on the nightstand, then scooped Emerson into my arms.

"Sightseeing should get my mind off of things."

I grabbed my purse and wandered around the city. It was refreshing to walk around, not knowing/not caring where I was going. Interesting architecture, busy people, colorful storefronts. Picturesque scenery made me happy that I brought my camera along.

I eventually came across a Borders. My feet were tired and my stomach was empty, so I gratefully stepped inside.

Ordering a sandwich at the café, I reminisced about my old job. Price checks. CD shipments. Charlotte and her relentless holiday shifts. Good times...well not really, but I'd kill for things to be that simple again.

Before sitting down at a table, I grabbed the nearest tabloid from the magazine rack. Reading ridiculous stories about Hollywood starlets was a guilty pleasure of mine.

Angelina and Brad break up? Eddy Murphy fathers Spice Girl's baby. Eva Longoria & Tony Parker wedding photos. Nicole Richie confirms pregnancy.

Under a picture of Gerard Way and Lyn-Z, I was surprised to see a picture of Pete and myself. It was taken after we had pulled an all-nighter on the hotel roof. We were walking around New York, looking for a place to eat. Hand in hand, Pete and I were laughing about something I couldn't recall.

Hollywood's favorite emo boy, Pete Wentz, looks like he's found a new love. Wentz's reps have no comment, but fans have reported seeing the mystery girl hanging out on Fall Out Boy's current tour with the All-American Rejects and Gym Class Heroes.

Upon returning to the hotel room, I saw that my phone had been working overtime. Even more voicemails and text messages had piled up.

"I'll have to check them sooner or later..."

Texts were easy to sort through since they were all pretty much the same.

Em, why'd you leave?

Where are you?

Are you coming back?

Voicemails, however, were a different story.

First up was Tyson.

"Emi, I know that I said I'd give you time to figure things out, but I really had to call you... Tour's going great-- fans are crazy as ever-- but it's not the same without you in the crowd..." He sighed before continuing. "...I really fucking miss you, you have no idea."

For the next few seconds, all I could hear was his breathing.

"I know our relationship was supposed to be no-strings-attached, but I think-- I know that I've fallen for you... Please just come back..."

Next was Christina.

"Hey Em. I know I've flooded your phone with text messages about how much I miss you, but I can't say it enough. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you a lot, a lot a lot...Things aren't exactly falling apart, but being here hasn't been the best experience lately. Since you left, Ty's been picking fights with the guys from Fall Out Boy... Nick and I have been running damage control, but we can only do so much... Shit, now I'm just getting you worried." She sighed, and I could visualize her pacing back and forth. "...Anyways, I hope that you sort out whatever you need to. See you back at the apartment. Love you, Em."

Then Travis.

"Ikuhara, it's McCoy. Just calling to say that the boys of Gym Class really miss you. I know it's only been a day, but it's weird being onstage without seeing your punk ass on the barricade, singing along with me... Anyways, I hope that you and Emerson are doing okay and that you've figured everything out... Don't be a stranger, Em. I don't wanna have to wait until the next tour to hang out... Love you and hope to see you soon."

And Pete.

"Emi," he said softly. "It's Pete." Just the tone of his voice caused my eyes to well up. I bit my lip and held the phone close to my ear.

"...I must've born under a bad sign, because whenever I'm with you, I just end up wrecking everything..."

The line went almost silent afterwards. Quiet sighs and shuffling noises were the only indication that he was still there.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

The next message started up, but I hung up mid-sentence and threw my cell phone across the room.


This is the second time that I've left Pete.
This is the first time I've left Tyson.
Running away is all I've ever been good at.

I leaned against the wall and sank to the floor. Emerson crawled into my lap and looked up at me with sad brown eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, Em..."

He directed his attention towards my hands, then started pawing at my tattooed pinky. I rested my head against the wall as a tear slipped from my eye.

Guilt trips have never been this bad.


Will Emi finally decide between 'tall and skinny' and 'short and emo'?

Does absence really make the heart grow fonder? Or does it make the boys on tour rip each other to shreds?

Will I ever finish my AP chemistry homework?


PS. If you want some comic relief, I updated 'Clandestine Industrues presents: disasteRomance' as well.
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