Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Here Is Your Verse
Author's Note:
"Guilty Pleasure"s and thrusting Gabe Saportas go out to the following:
dflip07
i_heart_cliches
kissbetweenstars
pyrotechnist
harlequingirl
jewsicax
--delilah
this_girl_was
glindapsawyer
SingYourLungsOut
additional e-hugs go out to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. you guys are pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Love is a Battlefield
Heartache to heartache we stand, no promises, no demands. Love is a battlefield.
-Pat Benatar
---
Pete's POV
"Fuck..." I groaned, lifting my head from my notebook. Yet again, I had fallen asleep in pages of written///scratched out///rewritten words.
After cracking my neck, I sat up against the sofa and sighed. It was 8AM, meaning that I had 12 hours before playing the last show of the tour. 12 hours to wallow in regret and self-pity.
I sat there for a while, just staring out the window.
"Hey, Pete. You alright, man?" Patrick asked, taking a seat next to me.
"No, not really," I honestly replied. There wasn’t any use in pretending anymore.
"...Any news from Emi?"
"She hasn't returned any of my calls..."
"Listen, I'm really sorry about pushing you to tell her--"
"Patrick it's fine. If I didn't tell her, I'd still be clinging to the 'what if's and 'if only's. Emi knows that I still love her and if she doesn't feel the same way, at least I'll know I tried."
---
Tyson's POV
As I sat on the bus, I once again found myself dialing Emi's number. Out of habit, I tapped my foot against the floor while it rang.
"Hey, you've reached Emi's voicemail. Not in right now, so--"
"Shit!" I yelled, throwing my cell phone against the wall.
"Woah, Tyson!" Christina said. "Calm down."
"How the hell am I supposed to calm down when Emi hasn't called for the past week?! I don't even know why she left the tour in the first place!" I ranted.
"None of us know exactly what went down, but you have to give her some time to figure things out. Whatever happened got her really confused..."
"God!" I said, kicking the table in frustration. "I know something happened on that fucking Fall Out Boy bus. It's their fault she left."
"Ty, you've gotta stop the finger pointing. Blaming them isn't going to help anyone."
"Well it makes me feel a whole lot better..."
---
Joe's POV
We followed Gym Class into the venue, instruments in hand. As I trailed behind Matt and Disashi, someone shouldered past me, almost causing me to drop my guitar.
"Watch it!" Tyson said, looking back at me.
"You bumped into /me/," I said.
"Do you want to start something?" he asked, putting his bass down.
"Know what? Maybe I do," I replied. "Ever since Indianapolis you've been a complete douchebag. What the fuck's your problem?"
"You're my problem. You and your idiot friends ."
At this, I dropped my guitar and took a swing at him. I managed to hit his jaw before Andy grabbed my arms.
"You fucker!" he yelled, as Travis held him back.
"Ritter, if you wanna pick a fight, don't take it out on him," Pete said.
"This isn't your battle, Wentz," Tyson said, still staring me down.
"Yeah, it is," he said, stepping forward. Tyson broke his gaze with me and looked at Pete.
"I'm the reason Emi left."
Once those words left his lips, Tyson broke free from Travis' grip and tackled him to the ground. Pete managed to elbow him in the throat, but Tyson quickly recovered with a knee to the stomach.
"Tyson, STOP!" Christina yelled as they wrestled on the ground.
"What the fuck, Ty?!" Mike said, trying to break it up.
Charlie ran up and eventually pulled them apart, but not before Tyson got off a few more solid punches to Pete's stomach.
"Holy shit!" Patrick said, kneeling over him.
"Are you okay?" Nick asked, rushing over.
Pete nodded, but remained in fetal position.
"God, I'm really sorry, Pete," Nick said, helping him up.
"It's fine," he said, coughing.
After he calmed down, Charlie released Tyson from his death grip, leaving him to storm off into the venue.
---
Pete's POV
"Guys, I'm okay. Don't worry about it," I said, dusting myself off. Picking up my bass, I continued inside the venue. Everyone else silently followed.
Trick, Andy, Joe and I made our way to our dressing room. Mike, Chris, Nick and Christina offered me sympathetic smiles before going off to follow their pissed off lead singer.
"Thank God today's our last show," Andy said, taking a seat on the couch. "If I had to spend one more day with that fucktard, I would've gouged his eyes out with my drumsticks."
"Yeah, after today we won't have to deal with him or his anger issues," Patrick added.
"But can you really blame him?" I asked. "I mean, after he and Emi got into an argument, she came to our bus, and spent the night. Then when she got back to their bus, she packed her bags and left without telling him anything... Do you have any idea what he must think of us?"
When I looked up, I was met with silence. Patrick opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat.
"I deserved what happened out there..." I mumbled.
I looked down at my hands, not wanting to see their pity-filled faces. I caught sight of the X tattooed on the inside of my pinky and sighed.
I miss you, Em.
---
What'll happen now that the boys have stopped hitting each other and finally hit the stage?
RATE, REVIEW and or AIM me @ Disast3rous and you just might find out.
"Guilty Pleasure"s and thrusting Gabe Saportas go out to the following:
dflip07
i_heart_cliches
kissbetweenstars
pyrotechnist
harlequingirl
jewsicax
--delilah
this_girl_was
glindapsawyer
SingYourLungsOut
additional e-hugs go out to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. you guys are pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Love is a Battlefield
Heartache to heartache we stand, no promises, no demands. Love is a battlefield.
-Pat Benatar
---
Pete's POV
"Fuck..." I groaned, lifting my head from my notebook. Yet again, I had fallen asleep in pages of written///scratched out///rewritten words.
After cracking my neck, I sat up against the sofa and sighed. It was 8AM, meaning that I had 12 hours before playing the last show of the tour. 12 hours to wallow in regret and self-pity.
I sat there for a while, just staring out the window.
"Hey, Pete. You alright, man?" Patrick asked, taking a seat next to me.
"No, not really," I honestly replied. There wasn’t any use in pretending anymore.
"...Any news from Emi?"
"She hasn't returned any of my calls..."
"Listen, I'm really sorry about pushing you to tell her--"
"Patrick it's fine. If I didn't tell her, I'd still be clinging to the 'what if's and 'if only's. Emi knows that I still love her and if she doesn't feel the same way, at least I'll know I tried."
---
Tyson's POV
As I sat on the bus, I once again found myself dialing Emi's number. Out of habit, I tapped my foot against the floor while it rang.
"Hey, you've reached Emi's voicemail. Not in right now, so--"
"Shit!" I yelled, throwing my cell phone against the wall.
"Woah, Tyson!" Christina said. "Calm down."
"How the hell am I supposed to calm down when Emi hasn't called for the past week?! I don't even know why she left the tour in the first place!" I ranted.
"None of us know exactly what went down, but you have to give her some time to figure things out. Whatever happened got her really confused..."
"God!" I said, kicking the table in frustration. "I know something happened on that fucking Fall Out Boy bus. It's their fault she left."
"Ty, you've gotta stop the finger pointing. Blaming them isn't going to help anyone."
"Well it makes me feel a whole lot better..."
---
Joe's POV
We followed Gym Class into the venue, instruments in hand. As I trailed behind Matt and Disashi, someone shouldered past me, almost causing me to drop my guitar.
"Watch it!" Tyson said, looking back at me.
"You bumped into /me/," I said.
"Do you want to start something?" he asked, putting his bass down.
"Know what? Maybe I do," I replied. "Ever since Indianapolis you've been a complete douchebag. What the fuck's your problem?"
"You're my problem. You and your idiot friends ."
At this, I dropped my guitar and took a swing at him. I managed to hit his jaw before Andy grabbed my arms.
"You fucker!" he yelled, as Travis held him back.
"Ritter, if you wanna pick a fight, don't take it out on him," Pete said.
"This isn't your battle, Wentz," Tyson said, still staring me down.
"Yeah, it is," he said, stepping forward. Tyson broke his gaze with me and looked at Pete.
"I'm the reason Emi left."
Once those words left his lips, Tyson broke free from Travis' grip and tackled him to the ground. Pete managed to elbow him in the throat, but Tyson quickly recovered with a knee to the stomach.
"Tyson, STOP!" Christina yelled as they wrestled on the ground.
"What the fuck, Ty?!" Mike said, trying to break it up.
Charlie ran up and eventually pulled them apart, but not before Tyson got off a few more solid punches to Pete's stomach.
"Holy shit!" Patrick said, kneeling over him.
"Are you okay?" Nick asked, rushing over.
Pete nodded, but remained in fetal position.
"God, I'm really sorry, Pete," Nick said, helping him up.
"It's fine," he said, coughing.
After he calmed down, Charlie released Tyson from his death grip, leaving him to storm off into the venue.
---
Pete's POV
"Guys, I'm okay. Don't worry about it," I said, dusting myself off. Picking up my bass, I continued inside the venue. Everyone else silently followed.
Trick, Andy, Joe and I made our way to our dressing room. Mike, Chris, Nick and Christina offered me sympathetic smiles before going off to follow their pissed off lead singer.
"Thank God today's our last show," Andy said, taking a seat on the couch. "If I had to spend one more day with that fucktard, I would've gouged his eyes out with my drumsticks."
"Yeah, after today we won't have to deal with him or his anger issues," Patrick added.
"But can you really blame him?" I asked. "I mean, after he and Emi got into an argument, she came to our bus, and spent the night. Then when she got back to their bus, she packed her bags and left without telling him anything... Do you have any idea what he must think of us?"
When I looked up, I was met with silence. Patrick opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat.
"I deserved what happened out there..." I mumbled.
I looked down at my hands, not wanting to see their pity-filled faces. I caught sight of the X tattooed on the inside of my pinky and sighed.
I miss you, Em.
---
What'll happen now that the boys have stopped hitting each other and finally hit the stage?
RATE, REVIEW and or AIM me @ Disast3rous and you just might find out.
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