Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > To Make It Better
Turning 21 & An Empty Parking Lot
3 reviewsFor Pete everything is slowly sliding downhill. What or who will it take to bring him up again?
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Chapter 1:
Journal # 23
“12:01 am and I’m still sitting here under the moonlight, the stars, my tears. Sometimes I wonder if I should just tell someone all these feelings I keep locked inside my head. I hate the fact though that if I told someone they would probably pity me because supposedly I have the perfect lifestyle and nothing can ever go wrong in it. The fact that I shouldn’t feel sad or depressed just because I’m famous. I don’t think mom could possibly understand what I’m going through even I don’t understand it. I mean in a way I guess I do but I guess what I don’t understand is why I feel this way. I can understand how I can feel like this I just can’t grasp why. I hate it that I can’t control my feelings or my life even. I have best friends I could tell this too but I feel like I’m burdening them so as usual I come to this empty secluded parking lot and write everything down just so I can go back and lock it away like I never wrote it. I wish I could feel like I didn’t have to hide my feelings and that I could actually be happy instead of pretending to. I’ve pretended so long that I’ve gotten entirely way to good at it. Whether it’s a good thing or bad I’m not sure but I just can’t find a way to let my feelings go no matter how hard I search...”
“Fuck!” a young man, lost and alone, screams at the top of his lungs as he lets more of the tears fall. He was sure that he was done crying for the night but as his feelings came pouring out onto paper it all hit him all at once...again. He wasn’t sure how many nights he had ended up sitting here just crying and sometimes not even knowing that he was. He knew that no one could find him here so that was why he probably came here so much. As he sits there he begins to think that he should probably get back before someone goes out looking for him if they even realize he’s gone, “I wish someone knew so I wouldn’t have to hide anymore,” he says as he quietly gets up off the yellow parking curb putting his pen and paper into his hoodie pocket.
“I’m actually surprised by the fact that someone hasn’t tried to follow me when I leave, especially Patrick, considering that he’s my best friend and he’s supposedly the one who worries about me the most,” he thinks to himself as he walks down the all too familiar back streets that he’s walked down so many times before. As he’s walking noticing, and practically, counting all the cracks in the side walk he suddenly loses his count as he’s collided into by someone. He’s completely taken aback and knocked on his ass as he looks up. His jaw kind of drops because he knows who it is. He could tell those eyes anywhere no matter how much makeup she does or doesn’t cake onto them.
She merely gives a shrug and apologizes as if she doesn’t know him and walks away disappearing around the side of a building.....their building, well, at least it used to be. To her he was simply a stranger, he could see it in her eyes but to him, she was....his life. As he stands up and brushes the back of his pants off, he continues to walk sadness hitting him hard and tears coming out of no where.
He wasn’t crying because she didn’t recognize him because in a weird way he knew that she did. He was crying because she just left and didn’t want to know how he’d been doing or anything. No matter what they had gone through in the past she always asked him how he was doing every time she saw him no matter if she wanted to talk to him or not. Most of the time his pain was her fault and half the time her pain was his. She had hurt him so many times and he was angry at himself for crying over her yet again.
He couldn’t grasp the fact that after everything she put him through he was bothered because she didn’t stop and talk to him. He should have been jumping for joy that she didn’t want to talk to him He was, instead, walking alone, not even four feet away from his house, crying like a fool and he knew that as soon as someone saw him they were going to immediately ask him what was wrong. If someone was still up. He quickly found out that everyone was up because as soon as he looked up at his windows that stood on each side of his hard wood black and red front door, he noticed people dancing and smiling.
He had completely forgotten that Joe was having his twenty first birthday party and that he was going to look like an idiot if he went in there crying like a fool. He silently tries to sneak around to the back of the house to his bedroom window without being spotted but he wasn’t so lucky because as soon as he makes it to his window and is in the process of opening it he hears his name.
“Pete?” he hears Patrick say and he knows he’s fucked because he couldn’t hide it when he cries, (hence the reason as to why he was always alone in a parking lot in the middle of the night), and the questions come on just like he doesn’t want them too, “Are you okay? Where have you been? Why are you crying? What happened?”
Pete debates on whether or not he should answer every question one at a time or just simply say nothing and continue to climb into his bedroom window. He decides on the latter and continues climbing basically ignoring his best friend. When his feet touch his carpeted floor he turns around to look at Patrick and he was still standing there his arms crossed and his eyes full of worry.
“It’s nothing I really want to talk about right now okay?” he sees Patrick kind of just give him this look like but.... at first but then it changes and he just turns to walk away. Pete knows that Patrick is sick and tired of him always masking the way he feels and that this time he probably crossed the line with it. Patrick is either one: done asking him what was wrong, giving up basically or two: going to talk to him about it as soon as he makes his way into the house and Pete’s bedroom door.
So here's Chapter 1. Please review
Journal # 23
“12:01 am and I’m still sitting here under the moonlight, the stars, my tears. Sometimes I wonder if I should just tell someone all these feelings I keep locked inside my head. I hate the fact though that if I told someone they would probably pity me because supposedly I have the perfect lifestyle and nothing can ever go wrong in it. The fact that I shouldn’t feel sad or depressed just because I’m famous. I don’t think mom could possibly understand what I’m going through even I don’t understand it. I mean in a way I guess I do but I guess what I don’t understand is why I feel this way. I can understand how I can feel like this I just can’t grasp why. I hate it that I can’t control my feelings or my life even. I have best friends I could tell this too but I feel like I’m burdening them so as usual I come to this empty secluded parking lot and write everything down just so I can go back and lock it away like I never wrote it. I wish I could feel like I didn’t have to hide my feelings and that I could actually be happy instead of pretending to. I’ve pretended so long that I’ve gotten entirely way to good at it. Whether it’s a good thing or bad I’m not sure but I just can’t find a way to let my feelings go no matter how hard I search...”
“Fuck!” a young man, lost and alone, screams at the top of his lungs as he lets more of the tears fall. He was sure that he was done crying for the night but as his feelings came pouring out onto paper it all hit him all at once...again. He wasn’t sure how many nights he had ended up sitting here just crying and sometimes not even knowing that he was. He knew that no one could find him here so that was why he probably came here so much. As he sits there he begins to think that he should probably get back before someone goes out looking for him if they even realize he’s gone, “I wish someone knew so I wouldn’t have to hide anymore,” he says as he quietly gets up off the yellow parking curb putting his pen and paper into his hoodie pocket.
“I’m actually surprised by the fact that someone hasn’t tried to follow me when I leave, especially Patrick, considering that he’s my best friend and he’s supposedly the one who worries about me the most,” he thinks to himself as he walks down the all too familiar back streets that he’s walked down so many times before. As he’s walking noticing, and practically, counting all the cracks in the side walk he suddenly loses his count as he’s collided into by someone. He’s completely taken aback and knocked on his ass as he looks up. His jaw kind of drops because he knows who it is. He could tell those eyes anywhere no matter how much makeup she does or doesn’t cake onto them.
She merely gives a shrug and apologizes as if she doesn’t know him and walks away disappearing around the side of a building.....their building, well, at least it used to be. To her he was simply a stranger, he could see it in her eyes but to him, she was....his life. As he stands up and brushes the back of his pants off, he continues to walk sadness hitting him hard and tears coming out of no where.
He wasn’t crying because she didn’t recognize him because in a weird way he knew that she did. He was crying because she just left and didn’t want to know how he’d been doing or anything. No matter what they had gone through in the past she always asked him how he was doing every time she saw him no matter if she wanted to talk to him or not. Most of the time his pain was her fault and half the time her pain was his. She had hurt him so many times and he was angry at himself for crying over her yet again.
He couldn’t grasp the fact that after everything she put him through he was bothered because she didn’t stop and talk to him. He should have been jumping for joy that she didn’t want to talk to him He was, instead, walking alone, not even four feet away from his house, crying like a fool and he knew that as soon as someone saw him they were going to immediately ask him what was wrong. If someone was still up. He quickly found out that everyone was up because as soon as he looked up at his windows that stood on each side of his hard wood black and red front door, he noticed people dancing and smiling.
He had completely forgotten that Joe was having his twenty first birthday party and that he was going to look like an idiot if he went in there crying like a fool. He silently tries to sneak around to the back of the house to his bedroom window without being spotted but he wasn’t so lucky because as soon as he makes it to his window and is in the process of opening it he hears his name.
“Pete?” he hears Patrick say and he knows he’s fucked because he couldn’t hide it when he cries, (hence the reason as to why he was always alone in a parking lot in the middle of the night), and the questions come on just like he doesn’t want them too, “Are you okay? Where have you been? Why are you crying? What happened?”
Pete debates on whether or not he should answer every question one at a time or just simply say nothing and continue to climb into his bedroom window. He decides on the latter and continues climbing basically ignoring his best friend. When his feet touch his carpeted floor he turns around to look at Patrick and he was still standing there his arms crossed and his eyes full of worry.
“It’s nothing I really want to talk about right now okay?” he sees Patrick kind of just give him this look like but.... at first but then it changes and he just turns to walk away. Pete knows that Patrick is sick and tired of him always masking the way he feels and that this time he probably crossed the line with it. Patrick is either one: done asking him what was wrong, giving up basically or two: going to talk to him about it as soon as he makes his way into the house and Pete’s bedroom door.
So here's Chapter 1. Please review
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