Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Smells Like Teen Spirit
Smells Like Teen Spirit
0 reviewsHigh School Setting. Patrick pretty much hates the life he lives and the live he's forced to undergo, but when he meets a jewish kid with afro and a slight lisp things turn around for him. Goes thr...
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Patrick Martin Stump was a 16-year-old, 5’3, dateless, student who lived most of his life at his boring, public, shitty school, and lives a boring, shitty life, with his Mom and His brother, Kevin. Patrick doesn’t really get around to seeing his Dad that much. Only one weekend each month
because Patrick’s Dad lived too far from Glenview Junior for Patrick to walk, and he’d be too enhanced in music to drive there, so he let Patrick have the day off.
Which, in all honesty, Patrick didn’t mind. Not one tiny bit. He hated school anyway. He was constantly teased for his glasses, his height, and he’s thinning hair. Patrick was kind of skinny, too, and , somehow, it made him look shorter, instead oftaller. Now how that happened is a mystery to everyone in Patrick’s family, Patrick included.
So, he’d spend the week at home, learning how to play the drums. He couldn’t learn guitar, as bad as he wanted to, purely because his hands couldn’t fit around the neck. So, as a kid, he’d sit there on the drum stool, hitting as hard as he could. He was surprisingly loud for such a small kid.
After about 3 months, Glenview Junior High took concern in Patrick’s well-being. He’d been away 6 weeks, and that was far too many days to be away, especially in the span of 3 months. So, Patrick’s mother had asked his father about it, and then they fought, and argued. It resulted in Patricks Mom saying that Patrick should only stay weekends and holidays at His Dad’s house, which Patrick was upset about, because he genuinely liked being around his Dad.
His dad was a folk singer, for God’s sake. Of course he loved music as much as Patrick, if not more.
It seemed that Patrick’s Mom took everything good away from him. Replace “everything” with “Patricks Dad”.
His Mom constantly made him clean his room (which was always a mess. Musical booklets and CD’s, records, a record player, real old-fashion record player that Patrick got from his Dad as a gift on his 11th birthday, bad clothes that his Mom chose out for him, photo albums, photographs that Patrick liked to look at because it reminded him of a time his family wasn’t torn apart, drum sticks (he had 15..he’d lost the 16th one) lots of plectrums,though he had no guitar, chip packets and empty coke cans, pens, pencils, posters, notebooks filled with shitty lyrics, notebooks filled with school notes, text books from school and a couple of phone books (god knows what they were doing in Patrick’s room) were just a few things found).
She also made him wear clothes that he hated, hated, hated, despised. She made him go to school, everday, and study, and study hard so he’d get good grades. Like He Cared about school.
She wouldn’t let him watch more than 2 hours of TV everyday, but she would let him listen to music anyday, anytime, anywhere.
Patrick had stacks of cassette tapes that he’s Dad mailed to him, and he’d even gotten a walkman. For last Christmas, however, Kevin had taken pity on him and gotten him a portable CD player. Trackman? Was that what they were called. Patrick couldn’t remember.
Patrick loved his Mom, he really, truly did. She made the best Pumpkin squares. But Patrick couldn’t stand her sometimes, and when She asked him to get a job, get out of the house on weekends, well, this was one of those times.
Patrick put an application in for Borders. When his Mom found out it was Borders. Borders, of all places, she’d sighed and shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“What? What’s wrong with Borders, Mom?” Patrick had questioned.
“Nothing, dear. Nothing. It’s just. Borders. Isn’t that a music and book store? God knows you could catch up on some reading, but i’m sure they’d put you in the music section right away,”
“Yeah, And?” Patrick was obviously failing to see his Mother’s concern.
Patricia sighed.
“It’s just. Patrick, I don’t want you turning out like David. He loves music, he loves it so much he forgot he had other responsibilities in life, other things he loved,”
“He didn’t, Mom. He never forgot. And he loves Music. So what? I still fail to see whats bad about working in Borders”
“Patrick this is the first step to becoming like David. You get stuck in a music store. Make a few friends who like music. They’ll convince you to join a band, you’ll tour, go no where with your life, come back, and be living with me until you’re 40, or struggling to pay bills like David. You know how many time’s i’ve let him off Child Support money? You know the reason you’re going to a public school is because David can’t pay his half, right? Patrick, i respect you love music. But—oh who am i kidding. Its just a weekend job. Don’t worry, darling. It’s just something you’ll learn your responsibilities for. Then you can apply to colleges, get in, study, then get a good job, settle down, have kids.
Instead of raking up money on the sidewalk while you play that forsaken banjo. “ She shook her head at her husbands stupidity.
To be honest, Patrick could kind of see where Patricia was coming from, but she’d gotten herself too worked up about it. It was just an after-school job, something to do so he wasn’t “stuck at home” so he wasn’t “bored”. Patricia had said apply for something that interested him, and so he did.
But, for his and his Mothers sake, he hoped he didn’t get the stupid job.
**
He Did.
because Patrick’s Dad lived too far from Glenview Junior for Patrick to walk, and he’d be too enhanced in music to drive there, so he let Patrick have the day off.
Which, in all honesty, Patrick didn’t mind. Not one tiny bit. He hated school anyway. He was constantly teased for his glasses, his height, and he’s thinning hair. Patrick was kind of skinny, too, and , somehow, it made him look shorter, instead oftaller. Now how that happened is a mystery to everyone in Patrick’s family, Patrick included.
So, he’d spend the week at home, learning how to play the drums. He couldn’t learn guitar, as bad as he wanted to, purely because his hands couldn’t fit around the neck. So, as a kid, he’d sit there on the drum stool, hitting as hard as he could. He was surprisingly loud for such a small kid.
After about 3 months, Glenview Junior High took concern in Patrick’s well-being. He’d been away 6 weeks, and that was far too many days to be away, especially in the span of 3 months. So, Patrick’s mother had asked his father about it, and then they fought, and argued. It resulted in Patricks Mom saying that Patrick should only stay weekends and holidays at His Dad’s house, which Patrick was upset about, because he genuinely liked being around his Dad.
His dad was a folk singer, for God’s sake. Of course he loved music as much as Patrick, if not more.
It seemed that Patrick’s Mom took everything good away from him. Replace “everything” with “Patricks Dad”.
His Mom constantly made him clean his room (which was always a mess. Musical booklets and CD’s, records, a record player, real old-fashion record player that Patrick got from his Dad as a gift on his 11th birthday, bad clothes that his Mom chose out for him, photo albums, photographs that Patrick liked to look at because it reminded him of a time his family wasn’t torn apart, drum sticks (he had 15..he’d lost the 16th one) lots of plectrums,though he had no guitar, chip packets and empty coke cans, pens, pencils, posters, notebooks filled with shitty lyrics, notebooks filled with school notes, text books from school and a couple of phone books (god knows what they were doing in Patrick’s room) were just a few things found).
She also made him wear clothes that he hated, hated, hated, despised. She made him go to school, everday, and study, and study hard so he’d get good grades. Like He Cared about school.
She wouldn’t let him watch more than 2 hours of TV everyday, but she would let him listen to music anyday, anytime, anywhere.
Patrick had stacks of cassette tapes that he’s Dad mailed to him, and he’d even gotten a walkman. For last Christmas, however, Kevin had taken pity on him and gotten him a portable CD player. Trackman? Was that what they were called. Patrick couldn’t remember.
Patrick loved his Mom, he really, truly did. She made the best Pumpkin squares. But Patrick couldn’t stand her sometimes, and when She asked him to get a job, get out of the house on weekends, well, this was one of those times.
Patrick put an application in for Borders. When his Mom found out it was Borders. Borders, of all places, she’d sighed and shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“What? What’s wrong with Borders, Mom?” Patrick had questioned.
“Nothing, dear. Nothing. It’s just. Borders. Isn’t that a music and book store? God knows you could catch up on some reading, but i’m sure they’d put you in the music section right away,”
“Yeah, And?” Patrick was obviously failing to see his Mother’s concern.
Patricia sighed.
“It’s just. Patrick, I don’t want you turning out like David. He loves music, he loves it so much he forgot he had other responsibilities in life, other things he loved,”
“He didn’t, Mom. He never forgot. And he loves Music. So what? I still fail to see whats bad about working in Borders”
“Patrick this is the first step to becoming like David. You get stuck in a music store. Make a few friends who like music. They’ll convince you to join a band, you’ll tour, go no where with your life, come back, and be living with me until you’re 40, or struggling to pay bills like David. You know how many time’s i’ve let him off Child Support money? You know the reason you’re going to a public school is because David can’t pay his half, right? Patrick, i respect you love music. But—oh who am i kidding. Its just a weekend job. Don’t worry, darling. It’s just something you’ll learn your responsibilities for. Then you can apply to colleges, get in, study, then get a good job, settle down, have kids.
Instead of raking up money on the sidewalk while you play that forsaken banjo. “ She shook her head at her husbands stupidity.
To be honest, Patrick could kind of see where Patricia was coming from, but she’d gotten herself too worked up about it. It was just an after-school job, something to do so he wasn’t “stuck at home” so he wasn’t “bored”. Patricia had said apply for something that interested him, and so he did.
But, for his and his Mothers sake, he hoped he didn’t get the stupid job.
**
He Did.
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