FicWad

Everything happened so fast today. They all threw it onto my shoulders like it was my fault. You see, I was hoping my fiancée was going to be coming home from the army, but it looked like I was wrong. After I got dressed, I walked downstairs to get some breakfast in our messy kitchen. When I got to the bottom, my whole family, and Lee's side, were sitting there with these grim looks on their faces. "Rachel, come here for a second," my mother said to me, calling me over.
When I walked over, she handed me a small scrap of dirty, ripped up paper. As I read the note, all the happiness ran out of my body as if it was Niagara Falls. I could not believe what the note read. I knew that everyone was going to yell at me for it. Our two families seemed very close, but Lee's never really like me. They blamed me for him going into the army, and now I had a really big feeling that they were going to scream their heads off for this.
"Rachel!" Lee's mom, Krystal, screamed, "this is all your fault! How could you let something like this happen to our son!?!"
"Krystal, he had a choice. I told him if he stayed here that I would marry him, and if he didn't then I would find someone else. He left. He's no longer my fault or concern. I never really liked him anyway," I replied with a really snotty tone. It is true, I never really liked him. He never seemed to be interested in me. The only reason I was going to marry him was because my family really wanted to be on good terms with their family.
“How could you not have liked him that much!?! You seemed to be interested in him, the way you were always hanging on to him like a leach!" Krystal screamed at me, again. Her face was starting to turn a bright, beat read.
"Krystal, settle down," Jason, her husband, said trying to calm her.
"How can I be calm when she purposely killed our one and only son. I will never forgive her and I wish she would just die on this very spot!" By this time I was starting to cry. To this day, I have never been told off like I was by her.
"It's not my fault, it was his choice to go to the army and HE was the one that got killed in Iraq. I had nothing to do with the killing or planing of his death!" I screamed back. Now was the time to stomp out the door. Tears were coming down my face in waterfalls. I ran out the door slamming it behind me.
Fifteen minutes later I arrived at Starbucks, the one Patrick and I usually hang out at. Yeah, it's Patrick Stump I'm talking about. Now, since I was crying, my fingers fumbled around a while before they could type in his cell nrmber. After about two rings he picked up. "Hey Rachel. What's going on?" Patrick said when he picked up the phone.
"Trick," I replied into the phone, "do you think you could come and pick me up at the Starbucks we hang out at??" I've got to tell you though, the tears were coming on faster and stronger.
"I'm on my way," Trick said. I could hear him unlocking his car. "I should be there in about 2 minutes. I'll talk to you then. But for now, please try to stop crying."
"k Trick, I'll try. Just please hurry up." The crying was now starting to turn into sniffles.
My tears had stopped, and I sat on a small chair my the door. Soon Patrick would be there, and everything would be fine. And a few minutes afterwards, he pushed the door to the Starbucks open and came over to me. I didn't look at him. We walked out to his car, and silently, he turned the key and backed out. As soon as this happened, the questions started.
"What happened, Rachel?" He asked when we finally started to drive.
"He's Dead," I replied. He didn't say anything else for a while after. Then he pulled something from his pocket when we finally pulled into his driveway.
It was a ticket. To his show. A Backstage pass as well. Nice. I gave a weak smile. "I can't go. I don't want to-" But he handed the ticket to me anyway, knowing me far too well.
We got out of his car and I walked up the long path to his mansion-sized house and stepped in. I plopped on his white couch. I looked at him, then started to cry again. I wasn't exactly sure why, either. I'm just like that. Then Trick came in with two glasses of lemonade and passed one to me. I think I said thanks. It was kinda foggy after that.. I remember going home after a while and going to sleep. The next day, Trick called me up.
"Our show's tonight," he said.
"Sure." I wasn't really paying attention.
He noticed. "Are you listening to me?"
"Nope."
He sighed. "I know it's hard for you, and I want to make it up to you. So I got a ticket and backstage pass for you, you know hard those are to get. I got one just for you.” I rolled my eyes.
Fine, fine. I'll go. Six, right?"
"Yeah."
Later that night, I put on a pair of ripped black tint jeans and a tight black tee. How drab. I applied some black eyeshadow, then hopped the stairs, going to the driveway. Then I realized Patrick was going to pick me up. So I waited a few minutes before his car pulled in. I jumped in the passenger side.
So you actually decided to come," Trick said.
“It's not so very great an idea to say that to me right now. I can still change my mind." He started the car, and backed out and onto the busy street.
Not anymore, unless you're gonna commit su1s1d3." I groaned at his sad attempt at a joke. "Though I never know with you, Rach." We made it to the giant outdoor stage in about 30 minutes. I could see the rest of the band and some other people setting up. I looked at the huge amps. Almost scary. Truth is, I'm afraid of crowds. I've only been to one Fall Out Boy show before. I know, I know, how lame me being friends with Trick and all. But I just don't like it. It scares me. That's why I was so precautious about going to this one. But I just wanted something to take my mind off of it. And this could probably do it.






Author's Note: If you want to help write this. Email me at Musiclover550@aol.com. If you guys want me to continute, please review. If I don't have at least one, the sotry stops right hear and now.
Cheers.