Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Young Hearts Be Free
So, I have been made aware, by…myself, that in the first or second chapter I said Say Anything was a John Hughes movie. It’s not, it’s Cameron Crowe. I should know that. It’s one of my favorite movies. So I apologize, and accept my title as the WORST film school student ever. On with the story…
Izzie woke up suddenly to a tapping sound somewhere in her room. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and looked around. She couldn’t see anything that was making it. Her head spun towards the window as she heard it again. “Psst! Hey!” She glanced over at the clock. 12:37. It wasn’t too late, but it was a school night. Shuffling to the window, she pulled it open and looked out to see Pete standing in her backyard throwing rocks.
“What are you doing? I was asleep.” She yawned.
“You turned 18 half an hour ago.”
“I’ll be right there.” She stuck her head back in and pulled on some jeans. She grabbed her shoes and a hoodie and headed downstairs, not bothering with makeup or even brushing her hair. She walked out the back door and walked quietly over to Pete, still staring fixedly at her window. “What are we doing?” she whispered, stopping next to him and peering up at the window.
“Where’d you come from?” he looked at her, confused.
“The door.”
“I thought you’d come out the window.”
“When have I EVER come out the window?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“Where are we going?” she followed him across the yard to his car.
“We’re getting tattoos.”
“Cool.” She nodded.
“Are we almost done?” Steve whined as they were touched up and repositioned for the millionth time. They were doing the photo shoot in what looked like an old dance studio. There were mirrors on all the walls, and they had decorated it to look like a practice space on acid. There were amps and cables and random junk everywhere. But it was all color coordinated. Taylor elbowed him in the stomach and winked at the photographer, who in turn giggled at him. She didn’t look much older than the band, and must have been fresh out of school. She was tall, thin and blonde, and had a faint Swedish accent. She was a little star struck, especially around Taylor and got flustered whenever she gave them directions.
“At least you don’t have to do the interview afterwards.” Izzie groaned, straightening her skirt. She was wearing a black and hot pink plaid schoolgirl skirt, black corset top and a cropped pink vest over it with white knee socks and pink Converse. She had black leather cuff bracelets on each wrist and pink extensions in her hair that were all curled and fluffed, making her hair match her outfit perfectly.
“My jacket’s uncomfortable.” Kyle complained as the makeup girl powdered his forehead. He was wearing skinny jeans, a white shirt and a faded blue leather jacket. His short light brown hair that was normally gelled into a Mohawk, had been done with red gel, giving his hair a punkish tint. Steve had skinny jeans, and a white hoodie, with a green tee shirt under it. He and Taylor both had typical emo haircuts, except Steve’s was blond and Taylor’s was black, with all their hair combed forward and to one side in their eyes. When they weren’t careful, they could match WAY more than they wanted. Taylor was wearing black skinny jeans and a slim black button down shirt that made his tall skinny figure look even taller and skinnier. At 6’2”, he was the tallest in the band and exactly a foot taller than Izzie. All the guys were really tall, which made it difficult when they all had to get their picture taken.
“Who thinks the makeup girl’s got a hot rack?” Steve whispered once she left.
“They’re not real.” Izzie shook her head, stepping back up on her box, bringing her up to shoulder height on the guys.
“How can you tell?” Kyle squinted at the girl, standing on the other side of the room.
“I’m a girl, we just know these things.” She shrugged.
“The photographer’s hot.” Taylor ginned as she began snapping away.
“Yeah.” Kyle nodded.
“Are those real?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, and she totally has a thing for you.” Izzie nudged Taylor.
“Ok, we’re done the group shots, we can move on to the individuals.”
“Awesome! That means I get to do my interview.” Izzie smiled, sarcastically. She had gotten there an hour before everyone else and done her individual photos while they were all getting ready so they could all be done together. She spotted the interviewer in the corner where there was a couch and waved, she ducked into the dressing room to change before walking over.
“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting.” Izzie smiled, shaking the interviewer’s hand.
“Oh, it’s no problem. It gave me some time to look over my questions. There’s a Starbucks next door, do you want to go there where it’s a little quieter?”
“Oh, sure. That sounds perfect.” Izzie had become a master at sweet talking reporters and media people, and so had never had anything bad written about her. She could tell the person they were a fat cow with ugly clothes, and the article would say she ‘took time out of her busy schedule to give the reporter fashion advice.’
“So, let’s get started. My name’s Amy by the way.” Amy looked like she was trying really hard to look like Lindsay Lohan or an Olsen twin. She had long obvious extensions, a green mini dress that looked more like a top, black leggings and chunky black boots and giant sunglasses that were resting on top of her head.
“Great. Let’s get started.” Izzie smiled politely.
“So, the story’s going to mostly be about Izzie the person, not the music. Sort of what makes you, you, and how you got here.”
“Like my background.” Izzie nodded.
“Exactly!” Amy giggled. “I have all kinds of questions, so if there are any that seem too personal, you don’t have to answer.”
“Sounds good.”
“Ok, let’s start out easy. Do you have a middle name?”
“Yes, actually I have two. Gibson Disco.” Amy began scribbling in her notebook. “Yeah, my dad named me after his favorite guitar brand, and my mom claimed that Disco would never die.” Izzie giggled as Amy stared blankly at her. It was obviously lost on her.
“So, where did the name of the band come from? Lloyd Dobler.”
“Um, we were all big fans of John Cusack…”
“Is he a friend of yours?” This was going to be a LONG interview.
“no…he’s an actor. But we were watching the movie. Say Anything. And thought it would be a funny band name, to have a person’s name. It’s like Alice Cooper. It was the guy, but it was also the band.”
“Oh, ok.” Amy bubbled. “So you’re currently on tour with Fall Out Boy, right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re both from Chicago. Had you met them at all before starting the tour?”
“Actually, we were pretty good friends with all of them. Joe went to high school with all of us, he was actually my lab partner one year. I lived next door to Pete. But we sort of had a falling out.”
“How so?”
“Um…” she racked her brain for something good. “When we started getting big, they were really just starting out. The label moved us to New York, and we really didn’t have time to keep in touch. We just grew apart, I guess.” She faked remorse and thought ‘damn, I’m good.’ The interview dragged on from there. There were good questions:
“Your new album is called ‘Lloyd Dobler Presents Cocoon’. Where did that title come from?”
“Well, back to Say Anything. There’s one scene where the character is having a movie day in a senior center, and it’s written on the chalkboard behind him. The movie Cocoon is about a bunch of old people who get abducted by aliens. We just thought it was a funny thing to write on the board, and to show a bunch of old people.” Bad questions:
“The movie you’re talking about, Say Anything, does it have anything to do with the band?” Izzie stared blankly at her for a moment.
“No. I’m pretty sure they probably took their name from it too.”
“Oh, because I love Max Bemis.”
“Yeah…” Izzie looked at the clock on her phone and glanced out the window just as Patrick and Joe were walking by. Joe spotted her and waved like a maniac. And just plain weird ones:
“If you were an animal, which one would you be?”
“Uh…a penguin?”
“Why a penguin?” she nodded, thoughtfully.
“Honestly, it’s the first thing I thought of.” She shrugged and flipped her phone open while Amy began talking. “Keep going, I’m paying attention. I just remembered something and I don’t want to forget.” She pressed the button and sent her text message.
Patrick pulled out his phone when it vibrated in his pocket. He and Joe walking to the guitar store while Pete was moping in his hotel room, writing songs and Andy was off somewhere lifting weights or running in place or something. The message signaled that he had one new text message. He pressed OK and it popped up on the screen.
Help! Interview from hell. Save me.
He didn’t recognize the number at first and looked over at Joe, confused. “Does Pete have an interview?”
“No, but Izzie does. Why?” Patrick showed him the message. “Well we got to go save her! Do you know where it is?” he began running out of the store.
“Where are you going? Spaz.” He added under his breath. “Just play along.” The stood on the corner of the sidewalk as Patrick called the number back.
“I’m sorry, I’m expecting an important call.” Izzie interrupted Amy, flipping her phone open. “Hello?”
“Um…you have to come quick. It’s an emergency?” Patrick stammered, he wasn’t good at making stuff up on the spot.
“What’s wrong?” Joe scratched his head.
“Oh my god, is everyone ok?” Izzie replied, panicked.
“They will be, but you should get back here.” He gave Joe a look. “Joe cut his hand open.”
“OH GOD! THERE’S SO MUCH BLOOD!” Joe grinned, holding his hand out in front of him.
“Does he need stitches?” Izzie probed.
“I don’t know. That’s what we need you for.”
“IT HURTS. I’M GOING TOWARD THE LIGHT!” Joe gasped.
“Oh my god, I’ll be right there.” Izzie snapped her phone shut. “I’m so sorry, I have to run. One of my friends got hurt. He may have to go to the hospital.” She stood up.
“Oh, I hope he’s alright.” Amy said, concerned.
“I’m sure he will, but I should go check. We can finish over the phone in a day or two.”
“It’s ok. I was pretty much done, anyway.” Amy shook her head.
“Well then, it was great meeting you.” Izzie ran out of the building and around the corner to where Joe was still writhing in fake pain. “You guys are horrible actors.” She burst out laughing.
“If he didn’t, you know, cut his arm off it would have been fine.” Patrick shoved Joe, making him shut up.
“Ah, duck!” Izzie and Patrick hid around the corner as Amy exited the coffee shop and hailed a taxi. Joe threw himself to the ground. “Eew, gross. Do you know how dirty that is?” she made a face when he stood up. He just shrugged. “So, where are we going?”
“The guitar store. But I don’t feel like it anymore.” Patrick sighed.
“There’s nothing to do in St. Louis.” Joe complained.
“You know the one thing to do in a boring city?” Izzie grinned, devilishly.
“Yeah, but I don’t really want to do it with Patrick. I don’t swing that way.” Joe gave Patrick a look.
“No. Eew. We get tattoos!” she pulled them off down the street.
“No.” Patrick shook his head, stubbornly.
“Come on. Give in to peer pressure.”
“No.”
“Well then you can hold my hand, it'll be adorable. I have five, I need an even number.” Izzie grinned.
“WORST IDEA EVER!” Izzie whined, sprawled out face down on Pete’s bed the next afternoon. “I can’t move.”
“Well, you’d better. We’re having a party for you.” He lifted her shirt up to reveal the large image of an angry punk girl screaming into a microphone with lightning bolts coming out of her mouth, filling up the middle of her back.
“I made Joe carry my backpack.”
“Did you let him touch your boob again? He talked about that for at least a month.”
“No, I told him I’d beat him up.”
“I’m going to put some cleaner on it. It’ll probably hurt.” He squeezed some lotion on her back and lightly began rubbing it in.
“Ow! Not that hard.”
“I’m barely touching you.”
“Well, go gentle. At least at first. It’s really sensitive.”
“Uh…” Pete’s brother stuck his head in the door. “Am I interrupting something?”
“What do you want, Andrew?” Pete glared at him.
“Mom says it’s time for dinner. And Izzie can stay if she wants, her grandmother said it was ok.” He blushed as Izzie sat up and smiled at him, her shirt still pulled up around her stomach.
“Ok. You can go now.” Pete gave him a look to get out of his room as Izzie giggled. “I bet he’d touch your boob.” He nodded at the spot Andrew just left.
“Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
Hope you're liking it. The chapters are coming really quickly right now, but they'll probably slow down in the next week or so. Next chapter, we find out the big secret! But only if I get reviews.
And here's a picture of the tattoo from the flashback. I think you have to find it on the page, but it's the only one with a microphone.
Izzie woke up suddenly to a tapping sound somewhere in her room. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and looked around. She couldn’t see anything that was making it. Her head spun towards the window as she heard it again. “Psst! Hey!” She glanced over at the clock. 12:37. It wasn’t too late, but it was a school night. Shuffling to the window, she pulled it open and looked out to see Pete standing in her backyard throwing rocks.
“What are you doing? I was asleep.” She yawned.
“You turned 18 half an hour ago.”
“I’ll be right there.” She stuck her head back in and pulled on some jeans. She grabbed her shoes and a hoodie and headed downstairs, not bothering with makeup or even brushing her hair. She walked out the back door and walked quietly over to Pete, still staring fixedly at her window. “What are we doing?” she whispered, stopping next to him and peering up at the window.
“Where’d you come from?” he looked at her, confused.
“The door.”
“I thought you’d come out the window.”
“When have I EVER come out the window?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“Where are we going?” she followed him across the yard to his car.
“We’re getting tattoos.”
“Cool.” She nodded.
“Are we almost done?” Steve whined as they were touched up and repositioned for the millionth time. They were doing the photo shoot in what looked like an old dance studio. There were mirrors on all the walls, and they had decorated it to look like a practice space on acid. There were amps and cables and random junk everywhere. But it was all color coordinated. Taylor elbowed him in the stomach and winked at the photographer, who in turn giggled at him. She didn’t look much older than the band, and must have been fresh out of school. She was tall, thin and blonde, and had a faint Swedish accent. She was a little star struck, especially around Taylor and got flustered whenever she gave them directions.
“At least you don’t have to do the interview afterwards.” Izzie groaned, straightening her skirt. She was wearing a black and hot pink plaid schoolgirl skirt, black corset top and a cropped pink vest over it with white knee socks and pink Converse. She had black leather cuff bracelets on each wrist and pink extensions in her hair that were all curled and fluffed, making her hair match her outfit perfectly.
“My jacket’s uncomfortable.” Kyle complained as the makeup girl powdered his forehead. He was wearing skinny jeans, a white shirt and a faded blue leather jacket. His short light brown hair that was normally gelled into a Mohawk, had been done with red gel, giving his hair a punkish tint. Steve had skinny jeans, and a white hoodie, with a green tee shirt under it. He and Taylor both had typical emo haircuts, except Steve’s was blond and Taylor’s was black, with all their hair combed forward and to one side in their eyes. When they weren’t careful, they could match WAY more than they wanted. Taylor was wearing black skinny jeans and a slim black button down shirt that made his tall skinny figure look even taller and skinnier. At 6’2”, he was the tallest in the band and exactly a foot taller than Izzie. All the guys were really tall, which made it difficult when they all had to get their picture taken.
“Who thinks the makeup girl’s got a hot rack?” Steve whispered once she left.
“They’re not real.” Izzie shook her head, stepping back up on her box, bringing her up to shoulder height on the guys.
“How can you tell?” Kyle squinted at the girl, standing on the other side of the room.
“I’m a girl, we just know these things.” She shrugged.
“The photographer’s hot.” Taylor ginned as she began snapping away.
“Yeah.” Kyle nodded.
“Are those real?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, and she totally has a thing for you.” Izzie nudged Taylor.
“Ok, we’re done the group shots, we can move on to the individuals.”
“Awesome! That means I get to do my interview.” Izzie smiled, sarcastically. She had gotten there an hour before everyone else and done her individual photos while they were all getting ready so they could all be done together. She spotted the interviewer in the corner where there was a couch and waved, she ducked into the dressing room to change before walking over.
“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting.” Izzie smiled, shaking the interviewer’s hand.
“Oh, it’s no problem. It gave me some time to look over my questions. There’s a Starbucks next door, do you want to go there where it’s a little quieter?”
“Oh, sure. That sounds perfect.” Izzie had become a master at sweet talking reporters and media people, and so had never had anything bad written about her. She could tell the person they were a fat cow with ugly clothes, and the article would say she ‘took time out of her busy schedule to give the reporter fashion advice.’
“So, let’s get started. My name’s Amy by the way.” Amy looked like she was trying really hard to look like Lindsay Lohan or an Olsen twin. She had long obvious extensions, a green mini dress that looked more like a top, black leggings and chunky black boots and giant sunglasses that were resting on top of her head.
“Great. Let’s get started.” Izzie smiled politely.
“So, the story’s going to mostly be about Izzie the person, not the music. Sort of what makes you, you, and how you got here.”
“Like my background.” Izzie nodded.
“Exactly!” Amy giggled. “I have all kinds of questions, so if there are any that seem too personal, you don’t have to answer.”
“Sounds good.”
“Ok, let’s start out easy. Do you have a middle name?”
“Yes, actually I have two. Gibson Disco.” Amy began scribbling in her notebook. “Yeah, my dad named me after his favorite guitar brand, and my mom claimed that Disco would never die.” Izzie giggled as Amy stared blankly at her. It was obviously lost on her.
“So, where did the name of the band come from? Lloyd Dobler.”
“Um, we were all big fans of John Cusack…”
“Is he a friend of yours?” This was going to be a LONG interview.
“no…he’s an actor. But we were watching the movie. Say Anything. And thought it would be a funny band name, to have a person’s name. It’s like Alice Cooper. It was the guy, but it was also the band.”
“Oh, ok.” Amy bubbled. “So you’re currently on tour with Fall Out Boy, right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re both from Chicago. Had you met them at all before starting the tour?”
“Actually, we were pretty good friends with all of them. Joe went to high school with all of us, he was actually my lab partner one year. I lived next door to Pete. But we sort of had a falling out.”
“How so?”
“Um…” she racked her brain for something good. “When we started getting big, they were really just starting out. The label moved us to New York, and we really didn’t have time to keep in touch. We just grew apart, I guess.” She faked remorse and thought ‘damn, I’m good.’ The interview dragged on from there. There were good questions:
“Your new album is called ‘Lloyd Dobler Presents Cocoon’. Where did that title come from?”
“Well, back to Say Anything. There’s one scene where the character is having a movie day in a senior center, and it’s written on the chalkboard behind him. The movie Cocoon is about a bunch of old people who get abducted by aliens. We just thought it was a funny thing to write on the board, and to show a bunch of old people.” Bad questions:
“The movie you’re talking about, Say Anything, does it have anything to do with the band?” Izzie stared blankly at her for a moment.
“No. I’m pretty sure they probably took their name from it too.”
“Oh, because I love Max Bemis.”
“Yeah…” Izzie looked at the clock on her phone and glanced out the window just as Patrick and Joe were walking by. Joe spotted her and waved like a maniac. And just plain weird ones:
“If you were an animal, which one would you be?”
“Uh…a penguin?”
“Why a penguin?” she nodded, thoughtfully.
“Honestly, it’s the first thing I thought of.” She shrugged and flipped her phone open while Amy began talking. “Keep going, I’m paying attention. I just remembered something and I don’t want to forget.” She pressed the button and sent her text message.
Patrick pulled out his phone when it vibrated in his pocket. He and Joe walking to the guitar store while Pete was moping in his hotel room, writing songs and Andy was off somewhere lifting weights or running in place or something. The message signaled that he had one new text message. He pressed OK and it popped up on the screen.
Help! Interview from hell. Save me.
He didn’t recognize the number at first and looked over at Joe, confused. “Does Pete have an interview?”
“No, but Izzie does. Why?” Patrick showed him the message. “Well we got to go save her! Do you know where it is?” he began running out of the store.
“Where are you going? Spaz.” He added under his breath. “Just play along.” The stood on the corner of the sidewalk as Patrick called the number back.
“I’m sorry, I’m expecting an important call.” Izzie interrupted Amy, flipping her phone open. “Hello?”
“Um…you have to come quick. It’s an emergency?” Patrick stammered, he wasn’t good at making stuff up on the spot.
“What’s wrong?” Joe scratched his head.
“Oh my god, is everyone ok?” Izzie replied, panicked.
“They will be, but you should get back here.” He gave Joe a look. “Joe cut his hand open.”
“OH GOD! THERE’S SO MUCH BLOOD!” Joe grinned, holding his hand out in front of him.
“Does he need stitches?” Izzie probed.
“I don’t know. That’s what we need you for.”
“IT HURTS. I’M GOING TOWARD THE LIGHT!” Joe gasped.
“Oh my god, I’ll be right there.” Izzie snapped her phone shut. “I’m so sorry, I have to run. One of my friends got hurt. He may have to go to the hospital.” She stood up.
“Oh, I hope he’s alright.” Amy said, concerned.
“I’m sure he will, but I should go check. We can finish over the phone in a day or two.”
“It’s ok. I was pretty much done, anyway.” Amy shook her head.
“Well then, it was great meeting you.” Izzie ran out of the building and around the corner to where Joe was still writhing in fake pain. “You guys are horrible actors.” She burst out laughing.
“If he didn’t, you know, cut his arm off it would have been fine.” Patrick shoved Joe, making him shut up.
“Ah, duck!” Izzie and Patrick hid around the corner as Amy exited the coffee shop and hailed a taxi. Joe threw himself to the ground. “Eew, gross. Do you know how dirty that is?” she made a face when he stood up. He just shrugged. “So, where are we going?”
“The guitar store. But I don’t feel like it anymore.” Patrick sighed.
“There’s nothing to do in St. Louis.” Joe complained.
“You know the one thing to do in a boring city?” Izzie grinned, devilishly.
“Yeah, but I don’t really want to do it with Patrick. I don’t swing that way.” Joe gave Patrick a look.
“No. Eew. We get tattoos!” she pulled them off down the street.
“No.” Patrick shook his head, stubbornly.
“Come on. Give in to peer pressure.”
“No.”
“Well then you can hold my hand, it'll be adorable. I have five, I need an even number.” Izzie grinned.
“WORST IDEA EVER!” Izzie whined, sprawled out face down on Pete’s bed the next afternoon. “I can’t move.”
“Well, you’d better. We’re having a party for you.” He lifted her shirt up to reveal the large image of an angry punk girl screaming into a microphone with lightning bolts coming out of her mouth, filling up the middle of her back.
“I made Joe carry my backpack.”
“Did you let him touch your boob again? He talked about that for at least a month.”
“No, I told him I’d beat him up.”
“I’m going to put some cleaner on it. It’ll probably hurt.” He squeezed some lotion on her back and lightly began rubbing it in.
“Ow! Not that hard.”
“I’m barely touching you.”
“Well, go gentle. At least at first. It’s really sensitive.”
“Uh…” Pete’s brother stuck his head in the door. “Am I interrupting something?”
“What do you want, Andrew?” Pete glared at him.
“Mom says it’s time for dinner. And Izzie can stay if she wants, her grandmother said it was ok.” He blushed as Izzie sat up and smiled at him, her shirt still pulled up around her stomach.
“Ok. You can go now.” Pete gave him a look to get out of his room as Izzie giggled. “I bet he’d touch your boob.” He nodded at the spot Andrew just left.
“Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
Hope you're liking it. The chapters are coming really quickly right now, but they'll probably slow down in the next week or so. Next chapter, we find out the big secret! But only if I get reviews.
And here's a picture of the tattoo from the flashback. I think you have to find it on the page, but it's the only one with a microphone.
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