Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > My Time Will Come..(Won't It?)


by XXPoeticTragedyXX 5 reviews

“See, all that right there is why I say you should let me punch him...if only just once. I don't like that he hurt my T-Star. That's not kosher." "He's not kosher."

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Warnings: [!!] - Published: 2008-04-27 - Updated: 2020-05-18 - 6126 words


If it hadn’t been for the fact that Patrick was already restless and half awake, he would have never heard his phone ring. Who the hell had picked that ringtone for him?

The second it went off he jerked it off the lamp table next to him and flipped it open. He lay very still in his spot and cautiously looked over to make sure Troian hadn’t woken up and to his relief she was still deep in her slumber.

He squinted at his phone for a second before he gave up and felt around for his glasses. It took him a few seconds and the room finally came into focus as his eyes adjusted to the room to the dimly lit room. Troian looked so innocent and adorable laying that Patrick almost wanted to ‘awe’ at the sight. Whether she was dreaming of something that made her happy or she had fallen asleep with that smile on her face, he would never know but he couldn’t help but wonder.

His phone buzzed now and Patrick rolled his eyes at the stupid alert that meant he had a text message.

One New Text Message

Fr: Travie
Ay man get down hur. you were supposed to
help me on these beats 30 min ago.
Cb: 903-355-8577

Patrick groaned inwardly and shoved the sheet off his lower body. His phone said it was 5:45 a.m. What had possibly possessed Travie to get to the studio this early? And worse, what had Patrick been thinking when he agreed to meet him there? No one in there right mind was even awake at this hour.

Something caught Patrick’s eyes as he heaved himself out of the bed as lightly as possible.

A shade.

A red, almost darkish color than he actually had to squint his eyes and move the covers back more before he realized that there was blood on the sheets.

The color drained from his face leaving him pale, and a large lump of shock settled in his throat along with guilt crawling up his spine only to make him want to sway for a moment then catch himself. That’s not possible…

She was with David first. She had to have been

Patrick swallowed and his efforts went useless. Panic mixed in his chest. Time seemed to slow. He could almost hear her again, begging him to slow down.

“I just think that maybe we should…take it slower…”

Fuck. Patrick ran a hand up his face and through his reddish hair.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK. He licked his lips and tried to swallow. The air had seeped from his lips and left his mouth dry.

Oh, God.

He honestly didn’t know what to do, he had never expected this. He had been so set on the fact that she had already with David, and he didn’t know why, but it was evident he had been wrong and that made the guilt so much worse on so many levels. It was hard for him to fully comprehend this so early in the morning and for that reason part of him wanted to throw the sheets, wake Troian up, and shake her. He wanted to ask her she hadn’t stopped him or why she hadn’t spoken up and but he wouldn’t dare because he knew just why. He was why. If he hadn’t jumped her, if he hadn’t used everything he knew about her against her, if he hadn’t been so…selfish, then nothing would have ever happened.

And now, after everything, he wasn’t so sure that he didn’t regret it. It was evident in her eyes that what had gone down the night before probably meant a lot more to her than it did to him.

He jammed a hat onto his head in frustration and pulled on the first pair of jeans he spotted. If he didn’t hurry now he was never going to hear the end of it from Travie. He was late as it was, and he was making it worse by just standing there.

It wasn’t that he wanted to leave her like this-he knew when she woke up it was going to hurt her but he just didn’t have the heart—or the guts—to wake her up now. He needed more time to think this over, to decide what he was going to do. Leaving a note was out the question. It just felt worse for some reason because he knew if he left one he would make it plain, simple and non affectionate.

So instead he pulled his hoodie on and walked out of the room. He would deal with this problem later. Much later, if he could help it.


It was just after Travie had growled at the mixing board for the third time that he realized that he severely need Patrick to be there now because this was pissing the shit out of him and he needed to hurry this song along. As his fingers pushed and pulled the knobs ,a short red head let himself in and slammed the door shut. He panted, trying to catch his breath and attempted to apologize at the same time. “Sorry man, I never realized how much traffic there is at 6am in downtown"

The sudden burst of sound and interruption to his lack of company made poor Travie’s hands slips and the room was filled with a high pitch. The two of them cringed and Travie quickly brought the sound down and fixed the levels.

He rolled his eyes at the sight before him—Patrick looked liked a munchkin deprived of sleep. "Its aight, man. Where were you?”

The short one fussed with his hat for a moment before looking up. "What? Oh, just at home—can we start?"

Patrick had always been the ‘lets get down to business’ type but even this rush was new to Travie. As far as he knew, Patrick Stump was not a morning person. His immediate need to get to work was different. Dark circles lined his eyes and it was evident he hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past few hours. They made his already white face appeal paler.

"I guess." Travie shrugged and shuffled the papers near him, pulling out his notebook from beneath the sheaf of papers. He remember why he had wanted Patrick to hurry up now and immediately threw the notebook at him at started off a mile a minute. "I've got some lyrics that are almost finished, but the bridge is giving me problems and I want you to look at the hook oh, and I want you to hear this beat, it’s been bothering me and I don't know, I think the bass it off...."

Patrick looked overwhelmed at amount of words leaving Travie’s lips and he stared at his friend. If he was going to be fixing all of that, what did Travie plan to do in the meantime, sleep? He sighed. It was going to be a long day and he knew it, and he was most definitely not looking forward to spending in this studio. "Alright" He took a seat next to McCoy and turned on another piece of the mix board. Music spilled from the speakers and filled the room. Already it was giving him a headache and he frowned. Maybe he could just tell Travie he wasn’t feeling well and take a rain check…but no, as much as he wanted to, he knew Travie had been asking for help for quite a while now. He listened to the beat for a few more seconds and concentrated on the sound, his inner Musician kicking in. This was what he was born to do. This was his forte. He bobbed his head to the beat and tapped to the rhythm on his thigh. "I see what you mean Okay, here's what were gonna do" He fiddled around with more knobs and buttons and pressed play again. He wasn’t too sure he liked the way it was going, but maybe Travie would. He honestly didn’t care what it sounded like as long as he got to leave and stop worrying about it. He had better things to fix and work out at the moment.

Travie shook his head at the new improvements, he just wasn’t feelin’ it. “Naw, now the beat doesn’t go with the rhyme scheme.” He was going to start pushing buttons too, but he figured he was better off letting Patrick do what he did best.

Patrick made a face of irritation and nodded. “Alright.”

More changes, more waiting on Travie’s part and finally Patrick pushed play.

“Is’ cool man, but now the timing off from the bass.”

This response made the grip Patrick had on his arm rest tighten, and he sighed in frustration. He played the beat again; he would try one more time. It only played for ten seconds when he gave up and slammed his hands down on the mixing board. Travie jumped at the sudden outburst and raised an eyebrow.

"Damn, foo. Can you not break the mixing board? I kinda need it...”

Patrick ran his shaking hands through his hair. "Sorry man its just-" He turned as if he was going to say something then closed his mouth and looked away back to the mixing board.

"What?" Travie towards him in curiosity and leaned forward. "What’s wrong?"

"It’s just-" Patrick opened his mouth, he sighed a sigh of exasperation then closed it, lost for words. “It’s Troian."

It felt wrong for some reason for Patrick to say her name. Like she might feel that he was talking about her or something of the ludicrous sort.

"Ah... Tricky's got some female trouble. That one chick, tha Latina, right?" Travie smirked. He understood these kinds of things. "What did you do? Whatever you did, says you're sorry and buy her something."

Patrick rolled his eyes, "Yes its 'the Latina' and I don't think its going to be that easy to fix this…" It was going to take a lot more than something material to make up for what he had just done. The scary part was that he wasn’t really sure how he felt about it, part of him felt that he had done was needed to do—his main purpose had been to break her and David up. He just felt a small pang of guilt that he had been so rough with her. He had been too good and she truly believed ever word he said to her.

Travie broke Patrick’s train thought as he sighed dramatically. "You know you don't fuck with Hispanic chicks. What did you do?" He put a hand to his temple as if Patrick had just shamed him. That white boy seriously needed someone to teach him the way of women.

At this statement, Patrick went pale. His head immediately jerked up to stare at Travie.

Travie of course was clueless and didn’t seem to put two and two together. "What? Tell me!"

"Umm, well, it’s just that… Travie...I" Patrick’s hands came up to rub the back of his head.

And it was then that Travie’s light bulb clicked. "You did?! You slept with her? " His jaw dropped to the ground and he grinned. He gave his friend the same proud look a father might give his son.

Patrick nodded solemnly. "But its no laughing matter Travie!"

Travie laughed—he couldn’t help it. Patrick and his proper English. It came out of nowhere sometimes and he had to mimic him. - "'its no laughing matter Travie.’ DUDE, come on! How bad could she possibly be in bed?" He cocked his head to the side doing his best to imagine Troian naked.

Patrick looked so uncomfortable that Travie stopped laughing for his sake and forced himself to become serious.

"No see—That's not it. She was…well, she was good considering…"

Travie nodded in prompt. "Considering..."

"ConsideringshewasavirginandIwasroughevenwhenshetoldmetoslowdown." The words came out in a rush of confusion to Travie and Patrick exhaled as if a ton of bricks had been lifted from his chest.

Travie raised an eyebrow. "What the fuck did you just say, man?" He put a hand to his face. "I swear, you white people need to stop drinking so much coffee in the morning..."

Patrick glared back. "I said, considering she was a virgin and I pretty much treated her like a sex toy and didn't care about the fact that she wanted to take it slow." His voice lowered with every word and by the end of the sentence the room was filled with silence.

Travie’s smile faded to disbelief. "She was a virgin? Fuccccck. What did she do? Maybe she wasn' do you know?" He tried to come up with a good excuse to make his friend feel better but it was obvious that there was no getting around this one.

Patrick threw his hands up." How do I know?! Blood, man! Blood everywhere. Now that I look back I can't believe I didn’t know. And I was such an ass! God, I'm an idiot. What do I do?"

He wanted a solution. Actually, he wanted to know how he was supposed to feel. He felt bad, yes, after all, he hadn’t meant to hurt her but he wasn’t so sure he was going to tell Travie why he had done any of it in the first place. How was he supposed to explain he had been jealous of David but he didn’t really like her and that all the while he had been trying to keep her safe? That made absolutely no sense when he ran over it in his mind.

Travie lips fluttered open a couple of time but he couldn’t find the words. "uhh...well, um, what did she say after wards? And..what did you do? Did you at least talk to her this morning...?"

Patrick scratched his arm and kept his gaze way from Travies. “I kinda sorta just walked out while she was sleeping…"

"You walked out?! goodbye, no note, nothing? You fucking pulled an XO on her?" Travie’s eyes were like saucers. He had done some shit in his life but would have never expected it from Patrick. It was shocking, almost dishonorable.

Patrick didn’t like that look. He groaned. "Don't make me feel worse than I already do, man."

"Right, my bad.” Travie nodded. “So what are you gonna do?"

Patrick was at a loss for an answer. "I don't know what to do."

"But you are planning to do....something, right?"

Patrick shrugged. I don’t know.” He pulled his hair in anxiety. Travie went to slap his hand away and Patrick stopped. He really needed to quit that habit.

He took off his hat and fixed it back on his head and Travie sighed. "You don't know...? Dammn, Patrick. I feel kinda bad for homegirl."

Patrick groaned and Travie shook his head all the while muttering something about white people and Latin women and stupidity.

"I should prolly go talk to her" Patrick shifted in his chair.

Travie feigned a grand smile and nodded as if the answer to the meaning of life had been explained. "Maaan, you are brilliant, let me tell you, dog."

However, Patrick was not one to catch one. He stared stupidly at his friend. "Tell me what man?"'

Travie just ran a hand down his face and closed his eyes. "Never mind, go fix it. Like, now, go."

“Alright, alright,” Patrick mumbled. He stood and nodded reluctantly. You didn’t have to tell him twice.

The slam of the door made Troian’s weary eyes widen for a moment. She was still a little sleepy and had been on the verge of falling back asleep on the kitchen table. She’s been sitting there for a good hour and half and after an hour had managed to choke back her tears. Now her untouched cup of coffee sat in front of her and she lay in her arms, trying to process everything that had happened the night before. This wasn’t supposed to happen—not to her. She was good girl in her family. She wasn’t supposed to get into these kinds of situations.

The thought of getting up to see who had decided to come home crossed her mind for a split second before she let her head slump back into her arms. She was suddenly tired and she wanted to cry again but she refused to let herself do so. She had spent the last fifteen minutes convincing herself that there was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why she had woken up alone. There was….right?

Her body gave that little shudder you always get after crying and she inhaled, trying to relax. It was fine, Patrick was probably called into work or something, he wouldn’t have left without saying anything on purpose. She frowned, then forced a chuckle. She really needed to stop being so paranoid and give the boy a little more credit.

She was just standing up to get a new cup of coffee, one that was still hot whenever the man himself walked in. “Good morning,” she said softly, setting her cup down. He didn’t seem to hear because he opened the refrigerator and proceeded to raid it. Her mind went into a panic but she willed herself to stay calm at the fact that he hadn’t said a word to her.

“How did you sleep?” She asked as she wrapped her arms around Patrick’s torso. At her touch his body stiffened and she frowned, “What’s wrong?” She asked, leaning into him to kiss his cheek. He pulled away as she did and pushed her back using the excuse of getting coffee to help.

A pang of guilt hit her hard. A small frown tugged at her lips. “What’s wrong?” She repeated.

He didn’t waste any time in turning around. He looked weary and frustrated at the fact that she had even asked. "Troi, we have to talk."

The tones of his words were like knives, making her uneasy. She bit her lips and nodded slowly. "Um…okay. About what?"

He was facing her completely now, piling the confusion on for her.

“About last night." The words were tired and dripped in irritation. It was evident that this had been on his mind for a while and it made her slightly scared. She tried to act nonchalant but that fact was that she could tell something wasn’t right. She didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t think of a way to protest, but she knew right away that she wanted to. This is bad, this sounds really bad.

This is what I wanted
, she reminded herself. She had wanted to talk to him. So why was panic threatening to choke her?

He really didn’t wait for her answer. He tugged at his hair. “I just want to make sure that you don't look to into it..."

If her jaw had dropped any farther it might have hit the floor because she was stunned. She struggled to process the statement and with a roll a nausea it hit her, "Excuse me?" She whispered.

He rolled his eyes and she didn’t like the way that made her feel stupid. "I don't want you thinking it will amount to anything; it was a one time thing." Each word was separate and distinct, demeaning.

" time...thing?" Troian blinked back tears. This was so hard for her in every way. "What do you mean?...You slept with me and now you're telling me it was nothing? Patrick, you weren’t even there when I woke up and now you're telling me that what happened was just whatever?"

She wanted to come off angry but in the end she only sounded like she was begging.
"It was just sex, Troian. I said I loved you in the heat of the moment. I mean I love you, just not like THAT,” he interrupted to correct her. “You know I still love Cindee. She's the one for me" That statement almost sounded grim. He spoke the words slowly and precisely, his cold eyes watching her as she took all of this in.

She ran over the words in her head a couple of time, searching through them for whatever his real intent was. “…Just…sex?" She tried out the words, confused by the way they sounded in that order. "Oh." She stared, uncomprehending, into Patrick’s eyes. He stared back at her without an apology. His eyes were hard and cold, like slates of Emerald that stretched for miles and miles but lead to nowhere. She found no contradiction to his words in his eyes and she searched them. "I see." Her voice was unnaturally calm and that both bothered her and relieved her.

Patrick reached out to touch her but pulled back at the last second and looked around for a moment. "You know I’ll always love you, in that…way, but just not like that. I'm glad you understand."

Awareness seeped through her veins like acid and it all really started to sink in now. Her hand shot of from her side and connected with the side of his face with a loud clap. The contact made her hand sting. She had never slapped anyone before. It only took his cheek a few seconds to turn bright red and soon the rest of his face was too, in anger.

“Fuck you,” She said through clenched teeth.

His eyes blazed in fury and he stepped forward, his anger boiling. "NO! Don't even imply that I forced this on you. You are a big girl. You've been walking around whining about how much you wanted me. So there. You got what you wanted, all I'm saying is don't think into the meaning of it all too much. I did you a favor."

The words stung. She winced and shook her head incredulously. "You know what? Just SHUT UP. GOD. You didn't do shit for me! I didn't even get off! When the hell did you become such a prick?" She pushed against Patrick’s chest as hard as she could and spun on her heels. She couldn’t take much more of this.

The fact that she had actually said that to him seemed to sting and Patrick stood there in disbelief.

He would have stayed there, rooted into place with that stupid look on his face if the doorbell hadn’t rung and snapped him out of his incredulity. It rang again and he stomped his way to the door in fury and wrenched it open with the most sour face. "WHAT? Can I help you?"

Calista Rivera stood there looking like her royal beauty herself. She crossed her arms in surprise and cocked her head to one side. "Well, from what I've heard cariño, no you can't."

Patrick didn’t fully understand the meaning of that but he knew it was insulting. A look of annoyance passed of her face. "Huh?...who are you?"

The girl in the door couldn’t help but smile in the most seductive of way, it just came natural. "Who I am is of no importance to you. little man, now run along, I'm not here for you." She pushed past him, her fingers barely grazing his shoulder and shouted. "TROIAN, LOVE!"

Despite the attitude Patrick’s eyes scannd her from head to toe and back up. She was hot! His smile faded as he remember he was pissed off, "Hey, you can't just walk into my hou--" The end of his sentence fell into nothing as Troian appeared and he glared before stalking off and slamming the door behind him—as loudly as possible.

"That's right little monkey, run along!" Calista yelled after him with a smile. "So that's-" She stopped short at the expression on Troian’s face. "What the hell? What's wrong?"

Troian was frozen in her spot on the couch. She didn’t seem to have gotten any air with Patrick gone. A few seconds passed and she looked up, Calista, realizing she was being a question. "What? Sorry, nothing, its fine-- I'm fine."

Calista raised an eyebrow. "Fine? Really... you want me to define that word, because what you are isn't it." Her features were lined with concern which made Troian feel bad for lying.

She was going to have to convince her though, otherwise she was going to have to really hold back tears. She hated crying, and the didn’t like the thought of crying in front of Calista. "I am. Just…crap going on, its cool." She shrugged as if that was nothing important. They needed a new subject, she decided. One that didn’t focus on her shitty life. "So what are you up to?"

She knew Calista wanted to say something because of that look she got from her but she just sighed. “You know me, love. I've been helping newbies to the school adjust without their parents and, umm, been working and typing papers for my class. What about you?" She was so determined to get the focus back on Troian and it made Troian want to pull at her hair. It was Calista’s fault though; she was accustomed to asking people how they were and about their problems. That’s what counselors do.

"Sounds lovely," Troian smiled sarcastically. "Me? Ah...You know, just shit with Patrick..."

Now this was a topic that really got Calista’s attention. She immediately leaned forward as nodded, ready for the details. "Right. The sex thing. How was that?

This wasn’t where she had wanted to conversation to come to. She shifted uncomfortably and spoke slowly, still feeling the pain of the memory only a while ago. "It was okay, I guess. Nothing special."

This was certainly not the reaction Calista had been looking for. She had been clearly been waiting on something interesting or juicy. Something to make her grin and say, “Niiiiiice!” But just…Okay? Sex was either bad or great. It wasn’t ‘Okay.’ She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arm determined to get to the bottom of this flat answer she was getting.

"Nothing special; got it.” She nodded in a sardonic way. “I told you about dating white boys, lover." If anyone knew anything about dating, it was Calista. Not that she was a whore or anything, she just knew how to play the game and win.

"Probably shoulda listened,” Troian muttered under her breath. She intended for it to come out so loudly and now she couldn’t take it back. See, when you’re with Calista, you either say things or you don’t. Do start this half-assed, muttering shit because she’ll want to know.

"What was that?"

Troian sighed. She honestly didn’t want to tell her but she was starting to realize she needed someone she could trust and so far that person had been Calista. "Nothing, I just--I--it didn't mean as much to him as it did to me, apparently." The words made her feel unworthy or ashamed.

"Troian say what? Didn't you say he loved you and what not?"

"Yeah, he said it...but fuck knows what he truly meant."

In the moment of disbelief, Calista blew a raspberry and shook her head. "Fucking men, dude. You can't live with them but you can't kill them. I can have him beat up if you'd like." She sounded eager and Troian knew Part of Calista was serious and that was the scary part.

Still, it wasn’t enough to make her smile. She shook her head in response and looked away. "He talked to me earlier. He told me it was just sex and that he loved Cindee and shit." It hurt just to say so aloud and she wondered why she kept replaying that over and over in her head so much.

"The walking ball of blonde fluff? Really?" Calista shuddered. "Men are stupid. You're a great person I don't see why'd he'd love someone as ditzy as that girl instead of you. If it makes you feel better. If I were a guy I'd hit that and not leave" She smiled seductively and this actually made Troian crack a smile. Whether it was her job to say it as her friend or not, at least Calista was making the effort to cheer her up.

"Thanks. But I would much rather you knock some sense into him instead of beating him up."

Calista looked disappointed but nodded, "I guess that works too...."

A hush fell over the both of them and that wasn’t good because it gave Troian time to think and an idle mind is the Devil’s plaything. "I can't believe he used me, Cali. He just used me."

She had known this would happen. She could practically see the tears brimming in Troian’s eyes so Calista scooted closer and hugged her tightly. “See, all that right there is why I say you should let me punch him...if only just once. I don't like that he hurt my Troian-Love. That's not kosher."

"He's not kosher." Troian muttered back. "….I honestly believed him last night, Cal."

"I know, baby. But what can you do? Chin up. It will be ok. He’ll realize he's making a mistake."

"Or he'll realize he's got Cindee and not give a shit."

"Nah. Trust me. If he is who you say he is, he'll realize that girl is not worth his time. Calista smiled like her answer was brilliant and hugged her again.

It effort was money; Troian would have been poor because she refused to accept that. Her bitter laugh was cut short, however, when the front door opened and in Waltzed Travie like he was someone.

Calista stared at him like he was retarded and Troian raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t everyday that this big black guy just busted through her doorway.

“Hi. Hello. Do you want to explain why you're just bursting into my house?"

Travie seemed to find this funny. He pointed at her and smiled, looking surprised, however, that expression faded quickly back to normality. He froze at the sight of Calista and did an obvious double take. "Hi, I'm Travie and I'm pretty much a big deal.” He flashed Cali a smile.

She was not phazed. "Umm. Troi. A black guy just burst through your door."

Troian nodded as if this were an everyday thing in her life and Calista laughed hysterically. "Really? Did you just say that? You just say that to people?" She laughed some more and Travie feigned annoyance. "I find that offensive and YES, I do."

See that was Travie’s world. Now they were in Calista’s and in hers guys just didn’t walk up and act like they were the shit. She stood and patted his shoulder in that ‘pity’ sort of way. “Anybody ever tell you you're special? And I don't mean Barney special, I mean like ‘ride the short bus special-ed special.’"

This was like a cue for Travie and he went into a song. “Now here's another barn burner for the slow learners Put your helmets on and take a seat on the short bus
Next stop, right around the corner from your momma live
No turning back so you better buckle up
Shit, don't be concerned with mine
I feel like a Speak and Spell way I got you learning my lines
Fine, pull the string, replay that shit
I change my name to "did he really just say that shit?" He made sure to emphasize the last part and shot Calista a grin, searching her face for a reaction. The girl just took a confident step forward.

"Pshhh. I'm the big deal around these parts." She put her hand out for him to shake it.

Travie leaned into Troian, one hand covering his mouth. "I like her!" He whispered loudly then shook Calista’s hand.

As cute as the scene was, and it was not very cute because it made her jealous, Troian still didn’t know why Travie was standing in her living room. "Anyways, what's up Travie, what are you doing in these parts of town?" -Travie shrugged and smiled over at her cheerfully. He was in a good mood now, he couldn’t help it. “Dunno. Lunchbox sent me over to pick up some clothes and shit. Didn't really tell me much. Where's he going?"

At the mention of his name Troian felt her anger flare. “Who cares."

That was not a happy attitude. And Travie was supposed to see a happy attitude because Patrick Stump was supposed to fix whatever he had fucked up the night before. "What happened?"

Troian stayed quiet and Calista shrugged. "He's being a typical man, I guess."

"Hey now." Travie struggled to come up with some defense. "Okay, yeah, but what did he do....?" He didn’t dare mention the fact that Patrick had told him.

Calista shrugged. "I'm not telling’ if she won't.”

Troian shrugged back. "I don't care anymore, just tell the man." The truth was she was too ashamed to say it herself. Saying it would have been like accepting it.

Cali eyed her for approval then sighed. “Alright, here's the nutshell version. He pulled a hit it and quit it."

He had been doing so well in playing like he didn’t know and at that moment it completely went over his head and Travie stared in wide eyes at the two of them. "I thought he was supposed to talk to you!" The moment the words left his mouth he was busted and he knew it.

Both girls raised their eyebrows but only Calista glared. "So he told you. Hmm interesting. The convo’ went a little something like 'it didn't mean anything' and now he’s evidently moved out. I'm sorry but your friend is a pussy." She gave Travie a look that dared him to argue with her.

"Fuck! I mean, shit. I mean..." Troian stared at the boy, hurt, and Travie ran a hand over his face.

"Aw, snap...I'm Sorry. He told me he was going to fix it! I tried to tell him! Foreal, he told me he was coming over to fix it."

"Well he more like stabbed it with a rusty knife and poured salt in it."

Troian glared at Calista for piping in. She wasn’t exactly making it better.

"Maaaaaaan." Travie grabbed Troian in a hug and squeezed her a little too tight. Jesus, she was heartbroken, not dying. Travie rubbed her shoulder. "You know that white boy doesn't know what the fuck he's doing."


Travie followed her over exaggerating way and shook his head. “We brilliant people are often pushed aside." He nodded sadly and at the very last second shot Calista a wink.

A smile took over her and she bit her lip.

All the while, Troian was sandwiched between them glancing between the two of them and their stupid faces, ready to gag. "Oh, come on!” She was both jealous and amused. "Travie, Calista, just leave now, together, because we all know you both are feeling each other."

Calista glared at her friend for a millisecond before smiling. "Really? ‘Cause I know this GREAT bar. Troian, you should come too!"

"You're impossible.” She wasn’t feeling up to a bar but she did need to get out. “Okay. I don't have to change, do I? No, never mind; you two, just go."

"No way! Chicks before dicks, love, your coming or we are staying here and wallowing together. You pick.” Calista sure knew how to throw ultimatums at Troian.

"Fuck it, okay." Troian hopped up. "Let's go."

Calista high fived Travie. "Drinking is a GO!"

"How about dancin’ close?"

“We’ll see about that.”

"Fuck yes! Les' go!”
A/N: wow, did I just update? ON TIME?! Haha :] Tell me what you think, I LOVE reading your comments/suggestions and finding out what you do and don't like. It really helps.
Plus, I see ALOT views, but hardly any reviews. Help a sista out, love.
LovexCntxSaveYou. IM me.
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