Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > And So The Desperate Search Began
And So The Desperate Search Began
1 reviewEmmie has been living with her cousin, Pete, since she moved from her four best friends: Ryan, Brendon, Jon, and Spencer in Las Vegas. Now, Pete's label is getting big and he's just signed this awe...
1Funny
Chapter One
DOO BE DOOO BEE BEE BEEEEEP!
“AAAAAARGH!”
Kerflomp.
Hello. My name is Merydith Jaen Daunea Wentz, more commonly known as Emmie or Emm, and I have just fallen out of my bed because my idiot of a cousin decided to set my alarm an hour early. Damn. Let me pause just for a second and give you a basic recap of my misery-struck calamity of a life.
The date today is April 1st 2005, and it seems Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, my idiot cousin mentioned before, is beginning his April Fools’ pranks. I live with this butthole in L.A., and I have been since I was fifteen. Right now? I’m eighteen. My birthday is September 15th.
Not so sad yet, is it? Well, here we go. I was born in Summerlin, Nevada. Where the hell is that, you might ask? A suburb of Sin City. I lived there my entire life as the misfit of my family: my dad owned three casinos, my mom was a “world renowned” model, and my twin sister seemed to be following in her footsteps.
I was the main musician in the family and that’s what really brought Pete and I close, although there was a seven year difference between us. I played basically anything, guitar, bass, drums, vocals, piano, keyboard, violin, flute, etc. The thing with my parents was that they tried to earn my love through buying me things. If my sister or I asked for something, we automatically got it. They didn’t really love us, though. But my sister wasn’t any better… I don’t think that made any sense but I sure hope it did.
I didn’t think of that horrid trio as my “family”, my real family was my four best friends: George Ryan Ross III, Spencer James Smith IV, Brendon Boyd Urie, and Jonathon Jacob Walker. These four were basically my reason for living. They’ve saved my life twice already, as with parents like mine suicide attempts are almost inevitable. You cannot begin to comprehend my relationship with those four boys.
My relationship with Ryan was something special, though. I’d known him since pre-k, and I met Spencer and the rest of the boys through him. Ryan had problems with his dad as well: he was an alcoholic. For some reason, that seemed to bring us closer together.
When I was fourteen and in my freshman year of high school, my father died in a car crash. I can’t say I was devastated, but it was a little upsetting. He was my father, after all… Anyways, my mother’s career had ended about 5 years ago, so she couldn’t really make money on her own, so she decided to marry this douchebag named David. David abused me. Sexually, physically, and emotionally. He nearly stomped out any dreams I had of becoming a professional musician. He didn’t have any problem with Addylaine, my sister. So David and my mother decide that they can’t afford to pay for me anymore, so they send me off to Chicago to live with my aunt and uncle.
You can’t say I was ecstatic, I was leaving my real family behind, the four boys behind my success. I had no choice, though. To make it easier for all of us, I didn’t tell anybody I was leaving and I strictly instructed my mother, David, and Addylaine not to tell a SOUL where I had left. Ignorance is a blessing.
So I reach my aunt and uncle’s house in Chicago. I’ve yet to meet a sweeter couple. SO much better than the three idiots I lived with in Vegas. Anyway, so Pete is Auntie and Uncle’s son, and he’s just turned 22 and bought a new house with an extra bedroom in L.A. Auntie and Uncle decide that I probably would have a lot more fun living with Pete in L.A., and Pete would really appreciate the company.
So here I am now, with a sore butt, trying to turn this hideous black box off in L.A. URGHH. I love this boy to pieces, but sometimes he can be a massive pain in the ass. Literally.
REVENGE.
Standing up slowly and trying not to make more noise than I already have, I grab a few permanent markers and tiptoe down the hall to Pete’s disaster zone.
Right before I enter the room, I hear the T.V. turned on.
Shit. He can’t be awake right now… It’s like, seven A.M.! I open the door a crack and see that Pete is lying on the floor, clearly spooning with Patrick, but still deep asleep.
… wait. Patrick?! I enter the room to see that Joe and Andy are asleep in a very similar position on Pete’s couch. I look at the television to see it’s tuned to some random porn channel. I sigh. Boys will be boys.
Now all four of them are in for it… They chose a horrible night to spend at the Wentz and mini Wentz household.
I head for Pete first, I have a lifetime of pranks to get revenge for on him. After much effort of trying to get Tricky’s hand off of Pete’s face without waking either of them, I begin my “tattoo”-ing of Panda’s face.
MUAHAHAHAHA. My masterpiece is complete! The word “LOSER” written huge across his forehead along with many profanities scribbled across his cheeks and Sharpie-eyeliner. Beautiful.
Right when I’m trying to turn Patty’s head, Joe decides to randomly whack Andy in the head. Andy yelps, wakes up, and pushed Joe off the couch, causing him to land on Patrick and squishing my hand, causing me to squeal, and Pete to jump up and hit his head on my stomach.
After a mixture of “OWW!”’s, “what the hell?”s, and “shit!”s, the boys look around at each other. Patrick looks at Pete’s face, which is about 3 inches from his own, and lets out a massively high, rather girlish scream. This is where I extract my hand from underneath Patrick and decide to run for my life.
“EMMMMMMMMMMMMMIEE! YOU ARE SO DEAD!” I hear Pete screech from down the hall.
For such short legs, that guy sure can run! He sprinted halfway down the hall in the time it took me to take one leap forward. One small step for Emmie, one giant leap for Peetard kind.
We both knew how this was going to end, so I surrendered, knowing I was basically screwed. Bad. Patty, Joey, and Andy catch up and immediately start tickle-monster attacking me with giant smiles plastered on their faces.
“GUYS! –giggle- SERI- haha- OUSLY! –giggle- ST - haha – OP!” I manage to squeal in between breaths. I have 450 pounds of pure Fall Out Boy on top of me.
Finally, after fifteen minutes, the boys get tired. So here we are, five random kids lying on Pete’s carpet staring at the ceiling and still laughing in absolute hysterics.
“Happy April Fools’, guys.” I say retardedly.
“Emm, please tell me this isn’t Sharpie…” Pete asks disdainfully.
“Ha, funny story. See, erm, Billvy! Yeah. Billvy came over and stole all my washable m-markers…?” I stutter cautiously.
“WHAT?! You are SO screwed!”
“I love you Petey Panda…”
“I-I-I… GAHH. Fine.” Pete finished, stalking off to the bathroom to scrub the ink off his face.
“That was wonderful, Emmolu.” “You are a smartass kid, man.” “Beautiful handiwork, Merydith.”
I stand up and take a bow while the boys applaud me, feigning elegancy.
I constantly thank god for these boys.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Author's Note:Hii. :] first story on ficwad, I'm more used to imagining these stories then writing them down. x3 They seem soo much better in my head. I probably will continue with this story, with or without reviews, but virtual cookies and huggles to anyone who does. :]
DOO BE DOOO BEE BEE BEEEEEP!
“AAAAAARGH!”
Kerflomp.
Hello. My name is Merydith Jaen Daunea Wentz, more commonly known as Emmie or Emm, and I have just fallen out of my bed because my idiot of a cousin decided to set my alarm an hour early. Damn. Let me pause just for a second and give you a basic recap of my misery-struck calamity of a life.
The date today is April 1st 2005, and it seems Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, my idiot cousin mentioned before, is beginning his April Fools’ pranks. I live with this butthole in L.A., and I have been since I was fifteen. Right now? I’m eighteen. My birthday is September 15th.
Not so sad yet, is it? Well, here we go. I was born in Summerlin, Nevada. Where the hell is that, you might ask? A suburb of Sin City. I lived there my entire life as the misfit of my family: my dad owned three casinos, my mom was a “world renowned” model, and my twin sister seemed to be following in her footsteps.
I was the main musician in the family and that’s what really brought Pete and I close, although there was a seven year difference between us. I played basically anything, guitar, bass, drums, vocals, piano, keyboard, violin, flute, etc. The thing with my parents was that they tried to earn my love through buying me things. If my sister or I asked for something, we automatically got it. They didn’t really love us, though. But my sister wasn’t any better… I don’t think that made any sense but I sure hope it did.
I didn’t think of that horrid trio as my “family”, my real family was my four best friends: George Ryan Ross III, Spencer James Smith IV, Brendon Boyd Urie, and Jonathon Jacob Walker. These four were basically my reason for living. They’ve saved my life twice already, as with parents like mine suicide attempts are almost inevitable. You cannot begin to comprehend my relationship with those four boys.
My relationship with Ryan was something special, though. I’d known him since pre-k, and I met Spencer and the rest of the boys through him. Ryan had problems with his dad as well: he was an alcoholic. For some reason, that seemed to bring us closer together.
When I was fourteen and in my freshman year of high school, my father died in a car crash. I can’t say I was devastated, but it was a little upsetting. He was my father, after all… Anyways, my mother’s career had ended about 5 years ago, so she couldn’t really make money on her own, so she decided to marry this douchebag named David. David abused me. Sexually, physically, and emotionally. He nearly stomped out any dreams I had of becoming a professional musician. He didn’t have any problem with Addylaine, my sister. So David and my mother decide that they can’t afford to pay for me anymore, so they send me off to Chicago to live with my aunt and uncle.
You can’t say I was ecstatic, I was leaving my real family behind, the four boys behind my success. I had no choice, though. To make it easier for all of us, I didn’t tell anybody I was leaving and I strictly instructed my mother, David, and Addylaine not to tell a SOUL where I had left. Ignorance is a blessing.
So I reach my aunt and uncle’s house in Chicago. I’ve yet to meet a sweeter couple. SO much better than the three idiots I lived with in Vegas. Anyway, so Pete is Auntie and Uncle’s son, and he’s just turned 22 and bought a new house with an extra bedroom in L.A. Auntie and Uncle decide that I probably would have a lot more fun living with Pete in L.A., and Pete would really appreciate the company.
So here I am now, with a sore butt, trying to turn this hideous black box off in L.A. URGHH. I love this boy to pieces, but sometimes he can be a massive pain in the ass. Literally.
REVENGE.
Standing up slowly and trying not to make more noise than I already have, I grab a few permanent markers and tiptoe down the hall to Pete’s disaster zone.
Right before I enter the room, I hear the T.V. turned on.
Shit. He can’t be awake right now… It’s like, seven A.M.! I open the door a crack and see that Pete is lying on the floor, clearly spooning with Patrick, but still deep asleep.
… wait. Patrick?! I enter the room to see that Joe and Andy are asleep in a very similar position on Pete’s couch. I look at the television to see it’s tuned to some random porn channel. I sigh. Boys will be boys.
Now all four of them are in for it… They chose a horrible night to spend at the Wentz and mini Wentz household.
I head for Pete first, I have a lifetime of pranks to get revenge for on him. After much effort of trying to get Tricky’s hand off of Pete’s face without waking either of them, I begin my “tattoo”-ing of Panda’s face.
MUAHAHAHAHA. My masterpiece is complete! The word “LOSER” written huge across his forehead along with many profanities scribbled across his cheeks and Sharpie-eyeliner. Beautiful.
Right when I’m trying to turn Patty’s head, Joe decides to randomly whack Andy in the head. Andy yelps, wakes up, and pushed Joe off the couch, causing him to land on Patrick and squishing my hand, causing me to squeal, and Pete to jump up and hit his head on my stomach.
After a mixture of “OWW!”’s, “what the hell?”s, and “shit!”s, the boys look around at each other. Patrick looks at Pete’s face, which is about 3 inches from his own, and lets out a massively high, rather girlish scream. This is where I extract my hand from underneath Patrick and decide to run for my life.
“EMMMMMMMMMMMMMIEE! YOU ARE SO DEAD!” I hear Pete screech from down the hall.
For such short legs, that guy sure can run! He sprinted halfway down the hall in the time it took me to take one leap forward. One small step for Emmie, one giant leap for Peetard kind.
We both knew how this was going to end, so I surrendered, knowing I was basically screwed. Bad. Patty, Joey, and Andy catch up and immediately start tickle-monster attacking me with giant smiles plastered on their faces.
“GUYS! –giggle- SERI- haha- OUSLY! –giggle- ST - haha – OP!” I manage to squeal in between breaths. I have 450 pounds of pure Fall Out Boy on top of me.
Finally, after fifteen minutes, the boys get tired. So here we are, five random kids lying on Pete’s carpet staring at the ceiling and still laughing in absolute hysterics.
“Happy April Fools’, guys.” I say retardedly.
“Emm, please tell me this isn’t Sharpie…” Pete asks disdainfully.
“Ha, funny story. See, erm, Billvy! Yeah. Billvy came over and stole all my washable m-markers…?” I stutter cautiously.
“WHAT?! You are SO screwed!”
“I love you Petey Panda…”
“I-I-I… GAHH. Fine.” Pete finished, stalking off to the bathroom to scrub the ink off his face.
“That was wonderful, Emmolu.” “You are a smartass kid, man.” “Beautiful handiwork, Merydith.”
I stand up and take a bow while the boys applaud me, feigning elegancy.
I constantly thank god for these boys.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Author's Note:Hii. :] first story on ficwad, I'm more used to imagining these stories then writing them down. x3 They seem soo much better in my head. I probably will continue with this story, with or without reviews, but virtual cookies and huggles to anyone who does. :]
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