Modern Empathy ~ a Patrick Stump Fanfiction

The Class Cried Laughing

May 20, 2012 ~ Sunday

I woke up Sunday morning to see something new posted on Patrick Stump's blog after quite some time.

It was nothing sad this time—it was something that looked like light to the end of the tunnel. He said it turned out he was not quitting music. It turned out he wasn't as depressed as I thought. He did cry in my arms twice, but that's a sign he's okay after all, which is all that matters.

Reading news sources, it turned out that Pete was right. I felt so much relief.

Heading to our Unitarian church, I rode with my friend Bill. We high-fived each other.

"He must be feeling better now, isn't he?" asked Bill.

"Yeah!" I said. "It was worth him crying into my arms twice. The weight has been lifted."

"That's great!"

"And, in creative writing, I get to workshop about it for my final one."

"That sounds fun! I'm sure you'll do great."

"Thank you."

For final exams, sure enough, that was my last ever workshop. One of the pieces we were assigned to do was a stand-up comedy.

"You have no clue how much I did not want to get out of bed." I recited to the class on the twenty-fourth. "My heart was breaking for my idol. He had posted on his blog—yes, celebrities are people, too—that his solo album was panned by assholes who wouldn't accept him for his real, blond, healthy self, which had broke him so badly he disappeared. It caused his fandom to have an internet tornado of 'now is the time to...panic!' All his fans and I were crying, hugging, running and puking, with one yelling, 'stay calm!' like Steve Carrell. I thought that I would be able to check on him soon, since I live close to his home, but I was wrong, hence my heavy workload, because I am in high school.

"The Christmas before, my sister and I were counting the Christmas lights, only to see my idol sobbing his eyes out on his porch, and I can't believe I actually met him! My sister thought a 27-year-old man would be uncomfortable with the idea of a 15-year-old girl hugging him, but she was wrong, because of my resemblance of his long-lost great-grandpa's second cousin's granddaughter or something. In real life, however, I know nothing about genealogy, except for the family trees I played with as a kid.

"So when I read my idol's blog about the limelight being a bitch, there was clear evidence he was depressed. I was so concerned for him that for the next weekend, I could think of little else but what could I do for him. I was done crying into my pillow to realize that we ran out of Kleenex in my room while my nose was stuffed up and a bit runny, so I grabbed my old math test in a rush and blew into it.

"When my former fedora-wearing boy's formerly emo coworker assured me he was healing, I realized he was waiting to talk to my other sister, who is his therapist.

"And remember the Chicago hailstorm? Well, my senior friend and I were on a walk to see one thing of hail fall behind my sunhat, but thank god I was not hurt. We ran under a front porch in a rush to realize we ran to my idol's home. My night with him before state testing was actually really fun. We of course opened up about how we were feeling, and we cried together, which we benefited well from.

"For the rest of the night, we played ping pong and slept.

"As time flew by, I woke up to see that my idol posted for the first time in months. I needed to check on the drama, since it was my job. It was exciting to know he didn't die, and that he was okay and came out stronger.

"But what's next? Will his band reform? Life is not a scene, it's an arms race."

Presenting, I noticed that Ryen's face was red, and both she and Malissa were wiping their faces. When I brought up blowing my nose into my irrelevant math test, Mr. Fox was crying from laughter. While I was receiving good feedback and it was Mr. Fox's turn to say something after everyone had their chance, he had a hard time containing himself.

"I think you gave yourself too much credit." said Zara.

"Your laugh sounds like Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance laughing." said Lillie.

I felt honored getting my last round of applause before moving to Mr. Frier's class next year.

I had completed ninth grade.