Fall Out Girl (FOB FanFic ft. All Time Low)

Chapter 5

-Patrick's POV-

I was sitting outside, tapping my pen against Pete's makeshift song packet as I read over one of the songs he had written for us before he left. The page I was on was titled "Twin Skeletons". There were phrases scribbled all over the page along with a bunch of arrows, trying to put the phrases together. And then on top of that were all my edits, minuscule but crucial changes to the phrases or the ordering. It was an absolute mess and I was on the verge of tearing the page out and crumpling it up in a ball. No matter how many times I hummed the lyrics differently, or pieced the phrases together differently, nothing was working out.

"Whatcha working on?" Elisa, my wife, questioned as she stepped out onto the closed-in porch, resting her elbows on my shoulders and looking over my head.

"Just a song," I muttered, setting the collection down on the glass table and tilting my head back to look at her. I smiled, "What about you?"

"I just put Declan to bed," She replied, walking around the chair I was sitting in and sitting down in the one across from me, "I was thinking maybe you and I could catch up on some Walking Dead. I think we're two seasons behind."

"Elisa, I'd love to, but...I've really got to work on this," I picked up the packet again and sighed, "The label's been pressuring us into making another album and with Pete's gone it's-"

"Oh yeah. You had to get a new bassist, right?" She questioned.

"Temporary replacement," I corrected her, "But yeah."

"Did you find one?"

"Yeah, I didn't think we would but we did. Her name's Phoenix, but she likes to be called PJ - her last name is Jones. And she is amazing. You should've heard her, Elisa. Like, holy smokes, that girl can play bass."

A confused expression crossed my wife's face. "Her? That girl?"

I raised my eyebrow, baffled by her reaction, "Yes?"

"Your temporary replacement for Pete is a girl?"

I chuckled, "Yeah. Is there a problem with that?"

She crossed her arms, "No, of course not. I just...I never pictured Fall Out Boy with a girl."

"Well neither did I, but I think she's going to be a really good fit. She seems to get along with the guys and me and she's really fun to hang out with. I mean, she's no Pete, but...I can see myself and Joe and Andy performing on stage with her."

Elisa seemed at a loss for how to respond. I knew she wanted to say something, but nothing was coming out.

I shifted awkwardly in my chair and asked, "So...I never really asked you before, but what do you think about all of this? Do you think we're making the right decision?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Pat, it's not really my place whether or not this is the right decision, but if you're happy with it, I'm happy too. And I'm sure it's all going to work out for the best."

I smiled appreciatively at her.

The two of us sat there in silence for a little, the only sounds being the crickets in the trees outside and Declan's shallow breathing coming from the baby monitor in Elisa's hand. "Do you know when Pete's going to come back?" She blurted out.

"He didn't really say," I answered, "All he said was that he needed to take a break or else the band would fall apart."

"Maybe you should go see how he's doing," She suggested, rising to her feet, "And while you're at it, maybe you should come inside and join me for a binge-watch session of The Walking Dead too." She kissed me on the cheek from behind and walked back inside.

I sighed and called back to her, "Elisa, I can't! I've got to work!"

"I'm making popcorn!" She yelled back, completely ignoring what I just said.

I rolled my eyes and stood up. I couldn't resist a night on the couch with my wife watching The Walking Dead and eating popcorn.

*****

I took Elisa's suggestion into consideration and decided that maybe I should go see how Pete's doing. I pulled into his driveway and turned my car off. I got out and things seemed quiet. A little too quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

I walked up the steps and pulled open the screen door, knocking on the red wood one behind it. I took a step back and crossed my arms, looking around as I waited patiently for someone to answer the door. As I was looking around, I noticed that Bronx's toys that were usually left outside in the front lawn were no longer there.

The door cracked open and Pete appeared in the shadows. He looked awful, if I'm being honest. His hair was overgrown and a complete mess, he had bags under his sad eyes, and he was dressed in the baggiest sweatpants on the planet and the dirtiest shirt I've ever seen anyone wear before. He smelled bad too. But nonetheless, I forced a smile on my face and waved at him, "Hi, Pete."

"Hey, Patrick," He replied, his voice low and depressing, "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to stop by, see how you're doing, tell you about the temporary bassist we found."

"Oh, you found one?" He retorted, opening the door fully and inviting me in. I stepped inside and he closed the door behind me.

"Yeah, her name is Phoenix and she is-"

"Phoenix?" He questioned, guiding me into his living room that was an absolute disaster. Food cartons were strewn about the floor and couch and various pill bottles and drug paraphernalia covered the coffee table. I stayed in the doorway, not really want to go in there, whereas he made his way over to the couch like it was nothing and plopped down.

"Yeah, she's really great," I told him, biting my lip, "I think you'd really like her."

"Right now I really don't like anybody," He grumbled, picking up the remote out from under a bunch of wrappers and changing the channel on the television.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the threshold of the doorway, "Why is that?"

He just shook his head, "I really can't explain it, Patrick. Everyone and everything just disgusts me. It's like...I know I've felt this way before, where I just want my head to shut off and to completely stop thinking about anything at all. But this time...it's, like, a thousand times worse." He ran his fingers through his greasy hair as his facial expression began to distort. He was starting to cry. I frowned - I couldn't stand to see him cry. He sniffled and wiped under his eyes, "But you don't care about that, do you?"

"Of course I do, Pete," I retorted, "I care about you very much."

He shook his head, "You shouldn't."

"Pete..."

"Hey, how are those songs coming out?" He changed the subject, obviously not wanting to talk about what we were discussing anymore.

"They're...They're okay," I admit, "They're coming along."

"That's good."

A blanket of silence fell over the two of us before I looked down at my watch and saw what time it was. I was late for the studio session. I told him I needed to get going and he nodded his head in understanding. "You want me to come by again sometime?" I asked him, though I really shouldn't have made it an option.

"I would like that very much," He replied, a very small smirk crawling onto his face. I smiled back.