The Music Or The Misery (FOB FanFic)

Chapter 14

-Patrick's POV-

"Mara?" I couldn't believe it, it was really her. I dropped the ski mask to the ground and approached her, cupping her face in my hands as I stared deeply into her eyes, "I haven't seen you in forever. How have you been? What are you doing here?"

She wrapped her hands around mine and lowered them back to my sides, "I've been okay. And I was just out on the streets, you know, clearing my head and all when I saw you. I didn't know it was you, though. Now, I answered you question, care to answer mine?"

I glanced back at the can of spray paint that I left lying on the sidewalk and then back at her, "I don't think I can tell you."

"Why not?" Mara inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I...It's..." I stumbled on my words, not really knowing how to phrase what I wanted to say without exposing the whole secretive operation. "I wanted to take a stab at rebelling, you know?" I finally decided on replying.

She giggled, "Oh yeah, because a rebel definitely says what he's doing is 'taking a stab at rebelling'."

I couldn't help but laugh along, "Hey, I'm new to this. Give me a break."

Her laughing died down, slipping her hands into her pockets, swaying back and forth on her feet, the smile she had on her face evanescing. "So...I saw that news report. You know, the one about the 'mystery band'." My face dropped as the guilty feeling I had temporarily forgotten about resurfaced. "I thought you didn't want to play music because you'd get arrested or killed. But you'll play eight songs in front of a crowd of drunk ex-artists when you wouldn't even play one song for your girlfriend in the safety of your own home?"

I rolled up the sleeves of the black long-sleeve I was wearing and murmured, "Mara, you don't understand..."

"No, I really don't, Patrick. So what changed?"

Her initial cheerful persona had completely faded by now and was replaced by an indignant one.

"I-I don't know," I stammered, meeting her fiery gaze, "It's just...I received this letter in the mail-"

"One with only your name written on it, right?" She interrupted me. I closed my opened mouth as she shortened the already-short distance between us. "One day, after coming home from interviewing for a job you honestly could care less about and just applied for because you have nothing else to do, you walk inside, take your coat off and go into the living room to watch TV, but you don't turn it on because there's nothing to watch. Then there's a knock on your door. You go to answer it, only to find that no one's there. So you close the door, and there's another knock. You open the door again, this time noticing a letter on the doorstep. One that tells you to come to the Sears Tower. Am I right?"

"How would you..." I began to question when my voice trailed off. My eyes grew wide. I already knew the answer. "It was you."

She took a step away from me, folding her arms over her chest.

"You're the one behind all of this?" I stated, though it came out more as a question as I stared at her, everything coming into perspective.

"Sort of," She affirmed my beliefs. I turned away from her and ran my hands through my hair, beginning to pace back and forth. "I mean, I'm the one behind your part in all of this."

I glanced back at her over my shoulder, "There are others?"

"Well, no, but we're working on that."

"We're? We're working on that? Who's we?"

In the dark of the night, I could see her cheeks grow red, "I-I can't disclose that kind of information to you, Patrick."

"Just like you couldn't tell me it was you all along," I retorted, feeling tears starting to brim in my eyes. I fought to hold them back. "Do you know how many nights I stayed up at night because I couldn't sleep without you there? Because I was worrying about where you were and what you were doing?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off, continuing, "I just want to know one thing, Mara. Why? Why us? Was it just because you wanted to see me again? Or did you actually believe that four fucking misfits thinking they found their place in this world - only to have it taken away from them by the fucking government - could actually do something like this?"

Mara hesitated to answer, and when she did, it sounded like she was uncertain of herself, "Both?"

I scoffed and shook my head, "I just don't get it, Mara. Just...why?"

She heaved a sigh and rubbed nervously behind her neck, "Can we talk about this somewhere a little more private?"

*****

There we were, sitting on the rooftop of one of the buildings close by, with our legs dangling over the edge as we looked out at the dark city in front of us.

She told me everything.

How after she left the house, she stayed with a friend for a little while before she bumped into someone in the street (she wouldn't tell me who, though, but it was apparently another musician).

They took her into one of the government-approved side shops and described the situation to her, all while trying to blend in and not seem suspicious. The situation was that this person wanted to take down the ban and that they were going to need help. This person was aware that she was dating/had dated me and so they wanted her to get our band to join the fight, bringing them to the Sears Tower, which was where this person had made their headquarters.

Mara agreed, writing the four letters and having them delivered to the four of by other people who had also been recruited by this person, including Gabe and Alex.

"The only reason I know how you got your letter was because I delivered yours personally," She explained to me, playing with her hands in her lap and keeping her head hung low, "I wanted to see you again. You need to know that I didn't want to leave you, Patrick. I just...I didn't know how to come back after I left. I was supposed to be there for you, through the thick and thin, that's what being in a relationship is all about. But I couldn't. I just couldn't deal with you and the person the ban was turning you into."

I looked over at her.

She sighed and went on to say, "You need music in your life, Patrick. You're not you without it."

"I know."

"And that's why I recruited you and your friends. Because...I don't know if you noticed, but did you realize how happy you were playing music again? When you were on that makeshift stage, with your friends?" Mara shook her head, the corner of her lip curled up into smirk, "I don't think I'd ever seen you more happy in all the time I've known you. And as long as you remember what music does for you, and nobody else leaves or quits, this ban is going to be taken down."

"But the ban's not going to be taken down unless we actually do something, Mara," I argued. She raised her eyebrow. "This cute stuff we're doing...drawing on walls and playing petty shows on rooftops that end with our audience getting shot down...it's not doing anything. If we're going to take this ban down, we need to change what we're doing."

"I know."

"Do you? Do you really?"

"Yes," She stood up, the wind picking her hair up off of her shoulders, "You're right, believing in yourself and spreading the word isn't going to cut it. You need to do something more." She pulled out something from behind her back pocket. My eyes widened as she handed it to me. It was gun. "Get Andy and Joe to come with you. There are two more of these back at the Tower, in their rooms under the beds. You can retrieve them when you return tonight. Speaking of that, Alex is going to pick you up in..." She looked down at her watch, "...six minutes. You better hurry up."

"Are you crazy?" I yelled at her, ignoring her time warning.

"A little," She answered, putting her hands on her hips, "But I like to think of it as taking matters into my own hands. And if you do as I say, you might just end this ban sooner than Ty...we planned." Her cheeks grew red as I stared down at the weapon in my hands, not even acknowledging her slip-up. "All you have to do is get Joe and Andy their guns and leave. I recommend you take the stairs, there are no cameras in the staircases and the cameras don't face the elevator and stairs, so you won't be seen. Just be careful making your way over to them."

I glanced up at her, asking, "What do you even want us to do once we leave?"

She smiled, "I want you to kill the president."