The Music Or The Misery (FOB FanFic)

Chapter 22

-Patrick's POV-

Gabe pulled the car up to the tall gates blocking the outside world from the White House. He put the car in park and glanced back at the three of us, a mischievous grin stretched across his face, "You ready, boys?"

Joe nodded his head eagerly and Pete made a sound of acknowledgment. As for me, I kind of just sat there, gazing out the window, not quite sure if I was ready.

This was all just too surreal for me.

I, Patrick Stump, lead singer of the band Fall Out Boy, was about to kill the President of the United States of America.

About a year ago, I was celebrating the release of our fourth studio album. Then the ban happened and all of our hard work was destroyed, taken away - similar to the way the Nazis stole all those paintings during the second World War. I was forced to demote myself to an ordinary job, a job that the government deemed "acceptable". And now here I was, sitting outside of the White House, with a plan in my back pocket to murder the man behind my misery.

Do you want the music or do you want the misery?

I clenched my fists by my sides - I was ready to do this. I was going to get my music back, I was going to get Mara back, and I was get my happiness back.

Anyways, it wasn't like I could turn back. It was too late in the game to turn back.

"Alright, let's do this," Gabe retorted, smiling widely and facing forward.

The gates were opened from the inside, the metal scratching the stone as it scraped over it. Gabe shifted the car into drive and pulled into the presidential grounds. The gates closed behind us and we lurched towards the heavily guarded building. Quite ironic, if you thought about it.

I wondered how Tyler had managed to arrange this. He couldn't have just called up the president, had a nice little chat with him (acting like everything was just peachy), and asked if some of his friends could come and visit him and his family. That was preposterous, unfathomable.

Gabe brought the car up to the back doors of the place and standing at the doors were many security guards, their heads held high and their hands clasped behind their backs, giving off a very pretentious appearance. They stood in a formation in such a way that they were protecting someone - our target.

Gabe looked back and told us that once we entered the White House, to just go with the flow of things, that we'd know when it was time to attack and that this was going to work.

The three of us nodded our heads in unison and exited the vehicle. As we approached the guards, they stepped to the side and revealed the man only a few people have had the opportunity to meet. He flashed a smile at us, "Hello."

"Mr. President," Pete replied for the three of us, walking up to the president and immediately going for a firm handshake, "How are you today?"

"Good, and you?"

"Great!"

The President grinned, "Please, come with me."

We were led inside and the doors were shut and locked behind us. The guards disappeared, the president leading us down the hallway. We didn't get far before two new guards emerged from different hallways and began to walk in front of the President. I caught their faces before they turned to face forward - the two guards were Alex and Gabe, dark, nearly-black sunglasses over their eyes. They said nothing, just walked. The corner of my lips curled upward.

"So, a good friend of mine told me that you were, and I quote, 'The Defenders of The Faith'," The President remarked in an attempt to spark a conversation. The three of us looked over at him, me with wide eyes. A good friend? Maybe Tyler did just call him. "And that you were fighting against those underground tyrants."