Chapter 8

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-PJ's POV-

I didn't sleep at all the night before, knowing what the next day entailed. Alex tried to stay up with me, keep me company and keep my mind off of what I had been worrying about, but he passed out a little after three in the morning. When he fell asleep, I slipped out of bed, grabbed my bass, and sneaked out of the room, going to the living room and playing the part Patrick had showed me over and over again, trying to perfect it.

I strove to live up to nothing less than the standard Pete had set in place, the standard of near, if not total, perfection. If I didn't perfect this, Fall Out Boy wouldn't be Fall Out Boy. This album would be their worst. And it would be all my fault. So I practiced until my alarm on my phone went off at 8:00 a.m., warning me I had an hour before I had to be at the studio.

The part was embedded in my memory, I knew it by heart, but the second I stepped into that sound booth (upon the producer's orders - telling Joe, Andy, and I that, since Patrick wasn't there yet, we'd just have to work on his parts later), and plugged in the bass they gave to me, Pete's bass to be specific, my mind went blank.

This cannot be happening, this cannot be fucking happening! I kept telling myself, worsening the situation rather than making it better.

"PJ?" Joe spoke into the headset the producer was wearing, his voice resonating over the speakers in the booth, "You okay?"

I nodded my head yes, though in my head I screamed no.

"Are you ready to play?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and grabbed the microphone, replying, "C-Can you give me just another minute? I need to...um...warm up. Yeah, I need to warm up." It was evident in my shaky tone that something wasn't right.

"Take your time," The producer answered me, shoving Joe away from him, "We've got all day."

I nodded my head in appreciation and stepped away from the mic, turning my back to them and running my trembling hands through my hair. Okay, Phoenix, just pick up the bass and play. Fall Out Boy picked you, and they picked you for a reason. Prove it to them that you were the right choice.

I started to pace back and force, biting my lip as I attempted to slow my quickening heart rate. The next I knew, the door clicked open and I spun around to see Patrick closing the door behind him.

"Patrick, I can't do this," I immediately told him, vocalizing the first thought that came to my mind.

He chuckled, "What are you talking about, PJ?" He slipped his hands into his pockets and began to approach me, "Of course you can do this."

"No, Patrick, I really can't," I lowered myself down to the floor covered in wires and crossed my legs, putting my head in my hands as tears began to brim my eyes. "I forgot the part," I croaked, my lip quivering, "I forgot the fucking part."

"Hey, it's okay," He replied soothingly, sitting down in front of me and placing a hand on my knee, "Just take a deep breath and calm down."

I shook my head.

"Hey, you want to know something?" He asked, his voice comforting. "The first time I ever recorded a song, in a studio like this, I was so nervous about singing, because I couldn't stand my voice - hell, I still can't stand it - that I completely messed up the song. I was singing lyrics Pete had omitted or lyrics Pete hadn't even written, that I'd just made up on my own off the top of my head. And the sad part was that, even after I took five and read the lyrics over again, I still didn't couldn't do the song."

"If this is your version of a pep talk, you're really bad at it."

He sighed, "What I'm trying to say, PJ, is that it'll all work out in the end. It always does."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're an amazing bassist, and I know that you're going to kill this," He flashed me a reassuring grin, standing up. "Now get up off of the floor and come on." He extended his hand outward to me. "I've got a part to teach you."

"What?"

"Yeah, I changed the part."

My eyebrows furrowed together and I glanced up at him, "You what?"

"Yeah, I worked on it a little last night," He gave me a weary grin, worried about how I was going to react, "I mean, it's pretty much the same as the old part, but it's slightly different. I just need to show it to you and then we can go over the whole part. Sound good?"

I bit my lip and reluctantly placed my hand in his. He pulled me up and led me out of the recording studio.

"Well?" Joe inquired, looking at Patrick and me.

"We're going to take a little break," He responded, still holding my hand in his. "You guys can record your parts while we're out."

The producer groaned and dropped his head down on the control board.

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