Band Geeks Will Never Hurt You

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me"

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me"

Pete Wentz was beginning to feel incredibly agitated as he searched around the campus for Patrick, partially because his roommate was missing, and partially because he was certain that his eyeliner was smudged by now. Pete hadn't seen the flute player since lunch, and now that marching rehearsal had been canceled, he couldn't find him. He wandered around in the rain, but all that did was get him completely drenched. There was still no sign of Patrick.

Finally, he found him. Patrick was searching for something behind the football field. "There you are!" Patrick exclaimed when he saw Pete. "I got lost and I couldn't find the residence hall!"

"Come on," Pete said. "Let's head back there." Pete started walking to the residence hall, and Patrick followed him. Both of them climbed up to Room 310 and entered the dorm room. Pete was soaked, so he ducked into the bathroom and changed into dry clothes, specifically black skinny jeans, the trumpet T-shirt from last year (which read "#notsaxophones - The Black Parade Trumpet Section"), a black sweatshirt over that, and of course, eyeliner. No wonder everyone thought he was emo.

As Pete stared into the mirror, he thought about Patrick. Then again, he was always thinking about Patrick. They had only known each other for a few days, but Patrick had already made his way into his heart. Pete was certainly fond of his tiny, fedora wearing roommate, but he didn't think that Patrick felt the same way. Nevertheless, Pete finished applying his eyeliner and went out into the main part of the dorm room, where Patrick was lying on top of his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey Patrick," Pete said. "What's up?"

"The ceiling," Patrick replied sarcastically.

"You know that's not what I meant," Pete said, but he was smiling. He really did appreciate Patrick's sassiness. "How's everything going?"

"Okay," Patrick said. "I'm just kind of homesick."

"You'll be home by the end of the day, Patrick," Pete said.

"I know," Patrick said. "Band camp is just exhausting."

"It kind of is sometimes," Pete agreed.

"How are you?" Patrick asked.

"I'm not okay, trust me," Pete replied as he sat down next to Patrick. "Frank thinks that he can gallivant around with a saxophone player, and we still don't know what we're doing for our skit."

"I think Frank and Gerard would make a cute couple," Patrick stated.

Pete groaned. "Patrick, you just don't get it, do you?" he said. "We can't let a trumpet and a saxophone be together. It's just wrong."

"Why is it wrong?" Patrick asked. His cluelessness was cute at times, but Pete was getting sick of explaining the inner workings of marching band to his roommate.

"Because we're rivals," Pete explained. "The saxes have been our enemies for as long as anyone can remember, and it should stay that way."

"Why can't everyone just get along?" Patrick said.

"You just don't understand," Pete said. "Oh well. What's the first thing you're going to do when you get home?"

"Probably listen to music," Patrick said. "I forgot to bring my iPod to band camp, so I haven't been able to listen to anything for the last three days."

Pete gasped. "How did you live?!" he exclaimed.

"I really don't know," Patrick said.

"Here, I'll put on something," Pete said. "What kind of music do you like?"