Our Shared Madness

8: What A Catch, Donnie

Bipolar depression was known to mess with me. It wasn't a secret for very long. Some days were good and I hardly remembered I had the disorder. Other days reminded me why I was so messed up. Once the bad thoughts started flowing, there was no stopping myself.

My self-esteem was always low. I was nervous about not being able to control myself, so I tried my hardest to stay calm. Playing on stage was oddly calming and it was easier to be myself and let loose.

It was a little different for Patrick.

I've never seen a guy with such a low self-esteem. He often shielded his true self from the public, which was a shame. It's disappointing sometimes, he's such a great, funny, and friendly guy. People know how nice Patrick Stump is, but they don't know him like I know him.

It's a good thing to have low self-esteem sometimes. You're more aware of yourself and how your actions and words affect other people. It's important to be aware like that when you're in a famous band like Fall Out Boy. Words can kill your reputation.

When Patrick and I were together, we were unstoppable. It felt like it was the two of us against the world. We were two insecure, talented guys.

I wanted to dedicate a song to him on the upcoming album I've been working on. The guy needs some credit. People should understand how amazing Patrick really is.

First, I needed inspiration. The person that helped me the best with lyrics was Patrick. Although, writing a song about him with his help would be awkward. I shrugged and called him up to "hang out". We gathered in the basement of my house and stuck around the instruments.

Patrick messed around on the guitar. He probably would've been doing that at home anyways. I was doing the guy a favor. He had an audience. Me.

Favors got me thinking of the millions that I owe to this little guy. He just about saved my life. I was ready to take my life and he was the only one that showed me any kind of concern and care. Everyone else just dismissed me as a guy who wanted more fame and attention than he already had. Patrick reminded me that I was given a life, the best thing anyone could ever get. Letting go of that was just plain stupid.

My pen started scribbling away before my mind could catch up to it. I started writing away an apology song. Writing this song made me think of Donnie Hathaway and Roberta Flack. Together, they wrote beautiful things. After Donnie committed suicide, Roberta was left to do things on her own. I couldn't imagine leaving Patrick to do Fall Out Boy on his own.

I stopped to watch him for a minute to gather my thoughts. His eyebrows were knit in concentration. I smirked and leaned back into my chair, "Working on anything new?"

He blushed and shook his head, "No, just goofing off. I never really make good stuff this way."

I shot up straight, startling Patrick a little. It was a perfect addition to the song.

"Shut up, you know you write amazing stuff," I said staring off into space, pulling out lyrics and forming them together in my head.

He turned his gaze back down to the guitar and started adjusting the tuning, "No that's on you."

I grabbed my scrap sheet and started scribbling down lyrics that made us famous: Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy?, Sugar We're Going Down, Dance Dance, This Ain't a Scene It's an Arms Race, and Thnks Fr Th Mmrs. After finishing in a handwriting that he might be able to read, I flung the paper into his face. He looked down at it, pushing his glasses up closer.

"You did that. Your voice and your talent made us famous. Don't you ever let me hear you say you're less important than you are," I squatted down to his level and watched him read the paper.

He smiled to himself and nodded, looking back up at me, "Thank you."

I chuckled and gave him a hug, "You're going to love this song."

"Song?" Patrick questioned me, "What song?"

"Oh you'll see," I winked and went back to writing.