A Living Hell (Fall Out Boy Fan Fiction)

It just Slipped Out (Pete's POV)

"What the hell was that?" I asked.

"I-It sounded like M-Meagan," Marie said.

"Oh my god," I said as he shot up from the couch and bolted towards the stairs.

"Pete!" Patrick shouted as he got up. "Guys, please, you all stay here. I'm going after Pete."

They all nodded and Patrick took off up the stairs and down the hallway until I reached mine and Meagan's room, but he ran into me. I was standing in the doorway.

"P-Pete?" he asked.

I said nothing, so he looked past me. He noticed that I was pointing towards the closet door, so he changed his gaze to that area. What he saw... Geez.

"I've taken your poor, little Meagan. Want her back? ~C," Patrick read out loud.

"O-Oh my god," I said.

"Pete..." he said. "A-Are you ok?"

"Ok?" I asked as I turned to him. "Ok, Patrick? Are you fucking kidding me right now?! My girlfriend, the one I love to death, to pieces, is gone. Someone fucking took her! And you're asking me if I'm ok?! How could anyone, ANYONE, be ok after something like that?! You're so fucking stupid sometimes."

After I said that, I instantly realized what I said, what I let slip through my lips before thinking about it, yet again. Pete, why are you so fucking stupid! You just called your best friend, your BROTHER, fucking stupid. Sure, you could have called him worse, but most times, the simpliest things hurt the most.

I just stood there, in front of Patrick, making awkward and pointless eye contact. He knows what I said. He knows how I am. He knows I didn't mean it. He does, doesn't he?

"P-Patrick?" I asked.

"Pete," he said as he looked away from me.

"I-I didn't mean that," I said.

"I know, but you said it and it still hurts," he said.

"Patrick, I'm sorry," I said. "It just slipped out."

"Yeah, that's what you say about everything you say," he retorted.

"Oh, what's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"You know very well what it means, Pete," Patrick said as he crossed his arms.

"Oh, do I now? I suppose if I knew, then I wouldn't have asked, right?" I stated as I did the same.

"Jesus, Pete," he said. "I'm the stupid one? Maybe you should listen to yourself."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"You heard me," he said, raising his voice slightly. "You let things 'slip out' all the fucking time! You apologize for them, in your own way, not sincerely, but the damage has already been done, Pete! Some things you say can never be taken back! Some things you've said to people, to our own fans sometimes, Jesus, can never be taken back! Some things are permanently engraved into people's heads, Pete, and you don't seem to fucking care!"

"Maybe I fucking don't!" I screamed. "Maybe I don't fucking care about what I've said, what I've done, or any of you assholes!"

"Oh, so you don't care about Meagan? The one who just got taken, kinapped, something, and you don't care about your best friends?" he asked.

"Stop putting words in my mouth," I said.

"Words in yo- Pete, I did no such thing! You just fucking said it! You said you don't care about any of us assholes!" he shouted.

"Hypothetically speaking, God!" I shouted. "I didn't actually mean it!"

"Just like how you didn't mean to say I'm fucking stupid? Or how you hate me? Or how you wished to never speak to me again?" Patrick asked, making me remember a million more things I let "slip out."

"I meant that last one," I said.

"Oh, did you now?" he asked.

"I did and you know it!" I shouted. "You're a fucking asshole!"

"Best friends," he scoffed. "Ex friends till the end, Pete."