.Prologue.

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Pete wentz sits crosslegged on the floor of the tour bus while writing in writing in his worn out leather bound notebook. Joe Trohman places his luggage in the storage above his bunk, before laying back on his bed with his hands easing his neck against the pillow. Andy Hurley was curled up with his earbuds in his ears, with a phone in one hand and an organic vegan cruelty free chocolate bar that made everyone roll their eyes. Then there was me, Patrick Stump, standing there in the doorway of our tour bus like a bloody idiot; after all this was my home for the next six months, I better get used to it.

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