You're Not Even Mine to Miss [Fall Out Boy - Wattys 2014]

➽ Track Thirty (Pete's POV).

Track Thirty (Pete’s POV): I don’t know when I lost my mind; maybe when I made you mine.

(June 26th, 2008)

It was our last song for the sold-out secret gig that we had done that night in England.

The venue of the gig was relatively smaller than our usual venues, but as always, it was filled with excited fans of all ages. We even used the name ‘Save Latin’ to introduce our band to the people in the gig, but I was pretty certain that most of the people in there knew that we were actually Fall Out Boy. That was actually the name we used in our performances in the past when we were still mere amateurs.

Everybody was screaming their hearts out, their arms were waving in the air, their fists clenched so high, and there were those wide smiles on their faces as they waited for us to sing the final song. During the whole performance, everybody was doing their stupid thing while we were onstage, doing our own stupid thing. But, nobody really cared. The band did a great job of finding those kids who didn’t understand the mainstream songs about boozing and partying that were being blasted from their radios. Our band had found those kids whose lullabies were screamos and rock music, those kids who were trying to figure out themselves too hard that they couldn’t figure themselves out, those kids who didn’t have a really good day and wanting to meet those people who were kind of like them.

And that was our job as entertainers: to let those kids feel that they were loved, and other people could actually understand their inner feelings, that other people actually cared about them. What the band wanted was to let those kids have a great time, and I think that we had done our best to prove ourselves that we were something even more than a band. We were brothers and sisters—a family.

This was my favourite job in the whole world—and I couldn’t ask for more.

I had no idea why the band chose me to be their mouthpiece (maybe it was by forfeit or some reason that I didn’t understand or care about), they had assigned me to introduce every song that we were going to perform onstage, and saying something before the last song was always the most difficult. I didn’t want the night to end just yet – but sadly, it had to. There should always be an end in everything to start something new.

“You guys have been actually amazing,” I told the audience as I held the microphone closer to my mouth, trying to catch my breath after all the screaming that I had done in the previous song. “We really appreciate all of you for being in here. We’ll see you next time, England.”

Hands were flailing, shouts were echoing, feet were stomping, hearts were beating. Everybody had begun cheering for us again, and I could even see that some of the audience were teary-eyed as they screamed. I had no idea why, but I was really glad that they were enjoying the performance, that their night was made because of us. It was amazing how music could do that to people – could make people feel inspired and draw tears – and bring all of us closer together. I had pumped my fist to the air, and the crowd had screamed even more.

This was it.

“I'm good to go, and I'm going nowhere fast. It could be worse. It could be taking you there with me,” Patrick started singing as I watched him stomp his feet repeatedly on the floor, his eyes concentrated on his fingers as he held on the guitar strings. “I'm good to go, but it looks like I'm still on my own…”

As I continued playing with my bass guitar, I let my eyes scan the crowd, smiling widely at everyone. On the front row stood Donnie and Rachelle, the two brunettes’ hands clasped together as they sang together with the vocalist of the band. VIP passes were hanging on their necks (I was the one who had handed them those before we got onstage), and then I noticed that my girlfriend was staring at me. I couldn’t help but stare back at her and shoot her a grin, which only gave me a renewed energy for the final song.