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

➽ Track Thirty-Four (Pete's POV).

Track Thirty-Four (Pete’s POV): I loved you since I knew you. I wouldn’t talk down to you; I have you to tell you just how you feel. I won’t share you with another boy.

(July 12th, 2008)

Refreshing my inbox for the fourth time, I let out a whoop after finally receiving an electronic message from my girlfriend that I had been waiting for in about ten minutes. Due to my utter excitement to spread the news, without too much thinking, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and browsed through my contacts. My first choices were the three-fourths of the band—as usual.

First choice: Patrick Stump, but I quickly eliminated him because, as the band’s self-proclaimed night owl, among all four of us, my best friend had always been the last one to go to bed… and the last one to roll out of the bed, which meant that he was still asleep by that time. Plus, Joe didn’t tell him all the details yet about his plans in helping Donnie.

Second choice: Andy Hurley, but, just like Patrick, he didn’t know most of the details yet, and explaining everything to him would take time, and Joe already told me that he wanted to do the honours in briefing both Patrick and Andy all about it.

And lastly, of course, the man who was behind this all: Joe Trohman, knowing that he was also waiting for her message above everything else.Without hesitation, I dialled his number. He answered the call after six rings—and then I realized that the Jew might’ve still been sleeping when my eyes had suddenly shifted to the wall clock. It was still 6:47AM.

Instead of his long-time girlfriend’s voice that I was expecting to hear from the other line (because she was usually the one who would answers calls if her boyfriend still had his head covered with a pillow), a groggy and grumpy and slightly slurred “What the flying fuck do you want at six in the morning, Peter?” greeted me.

“Good morning to you too, Joseph,” I greeted him in a sing-song voice with a smirk, but I knew that it only fuelled his anger. He groaned loudly in irritation, probably chipping his teeth on the mic, but I decided to ignore his non-verbal complaints. “Get up, Trohman. And it’s not even six anymore; it’s nearly seven o’ clock. We’ve got to go to the studio before ten.”

A pause.Some scuffling from the other line.He was probably squinting through his eyelids to check the alarm clock. With an exasperated sigh, he asked me, “You never consider things yet before you do them, don’t you?”

Funny, I think I just made that crystal clear today. What Joe was telling me might be correct, but I was quite hurt by what he said. Snorting in contempt, I said, “Hey, I do think about things before I do them! I may not be a genius, but I’m not a complete bird-brain either…”—and then something hit me, like a slap on the face after saying something stupid to a girl on a first date—“…wait a second! Did I wake you up?”

Another sigh came from the other line. “What was your first clue?” Joe asked me rhetorically, and I could just imagine him fisting his curly locks and wanting to stab me repeatedly with a butter knife. “Pete, no offence, but why are you being so stupid?”

“This has nothing to do with my non-existent stupidity—”

“You do know that you could’ve just waited to tell me about Donnie later when we all get in the studio. And I’m sure as hell that you’ve completely forgotten that you can just knock on my door any time, right? I’m sleeping in the room right next to yours.”

And then another slap-like realization hit me—I had forgotten that I hadn’t actually slept in my apartment the previous night. I wasn’t in Chicago at all, but rather, I was in California with the band and the crew.And we were all in the same hotel.