Fall Asleep, Phone in Hand / Prologue(?)
Title: Fall Asleep, Phone in Hand / Prologue(?)
Author:
fuzzyxhair
Rating: PG-13 [language]
Pairing: [eventually] Peterick
Summary: No one tries to care anymore.
Disclaimer: Not true, not close. Just a figment of my imagination and nothing more. Plz don't sue.
Author Notes: i couldn't be more notorious for never finishing stories. i probably have 8 that aren't finished, at the mo. i'm going to try to take what i have with this and run with it, maybe. let's see if you like it first.
Author:
fuzzyxhairRating: PG-13 [language]
Pairing: [eventually] Peterick
Summary: No one tries to care anymore.
Disclaimer: Not true, not close. Just a figment of my imagination and nothing more. Plz don't sue.
Author Notes: i couldn't be more notorious for never finishing stories. i probably have 8 that aren't finished, at the mo. i'm going to try to take what i have with this and run with it, maybe. let's see if you like it first.
No one knows who he is anymore. No one knows how to figure it out. No one tries to care anymore. So now it’s just him, Pete, by himself with the world around him. Surrounding him. Suffocating him. So many people and not one cares anymore. Well, okay. Maybe one. Maybe.
But in his head, no one cares. There’s no one there for him and he’s alone. So he’s turned to her. Of all people, it’s her The one person that actually cares about him hates her. Pete, however, doesn’t notice. Because no one cares anymore, remember?
No one talks to him anymore. They don’t even try. Not really, anyway. The band has given up. They’ve postponed the tour, devastating everyone. They didn’t want to, but what else could they do? Not even some of his closest friends, outside the band, will talk to him. Not Travis, not Gabe, not Brendon, not Ryan, not Spencer, not Mikey. No one. Except her But she doesn’t really count, because she’s just there. Not there, but “there”. It works, in a way. It works in his mind and, right now, that’s all that counts. So it’s okay.
But his best friend. His best friend since.. ever, he hates this. He can’t stand it. He doesn’t want to have to stand it. He hates her and he hates when his baby is like this. Can’t stand it. But there’s nothing he can do. When Pete’s in a state like this, well, no one can do anything. He has to figure it out for himself. But sometimes, sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes it takes him months. It’s like he’s a broken car, sitting in someone’s garage. Sort of forgotten but still in the back of everyone’s mind. Waiting to be fixed but’s already figured out he’s got to fix himself.
---
“Pete… Pete!” he groans as he wakes up. It’s her voice, he’s sick of it. So sick of it. But it keeps him coming back.
He, barely, manages out “What…?”
Then, she’s gone. Not there. There’s a note, but no her. It’s almost okay with him. Almost. Sometimes he just needs someone to be there. It doesn’t matter who. It doesn’t matter if they hate him, or if he doesn’t know them, or if it’s just someone with no emotions who will just sit there. Just sit there and listen to him spill out all of his problems like the emo pussy he is. Sometimes.
---
babyboy eksoh: patrick.. i'm sorry, okay? just please.. leave me alone. i'll be ok. promise.
PMSduztheNDQ: okay, but.. pete? promise me one thing. just.. don’t hurt yourself. not again. please. just… i’m always here.
babyboy eksoh: ok, baby. i promise. goodnight, xo
babyboyexskoh has signed off at 3:22 a.m.
There’s no one Patrick would rather be with than Pete. But it’s not up to him. If it were, there would never, not once, be a moment where Patrick didn’t know where his baby boy was.
But Pete on the other hand, would only like to be locked away most of the time. Going back and forth, back and forth, who knew his mind could be so… so fucking confusing? The words spill out like a leaking water bottle, you know when you put it in your soccer bag and when you take it out when you finally get to practice you realize that your water bottle is really out to get you. That it’s main purpose was to ruin everything in your bag, because, as if your life wasn’t already so hard to deal with, your water bottle had to go and fucking leak. So he finally decides that these last lines will work. They’ll have to do for the night and he’s going to have to lay down. Sleep has not come in days, but he needs his mind to shut off for awhile.
Put your hands in the air and don't make a sound
But don't get the wrong idea
We're gonna shoot you
We're gonna shoot you
And there's nothing in your head or pocket, throat or wallet
That could change just how this goes
And everyone shakes to the beat with a barrel down their throat
But in his head, no one cares. There’s no one there for him and he’s alone. So he’s turned to her. Of all people, it’s her The one person that actually cares about him hates her. Pete, however, doesn’t notice. Because no one cares anymore, remember?
No one talks to him anymore. They don’t even try. Not really, anyway. The band has given up. They’ve postponed the tour, devastating everyone. They didn’t want to, but what else could they do? Not even some of his closest friends, outside the band, will talk to him. Not Travis, not Gabe, not Brendon, not Ryan, not Spencer, not Mikey. No one. Except her But she doesn’t really count, because she’s just there. Not there, but “there”. It works, in a way. It works in his mind and, right now, that’s all that counts. So it’s okay.
But his best friend. His best friend since.. ever, he hates this. He can’t stand it. He doesn’t want to have to stand it. He hates her and he hates when his baby is like this. Can’t stand it. But there’s nothing he can do. When Pete’s in a state like this, well, no one can do anything. He has to figure it out for himself. But sometimes, sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes it takes him months. It’s like he’s a broken car, sitting in someone’s garage. Sort of forgotten but still in the back of everyone’s mind. Waiting to be fixed but’s already figured out he’s got to fix himself.
---
“Pete… Pete!” he groans as he wakes up. It’s her voice, he’s sick of it. So sick of it. But it keeps him coming back.
He, barely, manages out “What…?”
Then, she’s gone. Not there. There’s a note, but no her. It’s almost okay with him. Almost. Sometimes he just needs someone to be there. It doesn’t matter who. It doesn’t matter if they hate him, or if he doesn’t know them, or if it’s just someone with no emotions who will just sit there. Just sit there and listen to him spill out all of his problems like the emo pussy he is. Sometimes.
---
babyboy eksoh: patrick.. i'm sorry, okay? just please.. leave me alone. i'll be ok. promise.
PMSduztheNDQ: okay, but.. pete? promise me one thing. just.. don’t hurt yourself. not again. please. just… i’m always here.
babyboy eksoh: ok, baby. i promise. goodnight, xo
babyboyexskoh has signed off at 3:22 a.m.
There’s no one Patrick would rather be with than Pete. But it’s not up to him. If it were, there would never, not once, be a moment where Patrick didn’t know where his baby boy was.
But Pete on the other hand, would only like to be locked away most of the time. Going back and forth, back and forth, who knew his mind could be so… so fucking confusing? The words spill out like a leaking water bottle, you know when you put it in your soccer bag and when you take it out when you finally get to practice you realize that your water bottle is really out to get you. That it’s main purpose was to ruin everything in your bag, because, as if your life wasn’t already so hard to deal with, your water bottle had to go and fucking leak. So he finally decides that these last lines will work. They’ll have to do for the night and he’s going to have to lay down. Sleep has not come in days, but he needs his mind to shut off for awhile.
Put your hands in the air and don't make a sound
But don't get the wrong idea
We're gonna shoot you
We're gonna shoot you
And there's nothing in your head or pocket, throat or wallet
That could change just how this goes
And everyone shakes to the beat with a barrel down their throat