Can't Stand Me Now [Patrick]

[Pete Wentz]

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[Patrick Stump]

THAT VOICE WHICH CALLS TO ME, AND SPEAKS MY NAME
AND DO I DREAM AGAIN?

It was strange. What you ask? He's not sure, neither am I really. Just everything at the moment. Cell phone in one hand, a small plastic white bag in the other, Patrick watched his feet as they hit the sidewalk with each step. His hat was pulled down, green eyes shielded from the sun and the glances of others. He'd been stopped several times already, asked to sign autographs, one girl even asked him for a hug. Of course he'd agreed to it- giving the teenager a hug and an autograph while her mother took a few pictures. It always made him laugh a bit, as to why someone would want his signature. To him- it meant absolutely nothing. It was a scribble on a piece of paper, a lyric book, a CD cover, a magazine. Nothing important, just a name. But there were the people who actually wanted it, who would do anything to get their hands on that signature. It was the weirdest thing in the world.

Life is full of surprises. Sometimes, this entire life felt like a dream. Snap awake, and he'll be sitting behind a drum set, practicing for a gig with Xgrinding processX or Patterson, not singing for one of, possibly, the most famous bands in the United States, maybe the world. Life- is strange.

Flipping his wrist, the bag swung around his fingers, straining the plastic as he tightened his grip. A set of keys jingled in his pocket as he walked, and his knuckles were white as he gently squeezed his cell phone. Quickly he slipped his phone into his hoodie's pocket before brushing a loose piece of hair out of his eyes, pushing the strands behind his ear, tucked away beneath his camouflage 5o4 Plan hat. Carelessly, his gaze fell to his feet again, brown and blue Nike sneakers tapping on the concrete. Simply out of boredum he began to swing his bag, watching it gracelessly swing back and forth from his hand. A little white pendulum. The soft scent of coffee suddenly filled the air and he glanced up, stopping in front of a fairly empty Starbucks. A smile came to his lips and he grabbed for the door, holding it open as a woman went in, and still waited as someone exited with a tray full of cups. He nodded in reply to their "thank yous", but didn't really say anything, pale cheeks filling with a light red tint.

He glanced around, grinning once he spotted Pete, casually walking over before flopping into a chair on the opposite side of the table. Infact, he'd slid into the chair so fast he'd actually moved it to the side a little, a rather disturbing squealing sound coming from the chair as it scraped across the floor, earning him a few glances from the other people in the Starbucks. He stuck his tongue out and made a rather odd face before flopping his bag onto the table and quietly drumming on the surface with his knuckles. And the word of the day is?

Strange.

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete said with a smile. "What's in the bag?" Pete asked, nodding toward the white bag that Patrick had in his hand. [/ul][/blockquote][/size]

[Patrick Stump]

SING ONCE AGAIN WITH ME, OUR STRANGE DUET
MY POWER OVER YOU, GROWS STRONGER YET

Patrick wiggled in his chair, first tapping his foot in a slightly impatient way, before wriggling his entire body. He bit his lip and made another strange face- suddenly not liking the idea of sitting now. No- he didnt have a butt problem, he just didn't want to sit still. He smiled and tapped the table a few times again, watching Pete stare into his cup. "oh em gee is tinkerbell in there?!" Okay, so he was a bit... hyped up on.. something. What that is, I'm not quite sure yet. He scrunched his face up slightly when Pete asked him what was in his bag, and opened it a little bit, peering inside.

"Uhhhhmm... A bottle of water, some gum, guitar picks... ah! zoh-my-gawd! astring!" Quickly he shoved his hand into the bag, quickly pulling out a small black string. "It's a striiiing" He 'giggled' per say, and held up the string, staring at it like he'd just found gold. The small bits of loudness from him gained quite a few glares from everyone else in the coffee shop, many staring at him with a "what the fuck is wrong with this guy?" expression. Actually, what was wrong with him? Absolutely nothing. It was just one of those happy days. Happy happy happy. He grinned before sticking out his tongue and closing his eyes, then shoved the string back into his bag.

He smiled, giggle-snorting again before seemingly calming himself down. Didn't expect that did-cha? Yeah- neither did I really. He glanced around the Starbucks once more, watching as people quickly redirected their attention to something else, as he had spotted them. They really had nothing to stare at. Was this place anti-happy? Starbucks. Anti-Happy. Anti-Patrick? How rude.

"Soo.. uhm..." He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back in is chair a little, tapping his feet on the floor. "Whats neeeew?" He longated the word, for emphasis maybe, he wasnt really sure. Today was a strange day, and probably wouldn't get any more normal from here. He flicked his hat up a little bit and it stayed on his forehead for a few seconds before falling back down to cast a soft shadow over his face.

Hesitant, he pulled his water out of the bag, flicking the string off of it. Silently he spun the cap and held it between his pinky and ring finger as he took a few sips of water- then put it back on, quite tightly, and set it on the table. He lifted up one of he handles on the bag, staring inside at the small package of gum that had gotten slightly wet from the cold bottle of water, and the bag of six yellow guitar picks. It was odd that he'd bought... bright.. yellow.. picks, but it was something different besides those stupid cream colored ones. Why he'd bought them anyway, he wasnt exactly sure, like everything else that had happened today. It's not like he really needed picks, and knowing him he'd lose them in the next couple of weeks, more likely to be days, but we'll aim for a week or two.

[/center]

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete said simply, and he stood up and threw the cup into the bin. For a second he considered getting himself another coffee, but perhaps it wasn't such a good idea. Instead he settled on a chocolate muffin, chocolate was good, right? Chocolate had serotonin in it, so Pete convinced himself he wasn't harming his body by eating it. It was only a small amount of chocolate anyway, although he had eaten quite a few cupcakes earlier. Pete sat back down again after ordering the muffin and he put it down infront of him, concentrating on it for a second as if it would sprout legs and make a run for it. He looked up when Patrick opened the bag to see what was in there. Pete grinned again at the obvious happy younger boy, and he felt a little brighter, as if he wasn't so alone anymore.
Pete never really took the time to tell Patrick how much he meant to him, and how even the smallest things from Patrick could totally change his day around. Pete reached for the muffin and broke some off of it, eating it and glancing over the table to look in the bag, seeing the strings and the picks. Patrick was possibly the only person he knew that could be in a platinum selling band and still go out and buy his own picks and strings. It was admirable, at the very least.
"New?" Pete asked. "Not a lot, Jon and I were, like, walking along the beach the other day and we had this massive crowd of people just like following us all the way, it was hilarious," Pete said. "Er... after that I went home, lay in bunk for about five hours, slept for about an hour, woke up and went to get cupcakes, and then came here and here we are," Pete said. "Same old," he muttered, playing the cup again now, the muffin forgotten for the moment. Fickle Pete, jumping from one thing to another, from Sidekick to drink, from drink to muffin, and then back to the drink. [/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Patrick Stump]

AND THOUGH YOU TURN FROM ME, TO GLANCE BEHIND
THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA IS THERE- INSIDE YOUR MIND

Patrick chuckled slightly, leaning the chair back on two legs, his arms crossed behind his head. His jean jacket tightened on his arms slightly, with the motion, but relaxed when he flopped his arms back down on the table. It was a typical thing for Patrick to go out and purchase his own equipment, he preferred it that way. He twisted the cap of his water off again and took a few drinks before putting it back on, and spun it on the table top a couple times. Carelessly he watched Pete throw out his cup and get a muffin. He drummed his knuckles on the table for a minute or so, sticking his tongue out in distaste at the light stinging pains from hitting the edge of the table. "You're just so, like, exciting." He gazed at the ceiling, his hat impairing his vision slightly. Gracelessly he shoved his glasses further up onto his nose and slowly pulled his attention away from the pale ceiling tiles, and back to Pete.

He'd taken quite the round about way back to the tour bus... He just wanted to avoid the commotion for a while, escape the chaos for a bit. Maybe walking down a busy street wasn't quite the ideal way of "escaping" something, but it was better than sitting in the center of Tombstone signing autographs and having his picture taken. Okay, so maybe that wasn't quite escapable unless he was being a hermit in the tour bus [and actually, thats what he was planning on doing as soon as he got back there]- but he had a few things to do first. Like get picks, strings, water, and... oh yeah, gum. Why he'd bought the gum, or why the heck he bought bright yellow picks was beyond reason, but, whatever floats his boat.

He closed his eyes and sighed, flopping the chair back onto all four legs. He smiled slightly, a bit of a smirk, and played with his water bottle- mindlessly spinning it around a few times on the table top. "Hmmm" A yawn, and he bit his lip, continuing to twirl the bottle as fast as he could, without letting it fall over. A strange little game he was playing, but there really wasn't much else to do. Sure, maybe he could get coffee, but for the most part, now- he didnt really feel like getting up, none the less he'd probably be up all night if he had something now. He sneered a bit, a sudden twinge coming to his stomach, reminding himself that he infact hadn't eaten anything so far... but he attempted to push the thought aside and continued playing with the water bottle. Letting it fall sideways on to the table, he glanced up at Pete, chuckling slightly. "Got anything to do later?" An out of place question, but it was better than sitting there in silence.

His gaze wavered between the water bottle, his bag, and Pete, the rotation proceeding a few times before he picked up the water and put it back into the bag. It was a few moments before he began to play with the rather stretched bag handles, tugging at them and ripping off small bits of plastic. He glanced around, noticing that a few people had left, but nothing had really changed, not even the silence. He glanced down at the bag, the small rustles from him picking at it breaking the quiet of the Starbucks, and he stopped, abruptly, and looked around the shop again.

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[Pete Wentz]

[/i] exciting,"[/b] Pete retorted, smiling all the same. "I'm too exciting, actually," Pete said. "I have to, like, dumb my excitingness down for people," Pete joked. He picked at the muffin again and ate some of it, although it tasted slightly bland in his mouth he ate it all the same because it was something to do. Once again Pete had mistaken being bored for being hungry. He was glad that Patrick had turned up though, otherwise he might have brought a hell lot more than just one single muffin. Pete glanced around at everyone else in the shop, coming and going without a care to the two people that were in the shop. Thankfully, none of them really took too much notice of the two men in the corner, probably thinking they were nothing more than students sitting in Starbucks. It was quite a trendy place for people, but for Pete it was basically the thing that kept him running morning, day and night. He broke off some more of the muffin, even though it was tasteless, and he ate that too. He was making quite a mess on the table now, and he glanced down at the crumbs and then up at Patrick.
"I, er, kinda do," Pete said, eating some more of the muffins. "I told Jon to come 'round to our tour bus with the rest of Panic but I don't know if he's coming," Pete said. "I promised him we could beat them in whatever game they chose... Why?" Pete asked. "Because I'll take a raincheck if you've come to like, invite me to dinner," Pete said, eating some more of the muffin. "You never take me anywhere anymore, Patrick, we haven't been out together since we got married!" Pete joked, picking the muffin up and takin the side wrapping off of it and picking some more out and eating that. Pete looked up as a woman entered the shop, and for a split second Pete thought he recognized her. For a brief, fleeting instant he was convinced it was Jeanae, and he put the muffin down and was about to stand up. However, the woman looked toward him and he saw her face and he sighed. It wasn't Jeanae. He looked down at the crumbs on the table and brushed them away, silently telling himself he was a fool. Jeanae was in California, and she wanted nothing more to do with him at that. And he wanted nothing more to do with her. Pete had once said he'd do anything for her - he'd even put her before his band, and that had been a mistake. He looked at the muffin again and broke some more off and ate that. He had to forget about her.
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[Patrick Stump]

THOSE WHO HAVE SEEN YOUR FACE, DRAW BACK IN FEAR
I AM THE MASK YOU WEAR, ITS ME THEY HEAR

Patrick chuckled slightly when Pete flung the sugar at him, and he rather nonchalantly brushed it off his side of the table before wiping off the small bits that had gotten on his shirt. He sighed, watching Pete pick apart his muffin. He closed his eyes for a short moment before getting up and going to the counter and getting a medium coffee, or, well, whatever the stupid Starbucks people called it. It was pretty dumb that they had to rename the sizes, it's like, who do they think they are? King Cup? No- they were too good to use the normal names for cup sizes. It didn't really make much sense to change the name of the sizes. It was just dumb really. But whatever. Not like it matters. He stood there for a minute or so, tapping his foot and glancing around, patiently waiting at the counter for his coffee. More people came in and out, a small line forming behind him before he finally got his coffee. Perhaps it wasn't the greatest idea to get coffee, but, whatever, if he ended up staying up all night, that just gave him a chance to.. do... more stuff. Like, uhm, play guitar! Yeah. He could do that. Not like he didn't do that forty times a day, but, still. He sneered as he sat back down at the table, quickly setting the cup down on the table then blowing on his hand. Hot cup, hot cup.

Another sigh and he opened the lid, jumping back slightly as a large cloud of steam poured out the top. Casually, he set the lid down on the table and ripped open a sugar package or two and propped his head up in his hand, his elbow digging into the table, as he dumped the sugar into the coffee. Quite a tedious thing, but black coffee... ew. He stared into the cup as the color changed, turning to more of a caramel color rather than it's ordinary brownish black. "Why would I, like, want to take you to dinner? You're gross. Maybe like, clean yourself up for once. Jeez." He smirked and snapped the plastic lid back onto the paper cup, and wrapped his hands around it, a slight burning sensation running from his hands, to his wrists- the skin on his palms quickly turning red, but he welcomed the warmth all the same. "What? Me slaving over a hot stove isn't good enough for you anymore Peter? I feel so loved now." His voice changed every so often, the tone switching to a more feminine sound, and he scoffed slightly. He chuckled and got up, gathering all of his empty sugar packets in his hand and threw them out, then flopped back into his chair. Yay coffee.

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete told him. "We have no fun anymore, you just lurk around a bit and I take care of the kids!" Pete said, pretending he was about to sob. "You slave over a hot oven? You think you have it bad? I have to look after our kids, Patrick!" Pete said, now pretending to wipe his eye. "I... I don't even know if I want to do this anymore," he said, trying to keep a straight face and act as seriously as he possibly could, but the smile was quickly spreading over his face and his fake sobs were turning into small laughs now. "You're not the person I married anymore!" Pete said. He could see they were getting some rather odd looks now from some of the people in Starbucks, although Pete wasn't too worried. It was rather like to enjoy making a scene like he was now. It was funny to see people's reactions, especially when Patrick and Pete talked like this. Pete considered how weird it must be for anyone to see them talking like this, let alone if said person actually knew who the pair of them were.
"I feel like there's nothing between us anymore," Pete said, by now his fake sobs were actual laughter as he continued the little charade which had now become something quite regular between Patrick and himself. "We never do things together anymore!" Pete looked down at the muffin wrapper and pretended to wipe his eyes again as he got up and binned the wrapper. Sitting back down again he looked across the table at Patrick, looking hopeless. "What have we become?" Pete asked. Sometimes Pete did feel like Patrick and him had Andy and Joe as kids, and sometimes Pete himself felt like the kid between them all. They all looked out for each other - Pete had known Joe for ages now and he was a lot like his kid brother. Pete always stuck up for Joe, even though Pete was used to teasing him as well. No one else but Pete could tease Joe like that.[/color][/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Patrick Stump]

MUSIC YOU HAVE COME HERE FOR ONE PURPOSE AND ONE ALONE
SINCE THE MOMENT I FIRST HEARD YOU SING, I HAVE NEEDED YOU WITH ME

He grinned. He couldn't help it. He knew that people were staring at them both, and even though he didn't particularly like it, it was amusing all the same. It was a silly little thing they did every once in a while, and honestly, he couldn't even remember how the whole thing started. Probably something Pete had read about them on the internet, that creepy slash fan fiction that their fans came up with. It was a nice thing to laugh at, the things that people wrote about them, that were absolutely ridiculous. Quite often, he knew that Pete had quite a bit of fun with the Q&As, and Patrick never really spent much time on the internet, so he really didn't have much of a clue what was going on with the Fall Out Boy website. He knew about the boardies, and some of their jokes... and there were always the boardie fans that would have them pose for pictures of which he had no idea would be funny.. but they did it anyway. Their fans were amazing, the good, and the bad.

"Well, maybe if the three of you didnt eat like a pack of wolves, I wouldn't have to be cooking all the time." He put the girlish tone back into his voice, continuing to scoff at the end of his sentence. It was obvious people were staring and whispering about them, which just made the whole thing great. He tucked his face toward his chest to try and keep himself from laughing. He rubbed his eyes of which were slightly watering from laughing so much. "Why don't you give me a little credit sometime! Maybe this relationship is over." He rolled his eyes slightly and clicked his tongue then carefully took a sip of his coffee. Still hot. Ouch.

"Good luck finding another person to spend special time with you." Casually he stood up and brushed the sugar off, that had fallen into his lap off of the table. He bit his lip to try and keep himself from laughing, but it didn't quite work the way he hoped it had. He rubbed his cheeks with his hands, brushed his hair away, and wiped his eyes- which started watering again. He grabbed a coffee stirrer and pulled back a piece of the lid, stirring his coffee- just for something to do. It's not like it really needed to be stirred but it seemed like a good idea. He stared into the cup, through the hole, and watched the coffee swirl around before pulling the stirrer out and setting it down on the table.

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete said. "What about the kids' friends? They always come over and eat too!" Pete protested, shaking his head, eyeing Patrick's coffee. If Patrick wasn't going to drink it soon then he probably would. Pete looked up at Patrick again, and for a second he wondered if he would ever have any real kids. Sometimes Pete really did feel like he had kids, what with Decaydance and the bands signed to it, but Pete honestly wondered whether one day he'd be married and he'd have children... It was funny, how quickly reality had to dawn on people. Not so long ago Pete had never wanted to grow up, he'd wanted to be careless and reckless forever, and yet here he was now, contemplating whether or not he'd ever walk up the aisle with some one, whether he'd ever have a significant other... Well, in a strange way he did, but not in the conventional term. Pete glanced down at the table, seeing the muffin crumbs and brushed them off onto the ground. He wanted all that, he wanted to be a fther, wanted the wife... he didn't want to be alone anymore. His band had practically reached the top and beyond, but it wasn't such a pretty sight when you were alone. But it was hard, because Pete had tried to pull someone through that with him, and he couldn't do that. He'd only really just realized that he couldn't pull someone through all this. You couldn't expect someone to be always there at the sidelines with you when things like this were going on.
"Maybe I will go find someone to spend special time with me then!" Pete said. "Maybe I'll ask Beckett out, how does that sound?" Pete asked. He smiled at the very thought of messaging William and asking him out, but all the same he pulled his Sidekick toward him on the table and picked it up. "Yeah?" Pete asked. "I'll do it, you know I will!" Pete said. "Just because Beckett's with Travis right now doesn't mean he doesn't want me. I'm going to find someone who appreciates me - and I'll take the kids with me!" Pete smirked, trying to keep a straight face or look sad or something other than looking amused by his own words or the reactions around them.[/color][/size][/blockquote][/ul]