Fight To the Death ~ Pete

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete said, although he could see completely why they didn't really give two fucks. It wasn't like she hadn't dug herself into that hole - there was no one to blame but herself, so Pete didn't press that issue. Instead he watched the bag fall to the ground and then watched it as the wind blew it and it fluttered away, taken away with the gust. Pete watched it and then looked at Brodie, the caffeine and the pills made him feel like sitting still just wasn't good enough right now, and jumped down from the equipment. "C'mon, let's go somewhere else, Brodie," Pete said. "Let's actually go do something," he told her. He didn't feel like wasting his day just sitting around right now. "I give a shit... let's go, let's go anywhere, as you said, anywhere and hope we land on our feet."[/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Brodie Dhonchaindh]

Standing up she looked at the ground below, she swayed for a moment before stopping herself. Oh she was thinking about jumping off the thing. Just leaping off and hoping she landed on her feet, or better still she could jump off and hopefully break her neck and that would be the end of the matter. She giggled again, looking down below as a sudden rush hit her, the cocktail racing though her veins, she closed her eyes for a moment. Breaking out in a smile. She finally felt like herself. She felt like she should be, this was how it was meant to be.

It broke her to think this was all she was destined for. This was that it had come to. All her hard work and all her years of battling for the band had come to this. She had been cast out from the creative process, ignored by her label and band and used. Well fuck it. She would deal with it. She could cope. She had her magic potions.

Opening her eyes she smiled and jumped from the tower of equipment they had been resting upon and looked up at him. God she had managed to land on her feet too? Shocking. Either that she had just done it too many times for her own good. "Yeah lets go anywhere!" She proclaimed throwing her arms out and spinning round, she stopped and burst out giggling again. "Fuck it all lets just go! Let go just run about!"

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete said, walking across the parking lot, heading for where the Graveyard of Tombstone festival. He wanted to find his band's own tombstone, as morbid as it sounded. He looked back at Brodie and grinned. "Let's go!" he shouted, feeling more energetic now that they were moving. It was better than making Brodie sit down and let the drugs get to her bloodstream, if she started moving then at least the drugs were going to some use, rather than just settling in her blood and doing nothing. Pete turned around again and started running toward the Graveyard, glad he'd chosen his jeans over his other pants. They were better for walking through fields with. He ran through the gates of the Graveyard, not even bothering to check if Brodie was following as he walked through the Gravestones, some weren't carved on yet, and some already had people's names on, and others had bands on them. Pete stopped when he saw Fall Out Boy carved into one and he sat down on the stone, looking around for Brodie now. "Brodie?" he shouted. [/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Brodie Dhonchaindh]

She had that false feeling of being alive. Alive though drugs which sent spikes of energy though her blood. They brought the world alive, they made the colours and they made them move and dance in her vision like colourful lights that didn't exist in reality - only in her mind. She liked it that way. She liked being the only one to see things, she liked having the lights to herself, it made her feel almost...special in a strange sense of the word. Because they were hers, just hers.

She started running, a slight giggle as she felt the wind in her hair. This was what she should have been doing ten years ago as a child. Running though fields, giggling and playing. Thats why she like this. She felt like a child again, she felt almost free and for just a few moments she could get away with acting like a child.

Brodie laughed as she went wild running up and down the headstones, then round and round in a wide circle around Pete, arms out as she laughed and yelled; "Ima plane!" Over and over again. She was acting like a complete child. Such a difference from the violent and angry woman she was portrayed as. Though most of those times where when she was on her way down while she was high Brodie was nice enough. "Ima plane! Watch me fly!" She cried over and over again, well that was before Pete called her name. She tumbled on to the grass beside him and by some fluke ended up on her back looking up at him. "Yes?" She asked with a smile.

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] he said, and he stepped over her and sat down on the grass as well, and then laid down, staring up at the blue sky. He closed his eyes for a second, finding it weird that he of all people was spending his time with someone who was completely off their head like Brodie. Beats being alone, he supposed. He looked over at her and then back up at the sky, and frowned at some of the clouds that were looming.
"That one looks like a sheep," Pete noted, pointing to a cloud in the sky before he put his hand down again. It touched something cold and he recoiled it instantly and looked around, seeing a knife in the grass. It was obvious someone had used it to carve their name into one of the grave stones. It didn't look strong enough, but Pete took it anyway and crawled back to the tombstone that said Fall Out Boy. On the back he placed the tip of the knife in the corner, and began carving away. It was actually harder than it looked, and he was about to give up with just 'Pe' but he thought it looked a bit weird. He stood up afterwards, looking down at the name carved into his band's tombstone. He made a mental note to usher the rest of his band to the Graveyard and make them do the same, but he looked at the knife and dropped it into the tall grass by the tombstone and looked around at Brodie.
"Get up," he said. "Get up or I'll sit on you," he dared, with a grin.[/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Brodie Dhonchaindh]

Looking up to the sky she smirked, tilting her head to look at the cloud, she was giggling again, she was having a giggling fit. She reached out, waving her hand in the air, moving them though the lights as she smiled. She was giggling as she watched her hand move though the lights with interest. She was away with it for a moment, her eyes dancing amounts the lights. "The lights, ain't they pretty. The lights, there so pretty. They dance round and round, there pretty." She told him with sheer conviction. "They dance so pretty, round and round watch them." She told him, as if they were actually there.

She ignored him as he carved his name in to the tombstone. Brodie wouldn't have bothered with it, it was meaningless. It was just a record of something that would fade anyway. Brodie wasn't a sentimental person. It didn't really matter to her at all. She just turned her attention to her hand, moving it back and forward in the 'lights.'

A smirk crossed her lips at his dare. How did he get over here anyway. She looked up at him, a giggle spilling from her lips. "Watch the lights!" She told him as she stood up. She would rather he didn't sit on her. She broke out in a dance, arms out and she jumped between the tombstones. "Dancing in the lights!" She sang loudly, very loudly and just slightly off key. "Come and dance!"

[Pete Wentz]

[/i] misunderstood... Ian Curtis... Kurt Cobain... Brodie was just a fucked up kid, dropped into the world of music. She wasn't a musician, she was a rockstar, there was a fine line between the two. Pete was willing to bet she didn't even get to write her own bass lines anymore, he was surprised if she even really played the bass onstage. It was what Pete had always told himself never to become, to draw the line between the rockstar and the musician. You couldn't be both, you could only be one. Sitting on their tour bus playing board games and drinking coffee, Pete was pretty intent on calling himself and his and 'musicians', Patrick especially. Brodie's band were probably musicians too, but she was a rockstar. A drugged up, boozy rockstar who screwed up her band by her own accord. She had a reputation, just like everyone else in the music scene. Pete understood having to live up to what the media portrayed you as, but he also knew full well about breaking free from all that and doing things for yourself. If he wanted to sit in a nightclub and drink water while drunken fools danced around him then so be it, and the media could say that he wasn't straight edge anymore, but that wasn't true. Pete was not stumbling out of clubs completely drunk, and he didn't ever want to either. If his friends did then that was fine, that was how they planned on living their life. It didn't change the fact that Pete would always see himself as that kid from Chicago that played soccer. He wasn't a rockstar, he didn't want to be a rockstar, because from everything he'd seen - and what he was seeing now - it was a path that didn't lead to making good music - it lead to death.
"I can't dance," Pete said with a sad smile as he watched her. It was terrible, to see someone dying like this. She didn't even see it herself, she seemed to drink only because there was always one person in the band with a sob story. Pete was that person in Fall Out Boy, the media played with his story like a house on fire - depression, pills, lonliness, suicide. It had never been a suicide attempt, it was an attempt to shut himself up. The media just didn't get it, though. It wasn't always depression and lonliness, there were times where Pete was the happiest and most energetic person in the world. But they didn't want to write about that, did they? They wanted the fucked up 'rockstar', when all Pete could ever be was the musician with a few personal problems. There was no tragedy in the story - he wasn't the only one suffering from what he was going through. But seeing Brodie... seeing her alive solely because of drugs made Pete feel oddly happy, although he knew it shouldn't do. Because he was alive because of everything else in the world, he was alive because of friends, and his band and - more importantly - he was alive because of himself. Brodie was on drugs to make herself feel alive, and Pete needed nothing but a good start to the day, although it wasn't as simple as that. Pete's good days were never because of what Brodie's good days were because of. They were in the same boat - media expectations, band getting fucked around - but Brodie was very near to the edge of the boat, walking the plank even. Pete watched her dance and he shut his eyes, looking up at the sky and feeling the sun on his face, smiling sadly.[/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Brodie Dhonchaindh]

I've Got No Good Left In Me.
Don't Even Bother Trying To See.

[/color]

[/b] It had been the name of their first EP. The instructions to Never-land. Back then Brodie had been the core of the band. She had written the lyrics and with the help of Deryck weaved them in to music, in to songs and into art work.

The name had been symbolic of course, the instructions to a place with a better life, a place where she could live worry free. There she wouldn't need to sleep with one eye open constantly. There might even be someone to love her? Like a mum or a dad would...someone who could give her guidance. There she could be a kid forever, she could life worry free and enjoy the childhood she really should have had. Instead of being shunted from foster home to care center to foster home and back again because no one could cope with her problems. They really were naive foster parents. Brodie had never been lucky enough to end up with one of the few who did understand. She had watched the rest of the kids being snapped up, people came and picked them out like pets and every time she sat at the window in the hallway and watched them drive away wishing it was her. She had always been left behind, like a little dog in the rain.

And here she was being left behind again, slowly but surly being left behind by the only people she had a connection with. They could see it. She could see it. She was destroying herself so no one else could. She did it so they could hate her, if she made them hate her it hurt less. Stupid logic from the mind of a drugged up nineteen year old. She stopped dancing and fell on to the grass, on her back giggling. "You think if I went to Never-land now? I would turn in to a kid? Or would I just be nineteen forever?"[/color][/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete said. "Although, you might go back to being the perfect age... the age where everything felt alright in your life and you were totally carefree... it's magic, after all," Pete said. "Anything can happen if you believe it," he said. That was somewhat true, people could regress mentally, although not so much physically. There had been cases of people regressing after truamatic experiences or what not. Pete would go back to being fifteen or so, just playing music for the fun of it and having the time of his life doing anything he wanted. He'd love to go to Neverland and be free.
"They wouldn't let you into Neverland though," Pete said. "You might get all the Lost Boys high," he joked. He stood up off the tombstone and grabbed Brodie's hands, swinging her around with him, he stumbled over and fell down into the grass. "Could you imagine having nothing to worry about but how you're going to spend the next day? Nothing to worry about but how you're going to have fun?" Pete asked, staring up at the sky again, surprisingly not hurt from the fall. "I believe in Neverland," Pete told her, shutting his eyes and feeling the cool breeze of the wind and the warmth of the sun on his face. He was acting a lot like Brodie had done now, only he didn't need the drugs or the alcohol to do so. Pete could act drunk without actually being drunk at all. For a second Pete forgot about all his cares and felt like he had done years before. [/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Brodie Dhonchaindh]

I Waste My Life When Your Not There.
I Drink Until I Don't Care.
I Live My Life Between The Cracks.
I Lose And I Know Always Will.

[/i]

She never got her hopes up again.

She never tried again.

Brodie learned her lesson the first time.

She jumped up, she couldn't lye there anymore and think about it. She had to get up, take her mind of it, take her head away from it. She walked amount the tombstones. And picked up the blunt knife Pete had thrown in the grass and picked an empty tombstone. She began carving the name of her band in the stone. '2nd*R.' She smiled when she looked at it. Began carving the names of her band below it, the drummer 'Ben' the guitarist Deryck or 'D' For short. Guitarist and singer Mike or 'Micky' for short and once she was finished she dumped the knife on the ground and started jumping around.

Leaving one name missing on the stone. [/color][/size][/ul][/blockquote]

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete whispered, looking at what she'd written, and then the names underneath it. Brodie had seemingly purposely left off her own name, and Pete looked around at her as she danced around. She knew. Pete knew. They all knew. It was all downhill from here right now. Pete reached in the grass for the knife, and looked at the tombstone, and for a second he considered doing what she hadn't... But then he dropped the knife and stood up, brushing his hands off and pulling his Sidekick out of his pocket. It was getting late now - well, not exactly, but he was supposed to have met his band half an hour ago. Pete was late. Surprise?
"Brodie, we have to go," Pete said, looking up at the dancing girl. What were the chances that she would come anyway? To drag her away from her momentary 'Neverland' was cruel. But in the same breath, Pete had responsibilities, even if he did have bad punctuality. "Well, I have to go, and I don't want to like leave you here on your own," Pete reiterated.[/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[Brodie Dhonchaindh]

I Broke Your Heart And You Broke Mine.
I'm Hoping That Before I Die.
I'll Make It Up. I'll Hold My Due.

[/b] She cried before running off again. She wasn't sure why she was running. She did it all the time anyway. She enjoyed it. The wind in her hair, the sun was out. It was a perfect day. Though how long it lasted she didn't know, when she came down from what ever she had taken the colours would become sold again, too harsh and unbearable. Vicious cycles lead to vicious falls.
[/color][/blockquote][/size][/ul]