Prologue
Twilight had fallen over Chicago and the reflection of Lake Michigan was lit up by the city skyline. Pete Wentz watched from a park bench as one by one, the little yellow and white squares appeared on the surface of the water and glittered like stars in the night.
It was a chilly autumn evening, but the park was still crowded with joggers, dog walkers and even a family of four playing soccer on the grass. Pete watched as one of the children kicked a ball straight into his father’s crotch and he went down groaning in pain. But each one of them laughed. Pete chuckled.
By now he had been sitting for a while. Pete pulled out his cell phone and anxiously checked his last message from Patrick Stump. Ever since he had gotten back into law his parents had encouraged him to keep the minimum number of distractions. In fact, he knew they wouldn’t have liked him going on this strange sort of meeting. But yes, he had said to meet him here. So, what was taking him so long?
For a moment, the thought flitted across Pete’s mind that it could all be some sort of joke. Or perhaps Patrick had decided to stand him up for whatever reason. It frightened him that such an idea would even cross his mind, for he wouldn’t have expected such a thing of Patrick a year ago. But the two hadn’t seen each other much since Fall Out Boy had disbanded and as a result, they had grown distant.
Pete couldn’t help but lament this fact. Once upon a time, Patrick had been closer to Pete than anyone else. It was a sort of twin bond that allowed them to implicitly tell what the others were feeling, that allowed them to work so harmoniously together to create music. So, it was strange, Pete thought, to be so out of touch with Patrick. And he hadn’t really noticed it while they’d been apart…
“Pete!”
“Huh?” Pete was stirred out of his thoughts by a familiar voice and he quickly looked up to see Patrick before him, that soft, gentle smile on his face that Pete had always loved. But while it was unmistakably Patrick his friend was unmistakably different as well. He had lost weight, Pete noticed, and his strawberry blonde hair was cut shorter no longer going down to his shoulders. Patrick’s most striking difference by far was his wardrobe, however. Gone were the worn, faded band tees and torn jeans. He now wore a somewhat stylish jacket over a bright red sweater.
At first, it caught Pete off guard, but he quickly shook such feelings off. He was sure he had to look different too in his tie, button-up shirt and khakis. Now that he was back to studying law he was back to dressing the part as well. These were just the consequences of ending a band, of drifting away from the people you used to know.
So, Pete fixed his friend with a smile and a “Hi, Patrick!” and scooted over in the bench to make room for him.
“Hey, Pete,” Patrick said, his eyes alight. “Thanks so much for meeting me here. I… I was worried you… would be too busy.”
“Be too busy for you? Never,” Pete said with a smile, pointedly ignoring the many times in which the two of themhadbeen too busy for each other. “How are you, Patrick?”
“Um, alright,” Patrick said, fidgeting with a loose thread on his sweater. “Um, how’s law school going?”
“Alright,” Pete said, glancing towards the water. “I was almost finished my degree anyway so soon I’ll be graduating and going off to law school.”
Patrick beamed. “So, you got in‽”
Pete smirked. “Are you kidding? Of course, I got in!”
Patrick laughed, a warm delighted sound and for the split second that it lasted, Pete drank it up. “Well, congratulations, Pete. Really. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you,” Pete said softly and then, “So, uh, what are you up to, then?”
Patrick flushed and assumed a bashful smile. “Oh, um, actually,” He glanced away briefly before looking back at Pete, his large, blue eyes shining. “That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. I actually have some news to share.”
“News?” Pete asked, quirking his eyebrows and smiling. “It’s good news, right?”
Patrick laughed and once again, Pete savored the sound. “Well, of course, it is. But um, here, maybe it’s better if I show you…”
Patrick stood, fished around in his pocket and pulled out a small, white strip of card stock. He handed it to Pete.
Soul Echo Records
947-392-3962
For a moment, Pete could only gaze at the words in astonishment. Finally, he looked up to his friend, mouth agape. “Patrick… Patrick is this…”
“A record label… yeah…” Patrick was blushing, looking out at the lake with his arms behind his back. But his blue eyes were simply shining. Even his excitement was soft and gentle. “I… I don’t even know how it happened. It was sort of a happy accident. I just started writing songs and performing at open mics after FOB broke up and one thing led to another and now, I’m here.”
“Oh,” Pete said. “That’s cool, Patrick.” He continued to smile but he felt it wavering slightly. Patrick was a musician,of coursehe was going to keep pursuing music after FOB disbanded. Imagining Patrick doing anything else was like imagining a fish on land. It just didn’t work. But Pete didn’t know he was going to keepmakingmusic. He’d just assumed when they’d broken off that he’d go off to be a teacher or a critic as Patrick had claimed his plans were on those dark, uncertain nights cuddling in the van when they were the only two awake.
Pete supposed he should be happy then, over the moon that his best friend was getting this opportunity. That Patrick was rising above expectations and that his remarkable talent and voice were being acknowledged for the gifts upon humanity that they were.
Why then, couldn’t he muster up the full on, flipping cheerleader routine, jumping up and down for joy sort of excitement? Why did he instead, feel a bit growing in his stomach, or was that just his heart, settling there?
Patrick must have been disappointed with Pete’s muted reaction because he frowned, looking worried. “Is… is that alright, Pete?”
“Alright?” Pete echoed, finally looking up again. Oh, typical Patrick, always the considerate one. Of course, he would ask that this major decision concerning his life was “alright” with Pete. “Yeah, of course it’s fine. It’s your life, Patrick, you’re free to do what you want?”
“Oh, of course. I was just… if you were disappointed, you could tell me…”
“Why would I be disappointed?”
“Er… I’m not sure… I, I don’t know, I was just being silly,” Patrick shook his head.
“So, uh, when do you start recording?” Pete said, trying to change the subject. “Maybe I can visit you in the studio sometime.”
“Oh, I fly out in about three weeks, actually.”
“Fly out?”
“Mhm,” Patrick nodded. “The studio’s in L.A. so uh, it’s a long way from here.”
“L.A.‽ You mean, Los Angeles‽” Patrick nodded. “Patrick, that’s a huge change!”
“Yeah, it is,” Patrick said, scratching his neck and smiling sheepishly. He flushed.
“But Patrick…” Pete said, his brow furrowed. He rested his arm on the bench and gripped it tightly. “That’s so far away. Like, that’s basically the opposite half of the country.”
“It’s no matter, right?” Patrick said. “Surely you can fly over.”
It’s no matter.Pete nearly scoffed but stopped himself. Instead, he sighed. Heavily, and looked down at the sidewalk deep in thought. He pressed his lips together in frustration before looking back up at Patrick with a look while, not entirely a glare, wasn’t at all friendly. “How long has this been going on?”
“Huh?” Patrick asked. He frowned, seemingly caught off guard.
“You heard me. How long have you been talking to managers and record labels and doing stuff like that? How long have you been making music?”
“Um, a few years?” Patrick nervously picked at the collar of his sweater. “Pretty much since Fall Out Boy broke up but, Pete, it wasn’t like I was trying to get scouted, it just sort of happened-”
“Of course, it did.” Pete crossed his arms. “But like, not once did you ever think to tell me about it? Not the management deals, not even your little shows?”
“What?” Patrick’s eyes widened. Then he scowled. “Pete… are you jealous or something?”
Pete actually barked out a laugh. “Why would I be jealous of you? So, what if you’re making a record, or whatever? That’s not a guarantee for success!”
Pete regretted the words almost as soon as they left his mouth, when he saw Patrick’s own fall open, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. If his heart had been in his stomach before now it was down below his feet.
Why had he said that?
Patrick only permitted Pete to see his pain, his betrayal and his fear, for a split second. But the unshed tears were quickly replaced with a nasty scowl. “What would you know about success?” he shot. “You were so sure Fall Out Boy would succeed and look where that’s gotten us now.”
Of course, Patrick hadn’t just taken it lying down. He punched back, that was his style. At least when it came to him and Pete. It was always them in the studio, trading words and blows over lyrics, over the radio in the van, hell, over the last Oreo in the pack. In a twisted way, this was the two of them dancing their usual dance. But back then the words, the blows, hadn’t really mattered. They did now.
Abruptly, Pete stood. “Oh, what, so I’m not good enough for you, now?”
Patrick scoffed. “I never said that.”
“You don’t need to; it’s written all over how you’ve treated me-!”
“HowI’vetreatedyou‽”
“You could’ve told me, Patrick! Just one conversation, just one message, ‘Hey, I’m having a show tonight, Hey, I’ve got this management deal, Hey, I’m changing my life in a big way, and I want you involved!’”
“That’s not fair, Pete, we’ve been busy!” His voice cracked and he sniffled, though for a minute longer he tried to keep his edge. “We’ve all been busy, I didn’t even know if it was going to work or if it was going to fall through, and because of that, I still had to focus on school-”
“You’re not the only one who had a bunch of shit on his plate, Patrick!”
“Oh myGod, Pete, if it mattered so much to you, why didn’t you reach out‽ Why didn’t you say anything‽ Why didn’t you come to my shows‽ How come I had to be the one to bridge the gap and not you if you want it so much‽”
Pete’s shoulders tensed and all the fight left his expression at once. Now, what was he meant to say to that? That the pressures of becoming a lawyer, of following in his family’s footsteps had kept him away not just from Patrick, but from Joe and Andy, from lyric writing and making music? From being himself?
That he had wanted Patrick tosave him?
No. That was unreasonable. That wasn’t fair. But for once, Pete didn’t have a convincing lie he could say either. His charisma was useless in a situation so… personal…
Silence reigned.
Finally, Patrick sighed. “You know, I didn’t even want to tell you about this.” He wiped his eyes. “I had a feeling you would react this way.”
Pete’s eyes widened. “Patrick…?”
“I don’t know what’s going on, Pete…” Patrick said, and it sounded like he was choking up. “But I can’t stay. Fall Out Boy isn’t athinganymore. Alright, it was a nice chapter in our lives, but it’s finished! We’ll never have anything like that ever again and…” He took a shaky breath. “I’ve got to find my own fulfillment. Elsewhere.”
And with that, Patrick turned on his heel and stormed off.
Pete stood and watched him go. For a moment, he imagined calling after him or running up to him and turning him around by the arm, being honest and just saying that all he wanted was tomake musicwith Patrick again. But what good would that do? Patrick was going off on his own. It was too late.
And Pete had given him the final push on that path.
The sun set and the sky grew darker as Pete sat at that accursed bench, head in his hands as he tried to suppress tears. It wasn’t until only the last few stragglers were leaving that Pete finally pulled out his phone and dialed a new number, pointedly ignoring the frantic texts his parents had been sending him.
“Um, Andy…” he said, speaking into the phone with a shaky voice. He swallowed. “Would you mind if, I, um… came over?”
