I'm Not Broken Hearted (Patrick Stump / Fall Out Boy Fanfic)

Prologue

 "I can't do this, Patrick." My voice wavered over the phone as tears streamed down my cheeks. I was sitting in my new college dorm room, alone. In my hand, I nervously fingered the necklace he had given me before he left. It was a simple silver chain, with what used to be his favorite guitar pick hanging from where he'd punched a hole in it himself. He had told me at the time that this way, I'd always have a piece of him with me. Unfortunately, it just wasn't enough.

"Allie," he said, his voice stronger than mine. I knew it was just a front he was putting up. He was as broken as I was, if not more. "Allie, please. I'll go buy a plane ticket right now, if I have to. I'll come home. It's going to be okay –"

"No," I whispered, "Patrick, you stay there. This isn't your fault, okay? I just...I just can't handle this."

"I won't let you go."

"I know. But I'm asking you to. You have a long, amazing career ahead of you. I can't hold you back just because I can't handle being without you when you leave for tour. You deserve better, Patrick."

"What if I don't want better?" He asked, his voice deadpanned now.

"You will," I whispered, wiping another tear from my cheek. I couldn't keep trying to explain myself to him, so against my better judgement, I hung up the phone. Just like that, without one last goodbye, I just hung up. It was over, but he would heal, just as I would. I needed to be away from him. Not because he was hurting me, but because I was hurting him. Nearly every night, I made him feel guilty. Guilty for leaving me alone while he was following his dream. And I couldn't do that to him anymore.

Sniffling, I flipped open my phone again and scrolled through my contacts until I found the name "Pete Wentz." Just as I pressed his name, Patrick's name flashed across my screen. He was trying to call me back. I ignored him, and began typing out a text to Pete.

Go get him.

It was a simple enough text, but Pete knew what it meant. I had discussed it with him before that once I did this, once I ripped Patrick's heart out, he was going to need his best friend. I imagined how it would go as I dropped my phone at the foot of my bed. Patrick would have been sitting in his bunk on the tour bus. Their first tour bus, for their first tour. And this is how it was going to start, with Patrick in tears. Or maybe he would hold it together better than I did. Maybe he would just sit there, blankly staring at the bunk across from his, where Pete would come in and sit down. Or maybe he'd be angry. Maybe he'd take out his anger towards me on Pete. Maybe he'd scream. Maybe he'd just keep calling me. Maybe he would just move on and accept it. Maybe the nine missed calls on my phone when I woke up the next morning would serve as a reminder of what I did, what I gave up. In that moment, I wasn't certain of anything, really.

But one thing I would come to find out, was that he meant what he said to me. He would never, truly, let me go.