Rutabaga Scrapped Book

Thanks for the Memories, Pete

           

   Thanks for the Memories, Pete.

Album stress is getting to him again. Patrick stomped around the studio yelling and ripping up lyrics. It was late at night and we were working. Or, we were trying to. I pushed my black hair out of my eyes. Patrick's blue eyes were wild as he ranted about how awful I was. How I play, how I look, how I act, how I hide who I really am. My worst mistake was letting him see who I really am. I stood up from the couch in the studio. "Patrick, get out." He looked at me surprised. "What do you mean, 'get out?'" "Get out. Get out of my studio. Get out of my band. Get out of my life?" His eyes widened. "You know what, Wentz? Fine. Fine! I don't know why I've wasted nine years of my life with this! We always knew it was going to go down in flames that we weren't ever supposed to meet!" He spit the words into my face. I felt a tear streak down my cheek as he grabs his guitar and slams the door behind him. I sit back down on the couch. That one tear has multiplied into many. They now flow freely down my cheeks. I put my face in my hands. I sobbed until my phone rang. I wiped off my face. The caller ID read Ashley. I answered. "Hey, babe." "Pete, where are you? It's 2 am!" I looked at the clock above the recording booth. Yep. 2:15. "Sorry. I've been working late. I'll be home soon." "OK, babe. See you soon." I hung up and stood up. I walked to the bathroom to wash my face and regain composure. I looked in the mirror my chocolate brown eyes were bloodshot from crying. I grabbed my bass and shut the door. The door to my studio. Where my band records. Where most of my life is spent. I got in my car and drove home. I left my bass in the car and just walked in. Ashley was in bed, but I heard a baby crying. "Bronx." I whispered. I ran upstairs to my baby boy. I gently picked him up from his crib and cradled him in my arms. "Sh. It's okay. Daddy's here." "Geez, Pete. Can't you be any quieter? I'm trying to sleep?" I turned to see Ashley standing in the door way. I sighed. "Sorry, babe. It's been a long night for me." "Fine. I'm going back to bed." After I was sure she was out of ear shot, I whispered to Bronx. "Remind me why I married her?" Bronx giggled. We shared a common disliking for Ashley. I may hate her, but I'll stay with her for Bronx. Bronx. My world. My life. My baby. I kissed the sleeping child's forehead and sat down in the rocking chair in his nursery and rocked back and forth. That chair must be good. I fell asleep still holding Bronx. My world.

I woke up the next day with Bronx in my arms crying. "Hey, Bronxy. Don't cry. Sh, sh, sh." I stood up and held him in the crook of my neck. "Where's Mommy? Let's go find Mommy." Ashly. Oh, Ashly. I walked into our bedroom and she lay still asleep. Some mother. I set Bronx down on the bed and I sat down beside him. Bronx crawled over to her. Ashly stirred, only to brush off Bronx. Bronx landed on the bed and started crying. Ashly sighed and sat up. "Oh, I'm sorry, Bronx. Come to Mama." I won't lie. Ashly is a really sucky mom. She held Ashly close to her body. "Pete! Why did you put him here?!" "Ashly, I've been with him since I got home last night. He was crying and you were asleep!" "Yeah, because I need my sleep!" I sighed. "Take Bronx. I'm gonna got get a shower and get ready. I've got to go to work." "Can you take Bronx to work? I have to meet Joe and Andy." "Ugh! Why can't you take him?!" "Fine! I will." "Don't get mad at me! You're his father! You got me pregnant!" She spit the words at me. "You're the slut who got me drunk!" I spit them back. Bronx started to cry. I picked him up and walked out. I got in my car, put Bronx in the backseat in his car seat. I got in the driver's seat. I sighed. Where do I go? Patrick and I aren't talking. I don't know where to go. Joe. Joe Trohman. The one I started Fall Out Boy with. Patrick. The one I ended it with.

I got to Joe's quickly, even though he lives across town. I drove up to his house and parked behind his car. I got Bronx out and went to the door. I knocked. "It's open!" I heard Joe yell. I opened the door and walked to the living room. Joe sat on the couch. When he saw me, he stared. "Pete. What's wrong? You look like hell!" I sighed. "Thanks. Ashly and I are fighting-" "Again! Geez! That lady is crazy!" I scoffed. "You don't know the half of it. Then, Patrick and I are mad at each other and he quit the band." Joe stared, shocked. "H-he quit? Then, is Fall Out Boy over?" I sighed. "I think so." Joe stood up and hugged me. Joe is like a brother to me. All of them are. All, but Patrick. Patrick was more than a brother. More than a friend. I felt tears roll down my cheeks. Joe let me go. "Give me Bronx, and you go shower. You can borrow some of my clothes." I handed Joe Bronx and hugged Joe again. "Joe Trohman, you are a god-send." I let go of him and walked upstairs to the guest room with a bathroom connected to it. I peeled off my clothes and stepped in the shower. Cold water ran down my hot body. I hadn't realized how warm I was until I got in the shower.

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