Breathe Me Back To Life •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Two: Funny How It Rained All Day

Hey guys! Exams and final marks aside, my writing and updating should increase. So, here's your second chapter! And I kinda like the new update for the Create tab on the iPhone app. haha

It's been a week. One whole long seven days since I was practically forced to step foot onto this tour bus.

And I've succeeded in not killing anyone. Yet.

Most people would jump at the chance of touring with Fall Out Boy. Sure, they're extremely talented. Sure, they're tons of fun. Sure, they have amazing personalities. But that's nothing new to me, especially since Pete Wentz is my brother.

And Pete Wentz annoys the hell out of me.

Yes, I don't necessarily hate him. But I don't worship the ground he walks on either because he's my brother. And brother's are fucking annoying a good eighty percent of the time.

So that's why making it through a week with these guys is an achievement. How sad is that? Yeah, I haven't killed my brother and his friends yet. Accomplishment. Big fucking accomplishment.

What makes things worse is not only being stuck on a bus with my brother, but being stuck on the bus with his friends. Joe Trohman had already woken me up at three am just to see if I was alive(first day of tour apparently means drinking half of a Jack Daniels bottle and getting incredibly drunk). And Andy Hurley had came to check on me about four times. Mother Hurley.

And Patrick? He's Patrick. This guy will not stop asking if I'm okay and trying to start up conversations with me. And that's what makes him adorable. Adorable enough for me to feel almost bad for wanting to punch him in the gut.

I'm not tough. Never was, never will be. I like to make people think- make people believe that I'm strong; that I can do everything on my own. But recently, Derek Skinner has reached into me and pulled out the weak little nineteen year old I am with a crazy grin. The same grin that used to make my heart flutter that now makes my stomach twist. And it shows like the hidden scars beneath my bracelets. The way I barely speak. The way I hide away, how I refuse to be open with anyone.

And they all can tell I'm not in my right mind. They could all tell that the old Colby Wentz isn't present any longer. They can see it in the way I flinch under anyone's touch. How I became less trusting. How the fear is evident in the way I walk.

But I try to mask it. I try to act like I'm fine. But they don't buy it. I always was a horrible actor. And that's why our parents decided I should go on tour with Pete. Because he's Pete Wentz and he can do anything. Yeah, right.

"Hey, Cole," Pete says, walking into the back lounge while I sit and play Mass Effect 2. I nod in his direction, as if acknowledging his presence, and continue playing.

"You know, you can come out and socialize." Pete smiles, jumping on the sofa next to me. I sigh and pause the game, stroking my bare chin.

"Hmm, let me think about it." I say. I pause for a second before speaking. "Nope."

"Come on, Colby." He lets out a laugh, referring to my constant isolation.

"Learned from the best." I poke him, resuming the game.

"Hey, Coooolllleeeee?" He drags out my name, smiling widely. Pete Wentz and his damn Cheshire cat grin.

"Yeeessss?"

"I can FaceTime Bronx and you two can talk." Pete says, tapping my nose. I absolutely love my nephew and Pete's son, Bronx. He's incredibly adorable and the funniest little kid ever.

"I can FaceTime Bronx in here."

"But everyone wants to see him too!"

"Then you guys talk with him out there, and when you're done, give me the phone." I say, smiling at how I got Pete there. He groans before twisting off the chair and standing up.