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

Chapter Six: Driving Me Crazy

|| Cole Wentz || First Person's PoV ||

"Yeah, you built up a world of magic because your real life is tragic. Yeah, you built up a world of magic!" Hayley Williams, the now blue haired bundle of joy bounces across the stage, her microphone gripped tightly in hand as she sings Brick By Boring Brick. I lean against one of the extra amps and bite my lower lip, watching as the crew runs around, trying to get ready for Panic! at the Disco's set.

This isn't new to me. This is more like a routine that I've found myself set in. One that I simply cannot break.

Given that one of the main points that allowed Pete to bring me on tour was that I'd help out, I found myself forced to work the merch stalls. It wasn't too bad. I mean, some of the fans are cool, but when they come up to you and start screaming in your face, I get pissed.

I think we've all established that I can be rude when I want to. I mean, take Elisa Yao as an example. She makes me want to rip my own hair out and crawl into a hole, because God, she is so annoying.

I can't even begin to describe how I felt when she practically dragged me away from Spencer and Dallon just to demand that I stay away from MY friend. I mean, why the hell should she care that Patrick and I are friends? Why should it concern her? It's not like he loves me, and it's not like I love him. It's a platonic friendship, of course. That's all it is, all it should be, and all it will be. Just freaking friends.

Right?

But then of course, she begins to go ahead and threaten to ruin my life like the little ten year old she is. I mean, we're not in middle school for God's sake! Does she have to act like she's some kind of child?

And then breakfast. Don't get me even started about breakfast. I can't have one private conversation with my brother Pete without her having to stick her stupid tan nose into my business. Why does she even give a shit about what we talk about? Is she so high strung on her horse that she thinks that anyone and everybody cares about her enough to talk shit behind her back?

So that's why I was practically seething with anger when I found out that she would be accompanying us for the next four weeks. I think I rather dig the hole and just die before I have to sleep in the same place as her.

I rake a hand through my dyed hair and look down, studying my fidgeting fingers and the skin my shorts reveal. I can feel the coolness of the unused amp sink into my bones, freezing my thighs. I feel an itch in my wrists where Patrick rewrapped the gauze on them for me.

God, my life sucks.

"Cole!" I hear someone shout. I turn my head and see Patrick jogging over to where I sit. Speak of the guy who brought the devil on tour.

"What?" I say, narrowing my eyes at him. I was pissed, definitely. Especially because after Elisa started shit with me, he just held her in his arms and acted like she was so innocent. Like she's a fucking deer in a world of raging hyenas.

"Woah, what's wrong?" He asks me, holding his hands up in surrender. I roll my eyes and push myself up to my feet, hearing Paramore jump into Still Into You.

"Everything?" I say, twisting my body away from him. I begin to start walking off, watching as my legs take each step slowly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Patrick asks, his voice filled with concern. Maybe false concern if it was anyone else but Patrick. But it is Patrick, and he's worried for reasons I don't know of. I hear the sound of his sneakers hitting the floor as he follows after me quickly. I roll my eyes and turn my head to him.

"Why don't you go talk to Elisa, huh?" I manage a weak smile, wanting to spit the second her name forms on my tongue. My mouth feels like cotton by just saying that to Patrick because I bet I sound jealous and I'm anything but that.