Boys Like You Are Over-rated, So Save Your Breath (Patrick Stump)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Denise is at a once in a lifetime Fall Out Boy concert, when she gets an amazing opportunity to tour with FOB. On top of that, there may be something with the bands lead singer.

Submitted: April 26, 2010

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Submitted: April 26, 2010



Eighteen-year-old Denise Phillips swayed her hips to the music and waved her hands in the air. She stared longingly at the bands lead singer, Patrick Stump, whose concert she was currently attending.

He is so hot. Oh my gosh. She thought. Her raven hair extended down her back in a cascade of curls. She could feel the perspiration building up on her forehead and on her backside. Singing and dancing really takes it out of you. She thought.

The music blasted through the speakers. The concert wasn't very large. Her little town was lucky to have a famous band come and perform just for them. Over two hundred people were crowded in the abandoned building they were using for the concert. She belted out the words to the next song.

"Where is your boy tonight, I hope he is gentlemen? Maybe he won't find out what I know, you were the last good thing about this part of town."

The bass kicked in and Denise danced around wildly, screaming out the lyrics.

"When I wake up, I’m willing to take my changes on the hope that you hate him more than you notice I wrote this for you. For you, girl."

She took a sip of her warm beer. Spitting it out, she grabbed one that was cold, and continued singing.

"You need him, I could be him. I could be an accident but I’m still trying. That’s more than I could say for him.

Where is your boy tonight, I hope he is a gentlemen? Maybe he won't find out what I know. You were the last good thing about this part of town."

She took another sip of her beer and continued to sing the song.

"Someday I’ll appreciate in value, get off my ass and call you. In the mean time I’ll sport my brand new fashion of waking up with pants off at 4 in the afternoon."

She repeated the chorus four times, and the song ended. She finished off her beer, gulping it down. By her 7 th beer, she was completely wasted. She felt dizzy and nauseous, unable to stand on her own two feet. Unaware of her actions, Denise stumbled over to the stage and climbed the stairs. Receiving looks from the 4 band mates, she grabbed the microphone from Patrick and turned to Pete and said, "Chicago is so Two Years Ago, please Petie, thanks." He smirked, eyeing her up and down. Patrick began to sing.

As did she.

"My heart is on my sleeve, wear it like a bruise or black eye. My badge, my weakness, means that I believe every single lie you've said."

The speed kicked in and Denise tried to keep up. It was the bridge.

"Cause every pane of glass that your pebbles tap negates the pains I went through to avoid you.

And every little pat on the shoulder for attention, fails to mention I still hate you."

The chorus began, Denise's favourite part of the song. She sang along.

"But there's a light on, in Chicago and I know I should be home. And all the colors of the street signs ...

They remind me of the pickup truck out in front of your neighbor's house."

She went on the sing the second verse:

"She took me down and said: 'boys like you are overrated. So save your breath.' loaded words and loaded friends. Loaded guns to our heads."

She repeated the bridge and chorus. Then she went on to sing the third verse, pausing to take a breath. She didn't know how these guys did it.

"You want apologies, girl, you might hold your breath until your breathing stops forever, forever. The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips - I hope they taste of me forever."

She repeated the chorus for the last time, and the song ended. Denise took one last breath and made her way to the stairs to leave the stage. She turned around and said, "Thanks guys. That was awesome."

Denise whipped around when someone grabbed onto her sleeve. It was Patrick.

"Wait -" he said. "That was ... amazing." Denise couldn't believe that Patrick Stump was actually complimenting her. Must be the alcohol. She thought. "What’s your name?" He asked her.

"Uh - Denise. Denise Phillips," she answered.

"Well, Denise Phillips - care to wow us with another song?" Patrick smiled at her.

"Thanks guys," she nodded to the other three boys who were watching with amusement. "But I really should take a break. I'm beat."

"Alright," said Pete. "Later then?"

"Sure," Denise said. She walked off the stage and made her towards the bar. But with a sudden feeling of fatigue, she hunched over and threw up on the dance floor.

The last thing she remembered was Patrick Stump's horrified expression when she passed out on the hard tiled floor.


When she came to, she looked around, and she realized she had no idea where the hell she was. She couldn't even remember what she did last night.

She appeared to be sitting in what looked like an RV of some kind. She was lying on the bottom part of a bunk bed.

What the hell? She thought.

But then he came in.

He - being Patrick Stump.

No frickin way. She stared in awe as he came towards her carrying a glass of water and some Advil. That was when she realized the pounding headache she was currently experiencing.

"You're awake," he said. She continued to stare at him, unaware that he was trying to hand her the Advil. Is he talking to me? She thought with bewilderment. He is! He’s talking to me! Shit.

"Uh - huh ... hmm," she said. She accepted the pills and water. And your next words will be actual words! She told herself.

"You’re welcome," he said. He sat down next to her. "I suppose you don't remember much of last night then, huh?" He asked her. She still needed to register the fact that he was actually there.

He’s still talking to me, right?

"Not at all," she answered. He explained to her what happened and she gasped. "So, I actually got up on stage voluntarily and sang one of your songs?"

He laughed. "Uh huh," she laid her head back on the pillow. "You were wonderful," he said.

"Wonderful?" She sat up. "I was wonderful?"

"Yes," he said.

"That is so unlike me," she whispered to herself.

"Denise -" he began.

"Call me Denny," she told him.

"Alright - Denny - you were so wonderful that ..." He scootched closer to her. "Me and the guys were talking and ... we want you to come on tour with us."

"Are you freaking kidding me? Is this a joke?"

"Uh ... no?"

"Are you serious?"

"Uh ... yeah?"


"Uh ... yeah?"

She punched his shoulder. "Shut up. So you're actually not kidding?"

"I'm actually not."

She screeched and hugged him. "Oh my God, I love you!" She exclaimed.

"We're leaving next week," he said.

"That's so cool! I'm freakishly excited now!"

"Did you just say 'freakishly'?"


"That's freakishly awesome."

Denise laughed and hugged him again. She hugged Patrick Stump.

I am hugging Patrick Stump.


The next week, Denise stood in her bedroom, in her apartment building, looking around the room for something else she might want to pack with her. Patrick stood behind her, chuckling over how frantic she was being.

"Its not a big deal if you forget something. We can just replace anything you forget," said Patrick.

Denise turned to him, "Are you serious?"

"Aren't I always?"

"So, if I forget ... lets say, my laptop ooor ... my ipod ... you would buy me a new one?"

"Of course."

Denise grinned deviously, reaching into her suitcase and pulling out her Mac laptop, and placing it on her bed. "Maybe I'll just forget this then."

"No way," Patrick replied. He grinned, just as deviously as Denise had moments ago. He charged towards her, trying to reach behind her to grab the laptop and put it back in her suitcase.

Denise stood in front of him, blocking his path, and reaching her arm out to make it impossible for him to take the laptop.

He grinned again, when an idea came into his head. He turned his attention away from the laptop, and focused it on Denise. He poked the side of her stomach and she raised her eyebrows.

Then he began to tickle her.

Immediately she fell to the ground, in a fit of giggles. "S-s-t-t-o-ooooop!" She exclaimed. He continued to tickle her and she couldn't stop laughing. She managed to stand up, barely able to stay that way. Trying to get away, she squirmed and wiggled from his grasp. Unaware of what was to come, she took a step backwards, tripping over her laptop that somehow ended up on the floor. Right at that moment, Patrick decided to grab onto her arm.

So, when she fell ...

He fell with her.

Landing on top of Denise, Patrick let out an "oomph."

"Patty, you're squishing me," said Denise.

Patrick propped himself up but stayed on top of her. He glared and said, "Don't call me Patty."

"Why not - patty?"

"It makes me sound like a Hamburger."

Denise laughed and said, "Everyone likes hamburgers ... I like hamburgers ..."

The glare he had on his face could kill.

Or in this case, arouse.

Remembering he was still on top of her, Denise brought her hand to the back of his neck, and twirled his orange hair in her fingers.

Patrick looked her in the eyes, and then kissed her.

Her eyes widened. No frickin way.

Is he kissing me?

He is, isn't he?

Daaaaayum, Patrick is kissing me.

Denise relaxed and kissed back. With her hand still on the back of his neck, she pulled him closer into her.

I am gonna like this tour.

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