Criminals.

I remember the day Will and Patrick broke up. Like it was yesterday.
…

March 15th, 2006

It was a warm, relatively peaceful day on tour, somewhat abnormal by comparison to other days. Butcher was whinging constantly to Pete about his hangover. Pete was less than sympathetic; but all that mattered was that he was out of our hair for once.

Sisky was sleeping. Still. I think he’s coming down with some evil virus, so that’s not good. I didn’t wake him just in case of. No one particularly wants to contract some nasty illness halfway through a tour, especially when we’re with Fall Out Boy and Cobra Starship too. It could strike down half of Fueled By Ramen in one go!

Vicky-T had, for some reason, taken up residence on our bus. She was talking to Mike about the technical faults at last nights show. All the lighting had gone haywire for no reason, so we’d sent Jack and Tony to investigate the rigs and all the other shit we didn’t understand…

So there was just me, Vicky and Mike. I was messing with the TV. All that was showing was a rerun of Home Improvement, the movie PS I Love You - which, ironically, is the only movie I cry at, no matter what Carden tells you! - and the Disney Channel. Oh greatest joys.

Clearly my constant channel flicking - buzz! Home Improvement! Buzz! Disney Channel! And so on… - was annoying Vicky, as she thieved the remote from me and pelted it at Mike’s head. He squeaked in shock and ducked just in time as the remote slammed into the wall behind his head.

Silence fell in the bus, save for the irritating squeak that is Demi Whatsername’s singing voice. Outside, through the spectacularly thin walls, Patrick and William could be heard arguing.

Again.

“I’m just sick of it all! I’m sick of you!” William screamed as the bus door flew open and he stalked inside. The three of us on the couch sank down into our seats, trying desperately not to be noticed.

His rather upset looking boyfriend Patrick came running through after him, his strawberry blonde mop a mess.

“Tell me why!” Patrick retorted, now standing directly in front of us.

“I never get to see you unless you’re on stage! We’re on fucking tour together, and yet the only time I see you is when you play a show and then you vanish and I don’t see you again until sound check! Whatever happened to being close?” William shouted back. It felt like we were in a soap opera; what with the screaming, the yelling, the constant bickering… Need I go on?

William towered over Patrick as tears started to hit his cheeks.

“Whatever happened to ‘us’?” Patrick retaliated, pushing his glasses up his nose “I’ll tell you what happened to us. You act like you don’t fucking care anymore, that’s what!

Will recoiled, clearly hurt, but said nothing.

“Well, since you don’t give a shit, let’s see how it goes when we’re not together!” Patrick turned on his heel, tears streaming down his cheeks, and ran from the bus.

Vicky took this as an apt time to leave, and so shuffled onto my lap and slid around the couch arm, following Patrick out of the door.

Silence fell over the bus; if you could ignore the grating screech otherwise know as Tiffany Thornton’s voice, which I think the three of us were anyways.

Then William began to sob.

Really loudly.

Carden and I exchanged glances briefly and then quickly dropped to our knees onto the floor. I crawled over to him and gently placed an arm around his tiny frame. He started crying into my shoulder while Mike whispered - hopefully - words of comfort to him.

Sisky, clearly awoken by the racket, came stumbling from the bunks in just a t shirt and a rather fetching pair of red boxers. He saw William and sighed.

“What’d the bastard do now?”

...

February 17th, 2009.

Carden and I are sat outside the door of William’s apartment. We have been for twenty minutes. We’re on the left hand side, kinda diagonal to the stairs opposite his front door. His head was kind of on my shoulder and his hair was very nearly in my mouth, but I didn’t care. We were here for the good of William’s sanity, not for our own benefit.

Adam was in there now, trying to maintain a normal conversation with William.

Good luck with that.

We’d called Butcher in the hope he’d soften up and come help. He didn’t. Probably off doing something unsavoury to Fall Out Boy or someone…

On the other side of the door, on the floor, was a rather foul looking orangey-yellow liquid, which smelt vile. Hence why I’d made Carden sit closest to it.

The door creaked open and Siska shuffled out. The pair of us looked up, and he sighed and shook his head. Carden nudged me in the side.

“Go work your Australian magic.” He mumbled, sitting up properly. I uncrossed my legs and got up, stumbling to the door, Sisky taking my place on the floor.

It’d been very nearly three whole years since Bill and Patrick split up. And he’s still the same moping old William he had been. Never changed, not once.

He’d just turned twenty-four, less than a week ago in fact. None of us saw his face that day; we didn’t hear his voice, nothing. Nothing.

I opened the door and my eyes widened in shock. The place was a pigsty, clothes and shoes strewn all over the place; a thick coat of dust covering most things; the nasty smell of vomit wafting from somewhere. And in the middle of it all…

William.

He was seated on the sofa, knees hugged close to his chest, rocking back and forth. He obviously didn’t notice me walk in quietly and sit down beside him.

“If only I’d thought about it…” He murmured “Then we wouldn’t be in this mess. We’ve got nothing. We lost all the fans when Fueled by Ramen decided they’d sooner burn our still breathing bodies than talk to us. Hold on, what am I saying?” He paused and looked up, glancing at me.

“I have nothing. You’ve got Mike, and Mike has you. Adam has Elly, and Andy’s got his new best fucking friends. It’s just me that has nothing.”

He looked at me again, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“You and Mike have been together, what, four years now?” He continued. I nodded slowly.

“Me and Patrick barely hit six months…” Tears continued to fall to his cheeks; I placed an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“It’s not your fault the oaf went tattle-tailing to Pete.” I mumbled in reply.

…

Sisky was sat on the couch, William sat in his lap. He was rubbing his friend’s back, ad whispering subtle words of comfort to him.

He was still crying,

Mike and I were pacing around the ‘room’ in a weird oval-like shape, waiting for Butcher to return.

It was then that Peter Wentz came bursting in rather abruptly. Everyone looked towards the door as he sauntered in. Patrick trailed behind him, with Butcher patting his back in condolence.

“Butcher, what are you doing?” I exclaimed, waving my arms wildly, gesturing at William.

“I believe I have the answer.” Pete interjected. Snobby bastard.

“No one asked you.” Sisky murmured, but Pete either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“He’s supporting a friend with a broken heart.” Pete spat, straight at William.

“Well, excuse me!” I retorted “What about William?” I made a move to punch Pete ‘round the face, but Mike caught my wrist on the backswing. He shook his head and mumbled something in disdain.

“We just stopped by to let you know that after this tour, The Academy Is…Finished!” He exclaimed, stalking off, clearly proud of his shit pun.

“What?” Mike exclaimed from behind me, running around me and following Pete.

He returned a few moments later, fists balled up inside the pockets of his jeans.

“He’s not kidding.” He cursed under his breath “As soon as we finish this tour, Fueled By Ramen and Decaydance are dropping us.”

“If I’d have bothered to think about what would happen then we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He murmured, staring at the grubby floor.

“I just told you, you weren’t to know what he’d do.” I repeated quietly.

“But if I’d have thought, then Butcher wouldn’t have quit and we’d still have jobs, and a career and everything…” He carried on, turning to face me, fear blatantly obvious in his eyes.

“Don’t go.” He said quietly, clinging to the front of my shirt in panic. I hugged him lightly; he’s skinnier than ever now, if I hugged him properly I’d be scared I could break him.

“None of us are gonna go anywhere, we’ll be here for you. You okay with that?” I replied reassuringly.

“You have no idea.” He replied, hugging me tight with his skinny arms.

Things can only get better, right?