Difference Between Real Love and the Love on TV

A few more weeks pass, Masey works and goes to school while Pete focuses most of his energy on writing for the new album. His anxiety is getting worse because he wants this album to be perfect, and he's afraid it's not going to be. Even though it's in its early stages around Thanksgiving, his worries are growing, and Masey is concerned for his well-being.

He wasn't sleeping, he wasn't eating, he was extremely short-tempered. He'd become addicted to his prescriptions. She didn't want to let this happen to him, but every time she intervened he told her he was fine, and that she didn't need to be "So goddamn nosy." Tonight Masey decides she needs to confront Pete about this, because she cares about him and the band. And she doesn't know how much longer Pete will last like this. She needs him to stay alive, for her, and she needs to end this now before it kills him because she loves him.

Because Masey loves fucking Peter Wentz.

"Do you know what it's called yet?" Masey asks Pete one night as they're laying Pete's bed. It's the first week of December now, and Pete's spirits have lifted a little in anticipation of Christmas.

"From Under the Cork Tree," he sighs, rubbing Masey's back. "After that book. You know, the one with the bull."

"Oh, The Story of Ferdinand, right?"

"Yeah. That's what I want to name it, anyway. We'll see what the guys think. But I'm pretty sure they'll let me do whatever I want considering I'm an emotional wreck." Pete laughs nervously.

"We need to talk about that," Masey tells him seriously. She sits up and looks him straight in the eyes, "I don't think you can go like this, Pete."

"What?" Pete blinks at her words in disbelief.

"You can't leave in the state that you're in, Pete. I don't think it's safe, and I don't think it's the best thing for you or the band. I've already spoken to them about it and they're in the process of pushing back the recording process."

Pete's face contorts into some mixture of anger and pain Masey doesn't think she's ever seen from him. "You what?" He growls, pouncing up from the bed. "How could you do this to me, Masey?"

"Pete, I was just--"

"Save it," he yells, his fists clenching in rage. "How could you do this to me? You knew how important this was to me. This is Fall Out Boy's biggest fucking break. YOU TOOK THAT AWAY YOU STONE COLD BITCH."

"Pete, please," Masey pleads, tears pricking her eyes. She's never in their entire friendship made him or seen him this angry. "I'm just trying to help you!"

"WHY? BECAUSE I'M A FUCKING NUTJOB?"

"No, Pete. Because I care about you! I care about your band, I just want you to get the help you need."

"I DON'T NEED ANYONE'S FUCKING HELP. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE," Pete yells, face crimson. He raises his arm, fist still clenched, as if he's about to lay a blow on Masey's arm.

"PETE, STOP IT," she screams, grabbing his arm. She pushes him away, quickly grabbing her things.

"I hope you choke and crash your car," Pete wails as Masey turns around to face him, tears running down her flushed cheeks.

"Fuck you, Pete," she lets out, barely audible. "I was just trying to help you. If you want to be a fucking psychopath leave me the fuck alone." With those final words, Masey turns on her heel and exits, slamming Pete's bedroom door.

Pete plops onto his bed, feeling guilty and defeated. Maybe Masey is right, he rationalizes. She was just trying to help him because she knew how much anxiety he'd been suffering lately. Maybe she was doing it because she loves him like he loves her.

Pete rubs his eyes, hard, choking out a sob. Why was he so fucking stupid? He didn't even deserve Masey anymore. She was better off without him and he was better off dead.

Better off dead.