Roses and Kisses

(3 Years Later)

A frustrated growl made its way past his lips, the effects of the alcohol still buzzing around in his head. That was one hell of a party. He glared at the offending object that woke him. He glanced at the clock: 1 in the morning. Who the hell was calling him so damn late? He flipped it open and looked at the number. He didn’t recognize it.

‘Must be another damn fan who got ahold of my number.’ He hit the ignore button, closed the phone, and put it back on the nightstand next to him, relishing in the silence that graced his room once more. He buried his head in his pillow and closed his eyes, ready to slip back into unconsciousness before the music blasted out of the small device once more. Groaning, he mulled over the idea of ignoring it again, but a nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him otherwise. He snatched it up once again, near growling into it.

“What do you want? Who the hell is this?”

“Peter?” His soul froze and he held his breath. The voice was shaky, but unmistakable. Impossible.

“Rosella?” He heard a light sob on the other end, and widened his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me, Peter Pan.” Suddenly, he felt himself at war with several different emotions: relief, joy, love, and overwhelmingly anger. He fought to keep the beast down for a few seconds before it took over, the buzz of last night’s fun still rolling around his head.

“Do you know what hell I went through trying to find you, and now you’re calling me?” He heard her breath hitch on the other end, but took little notice to it. He’d been waiting for far too long to stop now. “I waited for you, Rose, I looked everywhere for you. It was like you wiped off of the face of the planet.”

“And now you call me? After Fall Out Boy’s taken off and has done so well? What, you could leave me until I got big and famous?” He laughed coldly. “You should have thought about that before you walked out without even saying goodbye. You really messed me up big time, damn it.”

He heard her shuddering inhale, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply. He ended the call and threw the phone at the wall with a shout of frustration. He jumped out of bed and shuffled down the hall, throwing open the fridge door and grabbing a beer from inside. He tossed himself down on the couch, downing the beer swiftly.

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Pete slowly sat up, his entire body protesting as he glanced around. Why was he in the living room? Closing his eyes, he searched his memory for what happened last night and came out empty. Sighing, he made his way into his bedroom, glancing around until his eyes landed on the crushed phone lying on the floor. He stopped dead in his tracks as the muddled memory of last night flooded his mind.

‘Rose.’ Though he couldn’t remember the exact conversation they had, he remembered the white hot rage he felt and cold dread filled him. He gently picked up the mangled device, willing it to turn on. It didn’t. He quickly threw some clothes on and headed out the door with no care for his appearance. He could fix it later, it didn’t matter anymore.

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He snatched the paper from the man’s hands and quickly scanned the document, quickly landing on the time and date he desired. As soon as his eyes hit the number he wanted, he threw open his new phone and dialed it, his heart racing with anticipation.

‘Please pick up, please pick up..’ He repeated the mantra in his head over and over again, his breathing coming to a halt when he heard her voice.

“Thanks for calling me. Guess I’m not around to pick up the phone, but I’ll try and call you back, especially if you leave a message!” The butterflies fluttered in his stomach at her cheerful voice, sounding worlds different than when she had called him only last night. The tone on the other end sounded, and he found himself not knowing what to say.

“Rosie? It’s Pete. Please call me back, we need to talk. I’m so sorry about the other night. Anyways, please call me back. I love you,” and with that, he hung up the phone.

He muttered a thanks at the man who helped him before hurrying out, the phone never leaving his hand.

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He nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone rang and picked it up instantly, not even bothering to check the number.

“Rose?!”

“Rose? Pete, have you been drinking again?” His hopeful expression dropped.

“Damn it. No, Patrick, I’m not drunk. She called me last night and I screwed up bad.”

“Woah, woah. Calm down man. I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out, but I can see you’re on edge. Want me to come over? You can talk about it, or you can not. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Yeah, man. Whatever. I’ll be here.”

“Kay, I’ll be there in twenty.”

“See ya.”

Click.

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“Whatever, dude!” Pete laughed heartily at his friend, before stopping cold at seeing the phone spring to life on the coffee table. He glanced at Patrick who nodded his head before scrambling to pick it up. He hesitated upon answering it.

“….hello?”

“Hello, Pete.” His heart felt like it stopped for a moment, hearing her sweet voice.

“Rosie, I’m so sorry..” His own voice hitched at the end.

“It’s alright, Peter.”

“I’m serious, Rose. I can never get it right; I never have and I might not ever in my life. I just get so wrapped up so quickly in whatever. I just can’t win.” He paused for a moment, listening to the soothing sound of her breathing in assurance that she was still there before continuing. “I just missed you, you left me incomplete when you walked out that day. I didn’t know where you were. I couldn’t find you, and I was so angry at myself for letting you slip through my fingers. I was angry at you for leaving, I didn’t stop to think about why you left or how it affected you. I was just angry. I’ve got issues, man. I was so determined to get you back. I never stopped thinking about you. You’re like the antidote that got me by, Rosella, so strong. Like a drug that gets me high. When you left, I just fell to pieces.”

“What I’m really trying to say is that I’m sorry for the way I am, and the way I always have been. My temper gets the better of me. I never meant to be so cold to you last night, Rosie. I never meant to be so cold.” He paused getting a handle on his emotions and his breathing.

“Peter, it’s okay. I get it. I’m sorry too, for everything. You’ve been my best friend forever, and you didn’t deserve what I left you with. I’m sorry for the way I am, always shrouded in secrecy. I’m a broken girl, Pete, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so cold to you when I left.” His heart broke as her voice cracked, but listened intently as she continued. They had a long way to go before either of them would be anywhere near normal, but it was a start as long as she didn’t leave him in the dark again.

“You deserve so much more than the lies, and the dark I’ve kept you in. I was hoping that this would be the right thing to do, Pete. I don’t want to tell you everything over the phone; you deserve better than that, but I was hoping that maybe in a different light you’d be able to see me stand on my own for once. It all falls apart though; it always falls apart. I just can’t see anymore, Pete.”

“My own future was ripped from me, and when everything hit the fan I was so lost without you. You are my rock. The one who helps me out when my world falls apart, and I need you. Not to copy your own words, but you are the master lyricist: You were always the antidote that got me through the hard times, Pete. My own drug. I’m just so sorry, Pete. I’m just so broken. You have to believe me: I never meant to be so cold.”

His heart shattered as he heard the sobs racking her own body now. How he wished he was with her, holding her tightly and never letting her go. He put his hand over his mouth, trying to calm his own rocky emotions. He eased up the tiniest bit, feeling Patrick’s steady hand on his shoulder, and rested his own sweaty palm over it. For now, he would have to keep him anchored until he could get to her. There was a moment of silence on the line as both of them weighed the words to say, when she continued again.

“I never really wanted you to see the screwed up side of me that I keep locked up so deeply. It always seems to get to me. I never really wanted to go, Pete. There were so many things you should have known; that you should know now. I guess all I need is….” She trailed off, seemingly trying to compose herself. “I just needed to say I’m sorry for who I am, Pete. I hope there’s something salvageable in the friendship we have. I don’t want to live without you again. I’m not just calling because you’ve made it big; if anything, it was my main hesitation in calling you. Please forgive me, Pete.” She couldn’t continue anymore as the tears continued, and deep down he was glad. If he had heard that broken voice anymore, he would have broken himself and right now, he needed to be her strength.

“Rose, I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m so sorry. You don’t need to worry about me or the band. Just tell me where you are, and...” he hesitated, glancing back into his friend and band-mate’s eyes, seeing nothing but compassion and understanding there. Patrick nodded his head. “…and I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Please, Rosie. Let me be there for you. I want to help you pick up the pieces again. I love you.” He heard her breath hitch once more and felt his resolve strengthen. After a moment’s pause, his eyes widened as she replied. He jotted down the name she gave him and in a moment jumped up, hurrying around to gather his things up.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Rose. Call me if you need anything. I love you!”

“…Thank you, Peter. Don’t rush, I’m not going anywhere. Thank you.”

Click.