The Tick Tock of the Clock

Pete closed the laptop and hour later and stood stretching his eyes moving over to me. Sighing he wandered over lifting me up and sitting me on his hips. Adjusting my shoulders I sighed against the bandana.

“I know you hate me.” He stated, his tone was rather serious. “But, I had to get you back at least once, and yes I know.” I muttered licking his lips. “Letting you hang for an hour was extremely mean, but you did do some nasty things recently to me that needed to be punished for.” He sighed as I looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Yes, I know they aren’t as horrible as some things that have happened, but it also has been a really long time since I’ve gotten you back.” He stated pointing at me as I rolled my eyes and bobbed my head lightly. “Now, will you hurt me if I let you down, because if you’re going to, I’ll get a chair so you don’t have to hang.” He muttered, quickly I locked my legs around his legs. Reaching up he pulled the bandana down and I sucked in something close to fresh air.

“You need to wash that thing, it smells all sorts of funny.” Rolling his eyes at me as he reached up untying my hands; they dropped like lead weights the second they were free. “Seriously, I wanna kill you…” I sighed leaning my head against him, unable to move my arms or anything attached to my upper torso at the moment. “But I can’t lift my arms.” I whined into his shoulder, his shirt and body muffling my words as he laughed.

“Have I accidently killed you? Because that’d mean I’d have to run my own life and I don’t think I can handle that.” He stated walking into the room we were sharing and threw me on the bed. I bounced a bit as I glared at him. “I love you too.” He smiled pulling the covers over me.

“If I wasn’t so tired and could move the any part of my upper body I’d bitch slap you.” I growled at him as I glared at him. Laughing he leaned over me pressing his forehead to mine.

“Like the little bitch I am?” he asked I nodded.

“Damn straight.” I hissed at him. Laughing he patted my head with a sigh.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be in later. I think Jack’s going to sleep with Pat’s guitar. He has a new fascination with it.” He mused as he left closing the door, only leaving a crack in it. Closing my eyes I let the feeling of sleep wash over me. The heavy feeling over my body, the blackness hovering in my mind and behind my closed lids; it was rather relaxing. Drawing in a deep breath I coughed choking.

“Pete!” I gasped the smell more deafening with it around my neck and having tasted fresh, clean air. Instantly Pete slid into the room like he was playing baseball. “The bandana?” I whined. Laughing he removed it in one swift movement and draped it over his head. “Thank you.” I muttered he nodded wandering back towards the door. “And please wash it, it smell horrid.” I stated rolling his head he waved it around a few times.

“It smells fine.” He muttered right before he held it to his nose and inhaled. “Oh god.” He sputtered beating on his chest. “What the hell.” He coughed hunching over as the ragged exhale and sputter of coughs knocked the wind out of him. “Dude…” He gasped to himself as he left the room, the door only left a crack open once again.

Sleep didn’t take long to take hold of me as I laid there listening to the sounds of the guys, the chorus of “Smell this!” coming out of Pete often followed by loud chest racking, lung bursting coughs and questioning of what he did to the poor bandana before hand. I wasn’t sure how he could sat “Smell this!” so many times and get someone in the room to smell it, if not smell it again after already smelling it once; men amaze and baffle me, they really do.

Sitting up I looked at Pete laying next to me, Jack tucked into his side, arm around him. Jack’s blanket draped over apart of Pete’s bare chest as the blankets on the bed incased them both for the most part.

Smiling I rolled my shoulders as they burned. It bother me a bit that Pete could easily hang me from the stairs in a random hotel in California, but it also made me want to applaud him for have the gall to do it.

With something part groan and part moan I got out of bed, my legs felt like jello and smelt something like Pete’s nasty bandana and old sweat and dirt. Grabbing some cloths out the door I hauled my way to the bathroom and started the shower. Half way through it I could hear and annoying beeping coming from my phone on the back of the toilet as it tried to get my attention. Sighing I ran my hand across a towel on the towel rack before reaching out and grabbing it.

“Hello?” I asked leaning out the shower curtain as I pushed my wet hair out of my face and away from the device that held so much meaning in my life.

“Isabella Phight?” My throat closed as my mind reeled to merely several days ago when I got a call starting out the same exact way, only a different voice. Swallowing the lump in my throat I took in a deep breath.

“Yes?” I asked a bit unsure if I wanted to know who was calling me, or if it was a good thing or not.

“The woman married to Pete Wentz?” I blinked several times pulling the phone away from my head looking at the private number before placing it back against my head.

“I think you have the wrong number. I’m not married to Pete.” I sighed into the phone closing my eyes as a loud banging came from the other side of the door. “Hold on.” I called a bit annoyed.

“but you know him, and have child with him yes?” My brain told me to hang up, but at the same time my better judgment told me if I did they would take that as a yes.

“No, I don’t have a child with Pete.” I groaned hearing a bang. Pulling the phone away I looked at the time and sighed. “You’ll have to wait Andy I’m in the shower.” I stated, it was on of the tricks I’d learned on tour. Andy as a strict bathroom time in the morning; he never misses it. “But I do know him, I’m his assistant.” I stated. “Goodbye.” I muttered hanging up on them.

“Come on Ella!” Andy yelled through the door. Rolling my eyes I ignored him.

“There’s a bathroom up stairs.” I stated running shampoo through my hair as the cold water rushed over my body relaxing my muscles.

“No there’s not.” He sighed. “If there was I wouldn’t be here right now…” I herd him wine. Groaning I turned the shower off, shampoo still in my hair as I wrapped a towel around my body and crossed the bathroom throwing the door open with a glared. Stepping out I waved a hand. “Thank you.” He gasped slamming the door.

“Hurry up.” I shot through the door as I held the towel tight against my body. It was awkward standing in the middle of the living room of the villa in a towel, dripping wet with shampoo in my hair. “Come on Andy!” I gasped tapping my foot. The door swung open seconds later.

“Thank you.” He nodded as I hurried back into the bathroom slamming the door and turning the shower back on getting back in it.

Hurrying through my shower I sighed as I ran through all the thing I had to do today just so the day went smoothly. There was get all the guys up, fed (the hardest task one could try and concur so early in the morning), get all the bags in the car, get the car to the rental department and return it, get all the bags and the guys on a one of those buses that goes between the car rental and the air port it’s self, get out tickets and the bags not going on the plain with us checked in, get through security, get to the terminal, and last finally get them on the plain and hope to god they sleep most the way.

Stepping out of the shower I wrapped the towel around my self after drying off I pulled my hair up in a clip. Stretching I sighed lifting my arms over my head and grabbed my underwear.

“Coming in.” Hugging my towel tightly to my body I watched as the door swung open and Pete walked in grabbed my cloths and pushed me out the door closing and locking the door. Turning I stared at the door, my mouth hanging open at the fact that he’d just pushed me out of the bathroom.

“You couldn’t wait ten or twenty seconds for me to get dressed?” I asked the door knowing I wouldn’t get an answer so early in the morning. It’s amazing he’d announced he was coming in. He hardly makes any nose other than grunts and simple eff you’s so early in the morning.

“He did wait… which is weird.” Andy muttered sipping on a cup of coffee. My eyes darted around the room for a clock. “It’s been twenty minutes since I disturbed your peaceful shower.” He added sitting on the couch and lifting the remote.

“Shouldn’t you be passed out cold then, that’s normally what happens.” I stated not moving from my spot as I watched the back of his head with narrowed confused eyes.

“Yeah be we gotta be up in like… an hour.” He sighed. “So I figured I’d get coffee and hopefully wake up then pass out on the plane.” He turned looking at me. “We are going from here straight to O’Hare, right?” He asked. I nodded slowly. “Okay good.” He chirped turning back around in his seat, the red on his arms was already fading. He never stayed sunburned long his skin was too fair for that; it always freaked the guys out through. One day he’d be bright red the next he’d be a subtle pink shade, then later white again.

The door swung open and Pete walked out and right back into the room we were staying in rolling my eyes I quickly jumped back into the bathroom and got dressed grabbing my phone as I went looking at it. I pulled up the number of the last person to called me and went to bug Peter.

Sitting on his chest I crossed my legs on his chest as he looked up at me with half opened eyes. Holding my phone in his face he took it looking at the number.

“So?” He yawned placing his hand, the one with my phone in it, over his mouth fogging up the screen of my phone.

“Do you know it?” I asked lightly. Shaking his head I took it from him. “You’re useful.” I scoffed getting off him. “And get up.” I stated

“Why do you wanna know?” He asked softly sitting up with another yawn, both hands slapping over his mouth this time.

“Because they called me and asked if I was Isabella Phight, wife of Pete Wentz.” He raised a brow at me. “Yeah.” I stated as he groaned.

“People drive me crazy.” He groaned pulling at his face as I rolled my eyes walking out of the room. He had no idea how people could annoy him all day long if they didn’t first go through me and get a sort of screen to make sure they weren’t crazies going to kidnap him or kill him.

“Andy.” I muttered he turned looking at me. “You get Joe.” I muttered heading up the stairs listening to him grumble about how he had to wake Joe last time. Pushing the door to Pat’s room open I walked over to him I crossed my arms over my chest with a frown. What was the best way to wake him… or better yet attempt wake him. “Patrick.” I stated narrowing my brows in through. “If you don’t get up, I’ll call you’re mother and tell her what happened to her flowers and what really happened to Mr. Wittles.” I stated loudly watching him for a reaction. I got nothing on the two things that made him do what ever I wanted him to do when he was awake.

“I get Pat.” Andy muttered stepping on the bed glaring at me with a pout. Rolling my eyes I wandered down stairs and into Joe’s room. Standing over him I sighed and leaned down to him.

“Joe get up before I ruin everything Star Wars you own.” I pulled back waiting for him to spring up. I frowned at the fact that I didn’t get a reaction from him, not even a mumble or groan. Huffing I began shaking him, after several minutes I sent Pete into wake him and gave up. “I’m going to get a bag trolley.” I stated leaving the room getting to ‘okays.’

As I entered the lobby I noticed a swarm of people with cameras, they weren’t suppose to be let in till after we left. Stupid hotel. Grabbing the golden thing that would save our lives I sighed. It’d be nearly impossible to get both Pat and Joe out of the hotel with out people thinking we’d killed them.

“We need to add to Joe’s DVD idea.” I called as I entered the room getting the camera and turning it on. “Pete.” I muttered looking in the room as him jumping on the bed. “What are you doing?” I asked lightly, he stopped chest heaving, a few beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

“Try to wake Joe.” He stated lightly. “But it’s fucking impossible.” He groaned stepping on the man’s chest. “Star Wars blows; it’s the worst movie series ever made!” Pete yelled pausing for something to happen. “Damn it!” He yelled falling onto Joe who didn’t gen grunt of groan from the sudden impact. Turning off the camera I went up stairs turning on the camera as I stood in the doorway watching Andy slap Pat across the face. “What are you doing?” I asked Andy. Turning he looked at me a bit startled.

“Did you just video tape me bitch slapping him?” He asked I nodded. “Oh… why?” He asked lightly.

“I’m trying to show the world it’s impossible wake both Joe and Pat.” I stated he nodded slapping Pat again, He pulled back as Pat groaned, hands raised. Pat rolled over and began to snore. “Damn it!” He yelled backing up to the wall and running at the bed jumping onto Pat, nothing happened but the two jolted. “I hate this crap, you got a trolley for the bags right?” He asked I nodded. “Good, let’s just wheel him out on it like a dead body.” Andy sighed leaving the room as I filmed Pat still sleeping for a few more seconds.

“That might be a problem.” I sighed he looked at me with a raised brow. “They let the paparazzie in the building.”

“Fuck.” Andy whispered. “I’ll film on out way out.” He stated, nodding.

“I’ll carry Jack and pull the trolley while Pete pushes.”

“What am I pushing?” Pete asked I pointed at the still empty trolley. He shrugged not carrying as he and Andy loaded the bags on it, Andy letting him know what was going on.