Your Melody Sounds As Sweet As the First Time It Was Sung

Static Failure.

It was kind of a blur how fast it happened, and it still seems more like a dream to me.

You see, when the four of us started our little band, we weren’t really expecting much. Sure, rockstar dreams lived in our hearts, but we kind of wanted to be different. We wanted an intimate fan base, people that would support us at small local shows. We wanted to challenge ourselves to extend that fan base beyond Chicago, maybe travel to other cities every now and then.

That’s what it was at first. It was good.

Then we got offered a contract.

And, honestly, how could we say no to that?

Pete swears that he had nothing to do with it, but I find it difficult to believe him. It’s kind of coincidental, don’t you think, that a friend of mine just happens to be a big-time record label owner who wanted to sign us but didn’t because I wouldn’t let him and then two months later we’re offered a contract with another major label?

Yeah, somehow that’s kind of hard to swallow.

I guess I better explain how Pete found out. I didn’t want him to. I didn’t really want him to have anything to do with our band, simply because he was successful in the same business and, like I think I’ve said before, I’d feel like we cheated our way to the top. But he found out. Pete has connections, and he finds out everything.

Okay, so maybe you all saw this coming, but it was incredibly surprising for me.

It went a little something like this;

“I can’t wait for you to meet him, Charlie!” William grinned excitedly, pulling my hand so that we didn’t get separated in the busy city streets. I smiled at his enthusiasm.

“I can’t wait to meet him either, Bill.”

“No, really, and he really wants to meet you too. I told him about Static Failure and he said he was really interested to hear you guys.”

“Really?” I asked, biting down on my bottom lip. “Well I don’t know. Let’s not talk about that tonight. Tonight is your night. I can’t believe you’ve finished your second album!”

“Me neither,” he beamed, trying to hide it from me so as not to seem boastful. “There was definitely a rough patch in the process, but according to the guys when I got you I stopped being so pissy and they liked me again.”

I laughed a little, trying to cover up my blush by leaning up to peck his cheek.

“I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

He grinned down at our entwined hands, looking up at me shyly before turning back around and bringing me into a casual-looking pub. He scanned the area as easily as a giraffe would have, eyes brightening at someone I wasn’t tall enough to see. I followed him obediently, letting him drop my hand so that he could wave at the person I couldn’t see.

The first people I did see, peeking out from behind William, were Butcher and his girlfriend, his arm slung casually over her shoulders as they sat close together in the booth. They both grinned at me a little before returning to their self-set task of mixing the perfect alcoholic beverage with their many varieties of experimental liquor decorating the tabletop. I smiled back at them and Sisky, who had now abandoned his afro in favor of a rather strange, messy, tangled mop flopping over the front of his head resembling some sort of small furry creature. It could probably even make old Frank Iero jealous; he’s had some pretty insane hairstyles since the young boy I used to know.

But meeting the sight of these people was expected.

What wasn’t expected was the man that William had been so desperate for me to meet.

“Charlie, this is our boss. This is Pete Wentz.”

I nearly choked on air.

“P-Pete?”

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped; he seemed equally as stunned to see me.

“Charlie?”

William looked between us in confusion. In everything I presumed he’d said about me, I guess he must have left out the tiny insignificant detail of my name.

“Holy crap, Char!” he said loudly, face morphing from shock to a wide grin. “This is insane! You’re Beckett’s obsession?”

“She’s called my girlfriend, you dickhead,” William said jokingly, still clearly trying to figure out what was going on.

Pete turned to him.

“And you’re the mysterious boyfriend Charlotte refused to introduce me to?”

“How do you two…” William began.

“Dude,” Pete cut him off halfway through his question. “I’ve known Chardonnay almost as long as I’ve known you, Billvy,” he said, still smiling in amusement. “She used to…”

Unknowing of what was going to come out of his mouth next, I shot him a glare. We don’t talk about the old days. Ever. He seemed to be sober enough to take in the glare, stopping mid-sentence.

The rest of that night involved getting very drunk and participating in very embarrassing bets and losing. Let’s leave it at that. The point is, that’s how Pete found out about Static Failure. About two months later we were approached after one of our more successful bar sets (turns out my fake I.D was more credible than I expected it to be). That was the unexpected, magic, horrible (I’ll let you choose your own adjectives later) night we were signed.

A few more months down the track, and we were becoming less of a small band, but not quite a big one yet. We recorded a demo and worked on more tracks for what we hoped would become a record. William and the rest of The Academy Is… guys were really supportive, and unfortunately so was Pete. His millions of connections would always be a complication.

All in all, it was all good. I was further than I ever dreamed of; soon to make a career out of music. Boy, if Dad could see me now… This was everything I’d ever dared to dream.Well, almost everything.

Everything was going pretty much perfectly.

Until William broke up with me.

That’s the part where my problems catch up to me.