➽ Track Twenty-eight (Pete's POV).

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Track Twenty-eight (Pete’s POV): My smile’s an open wound without you and my hands are tied to pages inked to bring you back.

(June 21st, 2008)

“I have good news for you, boys,” James McCormick announced, beaming at all four of us. We were inside the studio – Joe and Andy were playing chess, Patrick was listening to his favourite songs on his repertoire while I was trying to read a book which was recommended to me by Donnie (Hey, band members sometimes read too!) – when our manager had stepped inside. We glanced at each other before looking back at our manager, who was motioning us to gather around and sit with him on the meeting table. Hesitantly, I followed his order after realizing that the other members of the band had done what he was telling us to do.

“What is it about?” Joe asked him, propping his chin on his palm.

“You really are going to love this,” our manager mused, smiling to himself. I had the sudden urge to roll my eyes away from him, but I had to pretend that I was eager to listen to every word he was telling us—nobody wanted to deal with a grumpy James. “I just received an e-mail from the director of a movie. He said that one of the actors had suggested some of your songs to be used for the movie, and somehow, the said director and the rest of their crew managed to listen to ‘I Don’t Care’.”

“But that song isn’t even released yet,” Patrick stated, frowning a little.

“Well, I don’t know how they were able to listen to that song, but he was asking me if they could use the song for the end credits of the movie,” James shrugged, but there was a sudden glint in his eyes, as if he knew something that we didn’t, and that smug smirk was really bothering me. I couldn’t even understand why. “He said that the song is really fitting for it.”

“So, what’s the movie about?” Andy inquired, looking over at James. “I mean, as the song title implies, it’s about not caring about other people’s opinions, about being closed-minded and happy-go-lucky, about being free from something.”

“Make a wild guess,” the older man winked at him, and I just wanted to hit him so bad. He was teasing all of us. It seemed as if he was dangling something right in front of our faces, but we couldn’t see it properly because it was too close for comfort. “But, that’s not all,” he made a dramatic pause, just letting that statement hang on the air for a few long seconds. I held my breath. “The director also asked me to inform you that he wanted you to do a cameo role for the movie.”

Oh shit. Not this again. I just really wanted to put my fist through a wall.

No way in hell was I gonna be a part of a TV show/movie again.

“Come on, James,” Joe whined, shaking his head. “You do know that we’re all pretty shitty in acting—save for Patrick, of course”—the curly-haired guitarist looked over at my best friend, who was staring back at him as if he had gotten crazy already—“and you know that that’s not our forte.”

“I think what Joe is trying to say is that we’re refusing the cameo role,” Patrick told James, looking warily at the guitarist who was sitting next to me, before focussing at our manager. “Sure, they can use the song for the movie, but we’re so busy for the album and we’re about to do the recording anyway—”

“The director just wanted you to act as if the tour bus had suddenly started to malfunction in the middle of nowhere, and then you got into this Amish community and you asked for their help to work on the bus so that you could continue going to your shows, and in return, you’ll do a show for all of them,” James said, still smiling that ridiculous smile that I really wanted to wipe off from his face. Patrick seemed quite surprised that he had cut him off before he could even finish his sentence. “In the movie, you’re still gonna be Fall Out Boy. You wouldn’t do much acting. Just be yourselves.”

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