WIP Amnesty: Bandom: FOB Alt History not!fic
Ashlee in Pete’s stead in FOB ultimately GSF
Ashlee hated her parents. They dumped her in her aunt’s house so they could help Jessica start her career as a popstar. According to them, LA was no place for someone as… rebellious as Ashlee. She didn’t argue that she had stayed in New York with no problem. Well, Ashlee didn’t see it as a problem. At least her aunt lived in a populated area, and Chicago was Ashlee’s for the taking. Technically, it was a Chicago suburb, but Ashlee could easily figure out where the bus and el stations were. Or, even better, she could find someone with a car who wanted to drive her places.
School was one of the nonnegotiable requirements her parents had. The other was that Ashlee remembered that she was a guest in her aunt’s house and to respect her aunt’s rules.
Ashlee hated her parents.
And then Jessica became a popstar, and Ashlee hated the world.
-
Ashlee kept to herself at school. The last thing she wanted was to be labeled as the girl with a big nose whose sister was a celebrity.
Except someone discovered that she could act, dance, and sing, and Ashlee found herself auditioning for the school musical. She made the lead. It was not the least bit vindicating, but it was nice to be on stage again.
-
She ran into a classmate in an independent music shop. She meant to keep her distance, but he was examining cds right where she wanted to be.
She gave him a quick smile and said, “I’m glad I’m not the only one at school with good taste in music.”
He gave her a wide-eyed startled look.
“Hi,” Ashlee said. She couldn’t remember his name, so she said. “I’m Ashlee.”
“Patrick,” he said.
They spent an hour in a corner of the store discussing music that wasn’t mainstream. Ashlee didn’t want to talk about her sister.
They would have spent longer talking, except the store was closing.
As they parted ways, Patrick asked, “Do you play? A friend of mine is trying to form a band. We need a bass player. And a singer”
Ashlee liked how straightforward he was. Also, it was exactly what her parents didn’t want her to do. “I play guitar and sing. But I’m sure I could learn bass.”
Patrick gave her a speculative look but nodded. “Cool. I’ll let my friend know.”
-
Ashlee met Joe the next afternoon. She demonstrated her ability to sing and play her guitar. Joe nodded in approval, and Patrick handed her a bass.
“I’ll teach you,” he said.
Ashlee supposed that was when they became friends. Patrick sitting behind her, positioning her fingers, Joe smoking a fat roach, smiling happily, declaring that they were going places. Ashlee knew it was just optimism and the pot speaking, but she wanted to believe him. Her parents would be so pissed by that lifestyle.
And then Patrick sang, just humming to himself. Ashlee and Joe looked to each other and then to Patrick.
“You’re the lead,” Ashlee declared. “I’ll back you up one hundred percent, but the world needs your voice.” If she lightly trailed a hand down Patrick’s back, no one called her out.
“We’re going to be famous,” Joe said.
“Except now we’re out a drummer,” Ashlee pointed out.
“I know a guy,” Joe said. “He knows everyone in the scene.”
“Don’t I have a say in this?” Patrick protested weakly.
Ashlee and Joe shook their heads in tandem.
-
They went to concert after concert together. Viewing and critiquing together. They could do better.
Ashlee’s grades were the casualty.
At one concert, they finally met Joe’s guy who knew everyone. His name was Pete Wentz, and everyone in the Chicago scene knew his name. Very few people actually knew him personally. Ashlee was now one of the privileged few. Except Pete seemed to have eyes only for Patrick. Ashlee’s not going to lie: she didn’t approve. She’d become highly protective of Patrick in the past few months. Patrick had turned her into an amazing bassist, and Patrick’s not the most patient of people. But he had this way of becoming completely engrossed in the music, something Ashlee wished she had the attention span for.
“We’re looking for a drummer,” Joe said. “Our drummer has recently become our lead singer.”
Pete leaned back in his chair. “A drummer,” he said speculatively. “I’d need to hear you guys play first. You know, for compatibility.” He stared openly at Patrick’s mouth as he said it. Ashlee had to clamp down another flare of jealousy. She wasn’t going to lie to herself and call it something else.
It was not okay for anyone to objectify Patrick. Patrick was pure innocence, and it was Ashlee’s mission to keep him that way. Not that her own intentions were completely pure.
Pete then turned to Ashlee. His expression didn’t change. Ashlee met his expression with cool indifference, even if she wanted Pete to give her that expression for the rest of her life.
Pete’s face broke into a crooked grin. “However, I can tell you right now that you’re going to need a drummer who’s as pretty as the rest of your band.”
Patrick blushed, but Ashlee didn’t give Pete the pleasure. Maybe she should have. He didn’t seem too douche-y compared to the other guys in the scene.
Joe smiled happily and said honey-sweat, “Aw, honey, I knew you’d only give us the best.”
“I still need to hear you play, sweety,” Pete cooed back. Ashlee had no idea that Joe and Pete were that close.
-
They played for Pete the next night. Patrick drummed but also sang. It wasn’t their best run-through. Except that it didn’t matter, because Pete didn’t show up alone.
The song ended, and Pete and his guest conferred with each other. Ashlee and Joe flanked Patrick as he sat stiffly behind his kit. She and Joe shared a look, and by some unspoken agreement that Ashlee didn’t really understand, they both placed a hand on Patrick’s shoulders. Ashlee left, Joe right. Patrick leaned back into them, sticking to them with sweat. Ashlee didn’t mind the sweat as much as she thought she would. It’s Patrick.
“This is Andy,” Pete finally introduced his friend.
“Hi,” Andy said. He was pretty, Ashlee had to give Pete that. “You guys have a fuckload of potential.”
“Awesome,” Pete said. “This union requires consummation. Who wants pizza?”
-
Andy agreed to practice with them.
Ashlee almost failed every single class that semester. Until her parents found out. Then she had to focus on her grades until the summer.
-
Andy still played with other bands, but with him they were able to play an actual gig.
Patrick was too shy to talk to the crowd. Ashlee took care of that problem.
“This is my friend Patrick!” Ashlee shouted to the crowd as she slung an arm around Patrick’s sweaty neck. She stuck her nose in his ear. “Give him all the love he deserves!”
The crowd roared, and Patrick gave Ashlee a murderous look when she backed up to her place on the stage. She blew him a kiss.
-
Andy stopped playing with other bands.
-
Pete bounced from foot to foot with excitement, but it took him over a minute to tell them his news. A tour. He had scheduled them a tour for the summer. It was just around Illinois and two places in Wisconsin, but it was a tour.
Ashlee wondered when Pete took on the role as their manager. It wasn’t while she was looking. Pete wasn’t as bad as she had originally thought. He definitely knew his way around the industry. He was just a bit… much. Nothing at all like the boys back in Texas. At least not the boys her father let her meet. He reminded her of a boy she danced with in New York. But Pete was most definitely not a dancer.
The four of them crammed into a van with a broken A/C and traveled around the northern Midwest. After one night, the van smelled like boy.
Ashlee’s parents did not agree to that, but this was no longer about Ashlee’s parents. This was about Ashlee succeeded at something she wanted, and she was old enough to sign the papers herself.
-
The next tour - a US tour, they shared a cramped hotel room each hotel night. Most nights, they drove all night and slept in the back in shifts.
On hotel nights, there was usually only one bed. The boys always insisted that she took it. Ashlee always said that was a stupid idea. They rotated.
Until Patrick began sleeping with Andy.
-
Ashlee wasn’t sure how she noticed it. Subtle little clues. Patrick and Andy never had sex anywhere near Ashlee and Joe. At least she doesn’t think they do anything near Joe. They seemed softer around each other, and Andy being soft was something a bit noticeable. There was something extra in the beat while they performed. Something live.
Ashlee wanted to be jealous, but she wasn’t. She didn’t know why. She had been ready to claw Pete’s eyes out, but she’s surprisingly okay with Patrick and Andy. Not as okay as she could have been.
By an unspoken agreement, Joe and Ashlee let Andy and Patrick take the bed together.
It should have been awkward. It should have ended the band right then. Ashlee wasn’t sure why it didn’t. Why it wasn’t awkward.
They let it be, and it worked.
-
Then they’re signed to Island. It was amazing. This was what Ashlee wanted. She proved that she was everything her sister could be and more. Her sister had a career as a popstar and a marriage to another popstar. But Ashlee toured with her three best friends. Her parents didn’t understand, but they were supportive. Ashlee didn’t care. This wasn’t about them anymore.
Every so often a reporter would ask Ashlee about her sister. Ashlee said that she wasn’t her sister. They weren’t the same people, comparing them would only result in a headache.
-
They graduated from their van and into a bus. They recorded an album with songs that made the Top Ten. They rose to the top so quickly it was dizzy and heady and wonderful.
And then Joe began sleeping with Patrick.
-
Ashlee was confused by that fact. She was also disturbingly curious. She wasn’t sure if Andy stayed in the picture or what. It could be potentially disastrous. She, Joe, and Andy were more protective of Patrick than the boys were of her. She understood that. She found it backwards that they were the one who slept with Patrick. Ashlee never talked about sleeping with fans, but the boys knew she would go off and come back well fucked. They didn’t talk about that.
She made it a week before she kicked everyone who wasn’t band off the bus.
She sat her boys down on the couch and placed her hands on her hips. “Well,” she demanded. “Do I need to worry about this band?”
And it ends in GSF. \o/
Ashlee hated her parents. They dumped her in her aunt’s house so they could help Jessica start her career as a popstar. According to them, LA was no place for someone as… rebellious as Ashlee. She didn’t argue that she had stayed in New York with no problem. Well, Ashlee didn’t see it as a problem. At least her aunt lived in a populated area, and Chicago was Ashlee’s for the taking. Technically, it was a Chicago suburb, but Ashlee could easily figure out where the bus and el stations were. Or, even better, she could find someone with a car who wanted to drive her places.
School was one of the nonnegotiable requirements her parents had. The other was that Ashlee remembered that she was a guest in her aunt’s house and to respect her aunt’s rules.
Ashlee hated her parents.
And then Jessica became a popstar, and Ashlee hated the world.
-
Ashlee kept to herself at school. The last thing she wanted was to be labeled as the girl with a big nose whose sister was a celebrity.
Except someone discovered that she could act, dance, and sing, and Ashlee found herself auditioning for the school musical. She made the lead. It was not the least bit vindicating, but it was nice to be on stage again.
-
She ran into a classmate in an independent music shop. She meant to keep her distance, but he was examining cds right where she wanted to be.
She gave him a quick smile and said, “I’m glad I’m not the only one at school with good taste in music.”
He gave her a wide-eyed startled look.
“Hi,” Ashlee said. She couldn’t remember his name, so she said. “I’m Ashlee.”
“Patrick,” he said.
They spent an hour in a corner of the store discussing music that wasn’t mainstream. Ashlee didn’t want to talk about her sister.
They would have spent longer talking, except the store was closing.
As they parted ways, Patrick asked, “Do you play? A friend of mine is trying to form a band. We need a bass player. And a singer”
Ashlee liked how straightforward he was. Also, it was exactly what her parents didn’t want her to do. “I play guitar and sing. But I’m sure I could learn bass.”
Patrick gave her a speculative look but nodded. “Cool. I’ll let my friend know.”
-
Ashlee met Joe the next afternoon. She demonstrated her ability to sing and play her guitar. Joe nodded in approval, and Patrick handed her a bass.
“I’ll teach you,” he said.
Ashlee supposed that was when they became friends. Patrick sitting behind her, positioning her fingers, Joe smoking a fat roach, smiling happily, declaring that they were going places. Ashlee knew it was just optimism and the pot speaking, but she wanted to believe him. Her parents would be so pissed by that lifestyle.
And then Patrick sang, just humming to himself. Ashlee and Joe looked to each other and then to Patrick.
“You’re the lead,” Ashlee declared. “I’ll back you up one hundred percent, but the world needs your voice.” If she lightly trailed a hand down Patrick’s back, no one called her out.
“We’re going to be famous,” Joe said.
“Except now we’re out a drummer,” Ashlee pointed out.
“I know a guy,” Joe said. “He knows everyone in the scene.”
“Don’t I have a say in this?” Patrick protested weakly.
Ashlee and Joe shook their heads in tandem.
-
They went to concert after concert together. Viewing and critiquing together. They could do better.
Ashlee’s grades were the casualty.
At one concert, they finally met Joe’s guy who knew everyone. His name was Pete Wentz, and everyone in the Chicago scene knew his name. Very few people actually knew him personally. Ashlee was now one of the privileged few. Except Pete seemed to have eyes only for Patrick. Ashlee’s not going to lie: she didn’t approve. She’d become highly protective of Patrick in the past few months. Patrick had turned her into an amazing bassist, and Patrick’s not the most patient of people. But he had this way of becoming completely engrossed in the music, something Ashlee wished she had the attention span for.
“We’re looking for a drummer,” Joe said. “Our drummer has recently become our lead singer.”
Pete leaned back in his chair. “A drummer,” he said speculatively. “I’d need to hear you guys play first. You know, for compatibility.” He stared openly at Patrick’s mouth as he said it. Ashlee had to clamp down another flare of jealousy. She wasn’t going to lie to herself and call it something else.
It was not okay for anyone to objectify Patrick. Patrick was pure innocence, and it was Ashlee’s mission to keep him that way. Not that her own intentions were completely pure.
Pete then turned to Ashlee. His expression didn’t change. Ashlee met his expression with cool indifference, even if she wanted Pete to give her that expression for the rest of her life.
Pete’s face broke into a crooked grin. “However, I can tell you right now that you’re going to need a drummer who’s as pretty as the rest of your band.”
Patrick blushed, but Ashlee didn’t give Pete the pleasure. Maybe she should have. He didn’t seem too douche-y compared to the other guys in the scene.
Joe smiled happily and said honey-sweat, “Aw, honey, I knew you’d only give us the best.”
“I still need to hear you play, sweety,” Pete cooed back. Ashlee had no idea that Joe and Pete were that close.
-
They played for Pete the next night. Patrick drummed but also sang. It wasn’t their best run-through. Except that it didn’t matter, because Pete didn’t show up alone.
The song ended, and Pete and his guest conferred with each other. Ashlee and Joe flanked Patrick as he sat stiffly behind his kit. She and Joe shared a look, and by some unspoken agreement that Ashlee didn’t really understand, they both placed a hand on Patrick’s shoulders. Ashlee left, Joe right. Patrick leaned back into them, sticking to them with sweat. Ashlee didn’t mind the sweat as much as she thought she would. It’s Patrick.
“This is Andy,” Pete finally introduced his friend.
“Hi,” Andy said. He was pretty, Ashlee had to give Pete that. “You guys have a fuckload of potential.”
“Awesome,” Pete said. “This union requires consummation. Who wants pizza?”
-
Andy agreed to practice with them.
Ashlee almost failed every single class that semester. Until her parents found out. Then she had to focus on her grades until the summer.
-
Andy still played with other bands, but with him they were able to play an actual gig.
Patrick was too shy to talk to the crowd. Ashlee took care of that problem.
“This is my friend Patrick!” Ashlee shouted to the crowd as she slung an arm around Patrick’s sweaty neck. She stuck her nose in his ear. “Give him all the love he deserves!”
The crowd roared, and Patrick gave Ashlee a murderous look when she backed up to her place on the stage. She blew him a kiss.
-
Andy stopped playing with other bands.
-
Pete bounced from foot to foot with excitement, but it took him over a minute to tell them his news. A tour. He had scheduled them a tour for the summer. It was just around Illinois and two places in Wisconsin, but it was a tour.
Ashlee wondered when Pete took on the role as their manager. It wasn’t while she was looking. Pete wasn’t as bad as she had originally thought. He definitely knew his way around the industry. He was just a bit… much. Nothing at all like the boys back in Texas. At least not the boys her father let her meet. He reminded her of a boy she danced with in New York. But Pete was most definitely not a dancer.
The four of them crammed into a van with a broken A/C and traveled around the northern Midwest. After one night, the van smelled like boy.
Ashlee’s parents did not agree to that, but this was no longer about Ashlee’s parents. This was about Ashlee succeeded at something she wanted, and she was old enough to sign the papers herself.
-
The next tour - a US tour, they shared a cramped hotel room each hotel night. Most nights, they drove all night and slept in the back in shifts.
On hotel nights, there was usually only one bed. The boys always insisted that she took it. Ashlee always said that was a stupid idea. They rotated.
Until Patrick began sleeping with Andy.
-
Ashlee wasn’t sure how she noticed it. Subtle little clues. Patrick and Andy never had sex anywhere near Ashlee and Joe. At least she doesn’t think they do anything near Joe. They seemed softer around each other, and Andy being soft was something a bit noticeable. There was something extra in the beat while they performed. Something live.
Ashlee wanted to be jealous, but she wasn’t. She didn’t know why. She had been ready to claw Pete’s eyes out, but she’s surprisingly okay with Patrick and Andy. Not as okay as she could have been.
By an unspoken agreement, Joe and Ashlee let Andy and Patrick take the bed together.
It should have been awkward. It should have ended the band right then. Ashlee wasn’t sure why it didn’t. Why it wasn’t awkward.
They let it be, and it worked.
-
Then they’re signed to Island. It was amazing. This was what Ashlee wanted. She proved that she was everything her sister could be and more. Her sister had a career as a popstar and a marriage to another popstar. But Ashlee toured with her three best friends. Her parents didn’t understand, but they were supportive. Ashlee didn’t care. This wasn’t about them anymore.
Every so often a reporter would ask Ashlee about her sister. Ashlee said that she wasn’t her sister. They weren’t the same people, comparing them would only result in a headache.
-
They graduated from their van and into a bus. They recorded an album with songs that made the Top Ten. They rose to the top so quickly it was dizzy and heady and wonderful.
And then Joe began sleeping with Patrick.
-
Ashlee was confused by that fact. She was also disturbingly curious. She wasn’t sure if Andy stayed in the picture or what. It could be potentially disastrous. She, Joe, and Andy were more protective of Patrick than the boys were of her. She understood that. She found it backwards that they were the one who slept with Patrick. Ashlee never talked about sleeping with fans, but the boys knew she would go off and come back well fucked. They didn’t talk about that.
She made it a week before she kicked everyone who wasn’t band off the bus.
She sat her boys down on the couch and placed her hands on her hips. “Well,” she demanded. “Do I need to worry about this band?”
And it ends in GSF. \o/