The Way brothers were forced to take their leave not long after their conversation (A debriefing? A strategy meeting? A council of war?). "Witch stuff," Mikey had explained vaguely as they exited. Patrick decided that he ought to get up to some "witch stuff" too. Particularly, writing the songs that would save his friends' souls. Unfortunately, such a task was easier said than done.
Part of the hardship was in fetching the composition material itself. In order to save Pete, Joe and Andy, he needed their ideas which could only be found in their notes, and those could only be found in the boxes of things betrothed to him in his friends' wills. Andy's mother was a teary mess when she handed Patrick what her son had given him which made Patrick a teary mess (though he probably would have been one regardless). Joe's mother was a lot less sentimental, but her grief was just as crushing and Patrick left the Trohman residence utterly drained.
And to think, he hadn't even gone to grab Pete's things yet.
Pulling up to the wreckage of his own house was surreal for Patrick. Here he was on a street of perfectly pristine suburban homes and here was his own, reduced to dust and rubble right in the middle of them. The city hadn't even cleared things away yet! Patrick tried to stay focused solely on finding Pete's things. After all, Elisa was off at the shops right this moment to replace all the clothes and other essentials they'd lost. But when he caught sight of a picture of him and his band through the rubble he couldn't help but reach for it, even though the glass was cracked and the frame broken. In the end, Patrick ended up packing away quite a few personal artifacts in the box full of stuff Pete had betrothed to him.
Then came the songwriting itself, which - while yielding much less cuts to his hands - was far more emotionally taxing (and it certainly didn't help that said cuts would sting every time he'd strum his guitar). Composing for the first time after the break up, going through Pete's old lyrics and Joe's old riffs, everything about the process reminded Patrick of his profound loss.
So, it was quite exhausting when Patrick finally played the song he had so painstakingly composed for Phoenix and she informed him that not a single soul had been exorcised in the process.
Ugh, are you serious? How do you even know that?" Patrick groaned, flopping down on the pages and pages of notes he had read and written. "You don't happen to have the ability to detect souls or something yourself, do you?" he asked, upon which Phoenix telepathically answered, Of course, I do.
"Yeah, I figured," Patrick grumbled. "It was a rhetorical question." He sighed, sat up again. "I just don't understand. I put everything I had, hell, more than everything I had into that song. What's wrong with our spell?" Patrick frowned, and it was at that moment that he heard a knock on the door.
It was the Way brothers. When Patrick answered the door for them they were soaking wet from the rain that had started since he'd started composing and Gerard had a broad smile on his face. "Hey, babe," he said. "Have you been doing alright since we left?"
Patrick scratched the back of his head sheepishly, furrowed his brow. "Um... it could be better?"
The ways frowned. "What's up?" asked Mikey.
"Actually..." Patrick smiled sheepishly. "I'm having a bit of trouble with the... song, magic... stuff? Would you mind helping me out?"
"Of course not!" Gerard said, smiling. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Well, I've tried the method Phoenix and I came up with, but it's not working. She claims she can still detect all my friends' souls, so..."
"I see..." Gerard said, narrowing his eyes and tapping his chin in an exaggerated manner. "I suppose you expected that saving their souls would take a day? Several hours, perhaps?"
"Um, well, I don't know..." Patrick scratched his head sheepishly. "Maybe?" He stiffened then, as he heard faint chuckling. Gerard was hiding his hand behind his mouth and the sight made Patrick flush furiously. "Oh, come on, it's not that funny."
"If not, then why is Phoenix laughing?" Mikey asked, pointing to her. Sure enough, Phoenix sat perched on the cluttered desk, her head bobbing slightly as she chittered behind one of her large brown wings.
"Sorry, sorry," Gerard said, shaking his head. "You're right, you're right, it's not funny. It's just... that's a real witch right of passage, thinking a big complicated spell is going to take a day at most."
In response, Patrick sighed heavily. "Still not a witch," he grumbled.
"Don't be silly. You're trying to tease Pete, Joe and Andy's soul out of music of all things, that's the witchyest shit one can imagine. Anyway, I'm sure we'll find a way to do it. It might just take a little longer than you expected, Patrick."
"I just hope I can figure it out soon," Patrick said, frowning. "Every second my bandmates' souls spend on Earth is one more where they're vulnerable to Silence the Noise."
"I... might have an idea...." said a tentative voice from elsewhere in the room. Mikey. Patrick looked up at him, wordlessly. He had an uncertain expression on his face. "The connections between people that music creates, that's what you draw your power from, right? That's what's meant to free Pete, Joe and Andy's souls?"
Patrick nodded. "Yes," he said.
"And your theory is that by playing their music, you can free them."
"Yes," Patrick said again.
"Well, what if we expanded on the connections between music," Mikey said. "Right now, you're really only focusing on the bonds that exist between the music makers. But musicians make music for others to listen to. Every Fall Out Boy album was released to a large community of fans. Maybe what you need is a proper audience.
"Well, what are you suggesting, then?" Patrick asked flatly. "That I go on some 'all my friends are dead' memorial tour?" In response, Gerard and Mikey said nothing, only raised their eyebrows at each other. Finally, Mikey shrugged.
"Honestly? That doesn't sound like a bad idea."
"Ugh," Patrick groaned, and he hung his head.
"Oh, come on, what's wrong with it?" Gerard asked. "It's the best way to play in front of a crowd. And I know it's a little tender to get up on stage so soon after what happened to your friends. Our friends. But what other choice do we have?"
No choice. Patrick knew that perfectly. The very thought of getting up on stage, of singing for anyone other than Phoenix or Elisa or the Ways made him want to scream and cry.
"I'm out of money," he finally said, flatly. He looked back up at the Ways. "I blew it all on Soul Punk."
"Of course, of course, that's a fair concern," Gerard said, nodding. "Luckily, we just might know a way around that for you."
"And just what might that be?" asked Patrick, sounding somewhat skeptical.
"Well, what do you think Mikey and I have been doing while you were gone? Come on, guess."
Patrick furrowed his brow. "Um..." he thought for a moment. "Looking for witch things...? But-"
"Yes, that's right!" Gerard interrupted him. "Well, that's the basic gist of it, anyway."
"Did you know?" Mikey began. "Every city's got an underground witch scene, full of underground witch places. Surely, one will be the perfect place for you to conduct your spell."
"Oh, come on." Patrick scoffed. "Do you really expect me to play my friends' songs in some sort of... potion shop?" At that, the Way brothers sighed.
"You know, for someone who is a witch themselves, you can be quite insensitive."
"No, unfortunately none of the potion shops we found have space for any live performances," Gerard said with a shrug. "But we did find another sort of venue. A friend of ours works there and we can take you there if you've got the time. I really think you would like scouting it out."
"Scouting it out?" Patrick echoed. He tapped his finger against his chin. He had to admit, he was curious, even if it sounded strange. He looked to the clock and then towards the window. At eight in the evening, it was getting late and the rain that had begun before was coming down quite heavily now. Would it be a good idea to brave it for the sake of this mysterious place the Way brothers had found?
But then Phoenix tugged at his heart with her own thoughts. Think of your friends, she told him. If you don't save them, Silence the Noise wins. If you don't free their souls, music is gone forever. And I'm not going to allow that to happen.
I'm not either, Patrick thought, agreeing with Phoenix. He might not have liked the sound of the Way brothers' idea but what choice did he have? Certainly, he wasn't skilled enough in all these weird magic things to do it on his own.
"Alright, I'll go," he said. "But it better not be anything too ridiculous."
Gerard pumped his fist. "Alright, yes! I promise, you won't regret our help, Patrick Stump."
Just then, the motel door opened and Elisa stepped through, throwing off her wet coat and her wet boots. Her soaked clothes and hair stuck to her skin, making Patrick flush. God, his girlfriend was so beautiful. She smiled at him.
"Hello, Patrick. Hi, boys," she said, addressing the Way brothers. "How's your... er... spell thing going? Are you having any luck?"
"Actually, that's just what we were discussing right now," Gerard said.
"I suggest you put that coat and pair of boots back on Ms. Yao," Mikey suggested. "We're going out in just a minute."
"What?" Elisa said, the confusion and surprise evident in her voice. "But... but it's so late... where on Earth are you going?"
"To a place where Patrick's magical ability can reach its greatest potential," Gerard answered. Elisa looked to her boyfriend, who shrugged helplessly. She sighed.
"Well, alright, I suppose I'll come along." Elisa crossed her arms. "But it better not be anything ridiculous."
The rain tonight was more terrible than the day of the funeral and it was made all the worse when one considered the hastily setting sun. It came down in such thick sheets that it completely soaked the raincoat Patrick wore, to the point where the water simply seemed to seep through it. The socks he had on were sopping wet and although he and the others had hardly been outside for ten minutes, they were already shivering to the point of chattering teeth.
The only one who didn't seem affected by the intense cold was Phoenix.
"Why aren't you shivering?" Patrick asked, somewhat accusingly as they walked through the darkened streets. "It's so cold, aren't you soaking like the rest of us?" Phoenix didn't say anything in response. In fact, she went on happily preening her feathers as if they weren't being pelted by a million little water needles.
"Well, I don't think I like this as much as she does..." Elisa whispered to Patrick and he couldn't help but agree with her. Through his nearly thirty years of living in it, he'd come to know Chicago very well, but this was a sketchy part of town that not even he had seen before. Yet the Way brothers, two kids from Jersey, were walking around as if they'd known this place their whole lives.
"In a way, we sort of have?" Mikey answered when Patrick asked them (half-jokingly) if they'd ever been here before. "We've never been to this particular street in Chicago, of course, but a lot of witching districts look like this, so you come to be familiar with the vibes after a while."
"Witching districts?" Elisa echoed.
"Yeah. Districts where a concentrated population of witches live. What, you didn't think we liked to get together or something?"
"Um. We... no, we..." Elisa stammered. She looked to Patrick for help, but of course, he had none. Perhaps she was having the same thought as him. That, before this very moment, they hadn't thought about just where witches lived at all.
"If this is the witching district, where are all the witches then?" Patrick asked.
"Sleeping. Or in the place we're looking for."
The place we're looking for. The Way brothers had yet to tell Patrick and Elisa just where that was. And honestly, he was beginning to think that was because they didn't quite know either.
"Guys, I've found it!" Gerard shouted. During Patrick, Elisa and Mikey's conversation he'd walked ahead up the street. The other three went to catch up with them and found him standing at a street corner, looking intently at one of the only shops in the area with its lights on. A sign hung above it, illuminated by soft, flickering under head lights.
"The Devil's Tavern..." Elisa read, furrowing her brow. "That's the name? It's pretty edgy..."
"It is according to the black book," Mikey said.
"The what?" Elisa and Patrick chorused.
"The black book," Gerard supplied. "It's a record of places that are neutral on and pro-witch and thus, are safe to visit."
"And places that are anti-witch," Mikey added. "So, we know to avoid them."
"But most people don't know witches exist," Patrick said. "So, how can there be anti-witch places?"
"Yeah, our practices aren't exactly common knowledge," said Mikey. "But why do you think that is? I'll tell you," he said, before Patrick could answer. "People have all kinds of misconceptions about witches. Most of us don't believe we're real. And those who do think we're demonic, or at the very least mean them harm when we really don't. But it doesn't matter. They attack us, thinking they're protecting themselves, so now we've been pushed to the fringes of society, where at least they won't actively oppress us anymore.
"Honestly, Patrick," Gerard began. "You need to get with the program. Now that you're a witch, this is extremely important stuff for you to be learning."
"Still not a witch..." Patrick sighed, his cheeks coloring slightly. He would never accept that title. Never ever. And certainly not as long as it meant dealing with Silence the Noise. Elisa cleared her throat.
"Look, guys. This history lesson is nice and all, but it is wet and freezing out here, so if you're really sure this is the place we need to be, can we go inside now? I'd really rather not have a cold on top of being chased by an evil, magical cult."
The boys exchanged glances. "That is a fair concern," Mikey conceded.
"Alright, fine, let's go," Gerard said. And he leaned in towards Elisa and Patrick and whispered, "And don't be weird about anything. Or overly suspicious or fearful. Witches don't really like newcomers or amateurs. I'm speaking from experience."
Patrick and Elisa nodded. As they grew closer not even the pouring rain could overpower the sound of raucous laughter and conversation. Or dampen the intimidating presence of the bouncer outside.
Patrick was almost surprised by how much he seemed like the typical bouncer. Same dark suit and shades and even shaved head. The only difference was that in place of where a gun or taser would be on any normal bouncer's holster, there was a little wooden wand instead, glowing faintly red at the tip.
The bouncer pulled his shades down and narrowed his eyes at the group. "I apologize," he said in a deep voice. "But I am afraid access is restricted." In response, Patrick instinctively stepped back, taking Elisa's arms for comfort. But Gerard only smiled.
He began, "Yes, but we're witches-"
"Being a witch is not enough to grant you access," the bouncer said, his voice a little harsher.
At that, Gerard rolled his eyes to Mikey who seemed similarly unintimidated. "Just tell 'em that Donna requested us."
That seemed to do the trick. The bouncer muttered something sharp and quick into his mouthpiece and a moment later the light above the door went from red to green. The bouncer turned back to the group with a slightly less severe expression.
"Apologies for the delay," he said, his voice gentler. "You may go in."
Patrick and Elisa exchanged astonished glances and Gerard smiled. "Wow, you guys are impressed and we haven't even gone in yet. I can't wait for you two to see even more witch stuff."
ns216.73.216.224da2
然後按「加至主畫面」