Pretty. (Frerard, Petekey, Ryden, Peterick)

23: Everyone In This Chapter Starts Crying At Some Point (And So Will You)

"He fucking killed himself. Shot through the head and all over some fucked up lovesick drama that I can't help but imagine that you were highly involved with. So I hope you're fucking happy now - your boyfriend's dead. Really dead. Brains and blood across his bedroom dead. Handgun fallen to the floor dead. Bullet in his brain dead. Suicide note dead. Fucking 'I love you both'. Fucking coward. You can\'t see him, faggot, he's fucking dead, and I wouldn’t\t be fucking surprised if that bullet in his brain was your fault."

And that was all Mikey Way got from Mr Wentz before the front door was slammed and locked behind him, leaving the seventeen year old's world to shatter to pieces, almost in perfect synchronisation with his heart.

It didn't quite sink in, not really; he couldn't quite believe it - he didn't quite want to, but he'd never want evidence; he could never see someone he loved like that, and Mr Wentz had to, and maybe that allowed him to yell, and maybe that allowed him to scream, and maybe that did allow him to hate Mikey Way, but there was no way in hell that it allowed him to blame it upon the poor seventeen year old.

And then, slowly, it did sink in, and Mikey just wished it hadn't, because, fuck, his boyfriend was dead, Pete was dead; fucking killed himself, and dear fucking god. And the note, the note, the fucking note, this was all his fault, and Patrick's too, yet no one's at all, and his head wouldn't stop spinning and pretty soon he was going to pass out and fall into the road, and end up rather like Pete did, and fuck.

Mikey couldn't take it, Mikey couldn't fucking take it, and Mikey couldn't fucking believe it, yet it was real; it was too real, too fucking real, and he hated it. He wanted to hate Patrick for confessing and causing this, but he couldn't, and he wanted to hate Ryan for hating Pete, but still he couldn't, and he wanted to feel something, but really, he couldn't quite feel anything at all.

Pete loved him, but Pete loved Patrick too and Mikey didn't know if he hated that quite as much as he hated talking about Pete in the past tense, because Pete was still his fucking boyfriend, kind of, and no matter what, he still fucking loved him, and fuck, he couldn't believe that he'd walked out on him yesterday, and that was all he ever got left to say to Pete, and fuck, he just couldn't anymore.

Because there was no one to hear him apologise when for once he really meant it, and his head was spinning like fuck, and maybe he wanted to pass out, and maybe he wanted to get hit by a thousand cars, and maybe he wanted to die too, but Mikey wasn't like Pete in the fact that he could never quite do that.

Pete's head was fucked; Mikey knew that all too well. It was cutting, and pills, and disorders, and then this - Pete's head wasn't an easy place to live in for sure, whereas Mikey's tried, Mikey's head could try, Mikey's head fucking wanted him to get out of places like these and run from thoughts such as those, but Pete's was the one dragging him down that route in the first place.

And Mikey was going to be sick, Mikey was going to be fucking sick and his eyes were already raw from crying, and still he couldn't feel anything at all, and then, he just found himself running, and fucking running faster than he'd ever known: he had very little of a destination, but so fucking much to run from.

And soon enough, he found himself at the one person that this didn't fuck over, and the one relationship that Pete's death didn't affect at all: the one person he could still hate, regardless of guilt, and regardless of emptiness, and the person he said he didn't care about, but really did, so much more than anything.

Gee would kill him for ringing his doorbell at nine in the morning, but Mikey couldn't care less anymore - the concept of death was so relevant and so real right now, that almost felt just like the opposite of that, and maybe, this was just a fuck up, and maybe Mikey was just pretending, but if there was one thing that Mikey didn't want to be right now, it was a liar, even to himself.