The Kids Aren't Alright

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The elegant music, the golden scenery, the smell of expensive perfume and the toxic ordeal of wealthy men trading business successes from previous years. This was not Pete Wentz's scene.

He had never found appeal to these gatherings. He liked loud music and Jack Daniels, not a quiet orchestra and foreign wine but his father insisted he go and meet his future business partners.

Over the past year, Petes father had been rather persistent about continuing the family business and following his example but Pete had other plans of being a musician that his father would never stop. He had played bass nonstop for the past 3 years, even partially forming a band called Fall Out Boy and if that wasn't dedication, he didn't know what was.

Pete looked around, sipping on a glass of champagne that wasn't exactly legal for a 17 year old to drink and sighed. He knew the other reason as to why he was dragged here, the reason being for a girl.

For the past 3 years, Pete hadn't dated anyone. His parents assumed it for shyness and constantly dragged him out into the public in hopes of a romantic interest but there was another answer that wasn't quite as.... Straight.

To put it simply, Pete was gay as fuck.

And his parents were Donald trump supporting, racist, homophobic, transphobic assholes. It didn't really mix. Hell, he could only imagine if his parents found out that almost all of his friends were gay. Shit would go down for sure.
Before Pete could space out any longer, two slutty looking girls around his age walked up to him. "Hey cutie what's your name?" One of them flirted, batting their eye lashes furiously while the other stuck her chest out ridiculously far, as to attract attention. "Doesn't matter." Pete muttered, hoping his quietness would make them leave.
"Ooh a bad boy." One of them said far too obnoxiously. "I like bad boys." The other added with a horrible wink, looking like she wanted to crawl on top of him at that very moment.

At this point, Pete decided that if he couldn't make them leave, he would leave and with that, turned around to the exit, looking back to see the girls practically toppling over each other, trying to follow him but giving up with having to walk in 5 inch high heels.

The summer evening air hit him instantly as he walked on to the pristine steps of the social hall his father had rented for the event.
He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket and lit up, breathing in the nicotine air.

Just then he herd faint crying. He looked over the array of steps in front of him and saw a small figure sitting on one, head in hands. He cautiously walked over to the boy, the crying getting louder and saw tears streaking down his face.

He hesitated before sitting next him and asking, "Uh, are you okay?"

The guy looked up instantly, blue eyes dark as if a storm raged Inside of him. "I-I'm okay, s-sorry for bugging y-you." He said, removing his glasses to wipe his eyes.

   "It's no problem. What wrong, if you don't mind me asking?" Pete comforted, placing a hand on his shoulder. He instantly flinched, shying away from Petes hand as if he just got burned.

  "I'm s-sorry I-"
"it's fine." Pete said instantly, trying to make the boy feel okay. The boy looked so scared. Of Pete, of a simple touch, of the world.

"Name's Pete by the way." He said, blowing a cloud of smoke into the night sky. "Patrick." And with that, a comfortable silence fell over them while Patrick attempted to clean his face of any tears.
"Why are you even out here? Not to be rude but you have to be pretty rich to even enter that building." He spoke quietly with a little more confidence. At that moment, Pete realized that Patrick looked fairly.... Poor.

   His boots were scruffed, pants dirty and shirt wrinkled. In fact, the only thing that looked clean was the fedora perched on top of his head. It was kind of adorable, or at least Pete thought so.

"I needed to escape. Balding business men and slutty girls aren't really my thing." Pete smiled lightly, seeing Patrick let out a small laugh.

"What are you doing here?" Pete knew this was a risky question but he had to ask. Patrick looked so... Not alright and He had to know why. "" He could practically see the anxiety radiating off the boy.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want too." Pete said, even though his curiousity was peaked. "I have.... issues with my parents." He didn't continue but Pete knew how it felt, or at least he thought he did. "It will be okay. Maybe not now but eventually." Pete said in a comforting manner.

The problem was, Patrick knew it wouldn't. It would never get better than this.

This was the first time he had talked to anyone besides himself since two years ago, when his best friend, Phil Lester had moved to London. That was the last person he could trust and when he moved away, Patrick broke. His depression and anxiety had been stronger than ever. He no longer had a safe haven to go to escape from his parents and he was getting abused far worse than ever before. Tonight, Patrick had new bruises forming on his body and a blade in his pocket. Tonight, Patrick had been going to commit suicide.

What did he have to live for? There was nothing left. He felt like an empty shell. If his best friend saw him now, he would be unrecognizable. He hated his life, he hated himself and he hated that it had to end this way.

   Tonight, his dad had broke one of his last escapes, the amp for his guitar that he had bought when he was 14,

  his only way to escape reality. Obviously, he could still play guitar but it only produced a faint whisper, nothing near its previous sound.
Now it was gone.
Patrick heard scuttling and looked over seeing Pete put his cigarette out against the ground.

Pete. He was the only person who had comforted Patrick since Phil. Pete was different and Patrick liked that. He looked like the senior bullies that chased the sophomore slumps like Patrick but from the few words that were passed, he could tell there was something inside of him. Something good.

Pete shifted slightly, looking at Patrick. "It's gonna get easier somehow. Not today but one day you will find something or someone that will set you free from all of this. Just trust me. It's not over for you today." It was like Pete could see right through his facade and into his thoughts.
   "I don't-" Patrick started.
"Peter? Are you out here? You have company to meet!" His father called out, his siloulette showing from the door.
   "Be right there!" He called back.
Pete looked over Patrick's small body and sighed. "Here's my phone number. Please.... Call me if you need anything or want to hangout. You seem like an interesting person. Bye Patrick." He said with a slight smile.

  Patrick looked up at him, eyes glowing as he walked back up the steps into the building where his father was waiting.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of hellos and pats on the back for Pete but none of it mattered. Even when his head hit his pillows at the end of the night, only one thought ran through his mind.

|-/ A/N: AYYE kk so I never usually finish the stories that I write but I'm really motived for this one.
My goal is to work hard and finish this in June but idk.


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