Brooklyn Nights- Petekey

Early Sunsets

The first few weeks of Warped were a lot of fun since we got to see each other more than we usually did. We were rarely apart, watching each other's sets while our bands were on. Some nights we'd sleep in the Fall Out Boy bus, others we'd spend in the My Chemical Romance one. We would go on walks together away from the venue to places where we wouldn't be easily recognized. The Fourth of July was probably the most amazing night of my life.

We were in Fresno, having a small barbecue with our band mates. Chlorine kissed, summer skin. Mikey and I got to show affection without worrying about paparazzi and it was fantastic. After the sun went down, someone brought fireworks and Ray lit them off with Frank. Mikey and I found a private place to watch them, but I couldn't stop staring at his elated reaction. Watching the colored lights reflect off of Mikey's hazel eyes made it seem like nothing else in the world existed. After Ray's "grand finale" I leaned over and kissed Mikey passionately, cradling his face.

"Just when I thought the fireworks were over," he smiled wide after pulling away.

"You thought," I said before kissing him again.

Other performance-less days were often spent at waterparks. Waterpark days and having fun with my best friends were awesome breaks from the tour. Just a bunch of twenty-something-year-old emos running around a waterpark in July. I got to see Mikey shirtless, too. Speaking of being shirtless, Mikey wouldn't stop staring at my tattoos, not that I minded or anything. He was so interested when I explained what each one meant and when I got it. I also told him about the ones I wanted in the future, and he told me that he wanted to get one someday. I remember that Gerard always wore a tee shirt, even in the pool. Gerard and Frank never left each other's sides at the waterpark, or at the venues, for that matter. Mikey and I speculated a secret relationship, thinking they'd be cute together. After we left the waterpark, Mikey and I would try to find a place with a view to watch the sunset, or, to put it bluntly, make out in private. In the end, we took care of each other, Mikey's company comforted me, and I hoped I did the same for him.

After a while of touring, things changed.
We were not expecting as much attention or paparazzi, but I guess that's what happens when you and your boyfriend's bands become suddenly popular. There were fans and photographers everywhere; sneaking around became more challenging.

Mikey began to change, too. He seemed more anxious and stressed. He worried about my LiveJournals, thinking that people would figure out that we were dating. Looking back at the LiveJournals, I can see how obvious they were; my bad. We began to be around each other less, and when we were together, Mikey was still anxious. It was hard seeing him like that and knowing that I couldn't help. I began stressing more, also, but I tried my best to not let it show. Fame bothered him more than it bothered me; he had stage fright and never wanted to let fans down. He was afraid of messing up, and that took a toll on our relationship because he was convinced that us being public would ruin his image and hurt the band. Why did he think that? I'm not sure, but I respected his wishes of staying private.

I had smudged eyeliner from our seven months of our bad luck dating. I was tired of everything, everything except for Mikey Way. And I had to lose him to keep him. I wanted to end on a good note. I wanted him to be happy, with or without me, whatever it took. Mikey and I couldn't be together anymore, not like this, in secret and feeling locked up. We peaked early. It was fun at first, almost a large part of what brought us close was sneaking around like spies, comforting each other in a way, but it had gotten tiring.

It was a late August afternoon, after weeks of our relationship deteriorating. I walked to My Chemical Romance's tour bus and asked Mikey to go on a walk with me. Reluctantly, he said yes and we snuck around to find a private place to talk. He looked restless, probably knowing what was coming. We made our way out of the venue and I took hold of his hand for the last time. We found a private area in a forest by walking down a trail. "Mikey..." I began, trying to find a way for the words to carefully leave my mouth.

"Pete," he said, sadly.

"It's not that I don't want to love you, or that I'm really over it. It's just that I can't watch us bleed to death."

"We used to be Brooklyn nights happy," Mikey said softly.

"I know," I said quietly, kissing him on his chin. "One day, maybe six months from now, maybe a year, maybe ten, we'll meet up again. It might just a goodbye, closure, or something more. We'll both tell the truth, and it will be like the good times. We can go back and play pretend. I love you, and I will always want to and always will, but we can't tear each other apart." I'm not sure if he bought that, but I believed in my silly hopes because the thought of not having another moment spent with someone so special to me was too difficult to bear.

It was mutual; we wanted it to be friendly. We wanted to keep the happy memories of each other in our minds, and that meant avoiding each other the rest of the tour. It was difficult; I wanted him to to be comfortable and for us to be together, but sometimes things happen at the wrong time.

We agreed to keep the apartment for whenever either of us were in New York and needed a place other than a hotel to stay at. I couldn't bring my self to visit it again, although I've had a few chances at New York tour stops. We both pay for it monthly; I'll admit that it's sad reminder. I thought about staying in it this week, I really wanted to, but I couldn't find my key. I swore that I used to keep it in one of my clothing drawers, hidden, but when I looked, it wasn't there. It must have been a sign, to let it go, to keep the memories and just appreciate that they happened. I guess coming back to New York City was me trying to find the closure without having to see him again, even though I wanted to see him more than anything. I think about him every day; I miss him with all my soul. I think about what could have been if we weren't famous or if it were any other way. He's my favorite "what if", he's the best "I'll never know".

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Okay, this was hard to write.
I've been writing fic all day, dang.

-xoxo A