"Shows aren't really my scene, Pete." I admitted down the phone line, as once again I found myself engaging in yet another tiresome phone call with the one and only Pete Wentz.
At least now I was home alone, so at least Gerard couldn't make annoying comments in the background in general attempt to test and eventually break my patience. So that was a bonus at the very least.
"How can shows not be your scene- Mikes? Shows, man!" His words came out warily almost as if my dislike to drunken mosh pits was dehumanising me entirely. Well, in Pete's books, it probably was, but things weren't like that in mine.
"I don't know... there are just people and it's not... I don't know... my thing." I shrugged it off, knowing that Pete would be even more repulsed by the words that just left my lips but I couldn't care; he would just have to get over this shit.
"You're so anti-social - it's cute."
"How? How? How is it cute?" Anti-social was pissing me off, just like it was apparently doing so for Pete but most importantly was it in no way cute or adorable. But then again, Pete could look at a famished alligator and still want to suck it off, so I'm not entirely sure his opinion is one I trust in this matter.
"Because you're cute - everything about you is cute, Mikes. That's for certain, okay?" His words were sincere yet in no way convincing enough. And there most certainly was the matter that Pete was nothing short of a simply atrocious liar.
"Whatever you say, Pete. Whatever the hell you say." I sighed, letting him have his way for the sake of it. I was kind of tired and not in the mood to care about Pete Wentz and potentially hurt feelings.
"Princess-"
"Pete!" Jesus Christ - I could kill this guy pretty much all of the time and how I'd managed to end up being in love with him was really nothing short of an utter mystery.
"Yes, your knight in shining armour is here - you called..." he paused for a moment but the effect was unappreciated as by knowing Pete for more than a second, I knew far too well as to what was coming next, "princess." Damn, I was right, as unfortunately expected.
"Piss off, hospital boy." I let out the first words, reminiscent of an insult that came to my mind and evidently it really wasn't the best of insults at all. In fact my words barely even counted as insults and instead of even receiving a sigh over the phone, I just caught some badly muffled laughter as Pete Wentz basked in my utter hopelessness like the nice little shithead he was.
"Hospital boy?" I could sense the smirk even down the phone line, seeing as it was practically a signature feature of Pete.
"You managed to fall down the stairs to avoid a goddamn scented candle- I did tell you they were goddamn health and safety hazards but did you listen oh no, of course not. You’re Pete Wentz how the hell could you possibly have listened to a single goddamn word that left my lips- can you even hear a word I'm saying right now over the sound of that enormous ego of yours?"
"Mikes, Jesus Christ!" Pete let off a laugh like a steam train, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes contently in the solitude of my own kitchen where I could be the pissiest little bitch I damn well wanted to be.
"What?" I shrugged it off, as if I hadn't just spilled out a whole pile of shit to him for very little reason or with very little coherence.
"Dude, chill. My ego is fabulous - it's part of me, and I know you love it really so how about you shut the hell up?" Nah, I didn't think I'd take him up on that offer, you know. It was nothing personal. It was just the fact that he was annoying and I was stuck in the heart snapping situation of both loving and hating him.
"I'd rather not." I chuckled down the line at him, just to ensure that we couldn't somehow turn this into an actual argument because screwing things up with Pete Wentz was not on my agenda at all. As much as I hated the guy, I couldn't shake the fact that I was both painfully and hopelessly in love with him and really, I kind of just loved to hate him more than anything.
"Rebellious, Mikes?" His voice was taunting me now, and he was making it quite goddamn clear, like the pretentious little twat he was.
"Are we getting rebellious now? Hmm... I didn't put you down as the type to you know, fight back, but whatever it is, honey, I'm liking it- I mean you did this all yourself I didn't even put viagra in anything for you." Yeah, I think the fact that he hadn't drugged me up was kind of a good thing.
"Yeah, that's because I'm now careful not to accept anything from you. Anything at all. I swear the police should raid your house; there'd be someone at the drug search unit that you'd make cry." I chuckled a little to myself at the mental image of that; a drugs raid at Pete's house really wouldn't go down well at all.
"I'd make a policeman cry..." He pondered over the idea for a few moments, tossing it about between his brain cells as he almost toyed with it, considering the possibility.
"Yes, I think you would, to be honest. As much as it unnerves me." I said into the static and silence maybe just to ensure he hadn't put down the phone and ran off to the nearest police offer to do god knows what.
"That's a fascinating idea, you know." I could sense the smirk once again.
"Pete just seriously-" I protested, almost giving up on my boyfriend entirely within the few seconds he'd managed to drag this strand of conversation on for.
"Mikess...." He dragged out the nickname, putting on that puppy dog tone of voice that most likely had matching eyes which I was simply glad I couldn't see and was therefore immune to.
"Pete, I'm going to hang up if you carry on like this and then you have absolutely no chance of convincing me to come to you goddamn Fall Out Boy show, which probably isn’t even a show, and you've probably just rented out a whole strip club for the two of us- And don't do that, Wentz. Don’t you do that."
He let out a chuckle at that as he probably had planned that entirely word by word and if he hadn't, I was simply doing nothing short of giving him ideas. And then those ideas would become reality and really everything would go downhill from there, as things tended to when Pete Wentz was involved.
"This is the first Fall Out Boy show - you're my boyfriend, and my life support. You need to be there, we need you there, I need you there, Mikes. The whole band needs you there." I was pretty sure that the whole of his goddamn band didn't 'need' me there.
One half of Fall Out Boy wouldn't even have remembered my name from the one time I briefly met them, and Patrick and I aren't on the best of terms considering just how we ended up being acquainted.
Pete was just being a desperate little bitch, as usual. But a cute little desperate bitch so it wasn't like there was any hope of me managing to ignore him, of course.
"Dude, you got out of hospital mere hours ago and you think this is a good idea? You want to play a show with moshpits and crowd surfing and an after party with lots of booze and god knows what else?" As my mind cycled through the possibilities, things only seemed to get worse and I let out a muffled groan, almost face planting into the wall before I realised that a decision like that would end up sending me to hospital.
And then I'd have to put up with the shitty hospital food, the endless supply of grapes and most importantly, Pete's relentless and tiresome teasing. Yeah, that's really not at all on my agenda.
"And you don't?" Yeah, of course I don't - Jesus Christ. It was seriously like he was trying to get himself killed- yeah, actually I probably shouldn't think extensively about that before I ended up jinxing us all or something like that.
I'm really not one for superstition, but I do seem to have awful bad luck these days, so it can't hurt, and it's not as if I want to think excessively about the death of my boyfriend because that's really not healthy - for both of us, but for him in a much more literal sense.
"Of course I don’t and the only life support machine you need is the one attached to you while you're in a hospital bed!" He tutted, clearly just a little pissed off, or maybe he was just joking - you couldn't tell when it came to Pete Wentz and I hated that more than I hated him sometimes, but I was awful at hating him to be honest.
He chuckled, letting me on to the fact that in reality he really just wasn't at all bothered and that he simply liked messing with me far too much. "You're such a loser, Mikes." He said in an oddly affectionate and totally Pete Wentz manner, managing to piss me off just a little bit.
"It's called general rules regarding the fact that despite how much of a bitch you're being, I don't actually want you to die all that much."
To be honest, I couldn't even imagine living without Pete and simply the thought of him dying was just one that I didn't want to let cross my mind despite its eventual inevitability. It wouldn't happen for a long time though, I had that for my neurotic tendencies to rely upon.
"Harsh." He let out a chuckle, again absolutely not giving a shit as his voice left his lips in a manner reminiscent of a summer breeze... one that fucking blew in your direction causing you to lose your ice cream to a goddamn scavengerous seagull with one big fucking ego.
"Meh, harsh but true." I shrugged it off, trying and failing to rid my head of the quite frankly ridiculous seagull ice cream stealing fantasy that was quite honestly spinning my head around at what seemed like a thousand miles an hour.
"That's horrible. You're horrible." He made a mock crying noise, and I couldn't help but let out a hoard of really, really badly muffled laughter at that, because goddamn, Pete Wentz was going to ruin me in every and anyway he saw fit.
"Well, it's not like you'd want horrible people coming to your show, is it?" I took my turn to tease him now, enjoying how the twitching corners of his smirk turned down within instants, and letting a smirk replace the solemn look of my face in some sort of dodgy and probably illegal smirk smuggling trade.
"Oh piss off!" He sighed, letting out an exasperated and generally quite hopeless half sigh half grumble in a typical Pete Wentz temperamental two year old manner.
It was kind of cute at times with the big wide eyes and the overly pouty lips, but now this wasn't one of those times at all. I think it was probably to do with the fact that I couldn't see the pouty lips and big round eyes that led to my immunity, but I didn't tell him that because if I did end up revealing my weakness then if I gave it a few seconds, I'd probably end up with Pete's face pressed up against the nearest window.
His lips would be squashed against the glass in a mildly disgusting manner, but somehow he'd make it kind of cute with those Pete Wentz voodoo attraction powers he somehow managed to earn the right of possession of.
"You're being horrible now!" I protested, almost copying his two year old speech in an entirely and totally unregretful hypocritical two year old manner. It wasn't like toddlers knew the meaning of hypocrisy at all though, so surely I could pass it off with such a mediocre- well downright bullshit excuse as that.
"Whatever, honey, whatever. It's called artistic license." Apparently he didn't know what artistic license was either - well there's a surprise. It did amuse me though, as much as I wanted to smack both him and myself clean in the face, he was still awfully cute with this naiveness that sometimes did nothing but drive me straight up the wall.
"How is being a prat anything to do with artistic license whatsoever?" I reminded him, letting an utter unimpressed smirk slip onto the corners of my face.
Pete shrugged it off in nothing but an entirely mediocre manner. "It is because I say it is, goddamn." Well there goes a point for modesty, of course. Pete Wentz was the nation's mascot for modest and thoughtful behaviour without a single doubt. Note the obvious, heavy, and very over-applied sarcasm.
"I'm not sure the world works quite like that, but you can try, I guess." I let him have it to some extent, the rest of me still a little sleep deprived due to Pete's excessive late night phone calls that somehow never ever seemed to take the slightest toll upon him, which really did piss me off to an unheard of extent.
"The world abides by the laws and massive gravitational pull of my massive penis and you've seen it, you should know- come on, you know - I know you know. You're nodding because I have a massive dick and boy you know it-" I wasn't even nodding at all and in fact I was very concerned that he was watching me somehow through my windows, and despite the fact that the phone reception in my back garden was utter dog shit, I closed the blinds, just in case, you know.
"Pete Jesus Christ-" I protested once again, but like every time, an ego like that would never quite let me finish.
"Nope. I will not be silenced as I have a right to my freedom of speech, honey." Honey, dear god, here comes the inevitable and far too expected sweet talking method that was nothing but to be waited upon with any form of Pete Wentz persuasion or badly executed flattery, which I suppose kind of fell into the same category when it came to someone like him.
"And yet you're using this freedom of speech to boast and lie about this dick length you just don’t have, wow, mature." Maturity was evidently not something that could be considered Pete's forte, but I guessed he knew that at the very least, despite my obvious doubt regarding it.
"Emphasis on the freedom part, you know freedom as in do what you want with it." Well at least Pete knows the meaning of one word at the very least; he's just not entirely clear on how our government actually chooses to implement that 'freedom' bullshit.
Because for a goddamn land of the free, we don't get an awful lot of freedom, especially if you're not a white, American, heterosexual, cis gendered, male and you catch the eye of one in the street, well then to hell with that freedom; you'll be shot on sight. As of course our government chose to implement freedom with the freedom of firearms use, as of course that's exactly the kind of freedom everyone needs.
"Yeah, I know what it means - I have an English degree.” Yes, I knew this would eventually come in useful, even in the most unlikely of circumstances. This is what I didn't read Pride and Prejudice for - pissing off my boyfriend. Yup, thank you college.
"Shut the hell up, we both know you bullshited that, and in fact, Way, I helped you, so shut up." Yeah, okay he had a point, despite the fact that it was Gerard that stole the DVD from Lindsey or whatever the hell that girl he actually went on a date with was called.
I wondered if he'd actually bothered to give that back or not. I very much doubted that he actually would have, considering the fact that he's Gerard and he's about as reliable as an unruly and literary incompetent otter. Not that I know many otters that are superb in their literary expertise, but you never know, maybe I just don't know the right otters- in fact, I don't know any otters, well not personally.
That's really disheartening. I think I'd like to befriend an otter, and now I'm also certain that again Pete Wentz has managed to drug me once again. How he manages it I will never know and at the very least that's something I have to commend him for, if only sarcastically.
"Nah, I'd just rather lay here in my empty house and drink coffee as I appreciate the emptiness of my house and the ability to have some coffee without it being stolen or to be able to walk into the basement without the fear of being scarred for life by coming into contact with your naked brother."
Yeah, I should just avoid the basement at all costs if I'm honest. Especially when Frank's over, because that's an experience I really don't want to relive dear god.
"Most people watch porn when they're home alone, Mikes. You're missing out, I tell you." The fact that Pete wanted me to watch porn was really fucking creepy, and of course, since he was Pete Wentz, that was entirely nothing short of the point.
"It's not entirely my thing and anyway... Gerard just has this creepy thing like he'd just know and I don't want him to know oh my god, because he would tell mum in a heartbeat. He’d be like ‘oh mother dear don't sit there, Mikey Way your youngest son ejaculated at precisely 4:16pm on a Tuesday on that chair."
"You should come to the show, you know." He let that slip back into conversation, the words rolling off his tongue like nothing more than an overly suggestive hint misplaced into an obvious and just a little annoying trap.
"No." I shot him back a clear answer, maybe just to piss him off a lot, but mostly because I was far too tired to come up with a comprehensive list of reasons as to why I simply couldn't be bothered with shows. He could get me over the phone and I'd say words of encouragement at perfectly timed minute intervals if he wanted, but goddamn I just didn't fit into the atmosphere of a rock show one bit, and I thought my own boyfriend could have guessed that by now.
But Pete has this thing where if something isn't in his favour, then of course he's totally oblivious to it in the world's most mature manner possible. I guess it could come in useful sometimes, but for the most part that shit's nothing short of damn right annoying.
"Why not?" He spoke in the pout present voice once again, once again nothing more than in a mediocre attempt to piss me off, or possibly even win me over, but with the chances of the latter working, well realistically anyway, I went with the former, probably just to piss him off, you know.
"You'll be there." I answered, my face laden with a blatant smirk that I was simply kind of glad he couldn't see, well if as I suspected, and his face was pressed up against my window, he probably had a prime view of the smirk across my lips, but I was just counting on the fact that I had a slightly over active and generally kind of concerning imagination.
"You’re coming to this goddamn show or Mikey Way I will drag you out of your house and make you come." He yelled down the phone, assuring me in a sort of creepily all-knowing and kind of god like manner.
"I'm in my goddamn underwear-" I stopped myself as soon as I realised that this really wasn't the best thing to tell Pete Wentz, but of course, I realised far too late. Because now the flirting, flattering and generally love and war games were all on, but I guess two could play, even if I could barely play in anything over than a ridiculously shitty manner.
"All the better-" There was definitely a wink through that phone line - I could sense it in these Pete Wentz psychic powers which I had been apparently 'gifted' with, but honestly I wasn't sure I wanted to know what went on in that head of his for the most part of the time.
"Pete-"
"Maybe you should have kept that cocksucking mouth of yours shut then, you know, and then maybe I wouldn't know- oh my god you totally are masturbating!" He exclaimed out of nowhere, connecting together a thankfully false accusation.
That ego of his must be bursting entirely now if he managed to assume that I was touching myself over the sound of his static distorted voice over the phone. Yeah, this couldn't be good for either of us, to be honest.
"I'm not." And I’m that sad that I wasn't even lying, not that touching myself during a phone call with Pete Wentz makes you at the height of popularity- oh shit... he's got this idea because he's definitely done exactly that to me before and Pete has this thing where he doesn't quite appreciate how messed up his head is and just assumes that everyone else thinks exactly like him.
I kind of feel sorry for him, but just a little, because I shouldn't really and what he is thinking is definitely something not to be taken seriously, or it'll lead to... serious consequences.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire with the fury of cock rising against them-" Oh dear lord - I just need Jesus. Pete needs Jesus. We all need goddamn Jesus.
"I'm glad you don’t design those children's nursery rhyme things-"
"What the hell? In what pit of hell is that a nursery rhyme?" Yeah, he had a point, despite the fact that he was the one with the messed up head that came up with that in the first place.
"The one you spawned out of."
"You seem to be awfully well acquainted with it."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Your own, and only your own."
"Piss off, let me get back to prancing around my kitchen naked like a loser, okay?" I wondered if simply the thought of me being naked home alone would be enough to entice Pete into shutting up entirely- aw shit! The only thing it'd entice him to do would come over to my house and get some of that naked action that fortunately wasn't even occurring.
"Not a chance, Mikes. That naked offer is something that is in fact far too good to even consider passing up - I'm coming over now. You're coming to this show, Way. Whether you like it or not, whether you have clothes on or not - I don't care. But after you've sucked me off of course. We've got time for a quickie before sound check and if not I don't care if we’re late." Well... shit.
"Pete, I am not-" Naked. Yeah, he wouldn't let me finish as I doubted that he particularly wanted to ruin a fantasy he probably had running through his head right now.
"I will make you go to that show if it's the last thing either of us do."
"I would like to watch you try. Because not for anything, not for you, not for Breaking Bad, not for those stupid puppy dog eyes of yours am I getting dragged along to this show of yours with alcohol and strippers and that guy you cheated on me with before."
"As I said, watch me."
And then, he did the untypical Pete Wentz thing and actually slammed the phone down. I was in awe for a few moments, before I let the handset slip through my fingers and back down onto the hook.
I glanced at my coffee that was now stone cold on the kitchen counter and tipped the icy contents down the kitchen sink, creating a few caffeine based stains that no one would bother to clean up within the next decade or so.
I then found my eyes travelling downwards towards my boxer shorts. I chuckled at the joys of an empty house and how Pete would simply put a stop to that. Although, I'd topped this guy, I still wasn't quite so keen upon him walking in on me quite like this, so I hurried upstairs and tried my best to rectify my situation with the lack of clothing as I imagined Pete racing as fast as he can, breaking every speed limit to get to my house just to see me in my underwear.
It was an amusing picture, if not one that was definitely freaking creepy, but then again Pete Wentz's speciality was nothing but bringing the two; both creepy and amusing together.
He was stupidly determined and I found the will within me to shoot him on sight, but no, I had a boyfriend and that was something to be appreciated, his stubbornness, however was not.
And believe me; I was not going to this shitty show, even if it was the last decision I made.
-
"You want another drink, Mikes?"
"No, I'd like you to piss off and stop being so damn persuasive."
He chuckled, shaking his head at me as if i was being entirely trivial, before sliding an alcoholic beverage of a kind I couldn't recognise and probably wasn't even legal due to the amount of 'herbal tea' was probably mixed up with this shit. I wasn't in at all the mood to give a damn though.
I drank it regardless, because I was stupid enough to listen to anything Pete Wentz said these days, as now I found myself sat at a bar in the venue of Fall Out Boy's show. And somehow, somehow he'd even managed to get me to agree to let his lips wrap around my dic- yeah, of course he'd taken me up on the naked offer. I should have seen that coming, but of course I didn't in time at the very least.
Pete was a sneaky bastard, okay.
They'd (Fall Out Boy, I mean - not the pre-show action. I wasn't the time to give compliments to people like Pete Wentz at all, even if they were totally indirect) actually been quite good, if there wasn't the fact that I was constantly cringing as Pete made a habit of winking at me throughout their set and especially throughout the songs that were rather blatantly about me.
And now the goddamn after party had begun, which involved a lot of nakedness and vodka and I never thought I'd say this, but I actually wanted to sneak off home with Pete, even if home involved the bedroom, because whatever Pete could pull off in there was with no doubt better than this.
"Persuasive is my speciality, along with hot ass irrestible manwhore, of course." Yeah, unfortunately for me.
"I disagree." I sighed, pushing the words off with a slight slur as if this was nothing to me. Well Pete's utter lack of modesty was nothing new at the very least, but whether I could put up with it was still an obvious no, and it was nothing but an obvious no that Pete was awfully proud of to the point of utter ridiculousness even.
"And yet you still did me." He reminded me in quite possibly the most annoying manner, but then again annoying was the Pete Wentz speciality.
"And yet I did." I reminded myself with a shake of my head and a reminder to myself that regardless of dodginess, I definitely needed something to drink.
I sighed, downing the remainder of my drink, and groaning instantly at the headache that followed moments later. This was a bad idea and there was little doubt about that, but of course there was also very little I could do about it now except pray like a good little bitch that that this party would somehow end at some point.
"You are quite good, you know." He said into the silence, and I found my way watching the way his eyes caught the light in an amused expression, with subtly pissed off undertones to add to the effect of course.
"In general or...?"
"In bed." Of course, my suspicions were nothing but concerned, as I would have guessed with this being Pete Wentz and all and the fact that he was nothing short of a dirty little bastard.
"Yes, I am." I let myself take this one, of course, because although it was wrapped around Pete's tongue, it was still somehow a compliment and despite deeper and possibly seductive meaning, I was going to be a blunt idiot and take it at face value, because I could.
"I'm better though." There's Pete's amazing modesty again on show, of course my favourite part of him as well, without a single doubt.
"I disagree." I watched his eyes as they sparkled under the light and tried my best not to notice his totally overly dilated pupils, because that was something I just wanted to ignore and possibly even drink enough to forget about. I'm a great boyfriend, as you can tell.
"You're wrong."
"Hmphh..." I sighed, letting him be right, because he was and I was too tired and not quite stubborn enough to argue against that this time. Pete winked at me before letting the corners of his lips relax and sliding another drink in my direction, and this time I took even less hesitation within taking the first sip. This one definitely tasted dodgy.
This first one had of course, but at least that one was trying to hide it where as this one was practically screaming "LSD HEROIN WEED COCAINE DRUGS GIMME DRUGS" or something of that nature. I kind of presumed that was how Pete's brain worked, but then again, I later decided that may that wasn't something I wanted to think about excessively.
"I guess our opinions differ." I couldn't help but slur my words by now, especially with the last drink because that one wasn't even trying to hide the fact that it was spiked.
"You're drunk." He chuckled.
"Well spotted. I couldn't help but commend him like the nice little boyfriend I am.
"You've only had like two drinks you goddamn lightweight."
"Yes, two drinks and whatever the hell you've spiked them with. It smells very illegal by the way. How do you even get this stuff?"
"Damn." He chuckled, winking at me and I once again found myself in the gun to the head situation where I couldn't actually tell if he was joking or not.
"You are joking right?" I wasn't expecting to get a straight answer by any means, but of course I was determined enough to try nonetheless. Or maybe I was just as damn stubborn as Pete himself. Who knows?
"Definitely... not at all."
Dear god, this guy would actually be the death of me - he would cause my hanging and the impaling of my spinal cords on a stick and god he was going to enjoy it- well, maybe only enjoy it if it was my metaphorical death, because if I was physically dead he'd have no one to watch Breaking Bad with and for someone like Pete that would definitely be a problem.
"Pete..."
"Shut up and kiss me, princess." And despite the blatantly stupid pet name he most certainly overused around me, I did. Because I was in love with him, probably. I went for that one, because I was too tired to keep my ego in check and make up some shit.
He tasted high; he tasted like alcohol, weed, and Pete at the same time. With a hint of sweaty lips and guitar playing experience.
He tasted like someone I should be running from and not falling in love with.
There was no point in running anyway, because despite how fit and healthy he insisted he was, he still could barely run after getting out of the hospital now, and as sadistic as it sounds it was awfully amusing.
"Honey what are you laughing at?" He breathed against my lips, pausing the tongue friction momentarily to exchange painfully awkward small talk that was nothing short of a goddamn Pete Wentz speciality.
"You... and how drunk you are."
"Hypocrite." He muttered, his hot breath upon mine.
"Yes, I do believe I am, honey." And then like mismatched and definitely breaking clockwork, our drunken kissing began again, my lips missing his entirely the first time, but by the second attempt, I got it spot on. I didn't even need to tell myself that because the moan that escaped his lips was definitely confirmation enough.
-
As the night went on, I found myself losing Pete in the crowd and almost making out with this Australian dude with a green Mohawk. It was kind of weird and I'm glad I had Pete as my boyfriend to use an excuse, even if that did sound awfully shallow.
I was pissed drunk - Pete of all people would understand, and as my spinning head directed my poorly conducted body around the venue, I somehow managed to end up happening upon a figure curled up in the corner; Pete, without a doubt.
I was excited to have finally found the one guy I vaguely trusted with this mess of illegalities, and sweaty bodies that spoke in the language of quickies in cupboards and horrible make out sessions that you could probably catch several STDs from within a few seconds.
"Pete!" I called out his name as I pushed through the heaving masses of bodies until I finally reached his curled up frame, but as I saw him, as my eyes fell upon his palm, I wasn't quite so excited to have seen him anymore, and as my heart practically fell out of my chest, I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to breathe anymore.
"Mikes..." He stumbled out, but his words were irrelevant as I eyed the little red capsules in his palm. Those little red capsules that had their purpose far too obviously printed all over them.
This was different to the herbal teas and scented candles, because really that was just messing about, whereas this... this was scary, because this reminded me of Gerard and I didn't want to go there again, especially now I was old enough to truly understand what was going on.
I kind of missed the innocent of my younger years sometimes, now being one of them, because otherwise I just couldn't forget... I couldn't forget what happened those years ago and how if Frank hadn't helped him fall in love with being alive... things would have gone very downhill.
And that can't happen to Pete, in fact, I won't let it happen to Pete. I'm going to be world's biggest stubborn bitch about it as well.
"Did you take those?" I pointed towards the pills, one bony finger crawling out in a direct and blatant line of accusation. I inhaled what felt like all the air in the room before I painfully waited for his reply.
"Why do you want some because you can't have any- they're mine. Go get some off of that guy there, yeah him he's giving them out," I watched as Pete vaguely gestured to a guy with short blonde hair that looked pretty stoned himself - stoned enough to give people free drugs anyway. "Yeah, him- I can’t remember his name, but I doubt he'll mind, you know-"
"Pete! I don't want any drugs!" I snapped out far too loudly, catching the attention of quite a few people nearby. Most of them went back to ignoring me within seconds, but of course there was always one, one that didn't, and this was somehow the worst one of all.
"Sugar, you are wasting your time at a party." A voice I recognised somehow spoke out and I turned to see Pete's 'dealer'.
"Yes, I've got it now!" Pete hiccupped out what I hoped was alcohol, but I couldn't tell or even trust him for that matter now.
"Petey are you okay?" Petey? What the hell? Who the hell was this dude? And most importantly just how high was he? Actually scratch the latter, because I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know the answer to that, despite the fact it seemed as if I'd be getting one regardless of choice.
"Yes, I remembered - you're Bertie Bert- Bert McCracken!" And then my jaw dropped and my heart sank because this couldn’t be the Bert McCracken, but really there was only one Bert McCracken and despite the obvious appearance change, this demeanour was unmistakeably him.
"Bert McCracken..." The words fell from my lips, the world seeming to crack and collapse under my feet, as I barely managed to keep my internal organs... internal.
"Yeah, Bert this is my boyfriend, Mikey Way." And then he met my eyes with a look of knowing, because now he's remembered me, and we're really in shit now. We're in the goddamn biggest shitload of shit ever and we have to go.
I grabbed Pete by the hand and dragged him out, "yeah sorry, we've got to go."
-
"Why did we leave?" He slurred, clearly not sober enough to bring any sense or sanity to the situation whatsoever, which really wasn't looking good to say the least.
"That's Bert McCracken. Bert McCracken." His eyes lit up and I think something connected in that head of his somehow. I was glad that at least he wasn't high enough to have forgotten who this asshole was. That was a positive at the very least, despite the fact I wanted to entirely remove him from existence more than anything.
"I got drugs from Bert McCracken- shit..." He let the words come out within an exhalation as if he hadn't quite got them through his narcotics clouded system yet. But saying them out loud like that really brought them into reality and that scared me like nothing else, because I didn't want to think about this, not at all.
"Why were you even taking pills in the first place- look, Pete, this is not good, okay?" I continued, trying to get the important message into his head, because I wasn't letting Pete go down the path Gerard did. I just wouldn't let that happen.
"Mmm..." He sighed, clearly no giving the slightest care in the world to the words that left my lips. "They’re fun, okay." Shit. I felt hopeless now; like I couldn't stop him, almost paralysed within both my words and my actions. I think it was just the alcohol and whatever else that was in with it causing me to react quite so dramatically.
"Drugs are dangerous." I felt like I was teaching an unenthusiastic and entirely government funded high school personal development class, but I was trying to get an important message across here, even if it was one that refused to be heard.
"I know." He admitted as if it was nothing, which evidently to him it damn well seemed to be.
"Pete you could die!" I argued my point further but still it had no effect.
"I don't care - we're all going to die someday. I might as well make the best of what I have left, you know." What did he mean?
"Pete you're not going to die for a long time - it's these drugs that are what's going to kill you- please stop." I was begging now. Begging for him, couldn't he just step off that goddamn pedestal he's stuck on and understand that he's hurting me with this?
"It's not a problem, Mikey - this is just a party thing, you know fun? Have you heard of that recently or is your head still stuck up that ass of yours?"
"This is a fricking problem, Pete. They are goddamn addictive and you'll just mess your whole life up like this and I don't want to watch you do that." I don't want to watch somebody else do that. "I can't."
He simply scoffed, as if I was being nothing short of ridiculous and not entirely rational and maybe in fact just trying to save his life. "Like you know shit about anything, Mikey." He snapped at me, his words spiked with a poisonous tone. "This isn't drug abuse, or overdose, or a goddamn suicide attempt. You know that - I'm just having the fun that your loser virgin ass can't have."
"Pete, just let me explain-" I protested, pushing the harshness of his words aside, and ignoring just quite how they did hurt, because they hurt; they cut like carving knives into flesh.
"No, let me. If you want to learn about any of those things that you accused me of this isn't how about you just go and go ask that brother of yours, huh? The one that wanted to take Bert McCracken up the ass, yeah. Ask him."
I went paler than pale, I went ‘Pete Wentz just threw my whole world and everything to shit’ pale. I could barely breathe for the first few seconds, my respiratory system halting entirely to cater for the fact that my head was just about to roll right off my shoulders.
"Piss off you asshole, I hate you!" I screamed in quite possibly the most mature way before storming off inside and grabbing the nearest and strongest looking alcoholic beverage before downing it all in one go and generally regretting it afterwards.
But I didn't care.
My head spun as thoughts of Bert and Pete ran around my head and how I had to warn Gerard about Bert being back in town, but I couldn't put that on him not now with Frank and now he was finally happy but I have to, because Bert could mess everything Gerard had up more easily and much worse than I could.
But I couldn't make decisions in this state, my head spinning and my heart leaping out of my chest as the strings tore apart in aid of Pete Wentz and his goddamn ego. I should have ran, I should have just ran, but now everything’s gone to shit and my heart's heavier than a goddamn rock.
My heart's weighing me down, pulling me away from consciousness and as my head takes one final spin, I'm gone down on the floor, the sounds of the venue blurring out in the background as my eyes shut securely, putting a locked gate on the hell outside.
-
I woke up in my own bed, to my own surprise greatly, as the memories came back within an instant reminding me as to just what had actually occurred last night, and the moment I was reminded, I couldn't help but drag myself out of bed and leg it downstairs, still in a shirt and my boxers.
i was surprised to find Gerard, Pete, and Frank sat in the kitchen all drinking coffee and looking rather grim, leaving me to wonder exactly what in the way of conversation, had gone down between them.
Gerard noticed my presence first, but Pete was the first to speak, his eyes connecting with mine in what appeared to be a heart wrenchingly sincere apologetic glance.
"Mikey, god, I am really sorry - I was drunk out of my mind. It's just like sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills, you know?" He sighed, choosing poetry once again to wind me around his anger and I hated how it worked, because it did.
"Yeah, it's okay. I forgive you." I just watched Gerard awkwardly as I decided against coffee and simply snuggled into Pete, far too tired for any form of arguing. He was cuddly and I loved him, so you know, this option was easier.
"I love you, goddamn." He pressed a kiss against my neck and I giggled and blushed, noting Gerard's bemused expression out of the corner of me eye.
"I love you too, Pete."
"Well..." Gerard let out a sigh and then Pete somehow got the hint and thank god he jumped away from me.
"I can't get over the fact that my little brother actually went to a party though." Gerard grinned like an idiot on crack and I rolled my eyes, feeling just a little sick in my stomach as memories of what actually happened at said after party resurfaced like a lake lurking monster.
"I was kind of forced into it, okay." I confessed, looking up at Pete with big eyes that I hoped would strike some form of guilt into him, but of course Pete was an oblivious heartless bastard and barely even noticed my glances.
"Nah, it was obligatory." Pete reminded me, winking in probably the least subtle way known to mankind.
"Same thing."
Gerard chuckled, raising his eyebrows as he glanced between the two of us with an amused expression. "The last time you went to a party was when you were six and it was mine. You were a compulsory guest. I didn't even want to invite you."
"My heart is broken now." I pouted and faked sadness, looking absolutely ridiculous but really, I couldn't care at all.
"Aw you little dork." Pete grinned like an utter idiot and I couldn't help but return that grin, because damn he was just too cute sometimes.
"Shut up."
"Make me-"
"Later guys, later." Frank butted in, with widened eyes, but I didn't get what he was talking about other than being the world's biggest hypocrite. Oh wait, the hallway. I rolled my eyes to myself like an absolute idiot but I didn't care.
"Hypocrite." I picked him up on it of course, being the great friend I am and all that shit.
"Gee's fault." Frank grinned, blaming my brother instantly like the good little boyfriend he was.
"Ahem!" Gerard mocked offense, raising his eyebrows at Frank.
"The party was great though, you know. So was the show, the goddamn show was amazing if I say so myself." Pete gloated like an idiot and I couldn't suppress a chuckle, just to piss him off of course, because he was just so damn arrogant sometimes and it was fucking adorable.
I looked up at Pete suddenly, a thought hitting my head. It was a thought I didn't want to remember - a thought that I didn't want to be a thought, to even exist at all, and all before I could stop myself three stupid all telling words stumbled between my slightly ajar lips, "does he know?"
"Know what?" Gerard stopped still, knowing immediately that this was directed at him. We sat in silence as I scowled at Pete. He didn't - Pete didn’t tell him.
No, Pete couldn't tell him, of course he couldn't tell him though, and I shouldn't expect him to tell him. I'd have to, as much as I hated to break the resurface of Bert McCracken to Gerard now he was just so happy, I was just going to have to.
"Alright, who's pregnant?" He finally said, looking between the two of us with a suspicious gaze.
We all laughed at that, and Frank pulled Gerard back into his side with a, "shush, I am."
It was my turn for the bemused expression as Frank practically gave my brother a hickey in front of my very eyes. Which was something I'd definitely not like to think about more than it was entirely necessary.
"Gerard..." Pete let out a deep sigh of breath and Gerard almost pulled away from Frank a little. "Everything is okay, just fine - don't panic, but we- well something happened last night at the show, the after party and-"
I couldn't listen to this anymore and interrupted Pete's drivel with the only two words Gerard never wanted to hear. "Bert McCracken."
And I regretted it instantly. The whole world seemed to slowly crumble away between us and from the look in Gerard's eyes, I was scared he might just drift away entirely, slowly fading into nothingness as if he was never there, the name 'Gerard Way' being nothing more than a whisper.
Gerard went as white as a ghost and his eyes widened to the size of the moon. He glanced between Pete and I before getting up and leaving, without a word without an explanation. And with the shattering of both hearts and minds in all of us.
And then the worst words trailed from Frank's lips, "who's Bert McCracken?"
He didn't know.
"Go after him, Frank." Pete let out a sigh, leaning back into me. "He needs you."
He didn't know.
-
About an hour or so later, Gerard and Frank returned, hands clasped tightly together and it was clear that both of them had been crying, but a broadened grin / borderline smirk was displayed smugly over Gerard's lips. "Hey, Mikes, get that book of yours - we've got some burning to do."
"Oh my god - you are not." His words clicked together almost instantly as I placed together as to exactly what my brother was intending to do, and somehow I wasn't entirely as opposed to the ideas as my sanity reckoned I should have been.
"Yes I am." He winked and Pete's face lit up stupidly, he too getting it within instants, and knowing Pete that probably wasn't really a good sign.
"I have this picture of Ryan Ross we could burn - it's hardly the real thing, but-"
"Yes! That will do perfectly!" Gerard exclaimed all too enthusiastically and Frank couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Gerard's hate obsession with Ryan was actually concerning me now, but I let it slide, considering I hated the guy too.
"You really do hate him, don't you?" Frank grinned, clearly far too amused by the whole situation.
"Yes, yes I do." Gerard sighed. "I'm allowed to though." i wasn't quite so sure about that but if Frank didn't seem to mind then it wasn't mine to worry about, well at least in my books anyway.
"Of course."
"Shall I get marshmallows?" I asked, changing the subject and gaining a few confused looks. "Pyromania makes you hungry okay!"
Gerard chuckled, clearly amused by the fact that I actually needed to eat, "sure. Hey, Frank, get your guitar I want you to play everyone that song-"
"No..." Frank's cheeks blushed crimson.
"It's good and you need always that guitar person at a campfire, huh?" I raised my eyebrows. Frank wrote a song? As much as I respected Frank's shyness, I did let curiosity get the better of me and accepted that I damn well just wanted to read it.
"Yeah," Pete butted in, probably just to piss off Frank, because Pete was just so awfully nice to everybody.
"I hate you all." Frank stormed off, presumably in search of said guitar. Which I wondered why was over here, not in his house, because I damn well hoped that Gerard hadn't got a guitar fetish or something because damn that's really weird.
As Pete busied himself with the Ryan Ross photo representation and the later burning of it, which most likely would end badly, but whatever, if it made Gerard happy right now, I couldn't care. I made my way over to my brother. "Hey..." I mumbled in a hushed tone, catching his attention instantly. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He sighed, letting out a whole wind turbine's gust if air all at once, "it's nothing - it's just bad memories, I guess. He doesn't know me anymore - it doesn't matter."
"The thing is Pete drunkenly introduced me by my full name and then he just looked at me... I'm scared, Gee." I took a breath similar to the one Gerard just exhaled. "He remembered me - he knows who I am and I'm scared that he'll come after you or something, I don't know, just promise me you'll try your best to stay safe, yeah?" And for once, I felt like the older brother, and honestly it hurt.
"Yeah, Mikes." He met my gaze, his eyes open and sincere - trustworthy. "I promise. But don't worry; he didn't care about me then, he won't care about me now." Gerard sounded like he was convincing himself for the most part, but I didn't want to upset him further so I just let it be.
"And if he does, his ass will get kicked for sure." I reassured him, grinning a little.
"Frankie took it so well though." Gerard met my eyes. "I told him all of it and he just understood entirely..." He seemed almost shocked at the fact that Frank didn't reject him or think he was weird, when it was obvious that Frank would never even consider either of those things.
"Frank loves you, he wouldn't think of you differently regardless."
"I don't deserve him oh my god." Gerard sighed, as he grabbed an enormously big bag of marshmallows that I wasn't even aware that we owned prior to now, but whatever, I guess mum does buy the oddest of things from time to time, and maybe these have even been sat at the back of our cupboards for a year or so now.
They don't look dodgy though, so they're probably okay. And if they're not, Pete can eat them - he probably won't mind.
"Shut up, Gee, you know you do." I met his eyes, sternly.
"Frank, he's just perfect and I'm just-"
"Hey, what's all this about me?" Frank returned with the aforementioned guitar in tow, his eyebrows raised at Gerard as he walked over, a smirk laden upon his face with of course the utmost honesty.
"Just saying how perfect you are." Gerard admitted, blushing a little as his eyes trailed to the floor.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Awh." Frank planted a quick kiss on his cheek before pointing outside, thankfully before something fifty shades of grey esque ensued in front of my very eyes. "Look Pete's getting the fire going."
-
It had appeared that somehow Pete had in fact deforested the entirety of the amazon or the looks of it for the bonfire, judging by the mountainous pile of wood he was recklessly covering in gasoline before me.
"This is going to go badly." I sang in some sort of sadistic sing song voice, being very pessimistic in an optimistic manner that was just nothing short of hypocrisy.
"Yeah for Ryan Ross' face." Gerard smirked.
"Cool it, Gee." Frank murmured, and I just shook my head, still clutching Pride and Prejudice in my hand.
"And we have fire!" Pete exclaimed and I turned to see the wood pile erupting into flame with the help of one match. Shit. And here we begin - I could probably put emergency services on speed dial here, you know - just in case. We will need something by the end of this, even if it's just psychological support.
"Adios, Ryan you bastard." Pete laughed, throwing the photo onto the fire and I realised that burning exes’ photos was really a ridiculously typical teenage girl situation, which only made this all the more amusing.
"To Satan!" I yelled, throwing Pride and Prejudice onto the fire, joining in with the ridiculous pyromaniacal spirit because why not?
Why the hell not?
-
"Frankie!" Gerard tugged on his boyfriend's sleeve, "play the song now."
"Damn, alright, Frank got his guitar and tried out a few chord shapes with his fingers before getting ready, strumming a few times and then singing. And dear god he was good.
Caught staring again
Like a deer in the headlights
When I can't move fast enough
I take a hit for the team
Pretty girl is blushing
I can't tell if she's disgusted
Laughter starts to swell
Like someone gets the joke
Bell rings
I make my escape
It helps a little
But doesn't save
Beat down's a common thing
It happens every day
Maybe I'm just strange
Cause I don't change schools
Maybe I like the abuse
Or maybe I'm just like you
Another confrontation
You've got something to prove
Your girl can't tell how tough you are
When you beat me up in the boy's room
I made a big mistake
But I can't help who I like
This may not cost my life
But I am branded forever lame
This was not my decision
You were born with good looks
And a solid right hook
Whining makes no difference
You bruised my eye
It doesn't hurt at all
One day I'll rise above
And you will take a fall
I may be beat today
But I will survive
I'll get up off the ground
Stand tall and fight
My eyes don't hurt at all
I would rather die
Than be your whipping boy
School year's almost over
Summer is one day closer
As God is my witness
I will never be a victim again
"Damn that's good!" I exclaimed aloud and Frank couldn't help but suppress a stupidly smug grin, and I wasn't even going to point it out to him because damn he should be proud of that.
"Told you." Gerard grinned like an idiot, or well just as stupidly proud boyfriend.
"Why didn't I get one that can serenade me?" Pete grumbled and I gave him a friendly shove, because I knew he damn well appreciated me really, or at least I hoped he did.
"I'm sure he can rustle up some poetry with that English degree though." Gerard grinned, winking at me like the cocky little bastard he was.
"I will not hesitate to shoot you." I warned him, my eyes like bullets and my gaze connecting with his, ready to fire if one more word left his lips- but then, I had a better idea entirely.
"That's mean- hey!" Gerard protested as I threw a marshmallow in his direction, my plan succeeding wonderfully.
He threw one back without hesitation. "How do you like that?"
"Damn." I mumbled, grabbing a marshmallow and reloading, however my marshmallow landed directly within Gerard's fingers. Just my luck.
"Ha." He threw it back, however it missed me entirely and by some miracle Pete managed to catch it in his mouth. Which was probably just a little disgusting to eat seeing as it had been tossed around, but it was apparent that Pete was hungry and damn well just didn't care, so I let him be.
"No eating the missiles." Frank grinned, aiming one of his own, hitting right at Pete in the eye.
"Don't mess with me, Iero." Pete snapped, not hesitating to aim one right back, just more than a little pissed off.
"Don't hit him." Gerard pouted, kissing Frank and leaving both Pete and I to pelt them with legions of marshmallows until they eventually separated.
"I hate you guys." Gerard grumbled, pulling a marshmallow out of his hair and looking at the pink lump in disgust as he held it in his palm before throwing it in my direction but missing entirely.
"I'm your brother-" I protested.
"I don't care what you say- I'm pretty sure I can still hate you. This is a real life example, take that Einstein."
"No, I mean I can just murder you in your sleep easier."
"I doubt you'll want to chance going in my bedroom again though, Mikes." He winked at me.
"Shit! Don't remind me." Pete let on a perplexed expression as Frank's face alternated between a couple of shades of deep red.
"What happened?"
"You don't want to know, Pete." I assured him, but being Pete, he did want to know and that was entirely the probably.
"I'm just saying I should leave a sign on my door whenever I'm sucking my boyfriend off in my room." Frank continued to blush like hell.
Pete laughed, "aw Mikey," he noted my terrified and forever scarred expression.
"I will never be the same again."
And with all of this, just the four of us, everything being okay, I'd nearly managed to forget about what happened at that show last night.
I say nearly, because no matter how hard I tried there was just something that I couldn't forget, something far more important than the rest of this mess as well, because of course it had to be that way.
"I don't care - we're all going to die someday. I might as well make the best of what I have left, you know."
Something just wasn’t right and I hated that I didn't know what.
I just knew that it was important, and of course that only made my head spin further. Because Pete wasn't usually like this; it was all kind of out of character, and I didn't care for some detailed psycho analysis.
I just wanted the answer to a simple question.
Why?
Hey guys:) Thanks for reading this chapter, and I really hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, you know I'd love to know, so votes and comments are fab hehe;) Love you guys<3