living's just a waste of death

perfect strangers and james dean

gerard was packing. for college. which mikey didn't really understand because he wasn't leaving until october. it was still summer, and when mikey asked about it, gerard just said he "wanted to be ready." because gerard always talked about college like it meant he was going to die. he wasn't. but it sure did seem like it.

either way, mikey was allowed to be at least a little bit upset. he actually liked his brother and enjoyed being around him, so knowing he'd be gone soon made mikey feel all fucked up. they had shared a room until gerard started highschool and they never really did anything without each other. gerard's friends were mikey's friends, and mikey's friends were- well, he didn't really have any of his own. but the point is, they shared too much of their lives with each other.

so as weird as it felt, mikey helped gerard pack. not everything, just some books and art supplies that he wouldn't need for the next couple months. even though it felt weird. so weird and different and mikey didn't like it.

but still, he had nothing better to do. the tv in his room was broken or something and his phone was missing for some reason (he seriously looked everywhere and could not find it). but maybe missing wasn't the right word. because right outside the front door, pete wentz was fucking spiraling about that "missing" phone.

and, it had occurred to pete quite a few times that he was an idiot. a complete and total idiot. he was standing on the way's front porch of their house. and yeah, he had been here just a few days earlier to drop mikey off after the party, but this time he actually got out of his car and walked up the sidewalk. to the actual door.

he got this crazy feeling like he shouldn't have been there, which was really weird because he actually didn't even know mikey. not really. they hung out one time and now he was just returning a cellphone, which any normal person would do. but he felt nervous enough to puke in the bushes which was really really weird.

either way, pete kinda glitched. he definitely wasn't as put together as he looked. he was thinking mikey would probably be pissed because it had been days and he was probably dysfunctional without a phone. and he was wondering, really wondering why he was so goddamn nervous. he was just returning a cell phone so why couldn't he just ring the doorbell?

and it took a while, but eventually he got over himself and his excuses and raised his knuckles to the door. he knocked three times. maybe in an unintentional rhythm and waited. but he must've been expecting mikey to answer, or even gerard- because he was surprised to see an older, much older man open the door.

"hello- oh, you're dale's boy- i think gerard is busy, but i'll let him know you stopped by." and pete was kinda weirded out by that but he put on a smile, one that he used for adults specifically. "actually i- uh, is mikey here?"

the man looked at him like he was actually genuinely stunned. "oh- sorry, kid," he laughed, "michael's friends don't usually come by." then he ducked his head back into the house, yelled for mikey, and pete heard a faint "yeah?" from inside the house- and the man replied, saying that the wentz boy was here to see him. to see mikey. god, that sounded so weird.

then mikey was stumbling out, replacing his father in the doorway. he looked sleepy but then his eyes widened like a cartoon character when he saw that, yeah okay, that's pete wentz.

he hadn't seen him since that day after the party when pete had given him a ride home, he offered him a pair of sunglasses that were big enough to fit over his normal glasses to "help with the headache." because they were both hungover and all mikey had been saying was how his head fucking hurt. and when he said thanks, pete muttered, "anytime, mikey way" because everyone liked to call mikey by his full name, and apparently pete got the memo.