Diary Of The Lovely Firework

Page 1

December 31, 2004/January 1, 2005

We finally got accepted to travel on Vans Warped Tour, so naturally wherever someone gets good news, they go party. Which is exactly what I did. The bar was super crazy, yeah it was new years eve but add the Fall Out Boy band and crew with the My Chemical Romance band and crew it gets a little crazy.

I'm more of a quiet person, totally okay with sitting at the bar with a beer, enjoying the energy that buzzed in the small bar.

"The ball's gonna drop soon!" Everyone cheered, raising bottles and gulping down toxic amounts of alcohol. I love times like this, times when everyone is happy and a family.

"It's almost twelve" my friend, Pete, informed. I didn't know Pete well besides the fact that he's the bassist of Fall Out Boy. He carried himself quite confidently with his tight black skinny jeans, plain black hoodie and hair that swooped over his forehead but didn't cover enough to make him seem shy. I, on the other hand, hid myself in tight skinny jeans, a long black jacket and glasses that rested on my nose, protecting me from the world. "who ya gonna kiss when the ball drops?" he asks.

I didn't really plan to kiss anyone. It was a meanless tradition that everyone seems to do with no real reason behind it. I was between girlfriends at the time and after what happened with the last one, I wasn't really planning on getting on attached. "Gross, cooties" I joke, scruching up my nose.

Pete laughs, leaning against the bar. "It's a tradition Mikeyway. It doesn't have to mean anything. Just a silly kiss to start off the new year."

People in the bar began to chant a countdown to the new year very sloppily. I was drunk, but the others were way past the point of drunk. "10...9...8..." The crowd slurred, splashing their drinks everywhere. Pete and I joined in the sloppy counting fest, though my mind blurred and I'm pretty sure I wasn't even saying real numbers.

"ONE!" Everyone put emphasis on the last number before turning to their partner, placing a rough, drunken kiss on their lips.

What surprised me was that I gained one too. Unknown, chapped lips, soaked with the taste of vodka and cranberries collied with my lips. The lips pulled away, revealing who was behind the devious act. To my surprise it was the one and only Pete Wentz.

"A silly kiss that doesn't have to mean anything" he smiled, before being called away by his drunken friend. That random little action definitly called for something way stronger than a beer, something like a bottle of vodka. Which, is exactly what I did. Succesfully forgetting what happened the rest of the night.

Of course, the next morning I woke up in my bed, fully clothed with only a note written on my hand in sharpie that read: "goodbye for now". At the time, I didn't bother with it since the hangover was killer and I needed some asprin and maybe a magical unicorn.

I couldn't help but touch my lips, still feeling his lips on mine. I've never been gay and I certainly don't have anything against them. I see how Gerard looks at Frank, totally disregarding the girl on his arm. It's honestly not my problem and if he did love Frank, I'd still love my brother. But when I think about myself, I come up blank. I've had girlfriends but they never seem to work.

That was the last time I questioned it until June.