Gray ⌬ Pete Wentz

This story is very unique in a way. The main character's name will not be established. Nor will their gender. I'm doing this just for the soul purpose of equality. I want to be sure both female and male readers are able to enjoy this in their own way. I will try not to put my writing in situations where a name is required, but occasionally it will pop up. I will leave those moments titled as "y/n". I know very unoriginal but hey, I'm trying my best here. The idea for this story was influenced by Pete Wentz's book "Gray" so they might be a bit similar. All rights go to Pete of course. Please feel free to express your love and/or hatred for my writing or the story line at any time. It's always appreciated. Remember, you are entitled to your own opinion, an opinion of which I am willing to accept. This is my first story so forgive me if I do a very mediocre job at this. I'll probably upload this once it's near completion but if my mind changes I promise I'll update regularly. The video basically explains who pete is in general, a lovable bag of douche. That's about it so, enjoy!

► Chicago, Illinois ◄
I was alone. I had no one, no where, nothing. I usually kept my thoughts to myself. Mom always taught me that way. Said it'd keep me out of trouble, but that didn't stop dad did it. It happened anyways, mouth shut or not. Mom was the only source of comfort in my life. I had no friends to run to. All I had was Mom and some headphones. Music usually kept me held together. I was like some knot, that would never be untied, a bomb that would never explode. All thanks to the Walkman my uncle bought me before he left to LA. Said he was gonna be a movie star, some sort of big shot in Hollywood. Haven't heard from him since. School got worse over the years. They all said I would be okay, but I don't think anyone can be okay when you're trapped in the corner of the bathroom stall hiding from your biggest fears. I wasn't the friendliest person, meaning I could never have friends. I'd just hurt them over and over. I decided being the loner in the back of the room wasn't so bad. I eventually made it through hel-I mean high school and moved on to college. Nothing too bad, too many sorority skanks everywhere but it's the same story wherever you go. I got really into pop punk music along those years. Joined a couple of bands here and there. Nothing serious. I still hadn't found that special someone my mom was always talking about. It seemed to me that I never would, and I was okay with that. I was okay with never finding love. Love is just a shout in the void. Although, that day something went through me. Something happened to my brain, my body, my heart, in a matter of seconds. That day was unlike any other.

The day I met him.

He was a different type of human, in fact I didn't believe he was human. He couldn't be. For 2001's horrible fashion styles, he looked amazing. He looked unique. He had a type of light caramel eyes that you could easily get lost in. He had a tattoo here and there, very colorful clothing. If that's how you want to put it. He sounds like a mess, but he was a beautiful mess. He had this voice that could make nations fall silent. He had an abnormal taste of music, varying from screamo to that new Britney Spears song. He was all over the place. And I loved that. His name was Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. He preferred Pete Wentz though. He was in a band that was apparently, at that time, some huge big deal. I'd never seen him before in my life. He played bass and screamed in some songs or something.

That day, he had just arrived. I was just about to graduate in two months. I had a couple of classes with him and found myself staring at the back of his head in most classes. In some classes I was at an eye contact range with him from across the room. I caught him staring at some point. We usually made frequent eye contact.

" fuck" , I would think.
" why did I fall for HIM"
" why NOW"
" oh god I'm screwed" was all that went through my head.

Classes eventually ended and I would find myself closer to him everyday. It got to the point where I occasionally greeted him with a "Hi!" and whatnot. I don't know how i ended up texting him. He had simply slipped his phone number in my bag and specifically made me promise I wouldn't post his number all over MySpace.
He was very poetic. Always had an interesting way of putting things. He also had a great sense of humor. He was like some perfect bundle of everything great.

Eventually I got a text from him:

Pete: "hey meet me at pizza shop around corner. Have a surprise :-) "

God did that boy love pizza. Turns out he had an excerpt from his future book he was planning on writing for me:

" The cocaine was largely symbolic. Phenylethylamine (PEA), the chemical responsible for the swooning and feelings of adoration, is structurally similar to cocaine. However when given the chance, many people choose cocaine over love. I wouldn't say that's a bad choice. The endorphins released during infatuation are similar to heroin. OxyContin, "the cuddling hormone" , most often found in new mothers and newlyweds, is like ecstasy; every touch tingles. I think I read that somewhere. Love exists in powder. Love exists in pills. We're all addicts."

I knew in that moment, he was special. I felt safe. I felt loved when in his arms. I felt like I had been given another chance at happiness. I knew from then on, he was my special someone.

" I was so alone and I owe you so much"- John Watson, Sherlock S2 E3