Wentz Motel (FOB Imagine Story ft. MCR and P!ATD)

Never Coming Home

FOR THOSE IT MAY INTEREST Hey guys! This is unfortunately/fortunately the last part of the "Wentz Motel". But, since this seemed to do pretty well, I'm working on another imagine book similar to this but based on American Horror Story: Murder House. It's called "All Time Horror Story: The Party Scene" (so original, right? I'm kidding, it's as original as this book's title is) and it's got a shit ton of people: All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, Blink-182, and a few others. If you're interested, I'll be posting an update in this book when it's out with the link. Cool? Cool. Thanks for reading and I hope you liked this book! -Rachael

Jamia paces back and forth in the kitchen, biting her nails - a nasty habit she never kicked. She's worried sick. She hasn't heard from either Frank or Gerard in weeks - they aren't picking up her calls, in fact, she's been sent straight to voicemail every time. She's called other people, asking if they have any idea where the two band members might be, but it's the same response every time. "No, I'm sorry."

Sitting in the living room, oblivious to the situation at hand, are Frank's daughters and son. Bandit is at home with Lindsey. The two girls are playing with some dolls, their voices higher to indicate they were speaking for the dolls while Miles smacks his little set of drums. The television is on in the background with the news, a breaking news banner swiping across the screen.

The news anchor gives a brief description as to what the story is about before cutting to the scene - the lake, where a correspondent stands in front of the old boat launch.

Behind the correspondent stands a group of men who work for a towing company, their truck's engine revving as they carefully pull out a car, your car, from the bottom of the lake.

Once your car emerges above the surface of the water, its wheels fall on the ground and the car is towed back until it's a few feet away from the edge of the lake. Water spills out of the vehicle from various crevices and cracks, slowly revealing you, Gerard, and Frank. Your bodies are - for the most part - preserved. Your hair and clothes cling to your pale gray skin, and your eyes hold a glossy stare as you look blankly out at the lake.

The news crew swarms the vehicle, getting as close as possible, ignoring the investigators and police yelling at them to back away.

Overhearing the news report, Jamia gasps and rushes into the room, past her girls. She falls to her knees and clings onto the TV, seeing her dead husband strapped in in the backseat of your car, the same glossiness to his eyes and the slash across his throat.

She screams out of agony and tears begin to flow from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks like rivers.

"Where's Daddy, Mommy?" Cherry asks her mom.

Jamia sniffles and glanced back at her daughters and son whose full attention she has, "He-He's never coming home."

Meanwhile, later that night, Pete is sitting in his room at the institution, carefully watching the person outside his door slowly drift off into sleep as they watched the news. He doesn't know why he has to have someone outside his room all the time, it's not like he's going to leave.

On the television, the news anchor speaks about a car being found at the bottom of the lake earlier this afternoon and how the three individuals in the car are being examined for causes of death and whether it was a suicide or a murder. A few people have stepped forward to identify the bodies, but information is not going to be released until a later date.

Pete's attention is brought from the TV when he hears the person snore. Good, he's asleep, He thinks before standing up and bending down to pull out a hat from underneath the bed, along with a pair of glasses he somehow managed to acquire. He slips the two accessories on and waltzes over to the window, leaning against the frame and sighing. The moon is shining brightly above, not a single cloud in the sky to obstruct the view of the many stars scattered about the dark blue blanket.

"It's sad..." He murmurs softly to himself, "...when a father has to speak the words that condemn his own son...but I couldn't allow them to believe that I would commit murder." He bites his lip and tilts his head down. "They'll put him away now...as I should have years ago. He was always bad. And in the end, he intended to tell them I killed those men and that girl. As if I could do anything except sing and look cute....Well, they know I can't do more than sing and look cute. And I won't. I'll just sit here, sing to myself, and look cute. Just in case."

He glances back over and shoulder and smirks, continuing to mutter to himself, "They're watching me. Well, I'll let them. They'll see what kind of a person I am."

He looks back out the window and starts humming to himself, a grin slowly stretching across his face.