living's just a waste of death

pilot

mikey wasn't really keeping track of what month it was- he wasn't a calendar type of person and it didn't matter anyway because everyone was too overheated to care what fucking month it was. sometime in summer.

because it was so hot- it felt like the sun was only a mile away. mikey couldn't even think of the last time it had been this warm in jersey- not a single person wanted to step foot outside to even get their mail, in fear of actually melting. like, scorching hot- mikey would've preferred to be living in hell, or like, arizona. he was covered in sweat. and his body was overheating. he figured today might not have been the best day to wear black, but it was too late to turn back around and go home. plus, he had a reputation to uphold.

mikey was headed to the diner right in the center of town. but of course his older brothers car was a piece of junk with a broken everything. it was probably hotter in the car then it was outside. and it definitely didn't help that mikey was crammed in with four other people.

there was gerard who was driving of course, and ray next to him in the passengers seat. ray was cool. well, not really but he was cooler then mikey and that was something. in the back was frank, on the left, who actually was cool by normal standards. he was only fourteen and had more tattoos then anyone else in their school. and bob on the right. mikey wasn't really sure why they hung out with bob, to be honest. mikey had to sit in the middle like always.

all of them were so squished together that they couldn't even tell who's sweat was who's. as soon as gerard pulled into the parking lot, the four others jumped out of the car immediately like their lives depended on it. which, they kinda did. heat strokes are a thing.

the diner looked pretty small, but on the inside it was so big that the entire highschool fit in like they did in the school cafeteria. the diner pretty much was a school cafeteria. everyone sat in their unassigned-assigned places according to their "social statuses" or "popularity" or whatever the fuck, like their town was some sort of molly ringwald movie. yeah, mikey sat in the back.

right in the middle is where the popular kids sat, with everyone else orbiting around them. the baseball team and their girlfriends- or boyfriends. because their was definitely more then one gay kid on the baseball team. one in seven people are gay or something right? or was that a myth? none of them would ever admit it, anyway.

at first glance they seemed like typical asshole jocks, but judging by the very few encounters mikey had with a couple of them, they were actually okay people. take, like, patrick stump for example. he was probably the sweetest, nicest person ever. mikey would know, they were lab partners the year before.

they were sort of friends, maybe for that semester at least, and patrick would usually go over to mikey's house after school to work on projects and stuff. which may have resulted in him developing a crush on mikey's black haired brother, who was three years older then the two of them and definitely not interested. though that didn't really stop patrick from pining.

anyway- they didn't typically have a lot in common. but they got along well enough. their conversations were mostly about their music tastes and their "brothers" because patrick had mentioned someone who he referred to as his brother but it didn't take long for mikey to figure out that just meant pete wentz.

pete fucking wentz. he'd moved to new jersey during middle school, mikey remembered that very clearly. his jersey number was twenty-seven and he was kind of the local town emo kid who managed to be actually be popular- emo and popular, the two didn't usually mix but pete seemed to be good at achieving the impossible. he'd won the title of "state champ" or something. which was strange because he used to be into soccer, then he switched- mikey didn't know why.

but mikey did know that pete always wore his varsity jacket over a punk t-shirt with confidence. and dignity. so, so much fucking dignity. he walked around the school with eyeliner-rimmed eyes, and all these girls would swoon over him and boys were dying to be him. mikey was nothing like that at all. thank god, actually.

well, okay, mikey really liked his punk t-shirts. but that was the only thing he could see in common with himself and pete. even less then mikey had with patrick. and they had never really spoken aside from one time- ages ago, at that.

mikey was like, the dictionary definition of introverted. which he totally hated. and quiet, which meant that no one outside his small group of friends even tried talking to him. which mikey was fine with that part, really. but people were always noticing pete wentz. he was pretty outgoing. or maybe he was just loud.

but "loud" meant the center of fucking everything. he was like the sun and everyone else was just stupid planets orbiting around him. mikey could never be in such close proximity to pete- the sun- he was surprised other people could without burning up.

but maybe that was okay, because mikey didn't actually give a damn about pete wentz. he just didn't really care as much as everyone else. he didn't have room to care. mikey knew that pete was of this made up, highschool authority. so yeah, it was all fake. it didn't mean anything. and mikey didn't care. that's what he told himself. and he believed it.

as mikey walked through the diner with his brothers arm around him to his unofficial-officially, unassigned-assigned seat, he passed by pete who was laughing in the center of it all, and the two of them couldn't care less about each other. mikey took his seat in the booth, asking gerard to order his food for him because he wasn't good at- just, like- people. talking.

things in mikey's life rarely ever changed. but now it was sort of changing. he was used to feeling secure. and it wasn't like he had a whole lot of people to count on. only gerard. but even he wasn't a constant. gerard would be at college soon. college. art school. partying and meeting people, leaving mikey to fend for himself in actual fucking hell. and gerard's college wasn't even that far but of course he had to live on campus. stupid.

the upcoming semester was mikey's second year of highschool. which, the first year wasn't bad. it wasn't good either. he got pushed into lockers and tripped in the hallway- though that was all. but that was only because nobody really had the guts to mess with a kid whose brother was a senior. no matter how unthreatening gerard actually was. but now him and ray were about to start college and mikey would be alone. frank was still around, but he was about to be a freshman- that was worse then what mikey had to deal with. pretty nerve wrecking. but frank knew how to pack a punch. mikey didn't.

he sat in the booth with his friends and listened to them talk, only joining in every once in a while. even in a crowded restaurant, it was still just the four of them. and bob...so technically five. just the five of them. just the five of them- in the back, nowhere near the center. and nobody else. a perfect bubble.

but mikey just so happened to be looking in that direction when patrick got up from his seat in the middle and started walking towards the back. he walked through the maze of tables until he was stood in front of the booth mikey was at.

it felt like forever until he said something, "hi, guys- hi, gerard!" is what patrick said though, and mikey wasn't looking at him but he could pretty much hear the blush on his face.

mikey mostly just didn't understand how someone could carry out such a lengthy conversation without wanting to leave or take a nap or jump out the window. and he respected patrick for being able to do it so often. but he still wasn't paying attention to whatever it was patrick was saying at that point.

in fact, mikey was paying so little attention that he didn't even notice who else had walked up- who was standing right next to him. he was playing with his food, minding his own business. then he heard a voice say "you guys should totally come to my party!" in a way that sounded forcefully enthusiastic, and it definitely wasn't patrick who said that- so when mikey looked up, he saw an iron maiden shirt and eyeliner-rimmed eyes. pete fucking wentz. then gerard was agreeing to go, and that had to have been the end.

first chapter?¿ hope you liked, comment and vote if you did -jj :)