Lost and Found [Frerard] {ON HOLD}

Chapter One

"Hey man, wanna go out to some bar tonight?" A friend of mine, Pete, asked. Oh, how can I describe Peter Wentz? Oh, he's got pink hair. I know right? So flamboyant. He's a pretty radical bass player. I've known him since I ran away, about six months ago. We met at some free banquet for people in town who didn't have much money. He was in the same shoes as me, just about disowned for being gay. Yes, my parents threw me out- well I ran away- he was actually disowned. Oh the story? It's a pretty long one.

Pete came out to his parents, Catholic, mind you. They thought it was some sort of 'sin' that needed to be exorcised out of him with holy water and biblical verses. Honey, that don't work. He then proceeded to explain to his mother and father that this wasn't something that could be 'removed' from your soul. You are born with this character trait and it can't be erased. That would be like saying:

'Hey! Hey. Your hearts perfectly fine. All pumping the right directions and whatnot. But, sadly, we need to take it out because it's the wrong color. Operation begins now! You won't be asleep and no painkillers.'

You can't just do that to a person. That's like breaking the laws of doctors. That would hurt a hell of a lot. I'll recall my story later, as I am being ripped from my thoughts as another friend of mine, Brendon, is talking. He has the world's largest, most distracting forehead in the world.

"Will there be strippers? Or is it a gay club? Because hell man, I wanna see some boy on boy action." Brendon says.

How can I decribe Brendon Urie? He's got a huge-ass forehead- or should I say five, or maybe six-head. He has some interesting suits. Some pretty sparkly jackets. And some interesting sunglasses. He's gay, as well. Well, technically, bisexual. His parents are fine with it, he just goes out a hell of a lot. He hangs out with us just about every night. Sometimes we stay at his house but I can't because my parents are still looking for my homosexual-ass to exorcise the shit out of it to make it a heterosexual-ass. Or as they say 'normal.'

"Brendon, you sly dog. Of course it's a gay club. I'm no idiot." Pete replies. Him and his jokes, my god.

Pete is one of those interesting characters that likes to make a lot of jokes and plays pranks on people, but on the inside, he's a sensitive and romantic little fuck who had a crush on this kid named Patrick Stump. He's shorter than me... yes I'm short, 5'6". He's 5'4" I think. Yes, he is more of a midget than the almighty Frank Iero!

"Hey Pete, is you-know-who going?" I say as I wiggle my eyebrows and add a little 'wink' to the end.

"Actually, yes. He is... I actually got him to leave his room for once." Pete said, with a smirk. Oh, god. You gotta love him.

"Who's you-know-who? I wanna meet this kid." Brendon says, oh lord.

"Brendon I'll tell you later-" Pete tries to answer but I cut him off.

"You-know-who is a guy named Patrick Stump, he's shorter than me, and Pete's got a massive crush on him! I wonder how drunk they'll be before they make out at the club, dude." I respond, I am being evil to Pete, my only real friend right now- other than Brendon and a few others. I don't give two shits, not even one, right now.

"Awww... little Peter Wentz has a crush! How cute!" Brendon says, patting Pete on the head. Those two are pretty interesting.

"Hey- what did I miss?" Another friend of mine, Bob, said. Bobbert is pretty interesting as well, he's got a lip ring. He takes no shit. Look everyone, it's fucking Bob Bryar, the man who has a lip ring and takes no shit from anyone.