Lets Not And Say We Did

Eighteen

Pete needed some space after that bombshell. Finding out you might want to kiss a guy is... Hard to deal with. Especially when said guy was living and your house and allegedly wanted to kiss you too.

So Pete decided to go on a business trip to California. And that's using the word business very lightly. Of course he had a California headquarters for DCD2. But he managed that one from home. Only making semiannual trips to the actual business. But he needed to get away. And a trip to California, business or not, was definitely a good idea.

But now he was home. He could only be gone for so long. Those weren't his words, they were Ryan's. He second guessed bringing him along the moment their plane touched down in the sunny state. Ryan took every chance he could to keep an eye on Pete.

They ended up spending most of trip arguing in their shared hotel room. Yes, shared. Ryan insisted on it. And by insisted on it, he means he canceled his own room without telling Pete anything about it.

When Pete unlocked his front door, one of the maids instantly came up to grab his bag. He handed it to her. But Ryan never let anyone touch his bag. 'Because it cost more than your life insurance would be worth, honey'. Pete smiled when he heard his best friend's familiar line.

"But thank you though!" He called after the maid. He turned to Pete, who was smirking at him. "What? I did nothing wrong."

"I didn't say anything." His smirk evolved into a grin.

"You would think they'd learn after this long. Don't touch my fucking bags." Pete just kept grinning. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face. It isn't funny, Peter Wentz."

The doorbell rang. Pete turned to it confused. One of the maids rushed up again but Pete waved them away. He was glad they only worked three times a week.

"Are you expecting someone?"

Ryan thought for a second. "No."

Pete opened the door.

"Pizza delivery to the." He looked down to read the order "Wentz residence." He glanced back up. "Holy crap dude, you're Pete Wentz. I-uh. I use your headphones. A-And speakers. I'm saving up to to get that phone you're testing out."

"I'm honored. And I hope you're finding them satisfying."

"Totally.... Well my headphones broke a few days ago when I was skating and fell in this epic-"

"Well here." Pete dug in his pocket and pulled out two hundred dollar bills. "That should help with the pizza and the headphones."

"Whoa, I- yeah. Totally."

Pete took the pizzas from his hands and closed the door in his face.

"I hate teens." He opened the box on top. "You ordered pizza?"

"Nope!" Ryan glaced over into the box. "But I'm willing to eat- is that bacon?"

"Looks like it."

"But I'm willing to eat bacon." Ryan adjusted his bag in his hand and grabbed the medium sized box from Pete. Leaving him with only one.

"Ryan, that's not yours." He called after him as he took off for the right set of stairs.

"Is now." He called back.

Pete shook his head with a laugh. Well there's still one left. And no one else was here to order pizza besides Patrick. Should he take it up to him? Well, why not? Because he didn't feel comfortable around him after what happened. But he was going to have to suck it up soon. So he might as well do it now.

He headed up the left steps. Hoping that Patrick was given the room on the second floor as requested. Pete wasn't sure which room it was though. Until he heard the singing...

It was one of the... What was the word? Pete didn't want to say the sweetest sounds because there was nothing sweet about that voice. It was raw. It was harmonized. It was soulful. And it was, damn it, it was Patrick.

Pete followed the sound into one of the bedrooms. The door was closed but he opened it. It was his house after all. When he opened it, the first thing he noticed were the clothes thrown everywhere. Apparently Patrick was a messy boy. The next thing he noticed was the steam coming from the slightly ajar bathroom door. He must be taking a shower.

Pete placed the pizza on the bed next to a notebook. At least the bed wasn't a mess like the rest of the room. He took a few steps closer to the bathroom door. He definitely wasn't planning on going in. He just wanted to listen to that voice.

"What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?
What am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up but you're okay?
I'm falling to pieces!
I'm falling to pieces!
I'm falling to piiiiiieces!"

Pete swallowed. Holy shit that little guy in there was hurting. He felt like he was intruding. Listening to such a pained rendition of an already sad song. He needed to leave. Patrick was probably crying in there and he didn't do crying. That's what ended his relationships. Girls getting emotional.

He should probably leave a note or something explaining the whole pizza situation. He glanced around the messy room. Searching for a pen and paper. His eyes landed on the notebook on the bed. Perfect.

He walked over and picked it up. He could feel the pen between the pages of the notebook. He opened it to the page where the pen was. Pausing when the saw the page full of words. His eyes instinctively began reading.

*I tonight? I feel like being alone
If you don't mind, if you don't mind
Would you please be so kind
To close the door behind you?
Its been a long, long time since I've had
This line of doubt out loud.
I tonight? I feel like. I feel like... I feel
Everybody wants somebody who doesn't want them.
Who wants somebody else, baby
You want somebody
Oh you want someone
Somebody else. Somebody else
Listen, now don't get hurt
Don't you get hurt
A young man is a pulled pin looking for a grenade
A young woman will drive you places you never meant to go.
But epiphany is such a cliche.
Well there's plenty of fish in the wrong sea
Like there's a premium on mystery again
Hold me, distract me, dress me up in bubbles baby
Save me from the troubles of-

"What are you doing?"