𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙨 & 𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨 || Pete x Mike Fanfic

Chapter 5: Confusion and Hate

Quick Side Note: hello! I want to apologize for not updating this fic sooner, I was dealing with writer's block and I not too proud of this chapter, but I hope you'll still enjoy it. The formatting of this one is going to be a bit different so yeah! I also want to announce that I'll be making a bendy (Bebe x Wendy) fic and a Shellvin fic (Shelley x kevin) so if you're into those ships, please read them once they come out! Sorry for the long side note and enjoy !!! :))
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The sounds of pointless chatter and endless words that spilled from the teacher's lips echoed through the weary classroom. The tapping of lime-green nails occupied a particular boy, who else in this class would wear numerous chunky bat-themed rings with nails painted a obnoxiously bright green — It's was the one and only, Vampir. Now, the rhythmic tapping wasn't the only thing that kept the 'vampire's' mind lively, as the day went by he could only think about the days he spent with his past enemy — Pete. Neither boy couldn't deny that the past days were enjoyable with each other, learning new things that their middle school selves could never imagine, discussing music and other interests that somehow sparked a connection. Mike even caught himself listening to Ecstasy by Strawberry Switchblade this morning to say that he does listen to goth music, just like Pete. While the two did grow closer, they somehow stood far apart the second they reached school. Pete walked as if he was in a hurry when he walked into the bustling hallway, avoiding Mike the second he caught his gaze. ' Fine, I'll go to your house. Just to do the project and that's it, okay ? ' The Red Goth's words played back in his mind, Mike recalled that Pete only interacted with him because of the project. Would this mean that nothing has changed from middle school? Would they still have an unexplainable rivalry just because kids would confuse the two aesthetics? The confusing thoughts overflowed like a bubbling pot and it caused him to grow a minor headache, he let out a small groan before raising his pale and pasty hand. " Excuse me, may I go to the bathroom? " He asked, looking at the teacher with a puppy-eyed look without even realizing it. The teacher let out a huff and nodded, the lean boy stood from his seat and the chains on his pants clicked as he walked out. His jade eyes moved slowly, similar to his walking pace. His fingertips brushed the hallway wall and his walked aimlessly, his mind empty, yet felt full. The only thought that wandered through his mind was Pete Thelman. Pete Thelman, why? He had no reason to think about the boy who only puzzled him more and more with each encounter, but he was on his mind. He didn't notice his fingers move away from the wall, as his mind focused on the veiled goth. The image of Pete resting on Mike focused on the peacefulness on his face as he rested, his slightly parted lips that let out a light snore, his pushed back fringe that revealed scattered acne scars, his shut eyes that made him seem innocent and loving, his upturned nose that was decorated with a mole on the right side of it, everything about him seemed sweet and delicate — contrasting his gloomy, dark personality. These memories of the obsidian eyed boy played like a film, he remembered when Pete was talking about the music he likes. His raspy, yet soothing voice keep the fanged boy at ease, and he noticed how Pete wasn't tense when he spoke — he was at ease too. Suddenly, his felt his cheeks become warm. A tint of scarlet flourished across his face, his breath began to slightly quicken. ' Cmon Mike snap out of it ! He's been ignoring you all day and he said it himself, he's only talking to you because of the project — nothing else. ' He mumbled half of his thoughts to himself, fidgeting with his dyed hair. ' But, why is he on my mind? Why do I keep thinking about him and the way he talks? What's so special about his lips or his nose and... ' The flustered male's rush of confusion and nearly frustration mixed with was interrupted by the sound of a low bass guitar playing. Mike walked his way over to an empty classroom and the sound increased as he stepped, slowly his slim digits wrapped around the doorknob and he opened the door.

"Pete?"

The second Mike peered into the room, his eyes locked onto a set fingers strumming the bass's strings. Another set of fingers gripped onto the neck of the guitar, the vibrations of the bass amp ran through Mike's body. His eyes shifted up to who those fingers belonged to — Pete. His fringe curtained his focused face as his attention was fixated on the guitar and the guitar alone, he hummed along as he played. Mike stood in confusion but, it was mixed with a feeling of almost admiration. Pete paused and looked up with an almost exhausted expression, however, that expression quickly changed the second he saw Vampir. "Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." He grumbled, growing an annoyed expression. Glaring at Vampir, let go of the guitar in his hands and let it hang from the strap resting on his shoulder. "What do you want?" He groaned and pushed his dyed fringe aside, however, he quickly winced and moved his fingers away from his hair. Vampir stood in complete silence, he just stared and as he continued to stare he became flustered. After Pete took a glance at his hand that strummed the pomegranate-colored guitar, mixed with hints of inky black, he looked back at the flustered boy. Mike tried to come up with a response but the only thing that could escape from his lips was a hiccup. The tension mixed with pure silence between the two made the atmosphere thick and heavy, "Wh—What happened to your hand?" He asked, hiccuping once more. Pete blinked and rolled his eyes, "Nothing, what do you want?" Hw repeated, blowing on his sore and bleeding fingers. The hiccuping male looked at the sore fingers and stepped in, "There should be some bandaids in here." He said, before looking through the cabinets in the classroom. As he searched, he tried to calm himself down and held his breath to get rid of the hiccups. A red medical kit met his eyes and he lifted it up, making his way towards Pete. "Here, let me see." He exhaled, holding his hand out after he placed the kit on a desk. Pete reluctantly placed his hand on Mike's, looking at the ground. Mike examined the boy's hand, before opening the kit and picked up a roll of bandage tape. He began to wrap Pete's fingers gently, afraid of getting Pete more annoyed. The room was quite empty, the desks were in a mess and most of the chairs were jumbled in a pile. The room was dim, which only made the silence more intense. "You never answered me." A raspy voice whispered, the red goth spoke and continued to look at the floor. "What do you want, Mike?" What did Mike want? Honestly, Mike was unaware of how to answer the question and his thoughts were empty. "Well, I just heard music so. . . I wanted to see where it was coming from, per se." He responded in an unusually timid manner. Pete raised an eyebrow, but instead of responding back he could only nod. Mike cupped Pete's hand and looked down at it, making sure he wrapped each finger properly. However, Pete quickly snatched his hand away and removed the guitar that rested on him. Mike looked at Pete, with a confused and upset expression. He noticed that he was packing up his musical equipment and sighed, "Why are you avoiding me?" He asked, becoming more sadden. Pete quickly paused and his body froze, "Why are you following me?" He spoke with a sassy tone. "No seriously Pete, we spent the whole day together and now you're acting like you don't even know me." Mike frowned, as he was walking earlier, he did question why Pete suddenly became so cold towards him.
"I only spent the day with you because of the project, that's it. Don't get all weird about it." Pete responded.
"Do you not want to be seen with me? Is that why?" After the rest of the vamp kids stopped sharing an interest for Twilight, they began to avoid him as if they were embarrassed to be around him. "Just answer me—"
"I'm just confused right now, okay?" Pete snapped, holding the guitar to his chest. "This whole time you've confused me and I.. I just don't know how to deal with it." He added, growing a small frown.
"Confused you?"
"Since middle school, I never liked you whatsoever. I hated you, Mike. Then out of nowhere you just show up and—and then I'm spending time with you, it doesn't make sense." Pete ranted, only becoming more frustrated.
"You vamp kids made us feel like the thing that makes us different is just some fad that everyone has to join, until no one likes it anymore. And guess who started it? Mike Makowski, the 5th grader who was some fucking goody-two shoes that was obsessed with Bieber just like the rest of those shitty conformists," As Pete continue to speak, Mike stood and stared in disbelief. "The one thing that made us feel connected, you and your group ruined. Now, the vampire—whatever the fuck it is—shit is over and I just.. I don't know how to feel about you. I'm not sure if I should still hate you, but it feels like I'm suppose to." He sighed, his body was tense and his breath was heavy. Mike's eyebrows furrowed and his lip began to tremble, "So you just do things because you're supposed to? I guess there's no changing you." He said, he gripped onto the bandage tape in his hand and his shoulders began to shiver. "I thought you were different than the rest of the goth kids, per se. I thought you would let go of the things that happened in middle school. I thought you didn't listen to anybody and just went with how you felt but, the second the rest of the goth kids don't like something—you hate it as well. You're no different after all, huh?" Those final words that Mike spoke echoed before he dropped the tape on the desk and hurried his way out the room. Pete froze in place, somehow he didn't disagree with Mike. He noticed how the second people started liking mainstream music, he hated it. The second Mike became a vamp kid, he grew a deep hatred for him—before he didn't even know Mike whatsoever. As he tried to shake of those harsh words, he picked up his equipment and made his way out of the room. His feet felt heavy and he could only walk at a slow pace, with the only thought in mind:

I'm not sure if I should hate you, Mike.