learning to fly ➵ petekey

ix ; somebody please stop pete wentz

1. im seeing fall out boy tomorrow and i can hardly contain my excitement aaa i love them so much
2. i know i said this would be long and angsty but that didnt exactly work out sorry
3. please watch the video in the sidebar its relevant to the second and third paragraphs
4. i cant write slurred/drunk speech to save my life so i skipped writing it but its still an occurrence so just keep that in mind

Pete reckoned he'd never quite regretted something as much as bailing out of that conversation with Mikey. And yet, simultaneously, it was probably for the better, because he knew he wasn't quite ready for it to happen, and he would probably end up, like, fainting or something if he hasn't have walked away.

It was quite cliche, actually - the whole concept of walking out. It was like that scene from High School Musical 2, where Gabriella practically dumped Troy and walked away from him, and they sang that cheesy song that admittedly made Pete bawl his eyes out. Ah, Gotta Go My Own Way. That was it. The most heartbreaking movie scene from his childhood.

Except, what if they'd never gotten back together? What if one hadn't forgiven the other? What if Gabriella, or rather Pete, never had the courage to come back?

But all Disney movies aside (even if it was HSM, which was arguably the best one), he knew he'd come to regret his next decision even more than leaving Mikey.

He wanted to forget. He wanted to (impermanently) dislodge everything bad from his memory, but if he was going to do it the way he planned, he would also have to sacrifice some good things as well, and despite not being particularly fond of that idea, he wasn't going to chicken out.

He was going to get shitfaced. Or, to put it in a nicer way, drunk. And he knew he was going to regret that the next day when he woke up with a raging headache and a lack of knowledge on what happened the previous night, but that didn't make it any less appealing to him.

So he found himself walking to the nearest dodgy corner store - you know, the ones that'll sell drugs and booze to pretty much anyone, even without ID, just because they need money - and he purchased some shit that he couldn't properly identify because he wasn't really paying attention, and he was inexperienced with this type of thing, anyway.

Pete wasn't sure how much he had drank when he pulled out his phone.

-

Mikey didn't know what to expect when he saw Pete's caller ID light up on the screen of his phone.

Ideally, what he really wanted was an apology, but he would settle for even an angry conversation, because all he needed was some sort of communication, because he couldn't bear not talking to Pete, no matter how pissed off at him he was.

It was kind of like Pete was an addiction of his, except the withdrawal symptoms included such feelings as heartbreak and general pissed-off-ness.

Ignoring the bad feeling he had in his gut, he accepted the call, bringing his phone up to his ear.

-

The room was spinning. Everything was a blur. It was like someone had edited and filtered his vision, like on one of those shitty tumblr aesthetic photos, except this was real life, and he couldn't quite comprehend anything that was going on around him.

It was like being a completely oblivious two year old learning how to walk again, and despite it being tricky, he had indeed forgotten the earlier events of that day.

It was strange, though, because Pete knew he felt sorry for doing something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what, but he let the feeling pass, as he spoke into his phone.

"Hey, Mikes!" he said, maybe a bit too loud and over enthusiastically, but who cared, he was drunk, and in a way kind of happy, so he was going to make the best of it.

Mikey caught on straight away. "You're drunk," he deadpanned.

"No, I'm not. Why would you think that?" he said, giggling.

"Because your words are slurred and you're horrendously giddy."

"Oh," Pete said.

Mikey sighed. "How drunk are you? And where are you?"

"Like, near that park, or somethin'. And I don't know. A little. Or a lot. I don't know," he responded quite vaguely, but thankfully, Mikey knew what he meant.

"Can you walk properly?"

"Guess so."

"My house is closer to you than your own. Can you make it to my place?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think so."

"Pete? Please stay safe. Be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you, alright?"

"Okay, Mikes," he said, and he hung up the phone and stumbled down the street, desperately trying to remember Mikey's lecture on staying safe.

He walked (staggered) at a slow pace, and he found himself having to grip onto street lamps and fences every once in a while to keep his balance, but eventually, after a long span of fifteen minutes, he managed to get to Mikey's place.

-

Although it wasn't exactly how he had planned to spend his Friday evening, Mikey wasn't prepared to let Pete be alone whilst intoxicated, because he cared a lot about the boy, and he had a heart. A heart he would be willing to have broken for and/or by him.

It hurt, he wasn't going to lie. It hurt bringing Pete in, and asking Pete why he did it, and it hurt hearing him say "to forget". It hurt bringing him water and talking to him until he started to sober up, and it hurt giving him blankets so he could sleep on his sofa.

But he knew it would be worth it, because they could have a decent conversation in the morning, and hopefully tackle the issue, and maybe even hear Pete finally apologise.

Maybe this was all irrational. Out of proportion. Over exaggerated.

Maybe it was really kind of pointless, and they had both overreacted.

But, hey, at least Mikey would admit to his mistakes. Not to name any names, but it appeared as though somebody had a little problem with dealing with their problems in a rational, calm way, that didn't end up with them being drunk on their friend's doorstep.

Mikey sighed, running a hand through his dark, messy hair. He would deal with this all in the morning.