Pete Wentz adopted me?!

Worth It

~Quinn's P.O.V.~

"Okay. Now you have to face Security and Management. Warning, Security can be kind of scary. And the way you reacted to the rest of us just saying surprise, You should stick close to us. Any one of us, it doesn't matter. Okay?" Patrick told me as we got out of the car and walked towards a large building. Pete opened the door and let us in first.

I immediately stuck to Patrick by grabbing his arm. Andy led us up a staircase and through a door with the numbers 782 on it. When I walked inside, still clutching Patricks arm, I saw a long table  with a million seats surrounding it. Over half, the seats were already filled in. I sat down with Patrick on my left and Pete on my right.

"So, this is the girl, Pete?"A woman said, gesturing my way.

"Yes. Her names Quinn Harley Wentz." Pete told her.

"Yeah. I'm 15, 16 in December. I've been in the hellhole of an adoption center since I was 8 years old and I have listened to Fall Out Boy since From Under The Cork Tree came out and Panic! since A Fever You Can't Sweat Out. And My Chem since Bullets." I smile at her.

She just glared at me and turned back to Pete, "Why didn't you Follow the parameters we set up? Young, cute, and nice.Blonde or redhead." She snarled.

"Well, she is cute, she was the only two who listened to my band or my friend's bands. And so fucking what if she isn't blonde or redhead? Your not the one who's going to live with her, are you?"Pete laced venom into his words.

"No. But media will pick up on this Pete! Do you want to give this company a bad name? Letting you adopt a, a, that?" She pointed to me.

"Um, excuse me. It's called being emo. Thank you very much." I say.

"Company? Company?! You're fucking worried about the fucking company? How fucking blind are you? This is a band matter. Not a fucking company matter! I talked it over with the band and their families and they are all who matter. Not you. You can't control this. There are things you can control. But not our life decisions! Fuck you." Pete got up and stormed out of the room

"You know, I kind of like her. She knows their music, which means she knows how important this is to the band. She knows their style of music, She knows all that, John. You're her bodyguard."

"She's not worth it. But whatever." A large man, almost six foot, turned to look at me. He had large muscles bulging through his black tee shirt. But, as my eyes met his, I screamed.

I screamed and clutched Patricks arm tighter as my vision started to go black. Then I was transported back to the day I almost died at my dad's hands.

~Pete's P.O.V.~

I paced back and forth outside the meeting room. I really hated that woman. Alway have and always will. I leaned against the wall And ran my hands over my face. Then I heard a scream from inside the room. I quickly opened the door and looked in. Quinn was on the floor screaming, still clutching Patricks arm, and almost pulling him off the seat as well.

Jessie, the  woman who headed the company, sat there smiling, the bitch. Andy was sitting there, looking shocked. No one had ever seen a panic attack before. They have seen so many anxiety attacks, though.

I quickly pulled out Quinns phone she had put in my pocket and found Carrie in her contacts. I clicked the call button and waited for her to pick up.

"Quinn? Is it you? Wait, who screaming?" The connection was through.

"No, It's Pete. Quinn's having a panic attack, I think. She screaming and, I don't know what happened. How do I stop it?" I quickly told her.

"Oh my god. Where are you?" She asked. There was moving around on the other end and the sound of a chair being scraped across the floor.

"We're meeting Security and Management. Why?" I asked.  Quinn had tears coming out of her eyes and her screams were hurting my ears.

"I think I know what happened. One of your security people must have reminded her of her dad. Get them all out of the room, so it's you, her, and the rest of the band. Then, sometimes music will stop them. Try Headfirst Slide Into Coopers Town On A Bad Bet, Novocaine, Hum Hallelujah, Grand theft Autumn or Spotlight from Patrick's Soul Punk. Okay? Call me when it stops or if it didn't work, Alright? Bye." With that Carrie hung up.

"Everybody fucking leave! If you want her to stop screaming, leave the room! Please." I yell. Security and Manegemnt all left. Andy and Joe tried to leave, but I stopped them, telling them she needed familiar faces to 'wake up' too. I opened Spotify and started to play Spotlight. Patrick looked at me like I was crazy, but, like the lung stealing little man he is, he couldn't help but sing along.

Every word's a new regret if you say it right, right
Every wound can be forgotten in the right light
Oh nostalgia, I don't need you anymore
'Cause the Salad Days are over and the meat is at my door
'Cause they might try to tell you how you can live your life

But don't, don't forget it's your right, to do whatever you like, you like
'Cause you could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o
You could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o
You could be your own spotlight
You could be the star, you can shine so bright, e-o, e-o

You could be your own
'Cause they're gonna tell you all the rules to break
To take away that light, somebody, somebody now
You could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o
You could be your own spotlight.

When the second verse come on, another voice joined in.

Depression is a little bit like happy hour, right
It's always gotta be happening somewhere on any given night
Oh nostalgia I don't need you anymore
I just hope my perfect stranger that my kids look more like yours

'Cause they might, they might
Try to tell you how you can live your life
But don't, don't forget it's your right to do whatever you like
You like
'Cause you could be your own spot light, e-o, e-o

You could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o
You could be your own spotlight
You could be the star, you can shine so bright, e-o, e-o
You could be your own
Cause they're gonna tell you all the rules to break
To take away that light, somebody, somebody now

You could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o
You could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o
You could be your own, cause I had a little bit of bad luck
Oh, when will this crumbling world stops
Little sweetness keeps just out of reach

'Cause compassion is something
That they just don't, just don't teach, teach
'Cause you could be your own spot light, e-o, e-o
You could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o

You could be your own spotlight
You could be the star, you can shine so bright, e-o, e-o
You could be your own
'Cause they're gonna tell you all the rules to break
To take away that light, somebody, somebody now
You could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o
You could be your own spotlight, e-o, e-o

Quinn had stopped having a panic attack and was softly singing along as she dried her tears.

"Hey. What happened?" I asked after Quinn had sat up and her tears had stopped.

"T-that guy. J-John. H-h-he looks l-like my dad." She said, a few new tears leaking out. I took my sleeve and wiped them away.

"That's alright. You'll never have to see him again. I promise. Alright?" I smile.

"I-I have too. T-hey a-a-assigned him to be my b-bodyguard." She sniffled.

"It's alright. I'll have them change you bodyguard to Andrew, okay? Andrew is the nicest person ever." I turn to Patrick, "Yo, Pat. Go tell Dan to change Quinn's bodyguard from John to Andrew, K?"

"Sure." Patrick got up and walked out of the room.

"You'll never have to see John again, unless you absolutely have too, okay?" I reach forward and brush  a strand of hair out of her face.

"Okay. Now can we go home?" Quinn asked as she stood up.

"Yes. Now we can go home and probably have dinner. It's around six, now. Come on." I smile and we all go home, to where Meagan, Marie, and Elisa were making a huge vat of spaghetti and meatballs.