We're Mental, So What? (A Pete Wentz Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eight - Trial Day

Author's Note:

Hey guys! Okay, so to make it a little different I have Pete, Bella and Patrick singing the All Time Low song Remembering Sunday. It's one of my all time favourites and I wanted to incorperate it in some way before I forgot about doing so. Okay, now let's get on with it!

I was really nervous. I was allowed a trial day out in the real world, since I hadn't seen any of the three children in about four weeks. What made me a bit more calm was the fact the Pete and Patrick were going to be with me the whole time. "So, What do 'normal' people do?" I asked Pete as we linked arms.

"You are normal, just with a bit extra." Pete told me in a voice that almost convinced me that it was true. In the back of my mind, I was wondering why he was wearing sweatpants. I rested my head on his shoulder and we walked to Patrick's car. Patrick was already waiting for us inside the vehicle and looking slightly uneasy. Pete and I clambered into the back seats and spent most of out time talking and giggling. It took us about twenty seconds to realize that we had stopped. I looked at the store in front of us. A tattoo parlour? Pete smiled at me. We had both turned eighteen a few months ago and he said he had a surprise for me. But really? I smiled at him and he said, "I would like to be the one who buys you your first tat." I made a girly squeal and wrapped my arms tightly round his neck. He coughed slightly and I thought about how I must be choking him. I unwrapped myself from his neck and gave him a quick kiss as an apology.

We walked in and were told to take a seat in the chairs provided. I thought about my fear of needles but Pete just said to hold his hand through it and listen to his words. It would be over before I knew it. We both knew exactly what we were getting. Pete was getting the outline of a bat with a heart in the middle,half the heart being coloured in black, done just above waistline, and I was getting the same on the bottom of my back. I was told to turn around and lift up my top slightly, while Pete was told to undo his trousers and pull them down to just below his boxers waistband. I gripped his hand slightly tighter and closed my eyes as I heard the needle start buzzing. He whispered something to the tattoo artist and he nodded with a knowing smile. He turned of the radio and I heard Pete pull out his phone. I heard the start of XO playing and smiled. I knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to sing for me. Often, his voice was the only thing that could calm me down when I was like this. XO was one of my favourite songs he had written and I was very glad he was comfortable singing in front of complete strangers for me. I sighed contently and loosened up a little. He started singing in his beautiful tone and I relaxed completely, feeling my worries melt away completely.

"I comb the crowd and pick you out.

My mouth moves too fast for you to figure it out

It starts eyes closed to fingers crossed

To I swear, I say

To I swear, I say."

He was right. It was over before I knew it. It didn't even hurt much. I just focused on his words and tone and in this moment nothing, not even pain, mattered. When it was over, I opened my eyes and stared at the tattoo. It was magnificent. "Happy with it?" the artist asked me. I nodded and looked over at Pete, who was smiling like a four year old. He was the cutest person I had ever seen.

When we walked out, the next place on the agenda was a bar. We had to show ID and Patrick always carried mine. Institute rules. He handed it to me as Pete dug in his pockets for his driver's licence. Since Patrick had not changed out of his work uniform, he had ID on a name-tag around his neck.

Once we had got inside, we ordered drinks. I ordered something evil and alcoholic-looking, whilst the boys just stuck to beer. "Okay everybody!" the DJ started, "If you come here often, which I know a lot of you do, then you'll know it's karaoke night! Who's gonna go first today?" The lights flashed and landed on a random old guy in the corner. "You gonna give it a go, buddy?" The man shook his head. "Okay, any volunteers?" A hand was raised and a girl, who didn't look older than 17 took the stand. She sang some song by an artist I hadn't even heard of and, after a few more bottles of beer, Pete was drunk enough to voulenteer himself. I asked if he was sure he wanted to do this but he just nodded and smiled. When he got to the microphone, he picked up one of the guitars and sat down on the bar stool provided. He started strumming quietly and talked for a while.