Clandestine (Pete Wentz / Fall Out Boy Fanfic)

Chapter 5 - Just Relax, For Once

Ariel Raven

As Pete kicked open the front door, he spread his arms wide and grinned exuberantly. "Here it is," He said sarcastically, "Home, sweet home." He tossed his hoodie carelessly in the general direction of what seemed to be a coat hanger near the door, and left me standing awkwardly with my guitar case. "What's mine is yours, Ariel," he said turning to look over his shoulder at me as he walked away. "Don't be shy."

With that, he turned a corner and flicked on a light in the adjacent room. I looked around the entrance with a frown. The house was definitely a reflection of Pete; Over the top, and far too welcoming. He had pictures hung on the walls, of him and what I assumed must be his kid. I didn't realize he was a dad. There was even one picture of him and Patrick. I walked further into the house, my eyes scanning the pictures and decorations, until I found the kitchen, where Pete was pouring himself a glass of water. He glanced at me with a smirk and took a long sip before saying anything. "Seriously, Ariel," he chuckled, "Make yourself comfortable. Relax."

"Where should I put my things?" I asked gesturing to the guitar on my shoulder.

"Well," Pete said, "There's a few guest rooms upstairs. You can have your pick, of course. But if you want, the guitar can go in the basement. I have a home studio down there, with all of my instruments. It's your choice."

I hesitated, not wanting to intrude on too much of his home. I was already kicking myself for allowing him to give me a place to stay. I didn't need it. "I'll keep it with me for now," I said, nervously glancing toward the hallway that I assumed led to the staircase. Pete smirked again and led the way, taking me all of the way upstairs in silence. "These two doors," he stated, gesturing to the left of the hallway, "Or the second door on the right. This first one here is my room." I thought for a moment, then quickly made for the far door on the left. I heard Pete chuckling to himself behind me, and I turned over my shoulder to shoot him an annoyed glare. "As far away as possible, huh?" He asked, that damned smile lighting up his face. He started to turn back towards the stairs, shaking his head. "I'll let you know when dinner's here. Pizza sound good?" I shrugged, and Pete continued to grin, slowly making his way down the stairs.

Once he was gone, I trudged into my new bedroom, gently laying my guitar down on the bed. It was rather large for a guest room, but then again, the whole house was huge. The walls were painted white, and most of the furniture as well, which consisted of a bookcase, a dresser, a nightstand, and a bed. The covers on the bed were dark green, a stark contrast to the brightness of the room. I fell onto the comforter beside my guitar, sighing heavily and closing my eyes for a minute. From downstairs, I could hear the faint drone of a television.

I laid still for a few minutes, trying to take everything in. Less than two hours ago, I was homeless, without anything but the clothes on my back, and now, I was living in a mansion with a rock star. I tried wondering where on Earth I had gone so right, but I couldn't pinpoint an exact moment. Instead, I gave up and opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling for a second until I finally sat up again. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, simultaneously pulling my guitar onto my lap. I began to strum a few random chords until I found a melody, and soon enough, was singing quietly to myself, making up words as I went along.

I wasn't sure how long I played like that, but when I finally stopped, the sound of a nervous cough from the doorway made my head snap up. I flushed as Pete smiled apologetically as he leaned on the door frame. "Sorry, uh...pizza's here, if you're hungry."

"Thanks," I stated, quickly looking down at the guitar again. I was still blushing, and Pete was still watching me, as if he wanted to say something else. "I'll be down in a minute," I snapped, perhaps a little too rudely. Pete only nodded and turned to walk away again. When he was gone, I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I had been holding. I set the guitar down again and stood up, walking to the mirror atop the dresser on the other side of the room. I realized I was in great need of a shower, but wondered if Pete had anything in the house that wasn't man-scented for me to shower with.