Death Valley - (A Fall Out Boy Apocalypse Fanfic)

Chapter One - The Beginning

Chapter One - The Beginning

I was 98% sure that I was dreaming. For one thing, I was certain that unicorns did not really exist, and for another, the unicorns I know of did not give some pretty awesome head. I needed to quit drinking caffeine before I slept. 

In the meantime...who was to say I shouldn't enjoy this dream while it lasted? The unicorn had some pretty good lips on her. 

"Pete! You sleep like a fucking troll - Pete! Pete Wentz!"

My dream came crashing around me with a rain of sparkles and an empty feeling inside my gut.

Why did I have to give him the spare key to my apartment, again?

Sighing, I opened one bleary eye and noted with some amusement that ol' Sheriff Woody was standing at attention, creating a tent with my blanket.

Some good this'll do if he sees me. 

I sat up in a hurry, stretching as I did so, uttering a small moan of satisfaction when my tense muscles relaxed. 

"Pete? I swear, if this was what you meant being your manager was all about, I would've turned you down with a carrot up your ass! Wake up, for God's sake!"

I grinned. Just like Roger to wake his most favourite rockstar with obscenities.

"Pete, I fucking swear to God if you're not up yet I am going to leave you buck-naked on the nearest highway and high-tail out of there!"

Kinky, I thought. "I'm up, I'm up!" I said, stifling another grin.

Roger appeared at my door, wearing his three-hundred-ninety-five dollar coat and million-dollar frown. I often joked with him about it - he often looked like he was having a brain hemorrhage whenever he frowned; thick, bushy twin brows pushed together in the centre of his forehead. I recognized the coat - it was his "no bullshit" coat.

"Have you forgotten what day it is?" He was roaring.

Roger never did anything quietly - he only had two volumes; loud and louder. His "loud" voice was reserved for indoors, and his "louder" one was for...well, anything else. Now he was tuned in to the latter.

"Um, it's the day I realize how debonair you look in a coat?" I offered, flashing him my most winning smile.

Unfortunately my smile did not work as well on men as it did on women. Roger rolled his eyes and huffed out impatiently.

"Nice try, Wentz, but that's not gonna work on a forty-three-year-old man like me."

I grinned, trying again: "Forty-three? You don't look a day over twenty, boss."

"Cut the crap, Wentz, you know what I'm talking about."

Well, it was worth a shot.

"What's the hurry? Las Vegas isn't going anywhere," I said, yawning impressively.

"It's part of the job," Roger sniffed. "A rather shitty one at that. This is so not worth the wage I'm getting."

I smiled at that. "You'll get a raise, boss. You heard it personally from me."

Roger cracked a hard smile at that, which I took to be a good sign. "Get up, get dressed. Time is money."

Once he left, I headed straight for the bathroom.

I stared at myself in the mirror, noting the tiny wrinkles around my eyes and mouth. Unnoticeable from far, but still visible anyway. It was as if a mini hurricane had gone through my hair - it was standing all over the place, messy dark spikes everywhere. I ran a hand through it, hoping to untagle some of the knots, meaning to flatten it somehow, but to no avail.