liar ー petekey [2017 bandfiction award winner]

ELEVEN

a/n: this chapter is special because it's going to briefly have pete's pov in it!! -ross ♡

Somehow, within the next fifteen minutes, Mikey finds himself and Pete seated in front of Donna and Elena.

"We need to plan this wedding as fast and efficiently as possible," Donna explains as Gerard walks into the room. "Gerard, can you help us with planning the wedding?"

"Depends. What can I do?" Gerard inquires.

"Well, first, we need to plan out the basic things, then we'll see what everyone can do."

"Okay, I'm in," Gerard says and seats himself on the couch beside Elena.

"Who are we inviting?" Mikey asks. 

"We could have Pete's parents fly in if they wanted to, and then it would just be the rest of us," Donna says.

"Oh, um, that won't be necessary," Pete says.

"Of course it is! Seeing your child get married is one of the best parts of being a parent!" Elena exclaims, and Pete shifts uncomfortably.

"No, uh, it's not really necessary because my parents are- they're kind of, like... Dead."

Elena's tone changes from bubbly to sympathetic. "Oh."

Mikey, sensing the tension, tries to change the subject. "So that's everyone?"

"Can Patrick come?" Gerard asks.

"Of course, dear," Donna says.  "Seven people. I can cook for seven people."

"I can do the photography since I took those courses on it in college," Gerard says.

"And I'll get the rings and the suits," Elena says. "I'll make sure they fit."

Just then, Donald walks into the room. "Michael, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Mikey nods and walks out of the room, his father trailing behind him.

"I will not be attending your wedding," Donald says, "because I do not endorse your lifestyle."

"So you-"

"I will not be there to walk you down the aisle, yes," Donald says. 

"Dad, I'm-"

"That's quite enough, Michael. I have other things to attend to."

And with that, Donald walks to the front door and leaves the house.

Mikey walks back into the living room, anger seething in him. "Gerard, will you walk me down the aisle?"

Gerard seems to get what's going on as soon as the words leave Mikey's mouth. "Of course."

"I'm going downstairs," Mikey says, and without another word, he walks to the very end of the hallway and opens the door that leads downstairs into the dusty old basement.

-

Elena, Donna, and Gerard sit in silence, and Pete can't help but feel uncomfortable from the way Elena is staring at Pete as if he should do something.

All of a sudden, a series of loud booming sounds reverberate from the floor beneath their feet. 

"Is he okay?" Pete asks, unsure of what to think.

"He used to play his bass when he got mad at Dad. I guess he never grew out of it," Gerard says. "When we were both mad at Dad, we were, like, this punk band or some shit. We called it 'Gerard and the Bass.'"

"He'll be back up in around half an hour. If you want, Pete, you can go upstairs and do whatever," Donna says.

Pete nods and makes his way back upstairs, feeling the stares of Mikey's family on his back as he walks. He ends up getting lost once he goes upstairs, and only finds his and Mikey's room after about two minutes of searching.

He collapses on the bed and closes his eyes.

A business deal. That's all this is, right?

Because he can't really be in love with his assistant, can he?

-

When Mikey comes back upstairs, he's sweaty and his fingers are aching from how violently he's been playing his bass.

Gerard looks up at him from the couch. "You've been down there since twelve," he says nonchalantly, "that's a new record."

"I got carried away and played an entire Bowie album from memory, then took a nap," Mikey says. 

"Mom and Grandma already went to bed. You're going to have to get up early tomorrow and plan out everything," 

"Fuck," Mikey says, looking at his watch and realizing that it's 9:45. "I'm gonna go to bed now," he says and turns towards the staircase. "Have fun with Patrick."

Mikey walks up the staircase and into his room, then burrows under a mound of blankets, careful not to wake Pete.

He wakes Pete anyway. At least, he thinks Pete was asleep before he walked in.

Pete lets out a soft groan. "If we're really getting married, I hope you know I steal all the blankets in my sleep," he says quietly, rolling over and taking two-thirds of Mikey's blanket with him.

"Well, that's unfortunate, because the cover thief is my job. Give me some," Mikey says, pulling part of the blanket out from under Pete, who whines, then sits up and stares at Mikey with a confused expression. "What?" Mikey asks.

"I just realized: I know next to nothing about you," Pete says. 

Mikey stays silent.

"I play bass, too. I went to high school with your brother's friend, and I love Indian food," Pete says. 

They lie in silence for a good thirty seconds after that.

"I read The Murder of Roger Ackroyd every Christmas," Mikey says. "It's my favorite book." He opens his eyes and looks at the ceiling. "I like jazz music. Not, like, 'ha-ha, he likes that trash.' I actually quite enjoy it."

Mikey continues, "My first concert was Smashing Pumpkins in '96. I went with my brother. We saved up for a year to buy plane tickets to Washington for it."

"My parents died when I was sixteen," Pete says after Mikey falls silent. "In a boating accident. I got a tattoo just after they died in their memory. It was the symbol for the comic series my mother spent half her life working on. They were going to get published the year after she died, but after the accident, they saw no point in even trying. I still keep them in my attic."

"When you asked me about scars," Mikey shivers at the mere thought of looking at his bare arms. "I wouldn't talk about it because I have them. I did heroin the first month I moved to New York, and I didn't quit until after I graduated college. I got clean so I could find a job."

"You- heroin? You did drugs?"

"Yeah," Mikey breathes. "I still have the scars. That's why I wear my uniform on Casual Friday, why you haven't seen me in a short-sleeved shirt the entire time we've been here. I'm ashamed of them."

"Wait, what's the deal with your dad?"

Mikey feels a lump in his throat. "I don't want to talk about that."

"But is he going to be at the wedding-"

"No. Goodnight, Pete."

Mikey rolls over and shuts his eyes. He can tell that Pete's confused.

"Goodnight," Pete says, and Mikey falls asleep once Pete's breathing becomes slow and soft.