Thanks For The Memories

Chapter One

The warm crisp air of summer blew through the bright blooming trees. I was alone, in a big city. I didn't know where to start. I was of 18 years. Just became an adult. Mother thought it'd be best for me to move out, mostly because I didn't want to go to college and she disaproved of that. She had no idea how great her idea truly was.

Although I wasn't thousands of miles away from home, I was still at least several miles away. We lived in a smaller town. I moved to the bigger city. It used to seem so foreign to me, this big city. The way the buildings scraped the sky and towered over us. The bigger ones were always the most superior of them all.

I sat on a bench with my guitar. I didn't have a job yet. I needed some way to help pay for supplies. I owned a very small apartment, very small doesn't even compare to how small it seemed to be for an actual living space. I strummed notes on my guitar to a favorite song of mine. Can't Buy Me Love.

I was normally a drummer. I wasn't much of a singer, but if I wanted to get any money out of this I knew I had to sing. People smiled and walked by. A few pedestrians threw in a dollar or some change. People began gathering around. They formed a little crowd. Once I finished the song I would immediately start up another.

People began leaving to continue to their destinations. I couldn't help, but notice a man who had been standing there the entire time. He didn't leave to go anywhere. He stayed and watched me carefully. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't staring at him too. I was singing to him majority of the time almost like a serenade. He had black hair that swept across his forehead. Eyeliner outlined his dark brown glistening gems.

He had on black jeans, tighter than anyone I have ever seen wear. His shirt hugged his body nicely. It was a Guns N' Roses band t-shirt. His feet were covered by well worn Chuck Taylor's.

My throat was parched. I took a sip of my water bottle along with a small break. The man walked over and sat beside me. He smiled this adorable half smile and said, "Are you new in town?"

I nodded slightly while swallowing my mouth full of water. His presence made me nervous. He asked, "Are you normally out on the streets alone?"

I shrugged, "For right now, yeah kind of."

I thought he assumed I meant that I was homeless because he set my guitar in its case and carried it. He started walking away. I watched him walk away. He turned around, "Hey kid, aren't you coming?"

I smiled and sped up to where he was standing. He chuckled, "You know if someone takes your guitar case with all of your hard earned money, you should probably follow him to try and get it back."

"Eh I don't want to start trouble. I think it's best to lay low and go with the flow of things."

He nodded and smiled, "I like the way you think."

The funny thing is that he doesn't even know half of the things I think about. I contemplated too much and too often about everything and anything. One of those things was him right now. As we continued walking he asked, "So what's your name, kid?"

"My name is Patrick. Patrick Stump and I'm not a kid. I'm eighteen years old."

He smiled, "You're an okay adult then, Patrick. Wow what a voice you have."

I smiled, "Thank you."

We walked into a parking lot. I said, "Hey I didn't catch your name?"

He said while fumbling for his car keys, "Oh my name is Pete Wentz."

I nodded to him. He was pressing his alarm button to try and find the car. I pointed over to a car with flashing lights. He said, "Thanks Patrick."