Loveless (Peterick)

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A/N: So in the process for writing a sequel to Tomorrow's Sorrow, I had a random idea and this is the result of it. This is going to be short. About 11 parts with 2000+ words each to be exact. I'm not sure how often I'm going to update because I've been blowing off talking to my friends to work on both books for a week straight, and it's kind of been unhealthy for me to spend all day every day behind a computer screen, not socializing, and killing myself over getting it done soon when I get writer's block extra easily. But whatever. enough of that sad shit. I decided to do a point of view change that's different from the first person I'm used to writing so idk how much better it'll be but we'll see. Also the title is based off one of Lorde's songs because Melodrama came to my house and murdered me.

Pete daydreamed a lot. It was a habit he never seemed to grow out of, dating back to his middle school days when he'd look out the window in Literature and thought about all the boys he found cute on the football team while everyone else would be discussing the article they were supposed to have read at home. Now, though, now he had a half eaten sandwich in his hands and was looking out the break room window at a certain cute guy named Mikey who sat three desks over near their boss's office. Mikey was always busy, though, running errands for Ray, and Pete never got the chance to see him often. Mikey didn't even know Pete existed when the latter was always hidden behind his computer typing away for articles that kept up to date with alternative bands and their hot, new music.

He only had time to notice whether or not he'd gotten Ray's coffee order right or had marked his calendar correctly. Nevertheless, Pete was entirely infatuated with the sharp-jawed individual who didn't even have a moment to spare for anyone besides their boss. It wasn't like Pete hadn't tried to introduce himself. He'd done it on multiple occasions, but Mikey's good looks would always overwhelm him and he'd end up chickening out at the last second. He believed he was in love with him.

Some would probably call it an obsession since Pete practically knew everything there was to know about him even the little things he had picked up about the taller man through the years. He saw him then, coming straight for the break room, and Pete's heart did a little dance inside his chest just from the sight of his slicked back, blond hair and black-rimmed glasses on his gorgeous face. Pete began to panic then, unsure of how to act when he came in, so he jumped up and went over to the cabinets to pretend like he was looking for something important. The door opened, and out of the corner of his eye Pete saw Mikey go to the coffee machine and pour himself a mug while texting away on his phone. He decided to make a noise to catch his attention, so he pulled out a plastic plate and dropped it on the ground. Not even a flinch.

The air began to grow thick as Pete tried to figure out what to do next, but he had run out of time. Mikey walked right past him after pouring in some creamer and packets of sugar and went straight into Ray's office with the mug. He was a total failure in life, always had been. This wasn't the job his younger self expected he would have when he had thought of what it would be like to be a journalist. He would see the stories on his television of a journalist in a foreign country, studying the issues and bringing them to light in the Western world.

That was what he wanted, to have been reporting on the real things people should be caring about. Instead, he had gotten stuck with the lowest form of journalism there was: writing for a magazine that was targeted toward millennials. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his work. He had fun meeting band members and interviewing them. They were almost always good people, hoping to make a difference through their music by sending messages via their lyrics.

He only wished he could do so much more to influence the youth besides recommending which album they should buy that week. Pete threw his sandwich in the trash and walked back to his desk to open up the last document he was working on. It'd been about a few ads using alternative music to grab at the attention of the younger generation, which was going to lead into some screen shots from twitter answering some questions he was supposed to send out to their fans about the "issue". Everyone liked Pete and his articles despite the fact that he didn't think he nor his writing was anything interesting. He'd gained quite the following after a picture of him had leaked out on the internet, but he had just assumed his article about fifteen songs they needed to hear that week had caught on when he suddenly gained a massive amount of followers.