Pete
April 10th
"Pete..." Dallon says sadly when he and Brendon walk through the entrance.
I immediately start bawling and Hayley just hushes me and rubs my back.
We're sitting in the waiting room; Hayley and me. Bob, Travie's mom, and Ashley (who arrived about ten minutes ago) were in the room with Travie. Hayley and I were too, but I couldn't stop crying.
I never fucking cry.
Emotional piece of shit...I calmed down when Hayley brought me out here to cool off. But when Dallon walks up to me with that sympathetic looks, sad smile with caves in his eyes and a quiet voice, I lost it again.
I stand up and pull him into a tight hug, tears soaking into his jacket. Brendon rubs my back. Hayley stands up as well, hugging Brendon.
"I'm so sorry, Pete..." Dallon whispers.
I just nod, not able to get the words out of my stupid mouth.
"Anyone not here yet?" Brendon mutters to no one in particular.
"P-pa..Patrick a-and-" I try.
"Patrick, Gerard, and Frank are upstate visiting Patrick's mom at a hospital. She's detoxing and they only get to see her on Tuesdays." Hayley says calmly.
Brendon's eyes go wide for just a moment—only to process the information, "heavy."
All Dallon does is just nod. He probably already knew, or something. Either that or he's just good at keeping his cool.
"Can we see him?" Dallon says sweetly.
I nod, wiping tears away from my eyes.
"You wanna come with or no?" Dallon asks.
I shake my head, a new wave of tears rushing down my face. Why the fuck am I crying? This isn't me. Pete Wentz doesn't do shit like this. Ever. Fuck, I'm loosing it.
Dallon hands me off to Hayley like I'm some sort of box of memories, carefully and sadly.
Him and Brendon, hand in hand, walk back to the hospital room Travie's in. I seem to get war flashbacks as I watch them off; various bleak machines around Travie, body bruised. Unable to move, and bloody areas that are sure to leave a scar. Eyes fluttering closed every now and then, and I feel my heart stop every time he closes them for just a little too long.
I shake out the thoughts.
Seated next to Hayley, I sigh out loud. She frowns.
"When are the boys getting here..?"
I shrug, "like 9:30, I think that's what Patrick said."
"Okay..." she leans her head on my shoulder, "you going to dinner after?"
I breathe out, letting my head fall on top of her's. My hands find their way into her turquoise curls. Soft and bright, vibrant color beaming into my eyes.
"Maybe...I'll see how I'm feeling."
She smiles slightly, "that's completely fine. It's alright to not be okay."
Mhm.
"Yeah..." I bite my cheek, "did I mention that I love your hair."
She chuckles, "Thank, Peter."
I freeze up, and I think some sort of memory of someone (probably Patrick or Gerard) telling her not to call me 'Peter' pops up in her head, and she apologizes quietly.
"Thank you, Dear Pete." She laughs.
I smiled lightly.
"What's the time?" I ask, not feeling like a can move my limbs.
She pulls out her phone, the lock screen being her, Frank, Gerard, Bob, and Gerard as well as another girl.
She's sticking out her tongue, Frank kissing Gerard's cheek, Patrick (I hope) ironically dabbing on a pissed but trying-not-to-laugh Bob, and the other girl leaning into Hayley with a lovey-dovey look.
"6:47." She says simply.
She glances back at me, who is looking at her lock screen.
"Who's she?" I point to the other girl.
Her half pink and half black hair compliment her pink eyebrows, and her adorable tooth gap between her front teeth. A septum ring in her nose, and light pink lipstick as well as eyeshadow..? Eyeliner? I don't really understand makeup.
"Oh um...her name's Melanie. We don't hang out with her anymore. She pulled some shit with a friend of hers, Timothy, and we kicked her out of our front group. She's still a Soul Punk, though. She's...evil, almost. But a cute, submissive-type girl who can run a damn show with her manipulation skills."
I stare wide-eyes at the friendly looking girl. Melanie, fits her.
"Wow." Is all I can seem to say.
"Yeah," Hayley chuckles, "I still kept this picture though because I love it and Bob is fighting a smile and I think it's hilarious."
"That's rad." I chuckle as well.
And so time takes on, minutes lightly chatting with Hayley turn into hours. Hours of broken words trying to pretend I'm fine, and Travie's gonna be just fine, and all my thoughts are just fine.
"Gerard and the gang are on their way." Bob says, looking up from is phone.
Him and I sit in the waiting room alone. I can't seem to face Travie, but I know I will have to soon. I don't want to look at him again.
"How long?"
"About an hour...it's 8:37. They should be back and can see him for ten-fifteen minutes, and tomorrow whenever too." Bob says plainly.
I hum in response.
———
"Pete, I'm so sor-"
I cut Patrick off by jumping on him, wrapping my limbs around him. My arms squeezing his waist, and my face buried in his chest. I fall on him a bit, so I'm head level with his chest. He pulls me up, arms holding onto me like if he let go I'd run off somewhere far away from him.
He rests his head on mine, breathing in my scent.
Gay.
Well he is gay, so it would make sense.
He's wearing his glasses, them all messed up on his face. They suit his face.
And as these protective thoughts ware away, my mind swiftly moves back to Travie and I'm a sobbing mess on Patrick. I'm fucking whimpering occasionally and choking on tears.
Well never thought this day would come.
Fuck.
"Shh...you're okay."
And he runs his soft fingers throw my messy hair, pulling my close; he's swaying us slowly. Here we stand, in the middle of a hospital's waiting room hugging and I'm crying.
I can't believe I'm crying.
