"Pete, I'm not coming into school-" Mikey groaned shaking his head at the shorter boy.

"Legally, you have to." Pete added, although everyone knew by this point that Mikey Way simply did not give one single fuck.

"What because you're scared of some kid you made a slightly passive aggressive comment about on twitter last night?" Mikey raised eyebrows, shaking his head at the boy that he couldn't help call his friend, because fuck, yeah, Pete was pathetic, but Pete was his pal, and that was final, and to an extent, really not Mikey's decision.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm... nervous." Pete stressed, blushing a little, and brushing his fringe down into his face to hide the scarlet red colour his cheeks were turning.

Mikey chuckled a little: not at Pete, but at the situation and the way Pete was reacting. "It'll be fine, I promise, look... I've got maths homework I haven't done today as well, and, look, hey I promise I'll come in tomorrow, does that make it better?"

"No." Pete snapped, folding his arms like an angry five year old, leaving Mikey to severely reassess his life and his friendship choices.

"Well, what can I do, Pete?" Mikey let out a sigh, stretching a little as he did so. "I can't come in, and you're nervous, and you're nervous for no reason and it's gonna be fine-"

"Can I skip with you?" Pete asked, all wide eyes and intrigued smile, and Mikey knew then and there that this was absolutely the worst idea he'd ever heard, but simultaneously, the only one that Pete would settle for.

"Fuck, fine... but when you get into trouble and shit, that's anything but my fault, you got that?" Mikey waited for Pete to nod in response, before letting him inside, the two walking past a particularly emo looking Gerard sat in the kitchen, mouthing something to his cornflakes, and well, Mikey would do and slap his brother across the face, and happily too, but they had guests, so yeah that was pretty unfortunate.

"You have a really nice house, Mikeyway." Pete said as he followed Mikey up the stairs and into quite easily the messiest bedroom he'd ever seen. "You also have a really nice face, and a really nice personality, and you're just really nice. I really like you, Mikey." Pete let out a sigh as he fell back onto Mikey's bed.

"Mmm... I like you too, Pete." Mikey nodded, somewhat absent mindedly as he grabbed a hoodie, because damn, it wasn't hot in here. "So, do you actually care to elaborate on this whole passive aggressive mess or not?"

Pete blushed a little as Mikey sat down beside him on the bed, because like they were dangerously nearing homo territory, and Mikey was like no thanks Pete, but Pete was in an extremely homosexual mood, as it happens. "Well, I may have made some sort of vague comment about those dicks on the football team that are like destined to die alone, and maybe I should have chosen someone less physically strong than me to emotionally attack."

Mikey shook his head, laughing a little as he did so. "You're kind of ridiculous, you know that, Pete?"

Pete nodded, sighing a little, "yeah, I don't make sense, I know."

"No," Mikey met Pete's gaze with a newfound sincerity, as the taller boy grabbed a packet of cigarettes from his bedside table and began to light one, "I didn't mean it like that, and I won't ever will. I meant ridiculous like funny, ridiculous like cute."

"Well, if that's you flirting with me, Mikeyway, you're doing a pretty shit job." Pete let out a sigh, grinning like an idiot as he began to lean back against Mikey's bedroom wall, leaving the taller boy to simply shake his head in disbelief at the idiot that he'd let into his house.

"No, that's me being nice to you, Pete." Mikey explained, moving so he was sat beside Pete, too with his back pressed up against the wall. "You're just so damn ridiculous, you know?"

"And you're such an ass." Pete shook his head, grinning a little as he leant his head onto Mikey's shoulder in a manner that Mikey couldn't even bother fighting, because fuck it, this was Pete Wentz', and okay, he was kind of cute, but he was totally wrecking Mikey's whole 'aloof and mysterious' aesthetic.

"Okay-"

"You're lucky I like ass- like I really like ass." Pete added, grinning like he was insanely proud of himself, and well, Mikey was kind of lost as to what the hell he could respond to that with. "Your ass is my favourite, honestly, you're my favourite anything, Mikeyway, you're just so good, so nice in everyway."

"Compliments are not your forte, are they?" Mikey raised an eyebrow, but he was blushing nevertheless.

"You're blushing." Pete noted, smirking to himself in achievement, even going as far as to push Mikey's hair from his face to take his red cheeks in in full.

"It's hot in here-" Mikey went for what was easily the worst excuse Pete had actually ever heard, but it was amusing nonetheless.

"Yeah, that'll be me." Pete smirked, raising his eyebrows in a manner so smug, Mikey wanted to fucking slap him. "Or you, actually, because you're pretty damn hot, Mikey, you really are, so like, I think it's a joint effort between the both of us, what do you think?"

"I think you should shut up." Mikey rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Pete in something not far off disbelief.

"I think you should make me." Pete smirked, laughing his fucking head off as he laid his head into Mikey's laugh. "I really like making you blush, you know?"

"Yeah, I've noticed." Mikey let out a sigh, watching as Pete, shuffled scarily close to his dick, but thankfully just laid his down inches away. "What is it with you, what is it with this?"

"You're cute, I like you." Pete mumbled, kind of half asleep, with his eyelids kind of half closed. "No homo, though, Mikeyway, god, it couldn't be homo!" He exclaimed, leaving Mikey to shake his head in disbelief, as slowly, but surely, Pete Wentz fell asleep in his lap, and dear god, Mikey wanted to shoot the previous version of himself who'd thought letting Pete stay here with him today was a good idea.

But, it was also kind of cute, and Mikey was kind of flattered, and his heart was kind of beating a little too fast, and Mikey was kind of absolutely fucked when it came to Pete Wentz, but there was absolutely no way that he was admitting that to himself.

-

Mikey had eventually moved Pete into his bed, and made his way downstairs, perhaps just to see if his brother had stopped looking so morbidly emo whilst eating cereal yet; he had no such luck, as he walked into the dining room and found Gerard muttering something to himself as he battered a dozen Coco Pops with his spoon.

Tentatively, Mikey took a seat beside his brother, and fixated his gaze upon the mess he was making inside of that cereal bowl. "In the kindest way possible, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Mmm..." Gerard groaned, pushing the cereal bowl down the table and throwing his head down in place of it. "I fucked up."

"Wonderful." Mikey let out a kind of disappointed, yet expectant sigh, because Gerard was always fucking ruining his life somehow, and in fact, Mikey had become somewhat accustomed to it as of recent, which really didn't bode well for either of them psychologically. "Care to elaborate?"

"Frank." He grumbled, turning to face Mikey, and watching as his face fell. "I... I don't even know, I really don't know what happened, but now he hates me, now everyone hates me, and I slept with Lindsey, and even that ended in an argument, and you know what? Nothing makes sense."

"Maybe you should stop sleeping with the whole world?" Mikey added as just a casual suggestion, because he knew his brother well enough to know that there wasn't a chance in hell that he could just not have sex.

"Mmm... but then it's boring." He let out a defeated sigh, before turning to Mikey and raising his eyebrows a little, turning the tables, perhaps, "why's Pete Wentz upstairs, in your bedroom?"

"Because I was too stupid to say no to him." Mikey let out a defeated kind of sigh. "I hate him, but I really don't, like you get that?"

"Yeah, all the time with people I wanna fuck, Mikey, therefore you have a thing for Pete, can confirm, I am illuminati as fuck." Gerard grumbled, sitting back in his chair, the stomachache as he did so, giving him a million reasons to regret the vodka from last night.

"Gerard there's 'people you want to fuck' and 'people you haven't met yet'." Mikey shook his head a little, "you're the whore, I'm asexual, it's quite ridiculous, don't you think?"

"Hey, don't call me a whore!" Gerard protested, somehow caring just the slightest about his reputation for the first time ever.

"Gerard, your email address is 'gwhore69-'" Mikey protested, but Gerard wasn't having any of it.

"I made that when I was drunk." And that was literally all he had to say for himself, and perhaps that was simply for the better, because Mikey was rapidly losing patience. "Look, Mikey, just... what's going on with you and Pete?"

"Nothing!" Mikey protested, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well, what's going to happen with you and Pete?" Gerard smirked at him, obviously far too proud of himself for that one.

"Well, I don't know, I don't have a time machine, do I?" Mikey let out a sigh, happy that at the very least, this wasn't a situation that Pete himself was involved with, because then, he reckoned he really wouldn't ever hear the end of it.

"So, you don't know, so things could happen, hey, M-" And that was the very point that Mikey slapped his brother.

"So, what's happened with Frank? Explain in detail before I ask Frank myself and take all he says as the absolute truth, no matter how much he paints you as an asshole."

"Okay, fine he slept over, there was awkwardness, and I thought he was asleep, and I was on the phone to Bert at like two-"

"Bert?" Mikey exclaimed, his eyes widening furiously. "I fucking- why? Gerard, why? Why the fuck do you need Bert McCracken in your life?"

"He called, not me, and I don't know it was late, I was kind of lonely, and drunk, and confused, and I don't know, but Frank was awake and he could hear the whole thing and in the morning he did this shitty thing where he got Bert on speakerphone and made me pick between the two of them right then and right there-"

"If you chose Bert I will not hesitate to throw you out a window-"

"I chose neither." Gerard let out a sigh, letting his gaze hit the floor. "And now they both hate me, and then I was more drunk and lonely, and Lindsey Ballato seemed like a good enough bet, because she was fucked up like me then, and we fucked, and it wasn't anything special, but we got into a fight afterwards; I think she's starting to hate this presence she has as 'school slut', or whatever, which is very much not Lindsey, but I don't know... I think something big has changed in her personal life or something-"

"Why don't you just ask her?" Mikey raised his eyebrows, shaking his head at his brother. "Instead of making assumptions, why don't you just ask?"

"Because she's probably going to be at school right now-"

"That's the worst excuse I have ever heard in my life, Gerard Arthur Way, fucking sort your life out, okay? I'm going to talk to Frank about this and you're not going to talk to Bert, ever, got it?" Gerard nodded, because fuck, Mikey did kind of scare him when he was angry.

"And do I not get to talk to Pete about what's going on between you two?"

"No, I- Pete's... no." Mikey shook his head a million times over, having perhaps just as many heart attacks as Pete Wentz himself appeared in the doorway, half asleep, and smiling like an idiot.

"Mikey, you abandoned me-"

"You fell asleep." Mikey sighed out, shaking his head, and shooting Gerard a 'help me' glance, which his brother took great pleasure in ignoring as he got up to make himself his seventeenth cup of coffee that morning.

-

The two were on the outskirts of the city, sat in some half polluted field, which some farmer would probably end up kicking them out of, but Frank reckoned when he came close enough to see the 'voodoo doll' Jamia was making of Lindsey Ballato, he may be more than a little concerned.

In fact, Frank was a little concerned, perhaps more than a little concerned, but he kept quite and continued to smoke without judgement, and mostly for fear than Jamia would combat his opposition to the idea of making voodoo dolls, by making one of him, and then proceeding to burn that too.

Sure, Frank wasn't exactly the type to believe in voodoo dolls and that kind of shit, but he also wasn't just plain stupid enough to fucking try risking his chances.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Frank couldn't stop himself, as Jamia snatched his lighter from his palm, and clicked it a few times, before pausing to answer his question.

"Fuck, do I know, Frank? Do I have a fucking clue about anything at all? No, I don't, but I'm still going to fucking do it, because I'm not like Lindsey, I don't care, I'm not made up entirely of ego and people's expectations; I'm a person, not a fucking doll, Frank, and you get that, don't you? Because without this exterior," Jamia held up the doll, waving it almost dangerously close to Frank's face, "she's nothing."

Jamia threw the doll to the dirt floor and set fire to it with the lighter.

The two watched in silence as it burned into a horrible blackened mess worthy of some shitty tumblr horror blog; the doll had never been to much of a great standard to begin with, starting off as a pom-pom and pipe cleaner contraption: a pipe cleaner torso, two pipe cleaner arms, two pipe cleaner legs, one pom-pom head, and two pom-pom boobs - different sizes, which was a detail Jamia had put the utmost spite into, and of course, Lindsey's face, cut out from a photo of Jamia and her, that Jamia had perhaps once cared for.

As the craft material 'voodoo doll' Lindsey burned away into an unnerving blackened mess, Frank took a moment to remind himself just how fucked up and scared teenage girls were, especially as Jamia turned to him with a smirk, "do you want to make one of Gerard?"

Frank laughed a little, and shook his head; sure, Gerard was a dickhead, but Frank wasn't going to go as far as to burn a crudely made voodoo doll of him, sure, Frank would ruin Gerard's chances with Bert, but this? No, he'd already fucked Gerard enough, he reckoned.

Frank hadn't noticed Jamia taking her cellphone out to take a photo of the voodoo doll mess, until she let out some sort of horrified shriek and nearly dropped her phone into the half burned out mess of kids craft materials and bitter emotions.

"What?" Frank exclaimed, eyes widening like hell, "Jamia, I'm gonna set this fire out, before you step in it." He shook his head, pouring some of his can of diet coke onto it to settle the flames.

"Frank." Jamia shook her head as she cradled her phone in her hands, "look, on Snapchat, look, fuck- don't even, I've screenshotted it, I don't even care, I want her to know-" Jamia held her phone out to Frank, who, after a moment's tentative reluctance, took it from her grasp, and well, had nothing short of a heart attack as he laid his eyes over the snapchat that Jamia had screenshotted.

The photo was pretty simple: taken by Lindsey, and with Gerard beside her, the two laying in bed, with the bottom half of the photo scribbled over in black, making it beyond obvious that they were at least topless together, in that bed, and of course, the caption, written in innocent little white letters on that fucking bitch of a black banner, lay: 'guys eat your hearts out - G's best in bed', and a winky face emoji that Frank kind of wanted to punch out of the screen, but he didn't exactly get too much chance, before a text message notification appeared at the top of Jamia's phone:

A simple, 'what the fuck?' from the contact name 'Whore Bitch', which Frank assume was Lindsey, and then, just as that notification disappeared, 'screenshot? really. wow.'.

"Jamia, she's... texted you." Frank let out a sigh, handing the phone back to her, and watching as her eyes ignited in something that really did nothing but a truly wonderful job of unnerving Frank. "You probably shouldn't reply."

"Says who?" Jamia glared at him, and before Frank could consider replying, his own phone was vibrating in his pocket, however he found he had a call, not a text, and not from Lindsey, but from Gerard, and he probably should have followed his own advice and not answered it, but fuck, Frank was just kind of honouring the miracle that they'd somehow managed to get reception in a fucking field.

"You saw the snapchat, didn't you? Fuck, it's not like that- it's... I..." Gerard starting speaking, practically yelling down the phoneline the very moment Frank had picked up.

"It's what, Gerard? You know what me and Jamia are in a field right now, and she just burned a voodoo doll of Lindsey and offered to make one of you and burn it for me, and I said no, but you know what? I regret that now."

"What the fuck?" Gerard wasn't quite expecting that kind of response to say the least. "Look, Lindsey's just bragging, she's just... I didn't even know she took the photo, and it wasn't like that, it wasn't planned: we were both upset and there was one hell of a fight, and Frank please, I'm calling you, because I care about you, and I-"

Frank directed his words at Jamia, but spoke loud enough to ensure that Gerard could hear, "hey, Jamia, can you make that voodoo doll right the fuck now?"

And Gerard could just about catch Jamia's, "fuck yeah, Frank, fuck yeah."

"Voodoo dolls, really, Frank?" Gerard shook his head in disbelief, "call me back when you're not so stoned, how about that? Because I want to sort things out, I really do, but we can't when you're acting like a child-"

"I'm not the one fucking the entire town, Gerard, now come on, don't kid yourself; we have nothing, there's nothing to sort out. Delete my number, I'm Mikey's friend, not yours."

Frank grinned as he hung up the phone and saw Jamia retrieving the bag of pom-poms and pipe cleaners from her pocket, like some sort of crafty lesbian goth witch.

-

hey pals lmao i hope u like this chapter??? ok??? vibe aafsds sorry im so tired pls vote and comment i love you i might go to sleep <3