Pete and Patrick come over a couple days later while Gerard has to work. It's June 20th. 17 days until I get the lump cut out and tested.

Knock, knock, knock.

There's a long silence and I have to quickly build up the will to pull myself out of bed because there are times that I really can not get out of bed no matter how much I try. I want to, I just don't have the will and I just... can't...

"Michael, Love, do you want me to let your friends in?" I hear Mama ask from where she stands at my door. I swear she's a life saver.

"Yeah, thanks," I reply, looking up at her with a weak smile. She smiles back with her own gentle smile, caring and motherly. I've always loved that about her. She always lets me do whatever makes me happy as long as I'm home in time for dinner. Okay with where I go as long as I don't hurt myself too bad. As long as I know she loves me. I always have.

She comes forward and kisses my forehead gently, which, most kids would force away, but I don't mind it. It makes me feel safer inside.

"Love you, Mama."

"Love you, too, Darling," she replies, pulling away and heading to the front door.

"Good evening, Mrs. Way," I hear Patrick say, "Is Mikey home right now?"

"Right in his room, Sweetie, who's this?" Mama replies.

"I'm Pete, uh, Peter Wentz, but Pete's just fine." I hear the dark haired boy reply. I smile a little at his voice. He's cute. I think I've said that before. Why am I mentioning this again? Why am I thinking of him different than Patrick or Gerard?

"Nice to meet you, Pete, I'm Donna but you can call me whatever you'd like, Darling. Go right ahead. If you need anything, I'm here, don't be afraid to ask."

"Thank you, Mama," I hear Patrick say. He calls her Mama sometimes and it's cute. He's basically a brother to me, though.

Footsteps make their way to my room and I look up reluctantly at Patrick and Pete—who has a Polaroid camera around his neck—both standing at the door with dark expressions.

"Hey, Man, you doing alright?" Patrick asks softly, sitting at the edge of the bed. I shrug in reply, his fake smile soon leaving.

My gaze leaves the blond and instead looks up to Pete who has a notebook in hand and my eyebrows raise slightly when he hands it over. It has a smooth, brown leather cover and a thin, black ribbon bookmark attached to the spine. It's beautiful and I feel my heart flutter a little in my chest.

"What's this?" I ask quietly.

"Uh... Patrick said you liked to write... and I know you're not in the best position right now..." Pete replies quietly, avoiding my gaze, "I hope it's alright?"

I smile as I flip through the pages, each paper lined and at the end there's a patch of them lineless with black paper to draw.

"I love it, Pete," I smile, then look up, "Thank you."

He gives me a hug and I chuckle a little at the contact, pulling back soon after.

"So why did you show up?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. Pete looks to Patrick and Patrick looks to Pete and a grin crosses over both of their lips as they look back to me.

"We wanted to take you on a road trip." Pete says.

"To Seattle." Patrick finishes. I raise my eyebrows and furrow them soon after in confusion and surprise.

"What do you mean? Why?"

"It's for... its for your bucket list." Patrick says, "I want to help you before..."

He looks away after a short hesitation.

"I wanted to help you. And I want to go wherever you want to go, and Pete and I saved up some money."

Pete digs around in his pocket and pulls out four slips of paper.

Blink-182
with Mayday Parade
Key Arena
305 Harrison Street, Seattle, WA 98109, United States
General admission
Saturday, July 1st, 2017
No refunds/no exchanges

"Oh my god!"