Alicia had left work that day - two hours early and with a pistol in her handbag, and far too much adrenaline in her veins, because for such a sin - it felt so good, and maybe, just maybe she shouldn't drink vodka, but maybe, just maybe the world should step up its game if life was getting so boring that she was forced to resort to creating her own kind of fun with a gun.

The first shot was shaky and kind of nervous: the darkness in the back of an alleyway and someone that didn't deserve it at all: just a person, but just someone with a skull for a bullet to crack open, and for Alicia, that was more than enough.

It was only a small hand size pistol and therefore, the bang wasn't too loud, which admittedly did work in her favour, but still despite the man's bleeding body on the floor before her, it didn't quite feel real and despite his death, she still felt like she hadn't really done anything.

She stood in silence for entirely far too long as she just about struggled to accept what she'd just done, because maybe, vodka or not, this was a bad idea - this was a life-ruining idea, but maybe, just maybe Alicia Simmons didn't care one little bit.

And that confidence was over before it even started with the firm grip of a hand on her shoulder as she practically died on the spot, much in contrast to the guy a few feet away, who did actually lie dead on the floor, and the pistol in her hands that very much revealed to just who'd shot him.

"What are you still doing here?" The voice was deep, and kind of rough, yet somehow just a little off and unplaceable, but even if this was the voice of pubescent Justin Bieber, it would have still been enough to have Alicia shaking like hell. "I could have been a cop, I could have been a person with any sort of moral complex and you could have been done for right now. Put the gun away at the very least."

Alicia followed the voice's instruction and hid the gun away in her handbag.

"Good. At least you didn't shoot him out in the open- you're a beginner, but you're not an idiot - I can tell. I don't care why or why not you did it: I'm not a feelings person, I'm a reality person - you shot him and that's that. I'm in no position to make a judge of your character." And really, for some sort of intimidating, psychotic asshole, he was really quite a considerate guy. "You do need to get out of here though. Walk with me and I'll be your alibi, after all, the police are going to find this body - we just don't have to be here when they do- unless you have a death wish, like your 'friend' here, that is."

"Who the hell are you?" Alicia exhaled loudly, finally turning to face the voice that had been pretty much haunting her head for the last few minutes. "You're a girl?" She exclaimed as she turned and found herself face to face with a dark haired, tall, and fucking intimidating looking woman.

"So are you." She noted with a snort. "I'm Lindsey. You?"

"Alicia." She practically forced the word out as Lindsey grabbed her by the hand and dragged her back through the alleyway and to god knows where. "Where are we going?"

"To a friend's: I need to tell him about the fact that you shot someone- otherwise he's going to think it was one of his men, and then someone's going to get into trouble for nothing-"

"His men? What is this? The mafia?" Alicia exclaimed, the vodka beginning to wear off for the most part, and now reality seemed so fucking messed up and she soon came to realise just how out of her depth she was right now.

"It's a gang - he's a gang leader, but he's a nice guy as long as you're nice to him. I think he'll like you anyway." Lindsey added a smile to the end of her sentence, as if it was somehow going to miraculously make Alicia take her mind off the unavoidable reality of what had just occurred. "Why did you shoot that guy? Was he a particularly psycho ex-boyfriend or something?"

"No, I didn't- I didn't even know him... I just... I felt like it... I was a bit drunk earlier today and I made a plan and my head was all adrenaline and nerves and now I'm all panic and mistake, and fuck- I killed someone, Lindsey- I-" Lindsey cut her off, preferably before she started crying, because she really did not feel like dealing with that right now.

"It's fine. He was probably an asshole - well, we'll find out when his death gets broadcast on the news anyway- don't worry, if you don't have a criminal record, it's practically impossible that you'll be caught if you don't even know the guy. That's why psychopaths often avoid being caught for lengthy periods of time: the police think logically, the look for motives, but psychopaths don't kill with motives, they don't kill with reason, they don't kill with emotion, and they don't kill like humans. It's quite clever, actually." Lindsey flashed Alicia an 'I'm not a psychopath, I promise' smile with that, which really wasn't helping matters in the slightest.

"Are you calling me a psychopath?" Alicia asked, eyes wide.

"Hardly." Lindsey almost scoffed at her statement. "You have regret, you're a mess, you're nervous - it's emotion everywhere with you, but whatever, I like that, I like you, Alicia. I'm not a psychopath, either, I just work with a lot of them."

"Work?" Alicia couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that.

"I'm a lawyer, specifically the lawyer for associates of the guy I'm taking you to meet - Pete Wentz. I'm a pretty good lawyer as well - I basically get whatever I want as long as these guys don't go to prison. Pete's a nice guy, really." And that fucking smile really was not helping.

"Isn't that corrupt?" Alicia asked, trying not to let her jaw drop so far it would completely disconnect from her face entirely.

"You just shot someone. The only thing you care about now is the hope that I don't have to be your lawyer." And with that, Lindsey winked, unlocking the backdoor to a rather inconspicuous building and gesturing Alicia inside.

"Is this like some sort of gang hideout, because, it doesn't really look like one, I-" Alicia was cut off.

"No, this is Pete Wentz's house." Lindsey finished for her, and almost as if on cue, a particularly emo guy, dressed in all black made his way into the kitchen that Lindsey had Alicia had just made their way into.

"Now, I'm going to ask this before it gets awkward later." Pete ignored Lindsey completely and turned to Alicia. "Are you a prostitute?"

"What?" Her eyes practically popped out of their sockets as she blushed a terrible shade of tomato red.

"Okay, I'll take that as a no - no offense intended." Pete shrugged it off, finally deciding to acknowledge Lindsey. "How are we, Miss Ballato?"

"Mmm... I was on my way here anyway, but I found Alicia here - saw her shoot a guy dead in the front of the alleyway. It was kind of impressive and really quite badass, but that's going to be problematic for you, isn't it?" Lindsey made her way into the actual kitchen part of the room, rummaging around in the cupboards and pulling out a pack of chocolate digestive biscuits, before making her way back across the room to Alicia.

"Kudos to you, Alicia. Seriously congrats - killing someone isn't easy, and you kind of look like someone with moral values so I'm pretty sure he deserved it." Pete added with a shit eating grin, and really, just how relaxed everyone seemed to be about the guy she'd just killed was really starting to creep her out a little. "I'll blame it on whoever pisses me off next - don't worry."

Lindsey sat down at the table, gesturing for Alicia to do the same, and offering her a biscuit from the packet.

"Do I not get a biscuit?" Pete exclaimed, utterly horrified at the fact that Lindsey had thought to offer him one first: nevermind the traumatised girl they'd just met who was convinced that she'd just ruined her life, Pete just knew he was always far more important.

Lindsey rolled her eyes as he sat down, passing the packet in his direction. "You're like a two year old, serious - how the fuck are you a gang leader? And how the fuck haven't you even been stabbed once yet."

"Because unlike other people, Bert McCracken, I actually ensure that people get the drugs I owe them."

"Oh, you're a drug dealer as well - fantastic." Alicia exclaimed, shaking her head as she came to accept just how fucked she was right now.

"Would you like anything?" Pete asked with a smirk, and gaining a slap from Lindsey in response.

"I'd like some form of alcohol if possible- actually, screw that- I need some form of alcohol right now, or I'm really going to end up dying."

"That'd be my pleasure-" Pete grinned, getting up and making his way over to the alcohol cupboard, and grabbing the strongest thing he could find within the first few seconds of looking, because it was Pete, and he wasn't actually going to put more than the minimal amount of effort into anything ever.

"More like an excuse for you to drink." Lindsey corrected him, rolling her eyes, but making no further comment, and definitely not trying to stop him, because with someone as stubborn as Pete Wentz, there really was no point.

"It's only polite." Pete corrected her with a smirk, and god, he was far too fucking proud of himself for that one, without a doubt. "You drinking with us, Lindsey, or are you going to be a responsible asshole?"

"Pete, it's like two in the afternoon." She attempted to stop him for the final time, but of course, this was Pete Wentz and there's no stopping him.

"I’m getting a headstart- anyway, you know, Alicia, I'm really quite disappointed that you're not a prostitute: no one's heard anything from Iero for days now." Pete dropped a minor bombshell, well for Alicia, as he poured the three of them a drink, before sitting down again, and then downing the majority of his drink in one go.

"I heard there's some other dude who got all possessive other him, but for then on? Fuck knows - I just hope he's alright, he's a nice guy - in comparison to everyone else you have sex with." Lindsey finished with a shrug as Alicia continued to stare between the two of them, struck in a horrible state of silence.

"He's a good fuck, as well - actually deserves what he gets paid-"

"Yeah, I'm eating, no thanks!" Lindsey protested, groaning as she rolled her eyes at Pete.

"You're eating a biscuit." Pete reminded her: eyebrows raised.

"So? I'm still eating-"

"Is this Frank Iero?" Alicia finally managed to get the words out, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked from Pete to Lindsey and back again.

"Yeah..." Pete stuttered out, just a little puzzled at how she knew his favourite prostitute. "How do you know him?"

"He's my boyfriend's brother's boyfriend - I met him a few weeks ago at a coffee shop with my boyfriend and his brother." She explained, her eyes widening as she struggled to believe what she was hearing, and with Pete it was much the same.

"More like someone your boyfriend's brother paid to be his boyfriend." Pete scoffed with wide eyes, only for Lindsey to slap him for the second time, and for him to shut up sharpish. "So, you like... could contact him...? Find out if he's okay and what's up?"

"I don't have his number, but I have my brother's boyfriend's - Gerard. I have his number, I could try and ask him or get Frank to talk if you want?" And from the look on Pete's face, she didn't even have to wait for him to answer before she grabbed her cellphone and began to call Gerard.

"This is ridiculous." Lindsey exclaimed, shaking her head in Alicia's direction. "You're one of the best people I've ever met, you know? Even if I didn't exactly meet you in the most conventional of ways."

"Screw conventional." Alicia smiled back at her, and Pete tried his best, and for once succeeded, in not making some really fucked up and awkward comment about lesbians. 

-

"Oh, I like the naked painting, it kind of adds to it, you know?" Frank gestured ridiculously with his hands as Gerard presented him with his latest masterpiece.

"Are you sure you're talking about the actual artwork here or just the fact that you look like at my ass when I paint?" Gerard asked, eyebrows raised as he tried his best to be even the slightest little bit angry at Frank Iero but soon found himself failing fucking miserably.

"Your ass is a piece of art, though, you've just got to admit." Frank winked, pulling his knees up to his chest and grinning at the artist as he tried not to just punch his boyfriend in the face. "The painting is amazing, as fucking always, you're talented, Gerard, and you're so much more than painting people's porn, you know that? You shouldn't have to even paint this shit, you should be in a national fucking gallery, dude, and not in this dump painting dicks to get by."

Gerard shrugged it off, never thinking that Frank was lying to him, but highly suspecting that the twenty four year old was just a little biased in such a judgement, after all, Gerard could paint, but he wasn't that good. "I can dream, whatever." He propped the painting up in the corner of the room and made his way back to the sofa, letting Frank using him as a human pillow, which was something, he'd kind of been forced into getting used to ever since Frank had insisted upon staying here.

"I'm serious, Gerard." Frank assured him, grabbing the artist's hand, and in turn, his attention. "You're crazy good, and you could go places with this, just without the porn, like paint pictures of dogs in parks or something, whatever."

"I can only draw the human anatomy, I reassure you of that, ask me to draw a dog or a park and there will be five year olds that could do better - I promise you." Gerard rolled his eyes, curling his fingers around Frank's palm and squeezing it a little. "I'm not that special, I fucking guarantee that."

"You are, shut up." Frank sat up at that, meeting Gerard's eyes. "You're the most important and most special person I know and I can fucking promise you that, Gerard Way. Anyway, surely you can just draw people then... people in clothes, without their genitals showing, people not having sex, people just existing, just draw people."

"Like there's anyone that's going to let me draw them, that's ridiculous, Frank, there's nothing to just people. Sex is special, it has passion and it's important, whereas, people are just people, ordinary made up people and nothing to anyone, and it's irrelevant - I don't want to just paint people... they mean nothing."

"Then paint me." Frank piped up after the dramatic silence that followed Gerard's deep and meaningful confession had passed, such a silence was of course compulsory and in no way ridiculous at all. "You can paint me. I matter to you, so it's going to matter, and it's going to mean something."

"Yeah, like you have the patience to stay still for hours so I can paint you, fucking dream on, Iero. It's a nice idea, but it's not realistic, no one wants to buy a picture of just Frank Iero-"

"Of course, no one would ever care about when I still have my clothes on. I fucking know the drill, Gerard, I'm so fucking sorry that I even suggested the idea, and I'm so fucking sorry that you just want to be stuck here being nothing forever, because I fucking, I don't fucking care-" Frank was, thankfully, cut off by the sound of Gerard's cellphone, and the twenty four year old couldn't help but glare as Gerard turned away from him to grab it from the coffee table and answer the call.

"Hello?" The call was from an unknown number, and Gerard couldn't but help feel just a little nervous, especially with this asshole that basically wanted to kill him for ever even being seen with Frank: even if neither of them had heard from the guy in a few days now, Gerard couldn't help the fact that the thought was always at the back of his mind.

"Gerard? It's Alicia, you know, Mikey's girlfriend - we met at that coffee shop, remember?" Gerard was just a little shocked to hear Mikey's girlfriend on the other end of the call, as he had no recollection of ever even giving her his phone number, but whatever, Mikey must have just given it to her.

"Yeah, is everything okay? Is Mikey alright?" He stressed his voice, as his mind began to dart from place to place with every reason as to why she could possibly be calling. Frank raised his eyebrows a little at this, having stayed silent ever since the phone had rung, and had now resorted to just sitting in the most angsty manner he could muster as he waited for Gerard to finish his phone call so he could continue screaming at him - it was just polite, really.

"Yeah, Mikey's fine, Gerard, this is about Frank... is uhh, he with you or can you like-"

"Frank?" Gerard exclaimed, meeting the twenty four year old's gaze as he spoke.

"What about me?" Frank perked up, glaring at Gerard as he moved closer to the phone, almost straining to here what the person on the over end was saying.

"Is he there with you?" Alicia asked, unable to help but wonder if it was really as Pete had said and that Frank was nothing but a pretend boyfriend to impress Mikey. "Can you put him on the phone? Tell him Lindsey wants to talk to him."

"Yeah, he's right next to me." Gerard pulled the phone away from his ear, and turned to Frank, now addressing him. "Alicia, Mikey's girlfriend, was on the phone, she says someone called Lindsey wants to talk to you."

"How the fuck does she know Lindsey?" Frank sighed out, looking between the phone and Gerard and eventually grabbing it and putting it to his ear.

"Who's Lindsey?" Gerard asked, meeting Frank's gaze with a great deal of confusion, but it was too late to even expect an answer from Frank.

"Lindsey?" He spoke into the phone, his eyes widening a little, and really, Frank was beyond nervous to even answer the phone in the first place.

"Oh, so you are alive. Wow, Frank, for fuck's sake, no one's seen you in far too long- we heard about that guy, and... I was getting worried and Pete was just getting really horny."

"Oh, well tell Pete I'm terribly sorry that I haven't been able to sleep with him recently and that I truly hope that it isn't affecting his life too much." Frank rolled his eyes, leaving Gerard to raise his eyebrows a little as he couldn't help but wonder just who this Pete was.

"Yeah, also 'boyfriend', really, Iero? Alicia says you're dating that Gerard guy, are you serious? Like, I don't mean are you in a serious relationship, but like, are you fucking shitting me here?"

"No, Lindsey, I have a boyfriend, how hard is that for you to really comprehend?"

"Well, you're you. Look, is there any chance you could get to Pete's house... I need to talk about that thing with you, and this guy that practically wants you dead... look, we can sort that out, get over here."

"Why should I? That thing, that's fucking- no, I don't want in, Lindsey, I don't want to be involved in that shit- it's illegal-"

"Frank, you're a prostitute." Lindsey reminded him.

"Yeah, but-"

"Iero, come over, I miss you. Fucking bring your boyfriend if you want, I don't care, but come over, I'll even bribe Pete not to hit on you. Say yes, please."

"Fine." Frank snapped, rolling his eyes and ending the call, handing Gerard back his cellphone.

"And what was that?" Gerard asked, eyebrows raised so high that they were higher than Pete was right now.

"We're going out, look, I'll explain on the way."

"Fine."

-

hey guys:) the title is accurate as fuck but i dont even care ok lmao. votes and comments would be super nice:)))) I love you all<3