3. Amber dies on Amber Wallace: Consulting Detective.

I winced as the tattoo artist's needle pierced my skin, and I looked toward Gabe, who was grinning maniacally next to me. Pain shot through my leg while I questioned why the hell I was doing this in the first place, but then again, how could I have possibly known that Amber Wallace would die on the TV show that bore her name?

Somehow, Gabe had known, and now, he was making me pay for it. "Is this almost done?" I asked as I considered the pros and cons of breathing.

"You know, you weren't this much of a chicken last Thursday," Gabe commented.

"It also hurt a lot less last Thursday," I said. I had gotten my first tattoo at this same tattoo parlor - the only one in the area - on my eighteenth birthday, after several unsuccessful attempts to get one using Gabe's fake ID. Brendon and Gabe had paid for it as a birthday present, and it had hardly hurt at all, in stark contrast to today.

When I watched a serial killer brutally murder Amber the night before, I knew that I was screwed. I nearly backed out of the bet when I saw the tattoo that Gabe had designed for me the next morning - a picture of his face with the words "Gabey Baby Made Me Go Bad" underneath. "I'm not getting that," I told him.

"Oh, come on, Pete," Gabe said. "I restrained myself. You know that I could come up with something much worse if I wanted to."

He was right, and in the end, I relented. I was a man of my word, after all.

The tattoo artist gave me a strange look when I showed her what I wanted, but she understood once I explained that I had lost a bet. Once she started working, she thankfully didn't ask too many questions.

Eventually, the pain abated, and I passed the time by chatting with Gabe. "Even if Amber hadn't died, that episode would have been completely insane," I said.

"No kidding," Gabe said. "I totally didn't see it coming that Amber's sidekick was really the killer in disguise."

"Really?" I said. "I knew that something was up with him from the start of the episode."

"I didn't," Gabe said.

"Aren't you a psychic or something now that those visions of yours are coming true?" I said. "How did you not know about that?"

"I only saw Amber dying in the vision," Gabe said. "I didn't see anything from the rest of the episode." He looked down at my leg and said, "That tattoo's coming along nicely."

"I don't think I can see it from here," I said, leaning over to try to look at the tattoo. I could only see a few lines across my leg - without moving, I couldn't see the whole thing properly.

"Well, I'm here to let you know that it's beautiful so far," Gabe said.

I rolled my eyes and asked, "Is the tattoo almost done? I'm going to be late for work if this takes much longer."

"My face is just about done, and as I said, it looks amazing," Gabe said. "The words aren't quite there yet."

I looked toward the clock - my shift was supposed to start in twenty minutes. "Don't you have something to do other than sitting here and watching me get a tattoo?" I asked.

"I was going to get a haircut this afternoon, but I canceled that because I knew that I would win the bet," Gabe said. "The visions haven't been wrong yet, which is really starting to scare me."

"Yeah, me too," I said. Knowing that Gabe's visions were coming true only made me more worried about him.

Fifteen minutes passed by before the tattoo artist finally said, "Your tattoo is done." I moved my leg to see, and I was surprised by how much my new tattoo really did resemble Gabe. The tattoo artist had done a great job of recreating his face, and I couldn't help but smile when I looked at the tattoo, even if I had only gotten it because I lost a bet.

"I told you it was beautiful," Gabe said.

"It does look pretty good," I admitted.

"We should take a picture to capture the moment," Gabe said.

"That would make me even more late for work," I said.

"It's not like your boss is going to care," Gabe said, and again, he was right. I took out my camera and handed it to the tattoo artist, who took a picture of Gabe and I. Gabe, of course, felt the need to make a silly face, while I simply smiled for the camera. The tattoo artist gave me my camera back, and I immediately left.

"I'll see you later, Gabe," I said. "I really do need to get to work."

"Sounds good," Gabe said. "Maybe you can come over to my house on Tuesday?"

"That sounds like fun," I said. "I'll see you then."

I left the tattoo parlor and sprinted to Fall Out Bros. Pizza, conveniently located on East 12th Street, right next to the newly opened Tea Monkey. When I got there, The Clash were blaring in the back of the shop, and I resisted the urge to sing along. My boss, a man in his late twenties with dyed black hair, green eyes, very strong opinions on President Reagan, and more punk rock in his record collection than anyone else I knew, leaned back in his chair, watching my coworkers make deep dish pizza.

"Hey, Billie Joe," I said. "Sorry, I'm late."

"It's no big deal," Billie said. "There's only one delivery that needs to be completed, and it's not too far from here. Take Joe Trohman with you, and don't eat the pizza before you deliver it this time."

"Okay, Billie!" I exclaimed.

I found Joe helping one of the chefs make pizza dough, and he turned around immediately when I tapped him on the shoulder. "Pete!" he said. "You're finally here."

"Billie wants us to make a delivery," I said.

Joe sighed, took a pizza box, and headed toward the Fall Out Bros. Pizza car - a dull white car with the company logo sloppily painted on the side. I climbed into the driver's seat, and the two of us headed toward the house that we were supposed to deliver the pizza to.

"Where were you, Pete?" Joe asked. "You were supposed to be at work at four o'clock."

"I was getting a tattoo," I said.

"Wasn't that your excuse on Thursday?" Joe said.

"It was my birthday on Thursday. I just happened to spend my birthday getting a tattoo," I said. "Besides, Billie let me take the day off. He even gave me a free pizza for it."

Joe shrugged and asked, "Can I see your new tattoo?"

"Maybe after we deliver the pizza," I said. "It's on my leg, so I can't exactly show you while I'm driving."

The delivery itself was fairly uneventful. Joe brought the pizza up to the door, while I waited in the car. When Joe returned to the car, I showed him the tattoo of Gabe's face. "Is that Gabe Saporta?" he said.

"Yeah," I said. "I lost a bet to him."

"That makes a lot more sense now," Joe said.

I started the car, and Joe and I headed back to Fall Out Bros. Pizza. When we returned, someone, most likely Billie, had turned up the music, and there were a few customers in the restaurant waiting for their pizza. Billie had a lot more deliveries for us, and Joe and I spent most of the rest of the night delivering pizza. When we were finally done, Billie Joe handed me a slice of pizza.

"Thanks," I said as I devoured the pizza.

"It's the least I could do," Billie said. "You've worked hard tonight."

Fall Out Bros. Pizza was closing for the night, but there was still plenty to do. The last few customers needed to be served, and all of us needed to clean the kitchen. Joe and I spent the next hour or so washing dishes, while Billie and a few of the other employees did some of the more complicated tasks.

All of a sudden, "Cherry Bomb" started playing, and Billie grinned. "This song just takes me back," he explained to me. "Y'know, I used to be in a band back when I lived in the Bay Area. We opened for the Runaways once. It was perhaps our finest moment."

Sometimes, I thought that I might turn into Billie Joe Armstrong one day. He was only about ten years older than I was, but he had a thousand stories from when he around my age. He had been an early adopter of the punk rock lifestyle, and he knew just about everyone important in the scene. In the midst of sex (with anyone who would lie down), drugs (champagne, cocaine, gasoline, and most things in between), and rock 'n roll (the best part, of course), Billie Joe gave it all up and moved to suburban Chicago. Now, he was nothing more than a washed up pizzeria manager. As I saw it, Billie was living proof that I had to have fun while I was young.

The next day, I spent almost all of the day at Fall Out Bros. Pizza, making deliveries, chatting with my fellow employees, and eating pizza when I had the time. Unlike a lot of people, I enjoyed my job, and it wasn't just because of the free pizza. I genuinely liked Billie Joe and all of my coworkers, and I was a little bit disappointed when I had to leave. After work was over, Mom picked me up and drove me home. When I got there, I noticed that I had a few voicemails from Brendon, but more importantly, there was a letter in the mailbox. Sure enough, it was addressed to me. I tore it open and read Mikey's latest later.

Dear Pete,

I'm sorry to hear about Gabe's insanity and Coach Lisa's unwillingness to change your team colors. Hopefully, things will get better on both of those fronts. Also, congratulations again on graduating from high school!

My friends are thankfully still sane, but my summer has been terribly boring so far. I thought that the summer before college would be relaxing and fun, but so far, it's just been so dull. The only major development is that Gerard's boyfriend, Frank, has been coming by more often. I don't know how the hell Gerard has a boyfriend, given that he rarely leaves the house, while I still don't have a girlfriend, and probably won't for the foreseeable future.

I listened to Tinderbox, like you suggested. It's a decent album, but I still don't think that goth rock is really my thing.

I'd love to come to Chicago, but unfortunately, I don't have a car, and my parents would never let me borrow theirs. I agree that it's been way too long since we've seen each other in person though. I can't believe that it's been seven years since you were last in New Jersey! Maybe you should come to Belleville to visit us. I talked to my parents about it, and they said that if you come, you could stay in our house. Gerard, as usual, didn't leave the basement to offer an opinion. I think that it would be fun to have to visit though. You could even bring Gabe and Brendon along. I'd love to meet them in real life.

Make sure to send me some pictures from your trip to Chicago! Also, tell me about what's going on in Shermer. Your letters are just about the only interesting thing happening around here.

Your disenchanted friend,

Mikey Way

I wanted to write back to Mikey immediately and tell him that I could come to visit him in New Jersey, but I had to ask Mom, Dad, Gabe, and Brendon first. I talked to my parents first, and when I showed Mom the letter, she grinned.

"I haven't seen Donna in forever," Mom said. "Maybe we can all take a family vacation to see the Ways."

"I think Mikey just invited me and my friends..." I said. Mom and Mrs. Way had been college roommates, and I had first met Mikey on a family trip. However, I didn't exactly want my parents intruding on my time with Mikey.

"You, Gabe, and Brendon already had your graduation trip," Mom said. "Besides, I'm not sure that I'm comfortable letting you drive halfway across the country by yourself."

"It's not that big of a deal, Dale," Dad said. "Pete's an adult now."

"Dad's right," I said. "I am an adult now."

"Pete, you can visit Mikey if you'd like," Dad said. "I'll even let you have the DeLorean."

"I'm drawing the line at that," Mom said. I didn't mention that the DeLorean had almost been stolen the last time that I had driven it - it wasn't like something like that would ever happen again.

"We'll talk about it later," Dad said. "Maybe Pete could go sometime in August?"

"That sounds good," I said. "Thanks, Dad."

I picked up the phone and dialed Brendon's number. After a few minutes, he answered. "Hi, Pete," he said. "What's up?"

"Not much," I said.

"That must be nice," Brendon said. "We still haven't found somewhere for Ryan to stay. He's still in Matt's old room, not that I mind all that much. I like having him around."

"Was that what all of the voicemails were about?" I asked. "I never got around to listening to them. I was working for most of the day."

"Yes, that's exactly what they were about," Brendon said.

"I see," I said. "Brendon, I need to ask you something."

"What is it?" Brendon asked.

"My pen pal wants me to visit him in New Jersey, and my parents agreed to it," I explained. "Would you like to come along?"

"Yes!" Brendon exclaimed. "That sounds like so much fun. I'm totally coming!"

"Awesome," I said. "I'll talk to you later. I still need to call Gabe."

As soon as I hung up, Mom said, "Pete, it's getting late. You should get to bed." When I told her that I needed to call Gabe, she said, "He's not going to be up at this hour. You can call him tomorrow."

"Gabe's a total night owl," I said. "If anything, he's not going to be awake tomorrow morning."

"You still need your sleep, Pete," Mom insisted. I groaned and got ready for bed, but once the lights were out and I was reasonably certain that my parents thought that I was asleep, I put my headphones on and listened to music until I finally did fall asleep.

The next day, at around noon, I called Gabe. I knew that I was supposed to go to his house in a few hours, but I couldn't wait any longer to find out whether he would be able to come to New Jersey with Brendon and I. When I dialed his number, he picked up immediately. "Hey, Pete," Gabe said.

"Hey, Gabe," I said. "My pen pal wants me to visit him in New Jersey, and I was wondering if you wanted to come. I already asked Brendon, and he's coming."

"I'd love to, Pete, but I can't," Gabe said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"No fewer than eight of my visions happened in New Jersey," Gabe said. "If I want to have any hope of not dying in an explosion, I can't go anywhere near New Jersey."

I had nearly forgotten about the last vision. I couldn't have my best friend die on me - I didn't know what I would do without Gabe in my life. It was at that moment that I promised myself that I would do whatever it took to prevent Gabe's visions from happening. "I understand, Gabe," I said.

"A trip to New Jersey does sound fun," Gabe said. "I hope that you and Brendon have a good time."

"Thanks, Gabe," I said. I was looking forward to the road trip, but it wouldn't be the same without Gabe.

"You're welcome," Gabe replied. "I should probably eat lunch before you get here. I'll see in a little bit."

"Bye, Gabe," I said before I hung up.

Now that I knew that Gabe's visions were real, I had to make sure that none of the rest of them came true. I had to keep Gabe alive somehow. As his best friend, it was the least that I could do.