The sound of the door creaking open was heard, followed by a bright camera light being shone in their direction. Two figures stood at the doorway, both covered by the darkness. The lights were flicked on and the duo on the bed hissed at the sudden change of lighting. The bright camera light has turned off.

The two boys on the bed found themselves gazing at an ever-so-shocked Mikey Way, and a snickering Pete Wentz. The situation was, truly, very awkward for both parties. With a half-naked Frank Iero and already nude Gerard Way, it was definitely scarring—especially since the younger Way didn't know about the affairs. When you walk in on your best friend having sex with your brother, you kinda get speechless.

"So," Pete was the first to break the silence, "Frank's the big guy, huh?"

Gerard scrambled to cover himself with the blankets, while Frank just glared at the two standing at the doorway. "Care to explain why you're both here?"

"First of all," Pete spoke for Mikey, who was too withdrawn to even say anything, "Mikeyway lives here."

"He doesn't live in this room," Frank argued.

"Second of all," Pete interrupted, "when you hear a bed creaking and odd moaning when you get home, you might want to investigate."

"It was more of Pete wanting to investigate," Mikey muttered, shaking his head.

"So, my brother's dating the short emo soccer star, Pete Wentz?" Gerard snickered, sitting up next to Frank, making an attempt to grab his boxers that were messily thrown onto the floor.

"You shouldn't be speaking, you're nude," Pete rolled his eyes. "I got this all on camera, would be a shame if—"

"Your nudes were leaked out too, so I don't get why you're still talking," Gerard sneered.

Pete cringed as he heard Brendon's voice in the back of his head. "It's not a bad dick."

"I think we should get going now," Mikey mumbled, tugging at Pete's arm.

"You should, I'm in the middle of fucking your brother after all," Frank chuckled. This caused Gerard to slap him on the back of his neck.

"Pete Wentz, hurt my brother and I'll rip off your balls," was the last thing Mikey heard as he left the scene.

***

"Gerard Way and Frank Iero are dating?" Brendon asked in disbelief. Pete nodded, snickering as he showed the footage from last night.

"Dallon owes me twenty one dollars now!" Brendon cheered.

Patrick shook his head, "So, are you blackmailing your boyfriend's brother and his best friend?"

Pete was surprised to see his close friend, Patrick Stump, sitting by his side at the cafeteria table. He wore his usual black fedora, and his glasses were perched at the bridge of his nose. Pete didn't even know how Patrick managed to sneak in and wear his fedora—hats weren't allowed at school. "I mean, not really. I'm just spreading the news, y'know?"

"Mikey's gonna be pissed," Pete rolled his eyes. "And so is Gerard. Frank is gonna have no hesitation to beat you up and—"

"Patrick, you're starting to sound like my mother."

"I'm just warning you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Hey, have you seen Mikey anywhere?"

"I saw him at the music room, probably practicing bass," Brendon interrupted the conversation. "He's probably with Frank and Ray as well, Gerard's absent today."

"Oh, thanks," Pete smiled as he left the cafeteria. He gazed back for a moment and saw Ryan yelling at Brendon, then pouring some milk onto him—probably the expired school milk. Patrick had already left the scene, and Dallon, as well as Spencer, were just entering.

Yeah, that was none of his business at this point.

***

"What I'm saying is you should totally hijack the principal's office and play our song on the intercom," Pete heard Frank's voice as he stepped into the music room.

"I'm not doing that, your stupid ideas usually get me in detention," Mikey huffed.

"Look, the band was Gerard's idea—and it wasn't a bad idea," Frank retorted.

"Yeah, say that twelve years from now when we break up because Gerard is scared of teenagers."

"Oh, hey Pete," Ray spoke up. Pete always wanted to touch Ray's hair, it always bounced. He had touched Joe's hair before, but it basically wasn't the same as Ray's.

"Oh look, it's the emo asshole," Frank threw a milk carton towards Pete. He managed to dodge it. The milk hit the wall, broke, and seemed to had explode. Sheesh, Frank was powerful sometimes. He cringed at the thought of the milk carton hitting him in the crotch; the place where Frank seemed to have aimed.

"You're starting to act like Bert McCracken," Ray said, breaking the silence.

"If you all don't mind, I'll be stealing mikeyway," Pete smirked as he pulled the lanky boy off the floor. Before he could retort, he was dragged, by Pete, out of the room and now was stumbling down the hall. Pete was a fast runner, he did play soccer after all.

"What the hell?" Mikey panted, leaning against some freshman's locker. He was clearly out of breath.

"Mikey—does your brother hate me?"

"No, what makes you say that?" Mikey rolled his eyes, sarcasm clearly evident in his voice.

"Mikey, I'm serious. If I get you in trouble with your brother then—"

"It's okay, Pete," Mikey released an exasperated sigh. Pete had always loved Mikey's voice, especially when he sighed, it sounded so calming. The shorter one had no hesitation to plant his lips onto the other for a brief moment.

"Good," Pete smiled, "now let's go."

"Where?" Mikey chirped, ears and nose a velvet color.

"We're ditching school, obviously."

***

Gerard found himself angrily sipping on orange juice in the middle of some guy's basement on a Tuesday evening. How he got here was a whole story on its own—Frank dragging his sorry ass to some guy's house while he was asleep—but it was better than doing nothing. He had the flu, so infecting other people was as fair as it could get.

"What's this guy's name, Brendon Urine?" Gerard peeped, facing Frank.

"Yeah, I think it's Urie," he corrected, snapping his fingers.

"Why are we here again?" Gerard groaned, rolling his eyes.

"To sacrifice virgins—why else would we be here?" Gerard rolled his eyes at the sudden snarl.

The guy, Brendon apparently, came down with a large orange juice carton. Yeah, this guy had some weird "unlimited" supply of orange juice to give to his guests. It was pretty weird, Gerard had to admit, but pretty much nothing was "normal" in Belleville, New Jersey.

"I'd just like to clarify that I'm here because Josh decided to drag me here," a voice peeped. Gerard saw an awkward freshman sitting on the floor next to a pink-haired guy—another freshman he'd assume. It felt weird, as if the two were fetuses. His own brother was a junior, which was weird enough.

"Who's he?" A guy with a fedora asked, being blunt as possible.

"I'm Josh Dun, this is my close friend Tyler Joseph," the pink-haired freshman made the introduction.

"More like gay," Ryan chuckled.

"Weren't you two just fighting during lunch today?" Tyler asked, quite intrigued.

"I just felt like pouring milk on him, that's all," Ryan shrugged.

"Anyway," Josh rolled his eyes, "why are we all here, Brendon?"

"Well," Brendon set the juice carton in the middle of the circle, "we came here to, well, hangout?" It sounded more of a question than an actual answer.

"I was thinking we could all preform n'shit. We all have bands after all," Brendon followed up. "My band is Panic! At The Disco, pretty sick name right?"

"Our," Ryan and Dallon said in unison. Spencer remained quiet, and Jon had just rushed down the stairs, panting.

"Our," he said.

"Aren't you sick?" Frank asked.

"I still made it," Jon shrugged as he went to sit with the group.

"Uh—I guess we're Fall Out Boy," Patrick had shrugged. He was inconveniently alone. "I don't know where Joe and Andy are, and I'm pretty sure Pete's with Mikey—" Frank had seemed to glare. "—I mean I don't know where Pete is!"

"We're Twenty One Pilots," Josh and Tyler said in unison.

"Only two of you?" Brendon questioned.

"It's a good name for a band," Tyler rolled his eyes. "And no, we're not going to get nineteen other band members."

"And—" Gerard took a pause, gazing cluelessly at Frank mouthing 'What's our band name?'

"—we're My Chemical Romance. The name's bound to change, though, cause Mikey's pretty shitty at making up names," Frank said, barely managing to make a straight face.

Gerard remembered his brother suggesting the name after being awestruck by a book by Irvine Welsh that he had saw at Barnes & Noble. What was it—Three Tales of Chemical Romance? Yeah, that sounded just about right.

"Hey, that reminds me, where is Mikey?" Gerard questioned.

***

"Here we are!" Pete exclaimed, tearing down the blindfold from Mikey's eyes and giving him back his glasses. It took Mikey a while to recoil as he rubbed his eyes and cleaned his spectacles, which had Pete's fingerprints all over them.

"You could have just made me walk around without my glasses, I'm blind without them anyway," Mikey relapsed, putting on his glasses. He was awestruck at the sight before him. A pond that was quietly brushing against the shore, and fireflies roaming around freely. A strip of silver moonlight complimented the whole outlook.

"So, how's this for a date mikeyway?" Pete smiled. "We were suppose to head to Brendon's but your brother was going to be there and being at Brendon's wasn't going to be as fun as being here."

"Sweet," was all that could come out of Mikey's mouth.

"You know, I'm going to be graduating soon," Pete began, "and so is your brother, as well as some of your other friends—"

"I'll be okay, Frank's not graduating anytime soon is he?" Mikey chuckled. There it was, the laugh that Pete lived for.

"I'm going to go to college though, Mikes," Pete frowned, "and I'm going to get a shitty job."

"Your point being?"

"We're going to be away from each other for a long time, a span of about five years because when I graduate college you'll still be in it."

Mikey frowned, "What makes you so sure that I'm going to go to college?"

"Trust me, you're going to go. If not, your brother is going to have your head," Pete snickered. The two went to go sit down by the pond. Pete tossed his socks and his shoes aside, then put his fit into the pond water. It sent goosebumps trailing up and down his body, but had felt nice. Mikey had done the same.

"I mean, we have this band and I want to play in it, y'know?" Mikey muttered, gazing at his hands. "I like playing the bass."

"I wish you were my bass," Pete winked.

"Very funny, Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third," Mikey rolled his eyes.

"I get your point, playing in a rock band would be pretty sweet," Pete smiled as he nodded his head. "Hey, let's make a promise right now Mikes."

"Huh?" Mikey perked up.

"If you get famous, don't forget me, yeah?"

"Oh, I can't fucking forget you—you're my boyfriend!" Mikey sneered. Pete's expression was bitter.

"Yeah," he murmured.

***

Graduation couldn't be so bitter. Brendon was a sobbing mess as he clung onto Ryan, and Mikey couldn't help but tear up a bit when he saw Gerard and Pete receive their diplomas. Four bitter years of complaining about teachers and endless bullying lead to this moment—high school graduation. Yeah, they'd be untouchable as adults.

"Mikey!" He was drawn out of his thoughts as he was faced with Gerard. He stood in front of him, adorned in a blue graduation gown and a blue cap. A giddy grin was stretched across his face. Mikey knew about Gerard's plans to going to an art school in New York, it did hurt him a little but he didn't want his brother to be upset. He could only imagine what Frank could he going through right now.

"Hey Gee," Mikey smiled.

"Can you fucking believe it? I graduated! I barely even got credits for gym class but I fucking did it!" Gerard sounded so excited, his eyes were twinkling and sparking with joy. Mikey bit his lip.

"Yeah, congrats Gee," he wearily smiled.

"Hey, don't worry," Gerard frowned, patting the younger Way's shoulder, "once life settles down n' shit, we'll become a band like you wanted. Just gotta graduate if it backfires, that's all. We'll be like the Misfits—from Jersey and rolling."

"Art school is going to be great for you, I'm proud of you," Mikey smiled. "How's Frank taking it?"

"I had to convince him not to drop out and run away from his parents," Gerard snickered.

"Have you seen Pete anywhere?" Mikey went straight foreword with the conversation.

"Way to be blunt," Gerard snickered once more, rolling his eyes as he brushed his black, oily fringe away from his face.

"Shut up—did you see him?" Mikey urged.

"I saw him just leaving—got his diploma then wham out the door without second thought."

***

My Chemical Romance turned to be a big hit. It was 2005—four years since the band had begun. The group of five had been invited to join a whole summer of touring with other bands (that they didn't particularly know too well). Of course, they did jump at the chance; it sounded like decent fun. Consisting of cruel adventures on a moving tour bus and showering outside in the cool chill of the night—who wouldn't enjoy performing?

"So—" Frank was lounging on the couch, slouching, "—who's the lineup again?"

"Were you not paying attention the whole time? We're well into a week of warped tour." Gerard rolled his eyes as he tossed the smaller man a piece of paper listing all the bands, along with dates and locations.

"Oh, sweet," Frank's eyes roamed up and down the paper. "Man, most of these bands I've never heard of!"

Gerard plopped down next to Frank on the couch, "Hey Mikes, can you make us some coffee?"

Mikey sat on the floor, twiddling with his copy of the paper. His glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, "Why do I have to make coffee for you? There's a coffee machine and a microwave, and perfectly fine coffee beans waiting for you over there."

"It's too far. Hey, I have an idea. Can you go to Starbucks and buy us some coffee?" Gerard suggested.

"No, I don't even know my way around town," Mikey grunted.

"Please Mikey," Gerard begged, "my sweet little brother—"

He faked some gagging noises and stood up, "Fine, whatever, fuck you. If I get lost—"

"Chill, we have technology for a reason," Gerard smirked as he lifted up his newest Nokia.

Mikey stomped off the bus.

***

It took him a while, but he managed to find himself in some sort of city area and out of the suburban places. His legs were sore from running away from those who pointed at him and were asking, "Is that Mikey Way?" It was pretty stupid, and he hated Gerard with all of his heart (or what was left of it.) He was pretty sure that there wasn't Starbucks anywhere in the god damned city he was standing in—he'd been walking in circles for quite the while and all he's been seeing were McDonalds and Wendy's. He might as well give up and go buy coffee from McDonalds and put it in a separate cup; Gerard wouldn't notice probably.

He decided to catch his breath at the side of a building, Macy's apparently. He leaned against the brick wall, adjusting his glasses and checking his Nokia. He dialed Gerard's number, hoping that he wasn't having sex with Frank again, and waited for him to pick up. Of course, knowing his luck, he didn't. There was no point in calling Frank either—he was probably blowing Gerard or something. He groaned in frustration and decided to call Ray.

"Hey Mikey!" Ray's voice greeted on the other line. "I heard you were getting us coffee!"

God, he sounded so cheerful. "I'm lost, could you like, I don't know, come find me?"

"Frank and Gerard went into town because of an interview, so if you're lucky you might bump into them."

"Well, thanks," Mikey was quick to hang up the phone. Ray—such a ray of sunshine and great help. He shoved the phone into his pocket and grunted angrily.

A couple minutes of wandering and asking locals where the nearest Starbucks would be, he ended up at a Barnes & Nobles store. Surely they had a Starbucks in there, and maybe some books that was spark his interest. He opened the door quickly and dashed inside. Yeah, there was no cafe in Barnes & Nobles like there was back home, but at least there was something to do. He took the escalator to the upper level and headed towards the realistic fiction shelves.

"Mikey?" A voice asked behind him. He stiffened, praying to God that it wasn't a fan. Knowing his luck, it probably was. He turned around and flinched, but was surprised to see a short, emo guy standing in front of him. He raised an eyebrow in interest.

"It's me—Pete. From high school," he smiled. "I'm on warped tour with you—I saw your performance and it was amazing."

Mikey stood there, speechless. Out of all fucking days, why'd he have to see Pete fucking Wentz?

"Yeah," Mikey nodded, awkwardly not knowing what to do.

He noticed a couple changes in Pete. He wasn't as muscular as he was in high school, but he still had that stupid black fringe over his eyes. He also noticed the eyeliner he was wearing; he remembered a Kerrang! article covering on his "guyliner." Part of him was truly pissed for seeing him after he had left things in high school; he didn't even bother to say goodbye.

"You wanna go get a coffee or something?" Pete offered.

"Fuck off," Mikey cursed, kicking the ground mindlessly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing—" Mikey was on the verge of ranting, "—it's just the plain ol' usual. Brother and his god damned boyfriend begging me for coffee, I get lost, and now I see my fucking ex at a Barnes & Nobles shop who didn't even say a word to me during high school graduation and just leaving without a single trace? Fuckin' amazing."

Pete didn't exactly like hurt, it was more of a look of guilt and regret. Mikey was visibly shaking, clenching his fist. "Just don't talk to me, alright? Not in the mood."

With that, he dashed out of the Barnes & Nobles store. Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.

***

"You saw Pete?" Gerard was sitting at the edge of the brown sofa, holding a bagel in his hand.

"Yeah, all because of yOUR FUCKING ANTICS ABOUT WANTING COFFEE WHEN WE HAVE PERFECTLY GOOD FUCKING BEANS RIGHT FUCKING THERE YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT."

"Woah, I haven't heard Mikey curse in years," Ray peeped into the conversation.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry. I was just really craving Starbucks, alright?" Gerard coaxed, his voice calm. "I think you should make up with Pete."

"Over my dead body," Mikey rolled his eyes.

"For such a quiet dude he can be really problematic," Frank whispered.

"I have ears, y'know."

***
I lost inspiration right about here, may or may not continue it idk I felt like writing some band shit