because I felt like it okay

***

He spat on the ground, then progressively strolled away from the area. It was a Saturday morning, if you consider 1:26am to be still be a part of the morning. The stars were still twinkling above, the air's scent was tainted with damp grass, and only the sounds of crunching leaves and crickets were eminent.

Pete's phone rang interrupted his "morning" stroll.

"Where are you?" Patrick's screaming voice was on the other line. "I wake up and you're missing!"

"What are you doing awake?" Pete retorted, releasing an exasperated sigh as he headed back towards the direction of the tour bus.

"I got hungry. Anyway, just get your ass back here before Joe and Andy wake up," Patrick replied as he hung up. Pete rolled his eyes; same old Patrick it had seemed.

Warped Tour was a scene; just last year they were an opening act and now they're preforming on front stage. Of course, staying in a tour bus for the whole summer, and rarely getting hotel stays, would be a bust as well. Yeah, it was kinda hell, but it was worth it.

From Under The Cork Tree was doing better than they had anticipated as well—with Sugar, We're Goin' Down being on the radio every once and a while (Pete would usually scream, followed by some type of variation of: "I fucking wrote that—that's my song!").

Pete shoved his hands into his pockets and managed to find the parking lot. There were two buses, and feeling dangerous he decided to walk in which ever one that was closest. Hopefully he would walk into the proper bus, Fall Out Boy's, and won't get a scolding from some random dude who was on tour with them. He climbed up and inside the bus.

"Shit," Pete cursed as he made eye contact with Gerard and Frank, "wrong bus."

"Hey Pete," Gerard slurred as he managed to waddle his way over towards him, "hows it been—!"

His breath reeked of alcohol. He recalled a time where Mikey had mentioned something about his brother's alcohol addiction—guess he wasn't lying. It looked like Frank was completely sober, for as he managed to stroll towards the two without tripping on anything. Pete was about Frank's height.

"Sorry, Gerard's drunk," Frank rolled his eyes and gave a small snicker.

"At fucking one in the morning?" Pete replied, snickering as well.

"True," Frank nodded his head as he drew his attention towards the lead singer, "c'mon Gee, let's go to sleep."

"But I don't want to—!" Gerard complained, almost as if he was a child. Pete resisted the urge to burst out into laughter right there.

"Anyway," Frank spoke loudly enough for Pete to hear (Gerard was whining pretty loudly), "why did you drop by?"

"I walked into the wrong bus," Pete shrugged. "Our bus is like, right there."

He proceeded to point out the window, "Patrick's gonna beat me once I get back."

"What's with all the noise?" A certain lanky bassist had walked out from the back, rubbing his eyes then proceeding to rub his temples. "Could you guys stop making so much noise?"

"Mikey," Gerard slurred, walking towards the younger Way, "—tell Frank that it's not time to sleep yet!"

Gerard toppled onto Mikey, giving him a hug and pushing him against the wall. He struggled out of his older brother's grasp with a look of disgust on his face. "Gerard, get off, you're drunk again!"

"Mikey—!"

"Gerard."

Frank pulled Gerard away from Mikey, then sat him down on the couch. Mikey rubbed his arm, crumbling under his breath. Pete strolled towards him, feeling sympathetic, "Wanna go hang out in my bus? It's a bit more quieter."

"Sure," Mikey released an exasperated sigh as he went to go rub his temples again, "I can't even sleep without being woken up by Gerard's or Frank's screaming."

In the corner of his eye, Pete could see Frank chugging a beer bottle. Yeah, definite drinking problems. He led Mikey out of the bus and into his own bus, hoping that Patrick wouldn't mind the extra company.

"There you—" Patrick paused mid-sentence, "—why is Mikey here?"

"The Chem bus is filled with drunk people," Pete explained. "I offered for him to hang here I guess."

"Oh, okay," Patrick shrugged. "Uh, there's cornflakes on the shelf, I'm just gonna go back to sleep."

With that, Patrick had walked away, leaving Pete and Mikey alone. Pete sat down on the couch while Mikey dropped next to him.

"Gerard's gonna have a huge hangover tomorrow and probably gonna throw up, again," Mikey groaned as he buried his head into his hands, "fucking hate his addiction to beer."

"I mean—" Pete's voice trailed off; he honestly didn't know what to say, "—maybe he'll realize it one day."

Mikey nodded, "Yeah, maybe one day."