It's pitch dark and cold in Pete's apartment. He used the last of the money he had saved to put gas in his car and to put food in his refrigerator. But everything in his apartment ran on electricity --aside from the plumbing-- and without the funds to pay for it, he no longer had functioning lights, heat, or appliances. So the food he bought to fill his growling stomach will have gone bad by morning. It was a waste of money to buy perishables, the only edible thing left would be the snack cakes and poptarts. He can't live off of that forever though.

Pete was flat broke.

And if that isn't bad enough, his rent is also over a month late. He begged his landlord to give him a little more time, just until he got a job and he promised to give the sweet old lady his entire first paycheck. But as kind as she was, she could only extend his time by three days.

How the hell was he going to land a job and pay his rent in three days? The only way that'd be possible is if he stood on a corner and offered sexual favors in exchange for cash. He didn't want it to come to that, but the longer he sat in the darkness of his room, bundled up in his thickest blanket, the more likely it seemed. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

If he could, he'd ask his folks for a little assistance, but they kicked him out years ago and he hasn't spoken to them since. They hated him, practically spat the words into his face when he was seventeen years old. So asking them for help wasn't even an option, not that he could ask anyway, he didn't know where they were or how to contact them.

His phone sat on his nightstand, dead and without service, he couldn't call his friends and they couldn't call him to check to see if he was okay. It made him feel so alone, just like when his family had disowned him, but at least then he had Joe to turn to for comfort. He didn't have Joe this time, or anyone else for that matter, he was completely alone and miserable.

He couldn't sleep.

It was sometime past two a.m. as far as Pete knew, his alarm clock no longer worked so it could be five in the morning and he wouldn't be able to tell. He sniffled in the everlasting silence, seeming so out of place and much too loud. But he didn't care, he was the only one in the apartment anyway. Tears began to sting at his eyes and his bottom lip began to quiver as the weight of everything finally crushed him. He couldn't provide for himself anymore and he had no way to confide in his friends. And to make it worse, he'd be homeless if he didn't come up with the rent money in three days.

Everything had just plummeted so fast down the steepest hill possible, and as he kept thinking about how difficult everything had suddenly became, tears slipped down his cheeks and weak sobs escaped his throat. He had finally broken down, curling up in a ball and wrapping himself tighter in his blanket, burying his face in his cold pillow.

He's going to lose everything if he doesn't get some sort of income as soon as humanely possible. He wished everyone was there with him right now, or at least one person, preferably Patrick or Joe. Patrick gave great hugs and sweet kisses and Joe made Pete smile whenever he was in a shitty mood. Tyler, Hayley, and Brendon were amazing too, they all made him feel better in one way or another but Pete was a mess when he was all by himself.

He felt so helpless.

***

Pete was awoken by the loud harsh banging at his front door, he didn't even realize he had fallen asleep last night. His eyes and cheeks were a little crusty from the dried tears and attempted to get rid of it, then jumped up as another barrage of heavy fists knocked on his door. There was definitely more than one hand knocking at once. Then he heard a shout of, "We know you're home, Pete, open up!"

It sounded like Brendon.

Pete rolled out of bed and tried to rub the blurriness out of his eyes as he made his way out and toward the front door. He knows that he wanted his friends here for comfort last night but right now he didn't want to speak to anyone. He wasn't in the mood and he didn't want everyone to see how bad everything got, he'd only draw pity from them and then they'd feel obligated to help him. He didn't want that. He didn't need their help unless it involved a shoulder to cry on, he could take care of himself and he'll fix everything on his own.

The loud knocking continued until Pete finally unlocked the door and yanked it open, glaring at every person that stood on the other side. He mentally takes back every thought about wanting everyone here, now he just wanted to curl up and die in a hole somewhere. He also wanted to slam the door right in their worried faces, he may feel like shit but he wouldn't actually act upon that.

"The fuck you want?" He slurred groggily, tightening his grip on the doorknob. But instead of a spoken response he was attacked with hugs and stumbled back a bit from the impact. He doesn't immediately hug back, mostly because they're all restricting his arm movement, but the look on his face is one of slight confusion. "Um-"

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?!" Brendon shouts once everyone disperses from the hug. "We thought you were dead or something, you little cunt!"

"Fuck, Bren, chill-"

"Don't you 'Bren' me, Peter. You haven't picked up or responded to our texts in days. What the fuck is wrong with you? Making us worry like concerned fucking parents. I oughtta kick your rainbow colored ass!"

"Okay, Brendon," Hayley spoke up before Brendon could actually try to kick Pete's ass, he needed to cool down for a second. "Let's go outside before you hurt someone." She grabbed him by the bicep and dragged him down the hall toward the exit of the building. He continued to mutter under his breath as he willingly went with Hayley.

"Alright, dude," Joe motioned for everyone to come inside the apartment and shut the door. He turned to Pete who had a look of shock on his face from Brendon's outburst. "You've been off the radar for a few days, what's going on?"

Pete sighed and swiped a hand down his face, glancing between everyone before looking back to Joe. "I'm broke. My phone's off, electricity's off, rent's late." He shrugs. "I've got three days to pay the rent somehow or I'm gonna be evicted."

"What? Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't wanna burden you guys."

"You're our best friend," Tyler said, speaking for everyone. "You could never be a burden to us."

Just then the door opens, revealing Hayley who was holding onto the knob and motioning for Brendon to step inside. He had his arms crossed and glared daggers at the blue haired girl as he walked past her, then leaned against the wall and pouted like a scolded child.

They thought Hayley was going to enter the apartment as well but she was looking down the hallway and motioning for someone else to hurry up. She backs up a little and the person's head peeks around the corner of the door.

It was Patrick.

He stepped fully into Pete's living room and Hayley followed, shutting the door behind her. He had a look of concern on his face, gaze glued to Pete and noticing his blotchy cheeks and sunken eyes. He didn't look like his usual bright and vibrant self, it appears as if all the color was drained from him. It worried Patrick.

"So you are alive." Patrick mused.

Pete nodded, smiling sadly. "For now, yeah." At the moment Pete seemed to be holding everything together behind his imaginary walls, but as he saw Patrick's expression quickly turn to sadness from his words he began to break again. A choked off sob escaped him, failing in his attempt to keep it buried deep down in his chest. He threw his hand out, gesturing toward Patrick as if to say 'what is this guy doing?'. "Don't... don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Patrick took a few small steps toward the other man, never breaking his gaze as Pete wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.

"Like that!" He gestures again. "Like you fucking pity me. Everybody else already looked at me like that today, I don't need it from you too."

"We don't pity you, we wanna help you. We care about you."

"Bullshit!" Pete cried, more tears pouring down his cheeks. "Nobody cares about a goddamn boy in a dress, I'm nobody important. Why are all of you even fucking here?! I'm doing just fine, I don't need you assholes to help me. I'm fine! I'm doing just fine... I-I'm fine. Don't need you, 'm fine..." His tears of anger had turned to ones of pure sadness and his depression was catching up to him.

He buried his face in his hands and sobbed, feeling a pair of arms gently wrap around him. He recognized the feeling, the overwhelming comfort and warmth that it provided, it was unmistakably Patrick. He buried his tear soaked face in Patrick's shirt, probably soaking that as well but neither of them cared. Patrick ran his fingers through Pete's hair and whispered in his ear, telling him that everything was going to be just fine and that he and the others were there for him.

Slowly, everyone else joined into the hug, also whispering comforting words to their friend. They all knew that Pete didn't mean anything he said, simply repeated some of the words his parents had screamed at him when he was younger. In some ways he believed them, believed no one cared about him, but his friends were determined to prove him wrong.

And prove him wrong they did.