Annie Darling.

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Annie sighed as she climbed aboard the plane, waving goodbye to Dom. They promised to keep in touch.

Sitting in her middle class seat, eating her disgusting mac n' cheese, she wondered what everyone was doing at the moment.

Lilly was probably doing something with Brendon. Annie laughed. Most likely painting each other's nails. It always confused Annie how Lilly and Brendon could absolutely hate what each other do, but do it anyways, and call it "love". Annie, obviously did not understand what goes on in tiny, tiny minds.

She knew what Sas was doing. Sas was probably putting a "coming-back" party for her. Annie didn't really want one.

Parties are for those who feel the need to prove something about themselves by getting as drunk and naked as is humanly possible in the span of a night; these are the girls with low self esteem, the groupies, and the wannabe cool kids. Then there's those whose entire lives revolve around a party, if only because parties are the only places where they have a life anymore; they've thrown it all away for the scene. And then there's the people like her, who just want to dance by themselves. Fuck, she really hated parties.

But if Sas was holding it, she could really care less. She'll hide in whatever the name of the bar was, storeroom.

- - -

"ANNIE! DARLING! PUT ON YOUR BEST JEANS! WE'RE GOING OUT!!" Her two friends yelled at her before she could even put her suitcase on the floor. Of course, Annie complied and went out with them.

Sas wanted to go to some Aussie made bar, and Lilly wanted to go to Kings and Angels. Annie did not want to go to either.

First, the Aussie bar smelled of Vegemite, and...ew.

Second, that douche bag Wentz was the owner at Kings And Angels, but of course, Lilly just opens her big fat mouth and goes, "Oh hey! A bunch of people are meeting us over there anyways, lets just go."

And of course, they went to Kings and Angels.

It was loud. It was gross. Just disgusting. Annie kept trying to creep away to the storeroom, but was constantly stopped by Jon and Spencer or Hayley Williams or whatever. She wanted out.

Annie finally made it to the storeroom and could not be any gladder. She crept in and turned off the lights, hoping to be alone for a few hours. She laughed at herself, knowing that there was a party out there for her and she was in a dirty, dusty storeroom, alone.

"I SUCK." She yelled out loud.

"Why?"

"Fuck, who was that??" She squinted in the dark, but her hazel eyes failed to make anything out in the darkness.

"Pete. You're Annie, I'm guessing?" Pete slid over and sat next to her. A little too close.

Honestly, Annie had never met Peter Wentz, but oh, she's heard stories. Bad ones, at that. She debated in her head if she should run out of the dank closet or stay with Pete.

Annie and Pete had a lot more in common then they thought. That night, they became friends.

"Hey Pete?" She looked across to face him. "When did you want to be in a band? Was it just a spur of the moment, or what?"

Pete was kinda surprised at her question. No one ever asked Pete Wentz when he decided to become famous, but nonetheless he answered.

"I obsessively wanted to be in bands. I was probably fourteen when I got my first bass it was my friend`s brother`s, and we stole it. I was really into the idea that we could just play basement shows. The name of the first band was First Born, and it was terrible. We played this hair-metal place in Iowa they gave you 150 tickets to sell, and you give them the money. We gave the tickets away, said we lost the money, and this old Italian guy almost beat the fuck out of us. But to me it was awesome."

There was a gleam in his eyes when he finished telling his story. It amazed her. When Pete wanted to do something, he did it.

"Annie? Where are you??" Muffled shouts from outside.

"I guess that's my exit call." Annie sighed. She learned a lot about Pete Wentz. She never thought he was that same boy that is just insecure about himself, so worried about what the world thought about him, his image was a fake. And in a matter of hours, he spilled it all to Annie, as if they were best friends. Why? Who knows. Maybe he just needed to talk.

He just needed a friend.