We're Going Down, Down in an Earlier Square?

.:You're P.O.V:.
In the morning, I got in the shower, and then dressed. I did my hair, and make up, while Mikey showered. I didn't have breakfast, and practically rushed Mikey out of the door. We got into my car, and drove off to the nearest Wal Mart that we saw.

"Okay, what do you need?" asked Mikey.

"Um....Pens, Pencils, Notebooks, colored pencils, sketchbooks, and music note books."

"Right." You both got pens, pencils, and notebooks, then headed off to the nearest arts supplies store. We stepped into the store, to find Gerard holding three sketch pads.

"Hey!" he greeted us as we approached him, "Shopping for supplies."

"Yeah." you answered, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear, "I guess you had the same idea as us."

"Yeah. Hey, did you know that we're leaving tomorrow?"

"WHAT!" I was totally taken aback. "I didn't know we were leaving tomorrow! I have to quit my job, put a hold on my mail, pay all of my bills"

"Stop!" Gerard held two fingers over your lips, "It shall be taken care of."

"Hey!" Mikey exclaimed, "Isn't Frank, Ray, Bob, and Matt coming?"

"Hey yeah! They are!" Gerard looked excited. "It'll be just like old times when we were all in high school....Except, this time it will be with Bob."

"Who are you guys talking about?" I asked. I was totally lost.

"Frank, Ray, Bob, and Matt are our old friends."

"Aren't they in your band?"

"Yeah."

"And Matt is the old drummer. Right?"

"Yup." Gerard handed you two sketch pads, and two cans of EXTREMELY expensive colored pencils. You headed to the front desk, and paid for everything.

Back at my house, I called my boss, and told him that I were quitting to go to school. He understood, and told me that if I wanted my job back when I got back, I could have it. I thanked him, and went straight to the bills. This task took me only a few minuets. Mikey waited by the edge of the door watching me.

"Is this what you're like when no one's looking?" he asked.

"Do you want me to be in bed with you all the time? This is my life sweety, you're just going to have to deal with it." I added the last part with a mock snotty tone.

"Well, that bed thing sounds nice." Mikey came forwards, and kissed me. Snaking his arm around my waist, he pulled me up, and lead me to his room again. Not once in this variation, did we break lip contact.

Pushing me up against the headboard of the bed, his straddled my waist, working on unbuttoning the buttons of my blouse.

"I love it when you wear white over black." he breathed into me. His hot breath hitting my lips.

"This is the first time you've seen me like this." I answered with a smile.

"Well, I've made up my mine that you should dress like this everyday."

"Hm....We'll see." he smiled against my lips, and pulled off my shirt. Just at that moment, the door bell rang.

"Shit." I whispered. I pulled on a hoodie jacket, and ran to see who was at the door.

"Hello?" I asked opening the door to a man in red.

"Yes, I'm the luggage carrier. I'm here to pick up the luggage of Mr. Mikey Way, and Miss. Samantha Young." Mikey came up behind me.

"Yes. It's right here." he opened the door wider, to reveal piles of suitcases. The young man came in and took all of them in one hand. He took them out to a bus, and loaded them onto the luggage rack. The tipped his hat, and drove off.

"I don't remember packing anything." you said.

"I think when he came, our luggage packed itself."

"That is a really creepy thought." I shuddered.

"Now, where were we." Mikey leaned in to kiss you again, but I stopped him.

"I'm sorry, but...I need to get everything organized."

"You can do that latter." Mikey pleaded.

"I know, but I would rather have them done now."

"Come on. Pweese?" he looked at me with big puppy dog eyes.

"I'm sorry." I made my way past him, and back into his room and started looking for my shirt.

"What's wrong?" he asked leaning against the frame of the door. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"What?" I looked at him in disbelief. "Mikey, why would you think that?"

"Well, you rejected me in the hallway."

"Mikey, I just want this place to be organized before I leave."

"That sounds like a lie."

"Excuse me?"

"This place is a;ready organized. If you organized it anymore, I think it might be to tight for everything."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"You don't really love me."

"Mikey," I ran to him, and embraced him, "I love you with all my heart, but I just"

"No," he pushed me away from him, "If you loved me, we'd be in that bed right now, making sweet passionate love to each other."

"Is that all you care about? Sex?"

"No!"

"Well, by the sound of it, you do." I turned away from him, and put on my shirt.

"Take that back."

"No!" I spun around, "I won't take it back, for I know that it's true!" Mikey looked at me, and the next thing I knew, my head whipped to one side, and a sharp sting ran across my right cheek.

"You were in that bed too. You wanted to have it just as much as I did."

"Don't you EVER hit me again!" I yelled.

"Or what?" I gasped. I backed away from Mikey. He just sounded like an abuser. "Well?" he demanded.

"I-I'll call t-the police." I stuttered. His face hardened. He turned from me, and the next thing I heard, the front door slammed, and the sound of a car leaving my drive way. I was alone in my house, left in the cruel silence that you experience after having a terrible fight with someone you love.

The next day, I woke up, and got dressed. Gerard had called last night, and said that he would pick me up. He knew about the fright, and promised that Mikey wouldn't be with us. I trusted him.

I waited by my front door, and when I saw his black car pull into the drive way, I opened the door, and embraced him in a tight hug.

"Hey, I'm so sorry about Mikey."

"It's okay."

"He's really kicking himself for hitting you. You do know he didn't mean it."

"You should have been there Gerard." I got into the passenger seat, and looked into the rear few mirror to find a young man with black hair hanging on one side of his face, dressed in black baggy pants, a black hoddies with what you guessed was a band name on it. He wore classic black converse that were falling apart, and a glove with it's fingers cut off.

"Samantha," Gerard said opening the door, "This is Frank Iero. Frank, this is Samantha Young."

"Hello." he said, I smiled and greeted him as well. I buckled, and were off to Harpsersville.

Standing in the middle of the campus, I looked at my map trying to find what house I belonged to. I would start in one direction, then stop. Gerard and Frank left me when they spotted their house. I was left alone.

Looking down at my map, I started walking, only to bump into someone, causing them to fall over.

"Oh my gosh!" I said, "I'm so sorry." I bent down to help him pick up his books.

"It's okay. It was just a mistake." he stood up, and I was able to get a better look at him. Like Frank, his black hair jutted out to one side. He was dressed in a pair of black pants with a light blue shirt. Most guys would have trouble pulling that off, but for him, it looked like a piece of cake. He wore blue converse, and had tattoos on his arms.

"Can I help you?" he asked excepting the books I handed him, "You look new."

"I am. I'm trying to find.... Well, the house doesn't really have a name, so I have no clue where I'm going."

"Oh! You live in the only house on campus that's nameless. Here, I'll show you where it is." following him, we passed several houses. We finally reached a house on the outskirts of the campus. He opened the door, and set his books on a table.

"Welcome to paradise." I eyed him at his cockiness, "Okay, okay. Home sweet home."

"You live here too?" I was shocked to have bumped into the most helpful person in the school.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, I just realized. My name is Samantha....Samantha Young." I held out my hand, and she shook it.

"My name is Pete Wentz."