Four Years

Rachel's POV

"What are you doing here?" Brendon spat viciously at Alex, standing in front of me to protect me. Aw, how sweet was he? Sometimes I wondered why Brendon and I never worked out. Then I remembered why - we fought like hell and got on each others nerves constantly. It's a shame, really. He was a great guy. Just had too many annoying traits that he couldn't hide around me.

"I...I came to say I'm sorry. I tried talking to Pete...but he just ignored me," He sighed. I could still see over Brendon's shoulder. Alex was staring at the ground, kicking at it with his dirty Nikes. He looked up and locked eyes with me, "I'm really fucking sorry."

He was really lucky that that's all Pete did to him. He could be here with the rest of his band, packing up their shit and heading straight back to Baltimore. Forget the hotel they were staying at. They'd have to find a way to get back to Baltimore tonight.

Or, worse, he could be in the back of an ambulance, something broken. He was one lucky fucking bastard.

It took all Brendon and I had not to make that last thought a reality. All I wanted to do was see him being loaded into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher. God, that'd make me so happy.

"No, you've messed up my life. You know, my fucking band could be cut from the label for this shit, Alex? All this negative fucking press and Pete - my fucking boss - could completely drop Panic! from the label!" Brendon yelled, venom dripping from his harsh words.

"And...Jesus fucking Christ, you fucking destroyed Rachel's life! The one person she's ever loved just dropped her on her fucking ass tonight over something you said! God, dude, how fucked in the head are you? Get the fuck outta here before I fucking snap and kill you!" He finished, grabbing his bags, and my hand, and walked to the van.

"Rachel, I - "

"Just, go..." I sighed, looking over my shoulder at him as Brendon and I walked away. So much self restraint. I felt sorta proud of myself for not lunging towards him and beating the fucking shit out of him like I so badly wanted to do. He's lucky I didn't chew him out like Brendon did. God, I would've been so much harsher. He'd wish that he was in the back of an ambulance on his way to the hospital, complaining that something in him hurt so badly.

Brendon opened the back doors and threw his bags in as I placed mine in gently. I turned back around, ready to go get my bags, and saw Alex shaking his head as he walked away. He looked like he was talking to himself. He probably was. He was most likely beating himself up mentally over this. Good, he deserved his self-inflicted torture. It was better than me doing it.

"Cigarette?" Brendon said, offering me one. I took it and placed it between my lips as he lit it for me. I took a long drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs. This felt good. He lit one up for himself, inhaling, then exhaling slowly. I watched the smoke curl up from the cigarette in his fingers. "Let's go get the rest of your stuff."

I nodded and slowly walked back to the bus. I climbed on, not giving a fuck that I still had my cigarette in my hand. I didn't care if the bus was gonna smell like smoke. Pete would just have to fucking deal with it.

I stuck the cigarette between my lips as I got two bags, one in each hand, while Brendon got my last one. I stopped at the doorway and looked around.

"Anything else?" Brendon muttered, blowing the smoke out of the bus.

I smirked and blew smoke into the bus, "Nope."

We loaded up the roadies van with the rest of my things, finished smoking, then climbed in. I sat in the front this time.

"Hey, can we stop at this little liquor store? I need some Jameson, JD, Captain Morgan...and...about four packs of cigarettes," I muttered, staring out the window, watching as the city flew by. This was the first, no wait, second time that something bad happened in Chicago. The first time was when I found out Pete cheated on me. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Brendon just nodded and pulled into the parking lot of the next liquor store we found. We both got out and walked into the small store in silence.

The store was empty. But, it was two thirty in the morning, so, of course it was gonna be empty.

I went and bought the cigarettes, and a lighter for myself, while Brendon went around and got the alcohol. Eight packs of cigarettes. Four for me, four for Bren.

Brendon came up behind me, struggling to juggle six bottles of whiskey and rum in his hands. Two of each of what I said. Damn, Brendon was a great friend. Most people would tell people it was gonna be okay and that drinking would not make anything better.

But, I guess, when both of those friends are depressed and angry and just...fucking hate the world so much right now, drinking was the best thing to ever happen.

I took the two bottles of Jameson and set them on the counter for him. He nodded a thanks as I grabbed rest of the bottles out of his arms and placed them on the counter.

"Got a party planned?" The cashier asked as she rang up and bagged the bottles.

Brendon and I looked at each other. Party? Fuck, no. Brendon turned back to her, handing her the money, "If only."

He grabbed the bags then left the store with me right on his tail. I got in, sighing loudly, "I fucking hate everything."

"I know. Let's just go to the hotel and - "

"Get fucking wasted. I need to be fucking wasted," I muttered, slamming my head against the headrest. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to convince myself that everything was gonna be okay, and that when I opened my eyes, this nightmare would be over, and I'd be sleeping safe and sound in Pete's arms on the bus.

I opened my eyes, disappointed with what I saw. An open road in front of me, and a depressed Brendon on my left. This wasn't what I wanted.

***

I drank my Jameson straight from the bottle. I was on the hotel bed, watching as Brendon sat in the chair by the window, my laptop on his lap. He was looking for the next flight out of here.

"Hey," He said, looking up at me, a small, halfhearted smile on his lips. "The next flight to LAX is at ten thirty. You okay with that?"

"Perfectly perfect," I muttered, taking another drink straight from the bottle. "Hey, Brendon, I'm bored."

"I know. I'm bored, too," He sighed, grabbing his glass of JD of Coke off the table. I watched him as he drank a bit, then set the glass down on the table. He then resumed whatever the fuck he was doing on my laptop.

"The city looks nice," I commented, staring at the skyline that was outside the hotel window. My eyes floated down to my now unbandaged finger, Pete's initials staring back at me, mocking me. I wanted to scrape my skin right off my finger. I wanted it gone.

"What are you doing?" Brendon asked, staring at me as I started to reach for my finger. He set the laptop down on the table and walked over to me. "Don't touch your finger. It'll get infected or something."

"You have pretty eyes," I smiled, looking up into his brown eyes. "Let's fuck."

"Rachel, what the fuck? You've had enough," He said, reaching for the bottle. I held it above my head, out of his reach. I held him back with my other hand, my palm planted firmly against his chest. "Come on! Stop it! Give me the fucking bottle!"

"No!" I screamed, continuing to hold him back the best I could.

"Rachel, stop!" He yelled, standing up on the bed. He grabbed the bottle out of my hands as I screamed loudly. He jumped down and walked back over to his chair. He set the bottle down on the floor next to the chair. "Go to sleep."

"No," I snapped harshly, folding my arms across my chest. "Come here."

"Why?" He sighed, walking back over to the bed. He stared at me, waiting for me to say something.

"You're so adorable. Let's just fuck, please?" I begged, crawling over to him. I stood on my knees, placing my hands on his shoulders. I started to lean in to kiss him when he pushed me off of him.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, his brown eyes wide.

"Trying to kiss you," I said as I crawled back over to him.

"Stop it, Rae. You're drunk," He said, walking back over to his fucking chair. God, that chair was getting more Brendon than I was. I was jealous of that chair. That motherfucking chair.

"I'm not drunk!" I protested, climbing off the bed. I struggled to stay balanced. Okay, so, maybe I was a little tipsy... "Come on, Bren, I want something to keep my mind off of Pete."

"And I'm not gonna do that for you," He said, still staring at my laptop screen. "I'm not like that, okay?"

"I fucking hate you," I muttered, walking over to him to get my Jameson back. My eyes flicked across the screen. And there it was. My picture - my picture that I used on Twitter - along with a picture of Pete, with black lettering that read, "Pete Wentz is HARSH!" Perez Hilton already got a hold of the story.

"What the fuck are you doing on that?" I asked, staring at the screen, a little venom oozing out of the words. I couldn't rip my eyes away from it. It happened only two hours ago and there it was...on Perez fucking Hilton. Fuck that little fucking fa -

Brendon sighed and glanced over his shoulder at me, "Someone sent me the link."

"Well, what does it say?" I asked, grabbing the bottle of Jameson off the floor. I clutched it tightly to my chest. I was going to need this while he read it off. I couldn't even begin to think how bad it would be if I was sober. I needed something to help soften the blow.

"Fall Out Boy rocker, Pete Wentz, and girlfriend, Rachel Woods, are notorious for their breakups and makeups. Since the couple begin dating in 2005, the couple have broken up about five times. Five! Five too many, right?

Well, tonight was their messiest breakup! Pete dragged his girlfriend out of his club, Angels & Kings, and threw her on the ground, shouting and calling her awful, awful names.

You can see for yourself how harsh he is in the video below -

Now, apparently Rachel had been caught cheating! With one of Pete's close friends, too! Brendon Urie of Panic! At The Disco was reportedly caught sneaking around with Pete's 21 year old girlfriend.

A member of a band that is currently on tour with Fall Out Boy snapped a picture of the two looking cozy and cuddly backstage and showed the entire world, posting it on his Twitter before showing it to Pete.

Sad, sad times. Hopefully Pete finds someone better for him. He deserves it!"

"We're a couple again," I mumbled, drinking more Jameson. "Funny, funny, funny!"

He shook his head and rubbed his face roughly. He shut my laptop and downed the rest of his JD and coke. "I'm going to bed," He said softly, walking to the bed, taking his shirt off as he went. He threw it to the corner where my clothes were before stripping off his pants. He crawled into the bed and curled up under the blankets.

He wasn't asleep. I knew he wasn't. How could anyone sleep when their life was falling apart? His name was now associated with mine. I was the cheater. Brendon was the boy I cheated with. I was the one who broke Pete's heart. Fans didn't like me to begin with, but they put up with me. But now? Now they probably hated me. Loathed me.

"Brendon, get up," I sighed, taking a seat in the chair. I stared at the bed, waiting for him to get up. He didn't. "Brendon. Brendon...Brendon!"

"What?!" He screamed, sitting up. He was mad. I could see it. Even in the dark corner of the hotel room where he was, I could see how mad he was.

"I'll fix this," I assured him, offering a small smile. I hoped he believed me and that smile. Fuck, I didn't even believe it.

***

Jack's POV

"Dude, she told everyone her and Urie weren't doing anything..." Matt breathed out, sitting on the couch in our hotel room. "Everyone believed her. She is a fantastic liar."

Why the fuck was everyone referring to Brendon by his last name? It was disgusting. He had a fucking name that belonged to him, not just his family name. It offended me for some fucking reason.

I don't know. Maybe it sounded like they were dragging his family into this too. Like his parents raised a fuck up of a kid that liked to go around and make girls cheat. In my mind, it made sense in some twisted fucking way.

"She wasn't lying," I muttered, scrolling through the tweets in my timeline. Her tweets in the last two hours sounded so desperate. Alex fucked her life up so bad. "Alex was just jealous, dude."

"Says you," Vinny commented, flipping through the channels on the fucking TV. "She's a sneaky little...She snuck around with you, right? Yeah, wouldn't put it past her. Rian, hand me that bot - "

"Alright, get the fuck out!" I shouted, pointing to the door. I wasn't gonna sit here and let them just badmouth Rae like they were. It was disgusting. How the fuck could they even say things like that? I knew Rachel. Yes, she did cheat on Alex with me when we were in high school, but that's because I sorta made her? I made her want to want me.

Rachel gave in to people too easily. She was never the one doing to the seducing and sweet talking. It was always the guys.

Who could blame them? Rae was gorgeous. The only flaw she had was the fact that she couldn't say no.

And Brendon...Brendon didn't strike me as someone who would sweet talk and get her to cheat on Pete with him. Maybe I did believe that he was gay, I don't know, but he just didn't strike me as that kind of guy who tried sleeping with his best friends girl.

I was that kind of guy. I hated myself for doing that to Alex.

He was sweet and genuine, unlike Alex and myself. Sad, but true.

"Dude, calm the fuck down. Rachel cheated on Pete with Brendon. Alex has proof. Get over it."

"I will not fucking get over it because it's a fucking lie! Look, Alex is my best friend, and I'd take a fucking ugly groupie off his hands, but I know he posted that picture of them hugging because he was jealous!" I yelled, staring in disbelief at the room full of some of my best friends. I couldn't believe they were turning their backs on Rachel like that.

Actually, Rian and Zack weren't saying anything. They were quietly tucked away, watching the crew - who didn't know Rae like we did - talk shit about her. It was only the crew doing this...The ones who never got to know her like we did. It made sense that they believed Alex over some random girl.

But still, they should've believed me. I was Alex's best friend, and the one person other than Pete who knew Rachel better than myself. God, I knew Rachel and Alex better than I knew myself.

"Alex? Jealous? He's with Lisa," Matt said, furrowing his eyebrows together, clearly confused.

"Doesn't fucking matter, dude. Have you seen how many girls he gets with a week? He doesn't give a shit about Lisa," I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest. It was true. He told me once that Lisa was just there for when he got lonely at home. He was drunk at the time, but still. He's a truthful motherfucker when he's drunk. "He wanted Rachel ever since he was ten, Matt. How fucking stupid are you?"

"What...no...Alex wouldn't do that, bro," Danny said, shaking his head in disbelief. Our frontman, my best friend, was no fucking saint. He was the most flawed of us all. He had mental breakdowns all the fucking time and I had to help him. I was the only one who could.

I guess they never saw how fucked up he was. They never took the chance to look even deeper like I had.

Speaking of the fucking devil, Alex walked through the door, a frown on his face. His sad eyes met mine first, wanting me to explain the deafening silence.

"What's up, guys?" He asked when I didn't respond. His voice was sad and tired. He was just with Rachel. He followed her back to the bus and said sorry. She shot him down. He was upset. With himself, mainly. I could read him too easily.

"Did you post that picture and say they were cheating because you were jealous?" Matt asked softly, staring at Alex, waiting for the answer that I had already told them. No one fucking believes me. Ever. I can be serious once in awhile! It's not that rare!

His eyes shot open. He was caught and he knew it. He fucking knew it.

He looked at me, that dumb panicked look on his face. He wanted me to back him up. He wanted me to help him lie. I wasn't gonna fucking let him get away with it this time.

"There's no denying it, Lex," I said from my spot on the bed, watching his every move closely. "I know you did it because you hated seeing Rae with anyone that wasn't you."

"Come on, Alex, why the fuck would you do that?" Rian voiced from his little corner. He was silent the whole time when Alex wasn't here. He was taking it all in. "Dude, I can not believe you!"

Alex looked down at the floor, his actions speaking for him. He did do it out of jealously. I was right. They were wrong. I should've made this into a bet. At least I would've been about a hundred dollars richer.

"You're a fucking idiot," Zack commented, shaking his head at Alex.

"Yeah, you really are. You know, we could've been kicked off this fucking tour? God, why don't you think before you do things?!" Matt yelled. And there it was, the managerial side of him shining through. He cared about us, he really did. But he also cared about our jobs and how we were doing and if we were ever gonna make it in this world as a band. He wanted us to succeed.

"I'm sorry, okay!" Alex snapped, finally sick of all the insults they've been hurling at him.

"Sorry is not gonna fucking cut it!" Matt snapped back at him.

I shot up off the bed, instantly going over to hold Alex back from going over and beating Matt senseless. "Let's go drink, just you and me?"

He nodded sadly and turned around, leaving the room before me. I turned to the sickeningly silent room and mouthed, 'You owe me.'

As we walked down the hall, Alex was silent. He was with me. He had no reason to be silent. He could tell me anything, any secret. I wouldn't repeat it. I'd carry it to my fucking grave with me.

"Hey, listen, Alex, we'll fix this. It's gonna be okay," I whispered, trying anything to get him to show any type of emotion. Any at fucking all.

All I got was a weak, halfhearted smile. And I returned it.

I didn't think he believed me. I didn't even believe me.