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“This is a terrible idea,” Patrick says as a delighted fan takes her signed CD from him and runs off to show it to her friends.
You ignore Patrick, choosing instead to flash the girl in front of you your most winning smile.
She turns bright red and holds a slightly crumpled t-shirt out to you with her shaky hands. It’s obviously been sitting in the bottom of a backpack all day but you take it anyway. “Hi,” she barely manages to get out.
“Hi there,” you say, spreading the t-shirt flat out across the shitty folding table and uncapping your Sharpie. “What’s your name?”
The girl’s eyes widen and she takes a few quick breaths before saying, “Grace.” Then she blurts out, “I love your music!”
You pause in the middle of writing something cute and charming on Grace’s shirt so you won’t fuck up the letters when look up at her and say, “Aw, thanks. That means so much to hear.”
She nods and covers her face with her hands.
“One of the worst ideas you’ve ever had,” Patrick says out of the corner of his mouth. “I’m serious, Pete, don’t do this.”
Still ignoring him, you finish your little message and signature with a purposeful stroke before sliding the shirt towards Patrick without looking at him. He takes the shirt without comment but you can feel the annoyed glare he shoots you.
Normally, you’d say something bitchy or lightly kick him in response but you have bigger concerns right now. You glance to your left for the millionth time since you and the rest of Fall Out Boy have been signing autographs. From your spot at the signing table and the angle you’re sitting at, you can just see behind the curtain of the Bishop stage out of the corner of your eye. My Chemical Romance has a set in less than ten minutes and Mikey still has yet to show herself. Gerard, the short one whose name you don’t remember or maybe never learned and the drummer have been backstage chain smoking for the last half hour and their guitarist is saying something you can’t hear to a sound tech but Mikey is nowhere to be seen.
Frowning, you hold one hand up to block the glare of the sun and scan the surrounding area for her. With her impressive height, Mikey should be easy to see in the sea of emo teenagers occasionally punctuated with band guys and other adults but don’t see her anywhere. Usually the reason that Mikey cuts it so close is because the two of you are alone together talking about nothing and everything, sharing a cigarette or often just making out. But you’re here, not kissing Mikey’s neck while she tries to get her hand up your binder, so what the hell is taking Mikey so long?
“Where is she?” you complain quietly, setting your elbows down on the table and resting your head on your hands. “She should be backstage by now but she’s not.”
Nobody asks who you’re talking about. Mikey is pretty much the only woman you’ve talked about all summer.
“Good, then you won’t do anything stupid,” Patrick hisses under his breath, passing the t-shirt to Andy. Then he smiles at the girl and, in his normal voice, says, “Thanks so much for coming out.”
“It’s not stupid,” you huff, the heels of your hands pressing into your cheeks.
“Uh, yes, it is!” Patrick says insistently, energized by finally getting a response. “It’s one of the stupidest ideas you’ve ever had.”
“Thank you!” the girl says once Andy and Joe finish signing her shirt, taking the shirt and hugging it to her chest.
As soon as the girl turns her back, you scowl and let your hands slip out from under your head and drop onto the table. Personally, you think it’s one of the best ideas you’ve had in a seriously long time, maybe the best idea you’ve ever had. Mikey is the coolest person you’ve ever met and you don’t need any more time to know that she’s the only one for you. You’re happy for the first time in too long, you’re seriously in love and you’re ready to make a serious commitment to the girl of your dreams.
“I love her,” you say simply, looking around again. The people lining up to get Fall Out Boy merch signed have mostly dispersed by now but you still can’t see Mikey anywhere.
“We know,” Joe says, sounding a little tired. You choose to believe it’s because of the heat and sun, not because everyone’s sick of hearing you talk about Mikey. Everyone knows you love Mikey, including her. You’ve told her sixteen times, even though she’s never said it back.
“Pete, you’ve been dating Mikey for two months,” Patrick says, leaning into the table to try and catch your eye. “You can’t know her well enough to love her.”
“When did you get so traditional?” you shoot back, ignoring Patrick’s attempt to make eye contact with you in favour of carefully looking at every person over six feet tall. “Free love or whatever, Patrick.”
“That’s not what that means,” Andy says, interested in the mostly one sided conversation between you and Patrick for the first time.
At that moment, just out of the corner of your eye, you spot a seriously tall woman doing the awkward fast walk/shuffle/run she always does when she’s wearing heels and in a hurry. You whip around and see the back of Mikey as she waves in the direction of her brother.
“Mikey!” you exclaim, pushing yourself out of your chair and ignoring how incredibly female your raised voice sounds.
“Don’t-”
“Mikey!” you call after her, the gravel on the asphalt crunching underneath your shoes as you hurry towards her. “Hey, Mikey!”
She turns around when you’re about twenty feet away and her lips twitch up into her usual half smile. “Pete, hey,” Mikey says once you’re close enough.
You stop a few feet away from her, pausing to pull your hoodie and shirt away from your chest a few times because your binder is starting to get seriously sweaty. The Sharpie you had been signing with is still clutched in your other hand. “I thought you’d be out sooner,” you say, smoothing the front of your hoodie and looking up at Mikey.
“Ugh, yeah,” Mikey huffs, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. “The heat kind of melted my makeup and my, uh-” she gestures to the front of her miniskirt “-tape, you know, so I had to redo everything.”
“You look great,” you say earnestly and she does.
Mikey’s done something with her eyeshadow that makes it sparkly but not really in a smooth gradient that starts at her eyeliner and goes from black to silver. Her foundation and whatever other makeup girls wear on their cheeks, face and neck fully hides any stubble she has, making Mikey look seriously feminine and soft. She looks perfect without makeup, without any of her padding or tucking or anything else, but Mikey always seems to become herself when she’s fully done up.
“I mean, you always look great, but wow,” you say, looking her up and down and feeling your heart swell in your chest. She’s wearing her tallest heeled boots, her skinniest skinny jeans underneath a denim miniskirt and one of your t-shirts- truly a woman after your heart.
Mikey takes one of your hands and squeezes it. “You’re sweet,” she says, rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. “I should go but I’ll see you later, okay?” She releases your hand and starts to pull away from you.
“Wait!” You catch Mikey’s hand in yours. “Can I talk to you really quick?”
“Pete…” she says, glancing backstage out of the corner of her eye. A sound tech is holding Mikey’s bass in one hand and gesturing towards her with the other, looking somewhat annoyed.
“Really quick, five minutes tops,” you insist, clinging to her hand. Then, because you’re kind of desperate, add a soft, “Please? This is really important.”
Mikey sighs but holds up a finger in the direction of the backstage area to indicate she’ll be one minute.
“Yes, okay, I love you!” you say brightly. Seventeen times.
Still holding her hand, you lead Mikey to a section of parking lot behind some vehicle so you’ll be hidden from the crowd. At this point, your breath has started getting a little shaky and you can feel how sweaty your hand is in Mikey’s. The way the sun is shining on her hair really brings out the blonde in it and something about that makes your heart swell.
“What’s up?” Mikey says, squinting slightly as she looks over your face.
“I’ve really enjoyed the summer with you, Mikey,” you say because it’s easier to start with the simple, reasonable stuff and lead into the crazy shit. “Like you’re amazing, you’ve been incredible to hang out with-” You look Mikey up and down again and smile at her. “You’re seriously hot.”
Mikey smiles and looks down at her boots. “Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.”
“So…” you take a deep breath. “What if summer didn’t have to end?”
“What?” Mikey asks, looking back up at you and frowning. “What does that mean?”
“What if we didn’t go our separate ways once tour ends? What if instead of going back to Chicago and New Jersey we just… stayed together?”
Mikey’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “You want to… move in together?”
You chew on your bottom lip and shift your weight nervously from foot to foot. “You know I love you, yeah?” Eighteen times.
Her shocked gaze softens. “Of course, Pete, I care about you too.”
“And I don’t want to lose you when you’re off in New Jersey,” you continue, rubbing your thumb over the tendons in the back of Mikey’s hand.
“Believe me,” Mikey says, using her free hand to fix her bangs, “the guys back home are so beneath anything you have to offer.” Smiling, she squeezes your hand and knocks the toe of her boot against your shoe. “They don’t get me like you do.”
You know the main reason you two connected so strongly and so quickly was because you’re both freaks in the same way, both born into bodies that couldn’t be more wrong for you. But you also know that you fell in love with Mikey because she’s beautiful, charming, funny, sweet and amazing in so many other ways that you can’t put into words. Normally you can bullshit a metaphor for and about anything but you know bullshit won’t do Mikey justice.
“Mikey!” Gerard calls from backstage, butting out his cigarette so he can wave her over.
“Gimme a minute!” Mikey yells over her shoulder, staying firmly in place. She sighs and turns back to you. “What’s the really important thing?”
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” You shove the Sharpie into the front pocket of your jeans and take Mikey’s left hand in both of yours. “I love you,” you say firmly. Nineteen times.
Mikey nods, encouraging you to go on.
“And I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” you continue after taking a deep breath. “Mikey Jade Way…”
Her eyes widen.
You drop to one knee and look up with Mikey. “...Will you marry me?”
She stares down at you unblinkingly for several long seconds, eyebrows raised all the way up her forehead.
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” you say, clutching Mikey’s hand to stop your own from shaking. “Maybe ever. I’m serious, you’re the only girl for me.”
“Pete…” Mikey begins weakly. “Is this… is this even legal?”
“Men and women get married all the time,” you say. “It doesn’t matter who’s who legally as long as it’s one man and one woman.” You swallow hard. “I checked last night.”
Her eyebrows slowly return back to her usual place. “You checked?”
“I have done so, so much research,” you explain. “I found out all the restrictions by state and I found out which ones will let you get a license and get married the same day. Virginia is one of those states; It’s the last one before the end of Warped.” You also found out that married couples are also more likely to get approved for HRT but that’s only good news for you; Mikey’s been on estrogen for nearly a decade.
You scan Mikey’s face for any sign of positive emotion. “Also, you’d be allowed to wear a dress in every state,” you add hopefully.
The corner of Mikey’s lips twitch up. “Good, ‘cause I look really good in dresses.”
“You look incredible in dresses,” you agree, “and I look absolutely terrible in them- that’s why we’re so perfect together.”
Mikey’s smile widens, enough that it makes the edges of her eyes crinkle. “We are kind of perfect together, aren’t we?”
“Fuck yeah we are, Mikey Way,” you say with your most winning smile. “So… will you marry me?”
Sighing, Mikey pushes her hair out of her eyes. “We’re both insane for this but… yes.”
You perk up. “Yes?”
“Yes, Pete, yes, I’ll marry you,” Mikey says, nodding.
“Oh my God- I didn’t- really?” you ask, laughing incredulously.
“For the love of God- yes!” she says with a look of mock annoyance. “Now get up so I can kiss you.”
With zero grace at all you scramble to your feet, sending gravel everywhere before Mikey bends down and kisses you while resting her hands on your shoulders. You bring one hand up to her cheek while resting the other on the curve of her hip as you kiss her back. After kissing for way less than you’d like to, you both pull away.
“I love you,” Mikey says softly, rubbing her thumb over the edge of your collarbone. Once! For the first time ever! “I meant to say that before, but you know-” She shrugs. “I didn’t think we’d end up here.”
“I love you too,” you say, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Mikey’s ear. Does that count as twenty times? “So fucking much, Mikey Way.”
Humming happily, she leans into your touch before lifting her left hand off your shoulder and turning it around. “You didn’t get me a ring.”
“Shit!” you say, looking from Mikey’s face to her hands. “I didn’t know your ring size.”
“Honestly, I don’t either,” Mikey admits with a smile. “We can figure it out later.”
Still, you pat down your pockets like there’s actually an engagement ring in there. You don’t find a ring but you do find the Sharpie you stowed there earlier. After pulling the marker out, you uncap it and hold out your left hand to Mikey. “May I?”
She puts her hand in yours and you carefully draw a black circle around her ring finger. Then, because you’re the worst, you write “I LOVE YOU! XX” down Mikey’s arm and add your signature underneath it. Soft twenty one times. Give the blogs something to talk about.
Mikey’s lips form around the words as she silently reads them out before she shakes her head in mock exasperation. “I love you too, Pete.” Then she smirks at her Sharpie ring. “What is this, Swarovski?”
“Mikey!” Gerard calls again in a seriously annoyed tone that’s probably meant for you.
She rolls her eyes but she yells “I’m coming!” in her brother’s direction before turning back to you. “Okay but now I actually need to go,” Mikey says apologetically, taking a step backwards towards the stage, “but I’ll see you very very soon, alright?”
“Alright,” you relent, pressing a kiss to her hand before releasing it. “Knock ‘em dead, Mikey Way.”
Mikey leans in and presses a quick peck to your cheek before pulling away. “I will!” she calls back at you before running across the parking lot. Even with the liberal amount of hairspray she uses, Mikey’s hair still blows out behind her, shining golden brown in the sun.
After tucking the Sharpie back into your pocket, you follow Mikey towards the stage with a lightness in your heart that you’ve never felt before. You might have a wedding to plan, but there’s enough time for you to watch your new fiancee’s set first. You’ll always have time for Mikey.