FicWad

I strummed the last note on my guitar and got up from my stool. I took the microphone and smiled out at the energetic, albeit small, crowd. "I'm Alex Peara and thanks for listening. I'll be here tomorrow night too." I made my way to the edge of the stage and hopped off amid a mix of cheers and polite applause.

The owner of the small club I was playing at came over to shake my hand and give me a check. "Good job out there tonight. They seem to like you."

I smiled in appreciation. "Thanks. I try."

"Same time tomorrow."

"You got it."



Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Alex Peara. (Well you probably already figured that out.) Yes, my name is short for Alexandra but that's so... not me. I'm 21 years old and still not doing anything with my life. At least, that's what my mom likes to tell me on the odd occasion I pick up the phone when she calls. I was born and raised in Beverly Hills. I was just like those girls that you see on Laguna Beach until I was about 6 years old. That was when I decided I hated my lifestyle. At first, I couldn't really do anything about it. What do you do when you're 6 years old and your mom wants to put you in a dress and mini-heels and take you to the Country Club? You go. You don't really have a choice. When I was around 12 I finally learned how to say'no' to my mom. She didn't like it one bit when I started sneaking out at night. The thing is, I wasn't meeting guys. I was going to shows. Any kind of rock show I could find. I'd steal the entertainment section of the newspaper and pick out shows to go to. They were like Heaven for me. I became obsessed with music. When I finally started high school, any hope my mom had left for me vanished when I decided to take guitar lessons instead of cheerleading. "Who are you kidding?" I had told her. "Cheerleading? Me? You need to come back to this universe."

Every summer, my mom tried to make me change my mind for the next year, but I stuck to guitar and became pretty good. I even started writing my own songs. As soon as I turned 18, I was out of there. I didn't go to college, I went straight to Chicago. I loved the music that came out of there and decided that if I were going to get my start anywhere, it would be there. And this is where I've stayed, for 3 long years. I get pretty frequent gigs but the fact that it's been this long and my name still isn't really out there gets to me. I'm still trying, though, and I have the feeling that I'll be rewarded sooner or later. But back to the club.



I got my guitar case from behind the bar and stuck my guitar inside it. I lugged it off the counter and dragged myself to the door. I was dead tired. I managed to make it all the way home without falling asleep or running into anything so I counted that as a plus.

I let myself into my tiny apartment and experienced the familiar wave of discontent I always had when I realized that this was the place I called home. It wasn't much. Actually, it wasn't anything, but you'd think I'd at least be used to it by now. No such luck.

I got in the shower half-asleep and pretty much stayed that way as I changed into my pajamas and fell onto my bed. As I settled in, Icaught a glimpse of the Arma Angelus picture I had on the wall by my bed./ As always, Pete caught my eye. Call him my inspiration. He had done everything that I strive to do in the Chicago scene. He was a legend. I was pretty into his newer band that he had started a little while back as well. Fall Out Boy. Ihad gone to a couple of their shows, always wishing I could talk to Pete. Just to find out how he had become the guy everybody wanted to know. He was definitely the guy /I wanted to know. Okay. Day after tomorrow. I'm going to their show and I'm going to find Pete and talk to him. I mean it this time. I fell asleep with his face in my mind and a smile on my lips.





The next morning came way too soon for my liking. The all-too-familiar buzzing of my alarm clock went off at exactly 8:00am. That may be late for some people but I was usually out until the early hours of the morning so I let myself sleep longer than most people. My hand searched for the snooze button but I couldn't find it so I pulled the plug out of the socket instead. Ah, silence. I wrenched my eyes open anyway and half-climbed, half-fell out of bed. I hate morning.

I pulled on a Green Day shirt and jeans and started out my door. I liked to spend as much time away from my apartment as possible. Ibought a bagel from my favorite bakery and spent the next few hours in an upscale music shop trying out guitars that I didn't have the money to buy. Asalesperson came up to me just as I was finishing up a Metallica riff. (I was feeling pretty hardcore.) "Can I help you out with anything today ma'am?" She obviously thought I could afford something. /Ha/.

"I'm actually just looking."

"What are you playing right now?"

Okay. She obviously didn't understand the 'just looking'part. "Gibson." I answered her, trying to sound uninterested so she would go away.

"How's it working for you?"

I don't have time for this. "It's great. Look, I'm really not planning on buying anything today."

She seemed to get that she wasn't getting money out of me anytime soon so she left me alone. I finished up playing and left. I had been in there for hours and my fingers were a bit sore. I hadn't played for that long without stopping in a long time. I begrudgingly headed to the club that Fall Out Boy was playing at tomorrow night, rubbing my fingers as I went. Ibought my ticket in advance so I wouldn't have to wait around in the huge line before the show. That being done, I wandered around the streets for a while until it was time to go get ready for my show.



I changed into an Arma Angelus shirt (band shirts and hoodies are pretty much all I own.) and put on blush so I wouldn't look too pale in the lights. I arrived at the club an hour before I went on so I ambled around talking to people.

Finally, it was 7:00 and the manager got up on stage to announce me.

"Please welcome a young lady that I've had the pleasure of hearing every night for the past 2 weeks, Alex Peara!"

I walked on stage, getting that buzz that always comes along with the lights, the applause and that lone microphone in front of me. Okay, so I'm a little in love with performing. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. I sat down and started to play. All I can really do right now is acoustic. Idon't have a band, but I've been on the lookout for some people lately so that I can move on to a more rock sound. Like everything else in my life, it's awork in progress.



As I ended my set, I noticed I got a lot more cheers and less polite applause. I smiled to myself and took the microphone in my hand."Thanks so much. Once again, I'm Alex Peara. I hope you enjoyed it and now I'm off to go convince the manager to let me play here some more next week." There was some appreciative laughter from the crowd and I got off the stage feeling nervous. I had made that semi-lame attempt at humor to cover the fact that Ireally had no idea where I was going to be playing after this. As usual, the manager came over to shake my hand and give me a check. Why he didn't just pay me everything at the end of my stint, I don't know.

"Do you really want to play here some more?"

"Uh, I'd really appreciate it."

"Well, I'd love to have you but I'm all booked for the next few weeks."

Oh great. "It's fine Mr. Morrison. I'll find somewhere else to play. I always do."

"Alright. Thanks Alex."

I smiled at him and left. Now what am I going to do?

I decided to look for a new gig tomorrow before the Fall Out Boy concert.



The next morning, I immediately set out looking around for aclub to play in. All of my usual spots were booked, and all the new ones Itried were booked too. I should have brought my car. I thought grumpily to myself. I could go so much faster. I finally gave up and went back home to get ready for the concert.

Shortly thereafter, I arrived at the venue for Fall Out Boy, right on time to beat the big crowd.

The concert was amazing and as usual, my eyes were glued to Pete. Towards the end of the night, I started to get nervous about talking to him but I decided it had to be done.

I sat down at a table to get up my courage before heading over to the stage area where the band was talking to people. Deep breaths, Alex. He's human. He can help you. I had just decided to stand up when ashadow fell over my table. I glanced up and found myself looking up at none other than Peter Wentz. And what did I manage to say in the presence of my idol? "Ho-ly fuck. You're Pete Wentz."

He looked amused. "Yes. Yes I am."