FicWad

"Rachel!" Pete stopped dead in his tracks. The look on his face was incredible. I wanted so badly to take a picture.

I raised my eyebrow at him. "What's the matter? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

He looked at Patrick, then back at myself. He put on a fake smile and opened his arms.

"Baby... I'm speechless... I'm so happy to see you, that you're okay."

"Don't touch me... baby. I just got out of the hospital two weeks ago and imagine my surprise when I'm driving home and I hear my words coming through the speakers. Do you happen to have an idea on what I'm talking about?"

I crossed my arms and tried to keep from crying. Successful Pete Wentz, using my words to get him fame and money. Money that I could have used.

I leaned against the wall and looked at the boy in the hat, Patrick, who looked shocked and confused. I smiled. "Sorry singer ... I'm not usually like this. He just has a way of bringing it out in me."

Pete now looked scared... he looked threatened. "Rach, can we talk about this in private?"

"We can talk wherever you'd like honey bunch, but know that I did my research. I taught you how to play bass, I fucking kept my lyrics at your house and you stole them while I was in a coma?! I fucking made you the person you are and you can't deny that. Mr. America's Hottest Boy in America's Hottest Band." I kept my eyes locked on his, making him feel even more uncomfortable. Afraid to be outted as a fraud.

"Rachel, in private... please."

I uncrossed my arms. "Sure sugar." I turned the Patrick. "Patrick it was nice to have met you... we make a great team, you and I."

Pete grabbed my arm before I could say anything else and dragged me to the dressing room where two boys where sitting. I recognized them as well.

Pete shouted. "Joe... Andy... Out!"

The one with the curls made a face. "Jeez but make it quick and don't spluge on my stuff."

Pete sat down and I sat across from him... he had managed to calm himself. "Rachel - I don't know what to say."

I calmed myself as well. "What did you think Pete? Did you think being in a coma meant being dead? Did you think I would never wake up? Did you think I would never find out?!"

Pete started to get choked up. "I didn't think us fucking around and jammin out would be taken seriously. After the accident I was sick to my stomach that I lost you because when we broke up I was still in love with you. I had no one to play bass with, sing songs with... you were the first person to introduce me to music. Actual real music... and then you were gone. I thought if I used your lyrics for three or so songs then I could be able to convince people I was talented and play music.Things got out of control and they kept wanting me to write, but all I had was your notebook. That massive fucking notebook filled with your lyrics. I am so sorry."

"Pete you know that I'm a humble person, but right now I can't be. I need money. I'm in debt because of hospital bills, I have no job, no apartment... I need the money for MY lyrics."

Pete nodded. "I'll give you anything. Money. A house. A job. Anything you want."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh right... cause you're Mr. Fucking Connections now aren't you? Don't feed me all this I was in love with you bullshit either... you fucking cheated on me three times AND basically stole my identity. You're even wearing fucking makeup the way I did when we were together. You may look different, but you're still an asshole."

"Rachel, I'll give you whatever you want."

I sat back. "I want money... and I want a job. I want to be in charge of the band, the clothing line... which was ALSO my idea and my designs, the label... I want to have a say in all of it."

Pete sat back. "Rachel I can't just fire people."

"Pete you don't have to fire anyone... I know for a damn fact that you're in charge of the clothing line and label... so I'll have the final say after you. As far as the band goes... don't fire your manager. Just let me get paid for coming along with you and having every lyric, every bass line, everything you have a fucking say in be my idea."

He smiled. "This isn't a game. You have to work... you have to do an actual job."

I flashed him a smile "Pete ... all this IS mine. The clothing line, the song lyrics... everything was my idea. Why would you think I would lack a passion for wanting it to actually turn out great?"

Pete shook his head. "Okay -- partners." He shot his arm out in front of me and I smiled and shook it.

"Partners."