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The Sweetest Things Burn Before They Shine
Band(s): The Academy Is..., Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance and Panic at the Disco (appearances by various members of The Cab, Empires, The Hush Sound, The Plain White Ts, Travis McCoy and Maja Ivarsson.) So basically more people than anyone should deal with.
Pairing(s): Gabe/William, Pete/Patrick, Ryan/Spencer, Brendon/Jon, Frank/Gerard, Butcher/Siska, Bob/Joe (implied Victoria/Ryland, Alex/Nate, Travie/Maja)
Word Count: 50,475
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Summary: When Pete Wentz decides to write a soap opera, he doesn't do it small; he does it HUGE and gets everyone involved. But is the real soap opera the one playing out for the television audience with Spanish villas and pirates and evil, sinister betrothals or the one behind the scenes that involves pill poppers, awesome partiers, live chickens, romantic gay love, wacky Three's Company Too mix ups and betrayal of the worst and most heinous kind? Well, that's kind of up to the crazy mix of actors, musicians, various crew and production members to decide for themselves. Even if they are the ones in the thick of it.
Author's Note: Oh my god, this ate my brain. I'm so pleased to be posting it and like, never looking at it again. Or something. I don't even know. It was supposed to be a simple idea that I started on back on New Year's and just transformed into this monster. Anyway, I hope you all have as much fun reading it as I had writing it, most days anyway.
Pete Wentz is a man who does things.
Like always. He’s always doing something. He can’t not be. He’s restless. It’s in his nature or something. But anyway, he always has to be doing something.
So this whole sitting around, doing nothing because of one little, minor, nervous breakdown over a tiny line of dialogue is completely retarded. It’s like it reinvented the word retarded and made it more heinous than it was before. That’s how retarded the situation is.
Stanley Willis is a huge douchenozzle too. Because damnit that had been Pete’s show. Pete’s show. He made that show what it is and now the writing sucks so bad, the network is actually thinking about canceling it and Pete would feel a thrill over that fact except that it’s his show and those are his characters and now they’re never going to come back.
Mostly it all just sucks.
He’d like to blame it on Patrick, he really would, because when Patrick was running things, Pete was totally in charge and he had his own staff and people and the show was still his own. But Patrick had to go and stand on his principles and piss off Papa Willis and then get fired from his job.
And Pete had been thrown to the wolves without an accomplice.
He should’ve known this was going to happen. Right when Stanley started firing Pete’s staff left and right until they were all replaced with mindless drones who couldn’t think for themselves and did his bidding. But the real decline came when Baby Willis had decided to kill of Gabe’s character right in the middle of some very important character building episodes.
When Pete had tried to stop him, Stanley claimed that Pete was playing favorites and no one wanted to see some secondary character find himself and figure out his love for the geeky technology expert, only for their love to become dashed by him turning into a vampire.
“It’s been done,” Stanley had said.
Pete had fought and fought, but Willis and Sons were the executive producers and they had the final say in everything because when Pete had first started, all he had was a few ideas and some friends in high places, but no chance of starting his own production company to fuel his dreams. He’d needed assistance.
Now he’s really wishing he’d just gone broke and put up his house.
So instead of turning into a vampire, Gabe’s character, Dusty, had been killed savagely in front of the eyes of his friends. There was an episode of grief and then it was like Dusty had never been there, even though he’d been with the show for the past four years.
After that, Pete couldn’t take the edits and censorship and he may have thrown a chair through Stanley’s expensive glass walls. He kind of doesn’t remember, his brain hazy from a mix of late nights and coffee and stimulants.
And now he’s sitting in his lonely apartment with a People magazine in his lap, the big cover proclaiming that A Little Less Sixteen Candles is getting staked. Pete really hates it when magazines try and get witty and cutsy. That’s all something that has really been done before.
At least they dedicated a whole three pages to the story. There’s a whole bunch on how the writing was clever and witty and related to people on so many different levels. The earlier seasons are compared to Buffy the Vampire Slayer but a lot edgier and without the high school melodrama as the background for the metaphor, but still crisp and intriguing.
‘Like a brilliant mix of Britain’s smash hit Torchwood and every awesome teen drama ever, Wentz’s Sixteen Candles was headed for great success until…’
Pete knows what comes after that. His sudden departure and how he turned up at Cedar-Sinai’s psych ward for a nervous breakdown. The papers had totally blown that out of proportion and Pete’s publicist had pretty much wanted to kill him, but anything had been better than being attached to a show that he wasn’t really his anymore.
He throws the magazine down and turns on the television.
It’s nothing but overly acted talk shows and stupid soap operas at this hour and Pete thinks the writing on soap operas is even worse than the acting, which is fucking saying something.
Pete thinks, I could do better.
And then he thinks, huh, I could do better.
~*~
Patrick Stump is not in the habit of telling Pete Wentz no.
It’s something he’s trying to work on, but, so far, it hasn’t been going that well.
Pete Wentz has been talking him into things since he was first introduced to Pete and Pete had gone on and on about how great his first script was and how he couldn’t wait for actors to fill the roles and then make it come to life.
The thing is, Pete’s script had been good and the show had been good and Patrick had been caught up in it and Pete ever since.
But then Willis had decided to be a big douche.
It hadn’t been so bad. Patrick had been looking for an excuse to start his own production company anyway. So far they don’t have much of anything going on, but it’s all about marketing and working it and making contacts, which is what Patrick is doing.
He’s doing it right when Pete Wentz walks through the door, frantic and kind of pale looking, with a million sheets of paper in his hands.
“What’s this?” Patrick asks.
“It’s my idea for a soap opera,” Pete says, making himself comfortable in Patrick’s chairs.
“What?”
“Soap opera, man. It’s like… the best idea I’ve ever had.”
“A soap opera?”
“Yeah, a soap opera. Because all the ones they play are super shitty.”
“That’s because they’re soap operas, Pete.”
“I know, but they don’t have to be shitty, Trick.”
“Pete, with the constraints on the budgets that they have and…”
“Patrick, look, they don’t have to be shitty. If they’re done right, anyway. Just because they have to air like everyday, does not excuse the shitty writing. Or the shitty acting. There are tons of actors out there that are just waiting for jobs.”
“Pete, do you know how ridiculously hard it is to become a start up soap opera? Those things have been around for decades. They never add new ones. And they’re run by major networks.”
“You’ve got friends, Patty.”
“No, I don’t have those kinds of friends.”
“So we go with a cable network. Someone willing to take a chance. I’m sure there’s a network out there.”
Patrick sighs.
“Look, I know that with Sixteen Candles ending…”
“Fuck, Patrick, it’s not about that. There should be more to watch in the middle of the day than bad plotlines and Jerry Springer. There should be something with actual quality.”
Patrick bites his bottom lip, eyes going beady and he doesn’t quite know what to say.
“Pete.”
“Come on, Patrick, you know it’s a brilliant idea. Probably the best I’ve ever come up with.”
“We could totally work it, maybe. I just… soap opera? Like running five days a week during a daytime slot? Come on, Pete, that would be nearly impossible for anyone to pull off and you’re trying to get me…”
“You’re brilliant. People listen to you. You’d wow the shit out of everyone.”
Patrick maybe blushes a little. He’s known Pete for close to six years now and Pete’s been complimenting him ever since, but it’s still a thing. A thing that Patrick is totally not used to.
“Look, I wanna help…”
“So do it.”
“But,” Patrick says loudly, trying to ignore Pete interrupting him again.
“My production company just does not have enough clout for that kind of thing, Pete. We’re dealing with small things right now and I’m trying to dip my hand in music…”
“Because you’re fucking awesome.”
Patrick rolls his eyes.
“I’m trying to tell you that my little production company that could, can’t.”
Because Patrick knows the ins and outs and he knows how much money they’re bringing in and it’s a start up business in a really shitty time. He knows what he’s capable of and he knows how far to stretch his resources. He’s a good business man.
It doesn’t stop him from almost agreeing to this crazy plan just because Pete’s pouting at him.
Pete’s brows furrow and he opens his mouth a few times, lips quirking and Patrick can tell he’s trying to think of just the right thing to say, how to phrase it. Pete’s better with the written word then with speech, even if most people think it’s the opposite.
“Then you have to help me find someone who can.”
“Pete.”
“You’ve got connections and I’m not good at talking people into shit.”
Yeah, right, Patrick thinks.
“You’ve got a script?”
Pete smiles that wide smile that Patrick knows means Pete thinks he’s won already.
“Yup. And it’s great.”
“I have to read it first.”
“Of course.”
“And it might take me awhile to draw up a presentation.”
“You’ll draw up something epic, Pattycakes, I just know it.”
“And getting meetings with production companies and then networks is going to a bitch, so I can’t promise that anything will come of it.”
“You’ll charm the pants off of them. They’ll be helpless to do anything but agree to what you ask them to do.”
“Your overconfidence is irritating,” Patrick says.
Pete just smiles even wider.
Patrick thinks he’s really, really got break himself of this habit of saying yes to Pete Wentz. He’s going to look into classes or something, so he can preserve his sanity.
Right after he reads Pete’s script, comes up with a presentation and tries to get meetings with production companies.
It’s a good plan.
~*~
Pete Wentz doesn't mean to be such a douche bag. It was just sort of in his nature, you know. Being douchey. Except he totally hates the word douchey and all it's various conjugations. Because like that shit is so nineties and Pete Wentz is a man who looks to the future, not to the past.
But whatever, he's a douche bag and he knows it and that's what's made him good in the business all these years. He's got other people to be the sugar portion for him. He's got Patrick. Patrick who is so sweet talking the shit out of everyone right now and pretending like he actually gives a shit about the show even though Pete knows for a fact that he's just doing it because Pete asked him too.
That's totally friendship right there and Pete knows that.
So here Patrick is, talking about how great this whole concept is going to be and how audiences and critics will praise it because it's fresh and the writing is superb and the cast... the cast they haven't quite worked out yet, but it's totally going to have new faces as well as old ones that Pete's audience has been attached to since the start of Sixteen Candles.
"But... Gabe Saporta... he's not exactly the most talented of actors," one executive says and Pete wants to punch him in the mouth because Gabe might not be classically trained or whatever, but he's still the shit.
"Yes, we're aware of that, but what he brings to the show will be totally insurmountable," Patrick says.
Patrick's good at using big words that probably having nothing to do with the point he's trying to get across. It totally confuses people and Pete loves that because the executive guy is straightening his tie and looking thoughtful and Patrick's just giving him that look that means, you know you want to believe me because I'm Patrick Stump and what I say is gold.
Patrick's still got it.
"This idea is very... interesting," the only woman among the group of executives says.
"But don't you think it's been done. I mean Ugly Betty..."
"Yes, I admit that it's somewhat similar to Ugly Betty, but this show is completely original. While it might borrow from other soap operas, it isn't a remake of one currently in rotation," Patrick says.
"And you think it will do well during the prime time slot?"
And this is where Patrick clears his throat and frowns. This had been the argument between them, whether or not they'd go prime time or stay true to regular soap operas and work during the daytime hours. Patrick had argued and argued with him for hours because of it.
"Pete, you're a prime time writer. You're someone who writes once a week. You're someone who needs the time to cultivate."
"I could churn something out everyday," Pete had said defensively.
"And it still rock to your standards. I'm not dealing with a diva for the rest of my life Pete."
"Sure you are. You're never going to leave me, Trick. Right? So you'll be dealing with me for the rest of your life whether you want to or not. You're stuck with me. Now make my show a reality."
So Pete knows this is the hard part for him, defending the whole daytime thing. Patrick has this thing where he does better with a show if he really believes in it, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t lie about it if he wants too.
“We were thinking about sticking to the classic format of a soap opera,” Patrick says.
The executives look confused and Pete can tell the moment it dawns on all of them, one by one like dominoes and they all open their mouths a few times like they want to talk about how utterly insane that idea is and he watches as Patrick’s smile becomes tighter because he can tell that Patrick is noticing the same thing.
“You want to go daytime,” someone says finally.
“That was the general idea, yes,” Patrick says.
His voice is tense and Pete tries to send him encouragement because if Patrick starts acting like he doesn’t believe that this whole thing is the shit then the whole thing is screwed.
Pete’s never seen executives in their suits and ties start to all talk at once and it’s sort of a relief to know that they’re not robots, but they’re also saying things like this is absurd and insane and ridiculous and budgetary costs alone, which is really not a relief. All the while Pete stares up at Patrick, Patrick in his suit and tie trying to blend in with the professionals when Pete knows he’s much more comfortable in a trucker hat and skinny jeans. He stares up at Patrick, eyes wide and he’s trying to tell Patrick that this idea is brilliant, completely brilliant and Patrick knows it in his gut.
It seems to be the kick Patrick needs. He answers all the questions and points to his powerpoint and maybe even gets a little bitchy with some of the ones that get snotty first.
Most of them leave without making any sort of offer.
Some stay back because Pete made a lot of money for Willis with Sixteen Candles and they know it. Pete’s been turning shit to hits since he first got into this business and they know it. The ones that stay back give platitudes, I’ll call you after I talk to the rest of the partners, it’s a great idea really, but you should consider primetime.
“Well, that was a waste of time,” Patrick mutters.
“I don’t think so.”
Pete looks up and sees a guy at the far end of Patrick’s long, rectangular table. He’s got some sort of tattoo on his neck that Pete can’t quite make out. It looks jarring against the fact that he’s in a suit like the rest of them, leaning back in his chair with his feet up and a smirk on his face.
“I like the idea,” the guy says.
“Cool. Does that mean you’re going to back us?” Pete asks.
“Pete,” Patrick mutters.
The guy just smirks more and folds his hands.
“I was thinking about it.”
“Really?” Patrick asks, voice surprised.
“Don’t sound so shocked. You’ve got a good head writer, a smart idea and the cast so far isn’t all that bad.”
“I sense a but,” Patrick says.
“You seem pretty determined to run this as a daytime thing,” the guy says.
“Yeah,” Pete says.
“See, I agree with those guys. It’s a risky idea.”
“It’ll totally work out. A daytime slot keeps it more original. It’s a great idea,” Pete says defensively.
“I never said it wasn’t a great idea. I said it was risky idea. And it is, but risky doesn’t always equal bad. Risky can sometimes equal fucking awesome.”
Pete smiles.
“There’s still a but,” Patrick says.
The guy sighs.
“Look, even if me and my company agree, which I can probably tell you right now is going to happen because my business partner is the biggest fanboy for Wentz’s writing I’ve ever encountered, pitching this to a major network isn’t going to fly.”
Patrick nods.
“You don’t know that,” Pete says.
“Pete, I told you before that getting a network to sign to this is going to be the most difficult part.”
“So we don’t get a major network,” the guy says loudly.
Patrick frowns.
“How…”
“We get a cable network. They’re much more willing to sign off on risky ideas. I think I might know a few interested in trying to break the monopoly major networks have over the daytime slots.”
“You think you can make it happen?” Patrick asks.
The guy smiles.
“I think we’re definitely going to try.”
“Sounds like we’re going into business together,” Pete says.
“Yeah, it’d be helpful if we knew your name,” Patrick says.
“Brian Schechter. I’m with Monroeville Productions,” Brian says.
“I thought Gerard Way and Ray Toro owned Monroeville Productions?” Patrick says.
“They do. I’m their third business partner. The one that likes to remain silent, but gets his hands dirty more often than not. Ray was busy and we were both afraid that Gerard was going to say yes to this before you even rolled out the presentation, so you got me,” Brian says.
“Some kick ass stuff comes out of Monroeville Productions,” Pete says.
“Yeah, we’re in the business of producing kick ass shit. So, let’s set up a meeting, try and get the ball rolling, some more casting, a test pilot, hammer out the details. How about Tuesday at noon at our offices. If that’s okay with you,” Brian says.
Pete watches as Patrick smiles and he knows that Patrick smile, it’s the one that means I’m really, really, really excited about something that I cannot even express it in words, but I don’t want you to know just how excited I am.
“Sounds like a plan,” Patrick says as casually as he can manage.
“Great. Looks like we’re going into business together.”
~*~
Gabe knows he’s a pretty shitty actor.
He’s not the worst. Not by far. He’s definitely better than that asshole they got to replace him on Sixteen Candles. Seriously that guy was a douche and his character was a douche and Gabe feels pretty bad about it, you know the whole Sixteen Candles ending thing because that was like Pete’s baby and shit, but he’s totally glad that douchebag won’t be gracing his television screen anymore.
At least he hopes anyway.
Willis is just the kind of asshole to back another television show with that guy as the star.
So when Pete Wentz comes around asking him to be the lead actor in his new show, Gabe’s a little more than floored.
“Me. You want me to be the lead in your new show? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Gabe asks.
“No, dude, you’re perfect. Perfect! Even Patrick agrees,” Pete says.
Gabe snorts because Pete says that like it means much. If Pete thinks it’s a great idea, then most of the time Patrick will too and Gabe’s not so sure that Patrick isn’t still humoring Pete at this point.
A soap opera isn’t exactly the sanest idea in the book.
“Come on. You read the script, you know it’s good,” Pete says.
“That’s not the problem. The problem is you want me to front this thing. I’m not lead actor material, man. I’m like… cool backstage guy who says the funny shit that lightens the dramatic moments.”
“Is Gabe Saporta admitting he can’t do something? Come on, you’d be fucking great. Romancing the pretty girl, speaking the language of love.”
“Isn’t that Italian?”
“Whatever dude. Look, it’s… I wrote this part with you in mind man. You have to do it,” Pete says.
He’s giving the puppy dog eyes that really only ever work on Patrick.
“Pete.”
“What else are you doing right now, huh? You do the test pilot, see if you like the character or not.”
“It’s a soap opera, man.”
“I know and I need you in on this. The idea’s crazy enough already.”
“And adding me to the mix is going to make things less crazy?”
“Yes. Yes because I have faith in you. I have faith that you’re gonna play this character and you’re going to make it awesome. I wrote this character for you.”
“You wrote a character for me. Seriously?”
“Yeah. So you gotta do it man.”
Gabe frowns.
“Dude, your little soap opera idea is gonna have enough problems passing snuff without having me as your lead character.”
“Well I say fuck it, okay. Fuck it. If I’m going to have enough problems to deal with then I might as well do it my way, okay. So, please tell me you’ll do it,” Pete says.
Gabe thinks about saying no.
Pete’s all but handing him a golden ticket here and he thinks about saying no. Not because he doesn’t think it might not be a good opportunity. Pete’s good at turning things into gold and even though this is probably the craziest idea ever thought.
But Gabe’s made his living, his small, meager living, but a living nonetheless, on small parts and background characters. He’s not classically trained. He’s not even sure he remembers how he got into acting in the first place. And Pete’s asking him to be lead in his new show.
Pete’s got that look though, the one that says he’s not going to take no for an answer, the one that says he’s going to do whatever it takes to get the job done the way he wants.
While Gabe certainly isn’t Patrick when it comes to saying no to Pete, Gabe knows better than to go up against that look. It’s the look that Pete gave him when he told Gabe he got the role of Dusty.
And he loves the roller coaster ride that had been.
“Okay, a test pilot. But if I suck it up in there big time, well, that’s what you fucking asked for, okay.”
Pete just smiles.
~*~
“Pete’s coming,” Ryan says.
Spencer quirks his lips and turns the page of his magazine. Apparently Lindsey Lohan was admitted to hospital with severe blood loss because she tried to carve Samantha Ronson’s name in her arm.
Spencer’s almost glad he’s not that famous.
“Yeah, why?”
“I have no idea. He said he wanted to talk to the both of us,” Ryan says with a shrug.
“Both of us? Really? I wonder what it’s about.”
“Gabe mentioned something about him trying to get a new show started. Maybe he’s gonna ask you to be in it.”
“And you?”
Ryan shrugs again.
“Everyone could use a makeup artist.”
“Wonder if it’s another vampire thing.”
Spencer hadn’t been involved in Sixteen Candles. He’d been on some tragic Dawson’s Creek rip off and hating every minute of it. Ryan had been fresh out of makeup artist school or whatever when he’d started on Sixteen Candles and ever since then, he’s been close with Pete. Apparently, Ryan does the best fake blood of anyone in the business except for Tom Savini or whatever. Spencer kind of doesn’t pay attention when Ryan’s talking about all the praise Pete gives him.
Not that Spencer doesn’t love Ryan. He does. Ryan is his best friend and Spencer wouldn’t even be in LA if it hadn’t been for Ryan pushing him, if it hadn’t been for Ryan promising to be in the business too.
“No, I don’t think so. Gabe was being all… Gabe about it so I didn’t get that many details, but I’m pretty sure it’s not another vampire thing.”
“Good, I don’t think I’d make a good undead creature.”
Ryan smiles and flops down on the couch right next to Spencer, head lolling until it’s resting on Spencer’s shoulder.
“I could make you look good without even trying.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment on my good looks or you boosting your own ego again.”
He doesn’t even have to look at Ryan to know Ryan is rolling his eyes.
“Whatever. So Lindsey Lohan killed herself?”
“No, but it was an almost kind of thing. Dr. Phil thinks it’s a cry for attention.”
“Her whole life is a cry for attention.”
“Yeah, well, we still love to read about it.”
“Correction, you love to read about it. I end up gathering the information because you leave your trashy magazines all over our apartment.”
Spencer rolls his eyes.
“I do not leave them all over the apartment. Just on the coffee tables where you put your coffee mugs down on them like they were coasters anyway.”
“Yeah, and when I do, I end up looking down and seeing Britney Spear’s face and a big yellow headline that says she’s pregnant with alien babies.”
Ryan throws a leg over Spencer’s, wiggles it until Spencer spread his legs to give Ryan’s room. It should be odd, the way Ryan just sort of curls up into Spencer, but Ryan had to get over the whole touch aversion when they met Brendon and now he’s like a bony cling-on to certain people.
He’s always been that way with Spencer though.
“I never go in for The Star bullshit.”
“Because People magazine and The Star aren’t practically the same thing at this point.”
“You’re a douche.”
“Duh.”
“Yeah, Pete Wentz is totally rubbing off on you. Or you wanna rub off on Pete Wentz. I can’t really tell which.”
Ryan jabs Spencer in the ribs with his bony elbow and Spencer frowns.
“I’m just saying…”
“Please. Don’t. It’s Pete. The world has seen his penis.”
“And you’re saying you don’t want to touch it.”
“Not at all.”
There’s truth behind Ryan’s words. Maybe at one point Ryan wanted to be with Pete like that, but not anymore, not since Ryan started working for Pete and Pete put him under his wing and nurtured him.
So Pete says.
“Yeah, whatever you…”
Spencer’s interrupted by the sound of their doorbell ringing and he’s not entirely shocked at the way it makes Ryan jump up and run to the door. The only person they’re expecting is Pete.
“Rossy!” Pete yells when Ryan throws open the door.
“Hey Pete,” Ryan says.
Others might think it sounds coy or flirty or what a socially awkward person might construe as coy or flirty, but it’s just Ryan being hero worshippy.
Which Spencer finds just as sickening.
“So I’m gonna offer you a job,” Pete says as he walks through the door, patting Ryan on his head and Ryan glares.
“Right down to business I see,” Spencer says.
“Spencer Smith! It’s good to see you as well. I’m gonna offer you a job too.”
Spencer rolls his eyes.
“We figured.”
“It’s a great job. For both of you. Maybe not as exciting as vampires for you, Ryan, but still pretty great. I think you’ll like it,” Pete says flopping down on the couch next to Spencer.
“What is it exactly?” Ryan asks sitting down in the loveseat across from the couch.
“I’m doing a soap opera, dude. It’s gonna be kick ass.”
And then Pete goes on and on and it does actually sound interesting, the storyline not as contrived as Spencer would’ve thought when Pete had said the words soap opera. He seems really enthusiastic about it too, which is always good. His enthusiasm is somewhat catching and Ryan’s sitting on the edge of his seat listening intensely.
It all sounds really great, something Spencer would be proud to be a part of in the long run.
Except.
“You want me to play a girl?” Spencer says.
“Yeah,” Pete says.
He’s excited. Like really excited and Spencer’s never been super close with Pete. Pete comes by and they have drinks and dinner and Ryan sings his praise and Spencer considers Pete a pretty good friend, but he’s never been able to read Pete or anything.
Still, Pete looks incredibly excited like he just came up with the best idea in the history of ideas.
“So you want me to play a drag queen?”
“No. A girl. Like you were born a girl.”
“But I’m a guy.”
“Yeah, I get that, but just imagine how awesome it would be Spencer.”
“If I played a girl?”
“You definitely have the hips for it,” Pete says.
“Pete. Like, be serious for five seconds. Why can’t I just play a guy? Because, you know, I am one,” Spencer says.
“I know you’re a guy, but this is going to be big. This is going to be huge.”
“Me playing a girl is going to be huge?”
Ryan snorts and Spencer turns to glare at him.
“How come you’re not helping?” Spencer asks.
“I’m thinking about how awesome it’s going to be to do your makeup everyday. And your clothes. You gotta let me pick out his clothes, Pete.”
“You’ll be head of that department, Ryan Rossy. You can pick out whatever clothes you want. And make ‘em flashy. This is a soap opera after all,” Pete says with a big grin.
“Okay, are you fucking serious here? You want me to play a woman. On television. Anyone else seeing why this is a fucking insane idea?”
But Pete and Ryan are smiling and talking a mile a minute about clothes and makeup and storylines and Spencer frowns.
“Guys, listen to me. Dressing up like a girl, playing a woman… this is not the best career choice.”
Pete leans over and squeezes Spencer’s hips.
“Hips, Spencer. Hips.”
“Okay, you touch me like that again and I will cut your balls off.”
“See, you’re already sounding like a woman,” Pete says happily.
Spencer’s glare deepens.
“You’re a tool. Wentz.”
“Come on, Spencer. At least read the script for me.”
“You want me to play a girl.”
“You gotta get over that. It’s a great part.”
Spencer frowns and clearly Ryan is intrigued, but Ryan gets intrigued by a lot of things.
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to get back to you.”
Pete just keeps grinning.
~*~
The script is kind of great.
It’s the first thing William notices when he’s doing a read through of the things that Tony sends over. Tony sends him a lot of shit in the hopes that something will stick and William will become interested again.
So far it’s all been shit.
It’s not William’s fault that he’s pretty much sapped for inspiration. He’d blame it on the scripts, but he’s pretty sure that one or two of them went on to become really great movies.
He just isn’t feeling it lately.
But he really likes this script. It’s fresh and it’s got something to say and William’s read the description and he knows it’s supposed to be a soap opera and okay, you’re supposed to move up from soap opera, not down, but the writing is smart and while there are clichés, they’re twisted and turned on their sides to become something completely new.
William loves it.
“Um… that was a joke, Bill,” Tony tells him over the phone after William calls him up to demand that Tony get him an audition.
“Have you read it?”
“It’s a soap opera. I think that pretty much speaks for itself.”
“It’s perfect. It’s everything I’ve been looking to do. And Pete Wentz is doing the writing.”
William pretty much loves Pete Wentz’s writing. He’d tried out for the role on Sixteen Candles when it first started and watched it pretty religiously until Pete left.
“You really have to get over this thing you have with Pete Wentz’s writing. There are so many other roles out there. Fuck, Rodriguez was asking about you the other day. Him and Tarantino are working on some new script that’s supposed to be epic, man.”
“No.”
“Bill.”
“No more horror. All I ever used to do was fucking horror. Just because I scream better than everyone else or whatever.”
“I know, I know, okay. I’m just… it’s Rodriguez and Tarantino and they were asking for you specifically. And they don’t always do horror.”
“Except that’s what they’ve been doing for the last five years.”
“Okay, okay. Look, I’ll set something up, okay. Did you have a part in mind? Because I’ve heard things about them having someone already attached to the lead part.”
“I was thinking the role of Victor.”
William hears Tony sigh at the other end, but Tony loves him. Tony would move mountains to make sure William got what he wanted.
Tony’s going to do this for him.
“Give me some time to make contacts. I’m sure they’d love to have you though. You would bring in big headlines.”
Williams shakes his head.
“It’s not about that, man. It’s about the art.”
Tony sighs again.
“Of course. The art. How could I forget?”
William smiles.
Tony is totally going to get him this part and William couldn’t be happier.
~*~
The thing is, Gerard is really excited to meet Pete Wentz.
He’d been a big fan of Sixteen Candles and the idea of working with Wentz on this new idea is just too appealing the pass up.
So Gerard had sent Brian because Ray and Brian had objected to Gerard going because they had all known that Gerard was going to agree to whatever it was Wentz put on the table.
“You can’t just agree to whatever Wentz wants okay. He’s got Patrick Stump on his side and Stump can be a pitbull sometimes. I’ve checked him out,” Brian says.
“I’m not just gonna agree,” Gerard says.
“You might,” Ray mutters.
“I won’t,” Gerard says.
“Good, because we’ve got some demands too, you know. People we want inside this,” Brian says.
“Right. Mikey,” Gerard says.
“And Frank. Frank likes the script. Frank wants a part,” Ray says.
Gerard rolls his eyes.
“I’m very well aware that Frankie wants a part. He’s been making me read lines with him,” Gerard says.
“And we want Bob in sound,” Brian says.
“Nepotism at it’s finest,” Ray says sarcastically.
“Hey, we’re the ones getting this thing jumped started. We’re putting a lot of money and resources into this. We should be able to get a few demands,” Brian says.
“Did you talk to the cable networks? Do you have things lined up?” Gerard asks.
“Yup. There’s one. Chicago based. Start up, but they’ve got a wide variety of shows already running. Critics seem to love them,” Brian says.
“Just the one?” Gerard says.
“Yeah, well…”
“ Mr. Way, Mr. Schecter, Mr. Toro. Your twelve o’clock appointment is here.”
Gerard nods and presses the intercom button.
“Thanks, Denise. Send them in.”
Gerard waits and watches as Pete Wentz and, who Gerard assumes has to be Patrick Stump, walk into the room. They sit down at the far end of the table and they look pretty polished, papers in hand and they look ready for business.
Gerard lets Brian do most of the talking because that’s what he’s good at and Patrick does his presentation from before, at least from what Gerard can tell it’s the same presentation. It wasn’t like he’d been there, but Brian had given him the cliff notes. Patrick talks about the people they’ve already got on board or will have on board. Gerard’s not exactly comfortable with the decision to make Gabe Saporta the lead, but Pete seems to have a lot of faith that Gabe can do it.
Patrick talks about various crew members that they know and would be willing to take a chance, talks about Victoria Asher joining the cast and Ryan Ross being the head make-up artist and wardrobe consultant.
“And we’ve even got William Beckett interested in the part of the sinister Victor. His people contacted us just the other day,” Patrick says.
He looks only mildly interested and Gerard has heard enough stories about Patrick Stump sticking up for Pete Wentz no matter what to know that Patrick maybe isn’t all that into this idea.
Gerard thinks that’s okay because he’s excited enough for everyone.
And Pete seems to be as well.
“That’s great. We think we’ve got FC Network on board. They want to see a test pilot and I know just the studio to give us time for cheap,” Brian says.
“Really? FC Network? They’re based in Chicago, right?” Pete asks.
“Yeah, they are. The owner, Andy Hurley, I sent him a copy of the script and he seems very excited about it. He just wants a test pilot. Besides, we have to fill all the available spots. We have someone in mind for the role of Melinda’s husband,” Brian says.
Gerard notices Pete make a face, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Really, who?”
“Frank Iero,” Ray says.
Patrick frowns.
“Isn’t he a musician?”
“He wants to break into the acting world. And he likes the role of Carlos,” Brian says.
“He’s a friend of yours?” Pete asks.
“Something like that,” Brian says.
Pete makes another face and Gerard frowns.
“Any other friends you want to put in this?” Pete asks sort of snidely.
Clearly he doesn’t know that Brian is the best person at hardball that Gerard knows.
“As a matter of fact, we do. Now, we’re not opposed to Ryan Ross as head make-up artist and wardrobe consultant. We actually think that’s a great idea because the guy is pretty great at what he does, but we do have a guy that we want to get in that department. His name’s Mikey. And we also have a guy we want in the sound/composing department. His name is Bob Bryar. He doesn’t have to be the key composer, but we’d like him on the team,” Brian says.
Pete snorts.
“Any other demands?”
Gerard frowns and Patrick makes shushing noises, but Pete seems kind of heated.
“I’m not putting up with this bullshit imposition, Patrick,” Pete says.
“Look, I get that you’ve had trouble in the past, but we’re not imposing much, here. Simple demands really. You’ll have full reign of everything, okay,” Brian says.
“Except who I want on my crew,” Pete says.
“You get to have the main people. We just want people on the crew. That’s it. If you shopped this to anyone else, they’d make way harsher demands,” Ray says.
Pete frowns.
“Just because you’re putting up money, you think you can make demands?”
“We could act like we own your ass,” Brian says.
“Now…”
“I think maybe if you had a chance to meet them, the people we want you to employ because they’re good people and good at their jobs, that maybe you might change your tune. We don’t want you to think this is a hostile take over or anything,” Gerard says.
Pete still has a frown on his face.
“I don’t…”
“Pete, stop acting like a child. The least you can do is meet them,” Patrick says.
Pete pouts and nods.
“Fine. When can we meet them?” Pete asks.
“They’re here, actually. Hanging around the offices,” Brian says.
Gerard watches as Pete grumbles and Patrick leans over and whispers something into Pete’s ear. It takes a few minutes before Pete nods, albeit reluctantly, and Brian presses the intercom button to tell Denise to round up Mikey, Frank and Bob. Denise agrees happily and it doesn’t take much longer before the guys to amble into the office.
“You called for us, Gee?” Mikey says.
Gerard nods.
“Yes, we just wanted you to meet Pete Wentz, the guy you’ll be working for. He wanted to speak with you before he just agreed to hire you,” Gerard says.
Bob snorts.
“I told you that you didn’t need to do this,” he grumbles.
Frank slaps him.
“Bob, they’re just trying to be awesome,” Frank says.
Frank smiles and walks over to Pete and sticks out his hand.
“Hi, I’m Frank Iero,” Frank says cordial.
Pete’s lips quirk and he tentatively takes Frank’s hand.
“Hi.”
“Look, these guys, they’re just trying to look out for us because they’re big suit guys and we’re not. Gerard’s in the habit of making everyone’s dreams come true if he can and Ray and Brian are big softies were we’re concerned. I get that you probably don’t want to just hirer some guy who you’ve never seen act before so I am more than willing to do screen tests and auditions and all that. Just know that I really want this part,” Frank says.
“And I can give you references,” Mikey says.
Pete sort of looks up, looking directly at Mikey and his eyes are soft and there’s something there that Gerard doesn’t quite want to name.
At least not right now.
“It’s just… I’ve already had to deal with people trying to control my vision,” Pete grumbles.
Frank nods and flops down into a seat next to Pete.
“Yeah, that sucks. I’ve had to deal with a lot of labels trying to make me sound like something I didn’t want to. It’s why I haven’t been able to stay on one for too long. So I get it. But these guys,” Frank says pointing towards the far end of the table, pointing towards him and Brian and Ray.
“These guys are gonna go to bat for you. They’re gonna do everything they can to make your vision a reality and they’re going to do it on your terms. They’re just asking for a little something in return,” Frank says.
Gerard smiles. Frank’s been with him on this thing for years, standing by and holding off tours to keep Gerard sane just so Gerard could have this, so Gerard could help others get their dreams off the ground.
“I know… I just…”
“It’s not like they’re asking you to bend over this table and get fucked in the ass,” Frank says.
“Just hirer people who I don’t even know.”
“Then don’t hire us. Just quit being a dick. They’re trying to help you,” Bob says.
Pete glares.
“Bob, you’re not helping,” Gerard says.
“I’m just saying. If he doesn’t want to hire us because we’re bad or whatever, that’s a different story. If he’s just doing it because he wants to be a little bitch…”
“Hey!”
“Jesus, Pete, he’s kind of right. They’re offering to do things that’ll make you happy. Suck it up already because this is the best chance we’ve got to get things done,” Patrick snaps.
Pete looks over at Patrick, kind of wounded and Gerard can tell that Bob’s smiling, small but there, trying to keep himself from laughing. Pete and Patrick have a bit of a stare off before Pete sighs and shakes his hands.
“Fine, but I do want a screen test and I want references,” Pete says.
Gerard thinks this is not going to be as simple as he had originally thought.
~*~
Frank’s really fucking excited.
Nothing’s definite, of course, but he’d seen the look on Wentz’s face when they had him run lines with the guy- seriously a guy who’d had a slightly pissy look on his face, but was pretty fucking great in the role- that was supposed to be playing his wife, though he ran out of the place screaming that he hadn’t made up his mind yet. Pete’s look was a good look. That was a look that said he’d played the part perfectly, that he was Wentz’s missing piece or some shit.
After the meeting that almost went to shit, Wentz had demanded a screen test on the spot. Frank would’ve been nervous, but he’d been going over lines with Gerard for weeks, fine tuning himself and making sure he had more than one facet to give.
Frank’s a performer. He got over stage fright years ago.
It hadn’t been official then even though Stump seemed to think he’d make a good fit. Wentz had grumbled and said they’d have to wait and see if he had any chemistry with Spencer.
The first thing Wentz did was make Spencer Smith come down to the studio for a read through and that’s when Frank had gotten the look.
That had been three days ago. Three days since Frank did the screen test and read through and he thinks Wentz is being a jerk for waiting this long, but they’ve got time before production starts and he has to make up his mind.
“You were pretty great in there,” Gerard says.
He feels Gerard’s arms wrapping around his waist, Gerard’s chest solid against his back and Frank smiles.
“I just wish I knew if I had the part,” Frank says.
“You’ve got the part. He’s gonna give it to you. He likes you. The way you handled that meeting… he’s going to give it to you, Frankie. He just wants to be stubborn about it.”
“Yeah, well, I get where he’s coming from, you know. He just wants to know that his vision is going to be protected,” Frank says.
“I’m sorry about Leathermouth,” Gerard whispers against his neck.
Frank flinches.
“It’s… I mean… I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Fair.”
And it is, fair. Because Frank went through months where all he wanted to do was talk about it, all he wanted to do was rail against it, rail against how unfuckingfair the whole thing had been and how Leathermouth came as close to being the band he’s always wanted for years.
He’s moved on.
“Do you think it was wrong of us to ask him to give you a part? And Mikey and Bob jobs?”
Frank sighs.
“Well considering it means I could be employed doing something new that I’ve wanted to do for awhile… come on, Gee, you can see how I’m a little biased here.”
“I know, but you have a different perspective. I mean if I am being a dick…”
“Bob’s right, okay. Bob’s right and Brian’s right and Ray’s right and that guy, Pete Wentz’s friend or handler or whatever, he’s right too. Any other company would be screwing him over royally and he’d have to take it. You’re just… asking for a few favors. There’s nothing wrong with that. He’s just reacting so strongly because he got screwed over before.”
“I know… I just…”
“You’re you so you feel bad.”
He feels Gerard smile against his neck.
“Was that even English, man?”
“Oh shut up. Look. I… you know I’m proud of you, right?”
“Frank.”
There’s something about the way his voice goes soft, the way Gerard says his name and he’s been with Gerard long enough, first as a friend trying to scrape Gerard up off the ground and help him get things running and then as something more, as Gerard’s partner. So he knows Gerard well enough to know what that tone means. He turns in Gerard’s arms and leans up to kiss him softly on the lips.
“I am.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You also know that this means I’m moving to Chicago. If I get this.’
“You know I’m coming with you.”
Frank makes a face.
“What, you don’t want me to?” Gerard asks, voice panicky.
“No, I’m just trying to imagine the look on Pete’s face when he finally realizes that we’re together.”
“You don’t think he has?”
“Well it’s not like we make out in the office.”
Gerard blinks a few times and Frank knows that Gerard can’t believe anyone wouldn’t know they were together.
“He’s kind of wrapped up in other stuff right now. I mean not that he doesn’t already expect a certain kind of favoritism. Mikey is your brother after all. Although I don’t think Mikey’s presence bothers him that much.”
Gerard frowns.
“You noticed that too.”
“It was like he was trying to take Mikey’s clothes off with his eyes.”
Gerard pulls a face.
“Yeah, well, I mean it doesn’t bother you that I threw my weight around to get you an audition. Because if you get the part, it’s totally because you deserve it and not because of anything else.”
He looks kind of distressed which Frank thinks is kind of funny, all things considered.
“That was throwing your weight around?”
“Frank,” Gerard says sharply.
Frank laughs.
“Yeah, no, dude, if I get this part it was totally because I was fucking awesome. And even if he had just folded and given me the part first day, I wouldn’t be upset. You know it’s not even like that.”
“Okay, I just… I wanted to make sure.”
“It’s going to be fine. FC Network will love the pilot and sign on for many, many episodes and it’ll be a hit and I’ll be a new star and we’ll buy some sort of creepy house that you can decorate all crazy and live happily ever after.”
“That’s your version of happily ever after?”
Frank smiles.
“Yeah, it’s pretty great, huh.”
Gerard smiles, wide and happy and he pulls Frank close.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s pretty great.”
Part 2
Band(s): The Academy Is..., Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance and Panic at the Disco (appearances by various members of The Cab, Empires, The Hush Sound, The Plain White Ts, Travis McCoy and Maja Ivarsson.) So basically more people than anyone should deal with.
Pairing(s): Gabe/William, Pete/Patrick, Ryan/Spencer, Brendon/Jon, Frank/Gerard, Butcher/Siska, Bob/Joe (implied Victoria/Ryland, Alex/Nate, Travie/Maja)
Word Count: 50,475
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Summary: When Pete Wentz decides to write a soap opera, he doesn't do it small; he does it HUGE and gets everyone involved. But is the real soap opera the one playing out for the television audience with Spanish villas and pirates and evil, sinister betrothals or the one behind the scenes that involves pill poppers, awesome partiers, live chickens, romantic gay love, wacky Three's Company Too mix ups and betrayal of the worst and most heinous kind? Well, that's kind of up to the crazy mix of actors, musicians, various crew and production members to decide for themselves. Even if they are the ones in the thick of it.
Author's Note: Oh my god, this ate my brain. I'm so pleased to be posting it and like, never looking at it again. Or something. I don't even know. It was supposed to be a simple idea that I started on back on New Year's and just transformed into this monster. Anyway, I hope you all have as much fun reading it as I had writing it, most days anyway.
Pete Wentz is a man who does things.
Like always. He’s always doing something. He can’t not be. He’s restless. It’s in his nature or something. But anyway, he always has to be doing something.
So this whole sitting around, doing nothing because of one little, minor, nervous breakdown over a tiny line of dialogue is completely retarded. It’s like it reinvented the word retarded and made it more heinous than it was before. That’s how retarded the situation is.
Stanley Willis is a huge douchenozzle too. Because damnit that had been Pete’s show. Pete’s show. He made that show what it is and now the writing sucks so bad, the network is actually thinking about canceling it and Pete would feel a thrill over that fact except that it’s his show and those are his characters and now they’re never going to come back.
Mostly it all just sucks.
He’d like to blame it on Patrick, he really would, because when Patrick was running things, Pete was totally in charge and he had his own staff and people and the show was still his own. But Patrick had to go and stand on his principles and piss off Papa Willis and then get fired from his job.
And Pete had been thrown to the wolves without an accomplice.
He should’ve known this was going to happen. Right when Stanley started firing Pete’s staff left and right until they were all replaced with mindless drones who couldn’t think for themselves and did his bidding. But the real decline came when Baby Willis had decided to kill of Gabe’s character right in the middle of some very important character building episodes.
When Pete had tried to stop him, Stanley claimed that Pete was playing favorites and no one wanted to see some secondary character find himself and figure out his love for the geeky technology expert, only for their love to become dashed by him turning into a vampire.
“It’s been done,” Stanley had said.
Pete had fought and fought, but Willis and Sons were the executive producers and they had the final say in everything because when Pete had first started, all he had was a few ideas and some friends in high places, but no chance of starting his own production company to fuel his dreams. He’d needed assistance.
Now he’s really wishing he’d just gone broke and put up his house.
So instead of turning into a vampire, Gabe’s character, Dusty, had been killed savagely in front of the eyes of his friends. There was an episode of grief and then it was like Dusty had never been there, even though he’d been with the show for the past four years.
After that, Pete couldn’t take the edits and censorship and he may have thrown a chair through Stanley’s expensive glass walls. He kind of doesn’t remember, his brain hazy from a mix of late nights and coffee and stimulants.
And now he’s sitting in his lonely apartment with a People magazine in his lap, the big cover proclaiming that A Little Less Sixteen Candles is getting staked. Pete really hates it when magazines try and get witty and cutsy. That’s all something that has really been done before.
At least they dedicated a whole three pages to the story. There’s a whole bunch on how the writing was clever and witty and related to people on so many different levels. The earlier seasons are compared to Buffy the Vampire Slayer but a lot edgier and without the high school melodrama as the background for the metaphor, but still crisp and intriguing.
‘Like a brilliant mix of Britain’s smash hit Torchwood and every awesome teen drama ever, Wentz’s Sixteen Candles was headed for great success until…’
Pete knows what comes after that. His sudden departure and how he turned up at Cedar-Sinai’s psych ward for a nervous breakdown. The papers had totally blown that out of proportion and Pete’s publicist had pretty much wanted to kill him, but anything had been better than being attached to a show that he wasn’t really his anymore.
He throws the magazine down and turns on the television.
It’s nothing but overly acted talk shows and stupid soap operas at this hour and Pete thinks the writing on soap operas is even worse than the acting, which is fucking saying something.
Pete thinks, I could do better.
And then he thinks, huh, I could do better.
~*~
Patrick Stump is not in the habit of telling Pete Wentz no.
It’s something he’s trying to work on, but, so far, it hasn’t been going that well.
Pete Wentz has been talking him into things since he was first introduced to Pete and Pete had gone on and on about how great his first script was and how he couldn’t wait for actors to fill the roles and then make it come to life.
The thing is, Pete’s script had been good and the show had been good and Patrick had been caught up in it and Pete ever since.
But then Willis had decided to be a big douche.
It hadn’t been so bad. Patrick had been looking for an excuse to start his own production company anyway. So far they don’t have much of anything going on, but it’s all about marketing and working it and making contacts, which is what Patrick is doing.
He’s doing it right when Pete Wentz walks through the door, frantic and kind of pale looking, with a million sheets of paper in his hands.
“What’s this?” Patrick asks.
“It’s my idea for a soap opera,” Pete says, making himself comfortable in Patrick’s chairs.
“What?”
“Soap opera, man. It’s like… the best idea I’ve ever had.”
“A soap opera?”
“Yeah, a soap opera. Because all the ones they play are super shitty.”
“That’s because they’re soap operas, Pete.”
“I know, but they don’t have to be shitty, Trick.”
“Pete, with the constraints on the budgets that they have and…”
“Patrick, look, they don’t have to be shitty. If they’re done right, anyway. Just because they have to air like everyday, does not excuse the shitty writing. Or the shitty acting. There are tons of actors out there that are just waiting for jobs.”
“Pete, do you know how ridiculously hard it is to become a start up soap opera? Those things have been around for decades. They never add new ones. And they’re run by major networks.”
“You’ve got friends, Patty.”
“No, I don’t have those kinds of friends.”
“So we go with a cable network. Someone willing to take a chance. I’m sure there’s a network out there.”
Patrick sighs.
“Look, I know that with Sixteen Candles ending…”
“Fuck, Patrick, it’s not about that. There should be more to watch in the middle of the day than bad plotlines and Jerry Springer. There should be something with actual quality.”
Patrick bites his bottom lip, eyes going beady and he doesn’t quite know what to say.
“Pete.”
“Come on, Patrick, you know it’s a brilliant idea. Probably the best I’ve ever come up with.”
“We could totally work it, maybe. I just… soap opera? Like running five days a week during a daytime slot? Come on, Pete, that would be nearly impossible for anyone to pull off and you’re trying to get me…”
“You’re brilliant. People listen to you. You’d wow the shit out of everyone.”
Patrick maybe blushes a little. He’s known Pete for close to six years now and Pete’s been complimenting him ever since, but it’s still a thing. A thing that Patrick is totally not used to.
“Look, I wanna help…”
“So do it.”
“But,” Patrick says loudly, trying to ignore Pete interrupting him again.
“My production company just does not have enough clout for that kind of thing, Pete. We’re dealing with small things right now and I’m trying to dip my hand in music…”
“Because you’re fucking awesome.”
Patrick rolls his eyes.
“I’m trying to tell you that my little production company that could, can’t.”
Because Patrick knows the ins and outs and he knows how much money they’re bringing in and it’s a start up business in a really shitty time. He knows what he’s capable of and he knows how far to stretch his resources. He’s a good business man.
It doesn’t stop him from almost agreeing to this crazy plan just because Pete’s pouting at him.
Pete’s brows furrow and he opens his mouth a few times, lips quirking and Patrick can tell he’s trying to think of just the right thing to say, how to phrase it. Pete’s better with the written word then with speech, even if most people think it’s the opposite.
“Then you have to help me find someone who can.”
“Pete.”
“You’ve got connections and I’m not good at talking people into shit.”
Yeah, right, Patrick thinks.
“You’ve got a script?”
Pete smiles that wide smile that Patrick knows means Pete thinks he’s won already.
“Yup. And it’s great.”
“I have to read it first.”
“Of course.”
“And it might take me awhile to draw up a presentation.”
“You’ll draw up something epic, Pattycakes, I just know it.”
“And getting meetings with production companies and then networks is going to a bitch, so I can’t promise that anything will come of it.”
“You’ll charm the pants off of them. They’ll be helpless to do anything but agree to what you ask them to do.”
“Your overconfidence is irritating,” Patrick says.
Pete just smiles even wider.
Patrick thinks he’s really, really got break himself of this habit of saying yes to Pete Wentz. He’s going to look into classes or something, so he can preserve his sanity.
Right after he reads Pete’s script, comes up with a presentation and tries to get meetings with production companies.
It’s a good plan.
~*~
Pete Wentz doesn't mean to be such a douche bag. It was just sort of in his nature, you know. Being douchey. Except he totally hates the word douchey and all it's various conjugations. Because like that shit is so nineties and Pete Wentz is a man who looks to the future, not to the past.
But whatever, he's a douche bag and he knows it and that's what's made him good in the business all these years. He's got other people to be the sugar portion for him. He's got Patrick. Patrick who is so sweet talking the shit out of everyone right now and pretending like he actually gives a shit about the show even though Pete knows for a fact that he's just doing it because Pete asked him too.
That's totally friendship right there and Pete knows that.
So here Patrick is, talking about how great this whole concept is going to be and how audiences and critics will praise it because it's fresh and the writing is superb and the cast... the cast they haven't quite worked out yet, but it's totally going to have new faces as well as old ones that Pete's audience has been attached to since the start of Sixteen Candles.
"But... Gabe Saporta... he's not exactly the most talented of actors," one executive says and Pete wants to punch him in the mouth because Gabe might not be classically trained or whatever, but he's still the shit.
"Yes, we're aware of that, but what he brings to the show will be totally insurmountable," Patrick says.
Patrick's good at using big words that probably having nothing to do with the point he's trying to get across. It totally confuses people and Pete loves that because the executive guy is straightening his tie and looking thoughtful and Patrick's just giving him that look that means, you know you want to believe me because I'm Patrick Stump and what I say is gold.
Patrick's still got it.
"This idea is very... interesting," the only woman among the group of executives says.
"But don't you think it's been done. I mean Ugly Betty..."
"Yes, I admit that it's somewhat similar to Ugly Betty, but this show is completely original. While it might borrow from other soap operas, it isn't a remake of one currently in rotation," Patrick says.
"And you think it will do well during the prime time slot?"
And this is where Patrick clears his throat and frowns. This had been the argument between them, whether or not they'd go prime time or stay true to regular soap operas and work during the daytime hours. Patrick had argued and argued with him for hours because of it.
"Pete, you're a prime time writer. You're someone who writes once a week. You're someone who needs the time to cultivate."
"I could churn something out everyday," Pete had said defensively.
"And it still rock to your standards. I'm not dealing with a diva for the rest of my life Pete."
"Sure you are. You're never going to leave me, Trick. Right? So you'll be dealing with me for the rest of your life whether you want to or not. You're stuck with me. Now make my show a reality."
So Pete knows this is the hard part for him, defending the whole daytime thing. Patrick has this thing where he does better with a show if he really believes in it, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t lie about it if he wants too.
“We were thinking about sticking to the classic format of a soap opera,” Patrick says.
The executives look confused and Pete can tell the moment it dawns on all of them, one by one like dominoes and they all open their mouths a few times like they want to talk about how utterly insane that idea is and he watches as Patrick’s smile becomes tighter because he can tell that Patrick is noticing the same thing.
“You want to go daytime,” someone says finally.
“That was the general idea, yes,” Patrick says.
His voice is tense and Pete tries to send him encouragement because if Patrick starts acting like he doesn’t believe that this whole thing is the shit then the whole thing is screwed.
Pete’s never seen executives in their suits and ties start to all talk at once and it’s sort of a relief to know that they’re not robots, but they’re also saying things like this is absurd and insane and ridiculous and budgetary costs alone, which is really not a relief. All the while Pete stares up at Patrick, Patrick in his suit and tie trying to blend in with the professionals when Pete knows he’s much more comfortable in a trucker hat and skinny jeans. He stares up at Patrick, eyes wide and he’s trying to tell Patrick that this idea is brilliant, completely brilliant and Patrick knows it in his gut.
It seems to be the kick Patrick needs. He answers all the questions and points to his powerpoint and maybe even gets a little bitchy with some of the ones that get snotty first.
Most of them leave without making any sort of offer.
Some stay back because Pete made a lot of money for Willis with Sixteen Candles and they know it. Pete’s been turning shit to hits since he first got into this business and they know it. The ones that stay back give platitudes, I’ll call you after I talk to the rest of the partners, it’s a great idea really, but you should consider primetime.
“Well, that was a waste of time,” Patrick mutters.
“I don’t think so.”
Pete looks up and sees a guy at the far end of Patrick’s long, rectangular table. He’s got some sort of tattoo on his neck that Pete can’t quite make out. It looks jarring against the fact that he’s in a suit like the rest of them, leaning back in his chair with his feet up and a smirk on his face.
“I like the idea,” the guy says.
“Cool. Does that mean you’re going to back us?” Pete asks.
“Pete,” Patrick mutters.
The guy just smirks more and folds his hands.
“I was thinking about it.”
“Really?” Patrick asks, voice surprised.
“Don’t sound so shocked. You’ve got a good head writer, a smart idea and the cast so far isn’t all that bad.”
“I sense a but,” Patrick says.
“You seem pretty determined to run this as a daytime thing,” the guy says.
“Yeah,” Pete says.
“See, I agree with those guys. It’s a risky idea.”
“It’ll totally work out. A daytime slot keeps it more original. It’s a great idea,” Pete says defensively.
“I never said it wasn’t a great idea. I said it was risky idea. And it is, but risky doesn’t always equal bad. Risky can sometimes equal fucking awesome.”
Pete smiles.
“There’s still a but,” Patrick says.
The guy sighs.
“Look, even if me and my company agree, which I can probably tell you right now is going to happen because my business partner is the biggest fanboy for Wentz’s writing I’ve ever encountered, pitching this to a major network isn’t going to fly.”
Patrick nods.
“You don’t know that,” Pete says.
“Pete, I told you before that getting a network to sign to this is going to be the most difficult part.”
“So we don’t get a major network,” the guy says loudly.
Patrick frowns.
“How…”
“We get a cable network. They’re much more willing to sign off on risky ideas. I think I might know a few interested in trying to break the monopoly major networks have over the daytime slots.”
“You think you can make it happen?” Patrick asks.
The guy smiles.
“I think we’re definitely going to try.”
“Sounds like we’re going into business together,” Pete says.
“Yeah, it’d be helpful if we knew your name,” Patrick says.
“Brian Schechter. I’m with Monroeville Productions,” Brian says.
“I thought Gerard Way and Ray Toro owned Monroeville Productions?” Patrick says.
“They do. I’m their third business partner. The one that likes to remain silent, but gets his hands dirty more often than not. Ray was busy and we were both afraid that Gerard was going to say yes to this before you even rolled out the presentation, so you got me,” Brian says.
“Some kick ass stuff comes out of Monroeville Productions,” Pete says.
“Yeah, we’re in the business of producing kick ass shit. So, let’s set up a meeting, try and get the ball rolling, some more casting, a test pilot, hammer out the details. How about Tuesday at noon at our offices. If that’s okay with you,” Brian says.
Pete watches as Patrick smiles and he knows that Patrick smile, it’s the one that means I’m really, really, really excited about something that I cannot even express it in words, but I don’t want you to know just how excited I am.
“Sounds like a plan,” Patrick says as casually as he can manage.
“Great. Looks like we’re going into business together.”
~*~
Gabe knows he’s a pretty shitty actor.
He’s not the worst. Not by far. He’s definitely better than that asshole they got to replace him on Sixteen Candles. Seriously that guy was a douche and his character was a douche and Gabe feels pretty bad about it, you know the whole Sixteen Candles ending thing because that was like Pete’s baby and shit, but he’s totally glad that douchebag won’t be gracing his television screen anymore.
At least he hopes anyway.
Willis is just the kind of asshole to back another television show with that guy as the star.
So when Pete Wentz comes around asking him to be the lead actor in his new show, Gabe’s a little more than floored.
“Me. You want me to be the lead in your new show? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Gabe asks.
“No, dude, you’re perfect. Perfect! Even Patrick agrees,” Pete says.
Gabe snorts because Pete says that like it means much. If Pete thinks it’s a great idea, then most of the time Patrick will too and Gabe’s not so sure that Patrick isn’t still humoring Pete at this point.
A soap opera isn’t exactly the sanest idea in the book.
“Come on. You read the script, you know it’s good,” Pete says.
“That’s not the problem. The problem is you want me to front this thing. I’m not lead actor material, man. I’m like… cool backstage guy who says the funny shit that lightens the dramatic moments.”
“Is Gabe Saporta admitting he can’t do something? Come on, you’d be fucking great. Romancing the pretty girl, speaking the language of love.”
“Isn’t that Italian?”
“Whatever dude. Look, it’s… I wrote this part with you in mind man. You have to do it,” Pete says.
He’s giving the puppy dog eyes that really only ever work on Patrick.
“Pete.”
“What else are you doing right now, huh? You do the test pilot, see if you like the character or not.”
“It’s a soap opera, man.”
“I know and I need you in on this. The idea’s crazy enough already.”
“And adding me to the mix is going to make things less crazy?”
“Yes. Yes because I have faith in you. I have faith that you’re gonna play this character and you’re going to make it awesome. I wrote this character for you.”
“You wrote a character for me. Seriously?”
“Yeah. So you gotta do it man.”
Gabe frowns.
“Dude, your little soap opera idea is gonna have enough problems passing snuff without having me as your lead character.”
“Well I say fuck it, okay. Fuck it. If I’m going to have enough problems to deal with then I might as well do it my way, okay. So, please tell me you’ll do it,” Pete says.
Gabe thinks about saying no.
Pete’s all but handing him a golden ticket here and he thinks about saying no. Not because he doesn’t think it might not be a good opportunity. Pete’s good at turning things into gold and even though this is probably the craziest idea ever thought.
But Gabe’s made his living, his small, meager living, but a living nonetheless, on small parts and background characters. He’s not classically trained. He’s not even sure he remembers how he got into acting in the first place. And Pete’s asking him to be lead in his new show.
Pete’s got that look though, the one that says he’s not going to take no for an answer, the one that says he’s going to do whatever it takes to get the job done the way he wants.
While Gabe certainly isn’t Patrick when it comes to saying no to Pete, Gabe knows better than to go up against that look. It’s the look that Pete gave him when he told Gabe he got the role of Dusty.
And he loves the roller coaster ride that had been.
“Okay, a test pilot. But if I suck it up in there big time, well, that’s what you fucking asked for, okay.”
Pete just smiles.
~*~
“Pete’s coming,” Ryan says.
Spencer quirks his lips and turns the page of his magazine. Apparently Lindsey Lohan was admitted to hospital with severe blood loss because she tried to carve Samantha Ronson’s name in her arm.
Spencer’s almost glad he’s not that famous.
“Yeah, why?”
“I have no idea. He said he wanted to talk to the both of us,” Ryan says with a shrug.
“Both of us? Really? I wonder what it’s about.”
“Gabe mentioned something about him trying to get a new show started. Maybe he’s gonna ask you to be in it.”
“And you?”
Ryan shrugs again.
“Everyone could use a makeup artist.”
“Wonder if it’s another vampire thing.”
Spencer hadn’t been involved in Sixteen Candles. He’d been on some tragic Dawson’s Creek rip off and hating every minute of it. Ryan had been fresh out of makeup artist school or whatever when he’d started on Sixteen Candles and ever since then, he’s been close with Pete. Apparently, Ryan does the best fake blood of anyone in the business except for Tom Savini or whatever. Spencer kind of doesn’t pay attention when Ryan’s talking about all the praise Pete gives him.
Not that Spencer doesn’t love Ryan. He does. Ryan is his best friend and Spencer wouldn’t even be in LA if it hadn’t been for Ryan pushing him, if it hadn’t been for Ryan promising to be in the business too.
“No, I don’t think so. Gabe was being all… Gabe about it so I didn’t get that many details, but I’m pretty sure it’s not another vampire thing.”
“Good, I don’t think I’d make a good undead creature.”
Ryan smiles and flops down on the couch right next to Spencer, head lolling until it’s resting on Spencer’s shoulder.
“I could make you look good without even trying.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment on my good looks or you boosting your own ego again.”
He doesn’t even have to look at Ryan to know Ryan is rolling his eyes.
“Whatever. So Lindsey Lohan killed herself?”
“No, but it was an almost kind of thing. Dr. Phil thinks it’s a cry for attention.”
“Her whole life is a cry for attention.”
“Yeah, well, we still love to read about it.”
“Correction, you love to read about it. I end up gathering the information because you leave your trashy magazines all over our apartment.”
Spencer rolls his eyes.
“I do not leave them all over the apartment. Just on the coffee tables where you put your coffee mugs down on them like they were coasters anyway.”
“Yeah, and when I do, I end up looking down and seeing Britney Spear’s face and a big yellow headline that says she’s pregnant with alien babies.”
Ryan throws a leg over Spencer’s, wiggles it until Spencer spread his legs to give Ryan’s room. It should be odd, the way Ryan just sort of curls up into Spencer, but Ryan had to get over the whole touch aversion when they met Brendon and now he’s like a bony cling-on to certain people.
He’s always been that way with Spencer though.
“I never go in for The Star bullshit.”
“Because People magazine and The Star aren’t practically the same thing at this point.”
“You’re a douche.”
“Duh.”
“Yeah, Pete Wentz is totally rubbing off on you. Or you wanna rub off on Pete Wentz. I can’t really tell which.”
Ryan jabs Spencer in the ribs with his bony elbow and Spencer frowns.
“I’m just saying…”
“Please. Don’t. It’s Pete. The world has seen his penis.”
“And you’re saying you don’t want to touch it.”
“Not at all.”
There’s truth behind Ryan’s words. Maybe at one point Ryan wanted to be with Pete like that, but not anymore, not since Ryan started working for Pete and Pete put him under his wing and nurtured him.
So Pete says.
“Yeah, whatever you…”
Spencer’s interrupted by the sound of their doorbell ringing and he’s not entirely shocked at the way it makes Ryan jump up and run to the door. The only person they’re expecting is Pete.
“Rossy!” Pete yells when Ryan throws open the door.
“Hey Pete,” Ryan says.
Others might think it sounds coy or flirty or what a socially awkward person might construe as coy or flirty, but it’s just Ryan being hero worshippy.
Which Spencer finds just as sickening.
“So I’m gonna offer you a job,” Pete says as he walks through the door, patting Ryan on his head and Ryan glares.
“Right down to business I see,” Spencer says.
“Spencer Smith! It’s good to see you as well. I’m gonna offer you a job too.”
Spencer rolls his eyes.
“We figured.”
“It’s a great job. For both of you. Maybe not as exciting as vampires for you, Ryan, but still pretty great. I think you’ll like it,” Pete says flopping down on the couch next to Spencer.
“What is it exactly?” Ryan asks sitting down in the loveseat across from the couch.
“I’m doing a soap opera, dude. It’s gonna be kick ass.”
And then Pete goes on and on and it does actually sound interesting, the storyline not as contrived as Spencer would’ve thought when Pete had said the words soap opera. He seems really enthusiastic about it too, which is always good. His enthusiasm is somewhat catching and Ryan’s sitting on the edge of his seat listening intensely.
It all sounds really great, something Spencer would be proud to be a part of in the long run.
Except.
“You want me to play a girl?” Spencer says.
“Yeah,” Pete says.
He’s excited. Like really excited and Spencer’s never been super close with Pete. Pete comes by and they have drinks and dinner and Ryan sings his praise and Spencer considers Pete a pretty good friend, but he’s never been able to read Pete or anything.
Still, Pete looks incredibly excited like he just came up with the best idea in the history of ideas.
“So you want me to play a drag queen?”
“No. A girl. Like you were born a girl.”
“But I’m a guy.”
“Yeah, I get that, but just imagine how awesome it would be Spencer.”
“If I played a girl?”
“You definitely have the hips for it,” Pete says.
“Pete. Like, be serious for five seconds. Why can’t I just play a guy? Because, you know, I am one,” Spencer says.
“I know you’re a guy, but this is going to be big. This is going to be huge.”
“Me playing a girl is going to be huge?”
Ryan snorts and Spencer turns to glare at him.
“How come you’re not helping?” Spencer asks.
“I’m thinking about how awesome it’s going to be to do your makeup everyday. And your clothes. You gotta let me pick out his clothes, Pete.”
“You’ll be head of that department, Ryan Rossy. You can pick out whatever clothes you want. And make ‘em flashy. This is a soap opera after all,” Pete says with a big grin.
“Okay, are you fucking serious here? You want me to play a woman. On television. Anyone else seeing why this is a fucking insane idea?”
But Pete and Ryan are smiling and talking a mile a minute about clothes and makeup and storylines and Spencer frowns.
“Guys, listen to me. Dressing up like a girl, playing a woman… this is not the best career choice.”
Pete leans over and squeezes Spencer’s hips.
“Hips, Spencer. Hips.”
“Okay, you touch me like that again and I will cut your balls off.”
“See, you’re already sounding like a woman,” Pete says happily.
Spencer’s glare deepens.
“You’re a tool. Wentz.”
“Come on, Spencer. At least read the script for me.”
“You want me to play a girl.”
“You gotta get over that. It’s a great part.”
Spencer frowns and clearly Ryan is intrigued, but Ryan gets intrigued by a lot of things.
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to get back to you.”
Pete just keeps grinning.
~*~
The script is kind of great.
It’s the first thing William notices when he’s doing a read through of the things that Tony sends over. Tony sends him a lot of shit in the hopes that something will stick and William will become interested again.
So far it’s all been shit.
It’s not William’s fault that he’s pretty much sapped for inspiration. He’d blame it on the scripts, but he’s pretty sure that one or two of them went on to become really great movies.
He just isn’t feeling it lately.
But he really likes this script. It’s fresh and it’s got something to say and William’s read the description and he knows it’s supposed to be a soap opera and okay, you’re supposed to move up from soap opera, not down, but the writing is smart and while there are clichés, they’re twisted and turned on their sides to become something completely new.
William loves it.
“Um… that was a joke, Bill,” Tony tells him over the phone after William calls him up to demand that Tony get him an audition.
“Have you read it?”
“It’s a soap opera. I think that pretty much speaks for itself.”
“It’s perfect. It’s everything I’ve been looking to do. And Pete Wentz is doing the writing.”
William pretty much loves Pete Wentz’s writing. He’d tried out for the role on Sixteen Candles when it first started and watched it pretty religiously until Pete left.
“You really have to get over this thing you have with Pete Wentz’s writing. There are so many other roles out there. Fuck, Rodriguez was asking about you the other day. Him and Tarantino are working on some new script that’s supposed to be epic, man.”
“No.”
“Bill.”
“No more horror. All I ever used to do was fucking horror. Just because I scream better than everyone else or whatever.”
“I know, I know, okay. I’m just… it’s Rodriguez and Tarantino and they were asking for you specifically. And they don’t always do horror.”
“Except that’s what they’ve been doing for the last five years.”
“Okay, okay. Look, I’ll set something up, okay. Did you have a part in mind? Because I’ve heard things about them having someone already attached to the lead part.”
“I was thinking the role of Victor.”
William hears Tony sigh at the other end, but Tony loves him. Tony would move mountains to make sure William got what he wanted.
Tony’s going to do this for him.
“Give me some time to make contacts. I’m sure they’d love to have you though. You would bring in big headlines.”
Williams shakes his head.
“It’s not about that, man. It’s about the art.”
Tony sighs again.
“Of course. The art. How could I forget?”
William smiles.
Tony is totally going to get him this part and William couldn’t be happier.
~*~
The thing is, Gerard is really excited to meet Pete Wentz.
He’d been a big fan of Sixteen Candles and the idea of working with Wentz on this new idea is just too appealing the pass up.
So Gerard had sent Brian because Ray and Brian had objected to Gerard going because they had all known that Gerard was going to agree to whatever it was Wentz put on the table.
“You can’t just agree to whatever Wentz wants okay. He’s got Patrick Stump on his side and Stump can be a pitbull sometimes. I’ve checked him out,” Brian says.
“I’m not just gonna agree,” Gerard says.
“You might,” Ray mutters.
“I won’t,” Gerard says.
“Good, because we’ve got some demands too, you know. People we want inside this,” Brian says.
“Right. Mikey,” Gerard says.
“And Frank. Frank likes the script. Frank wants a part,” Ray says.
Gerard rolls his eyes.
“I’m very well aware that Frankie wants a part. He’s been making me read lines with him,” Gerard says.
“And we want Bob in sound,” Brian says.
“Nepotism at it’s finest,” Ray says sarcastically.
“Hey, we’re the ones getting this thing jumped started. We’re putting a lot of money and resources into this. We should be able to get a few demands,” Brian says.
“Did you talk to the cable networks? Do you have things lined up?” Gerard asks.
“Yup. There’s one. Chicago based. Start up, but they’ve got a wide variety of shows already running. Critics seem to love them,” Brian says.
“Just the one?” Gerard says.
“Yeah, well…”
“ Mr. Way, Mr. Schecter, Mr. Toro. Your twelve o’clock appointment is here.”
Gerard nods and presses the intercom button.
“Thanks, Denise. Send them in.”
Gerard waits and watches as Pete Wentz and, who Gerard assumes has to be Patrick Stump, walk into the room. They sit down at the far end of the table and they look pretty polished, papers in hand and they look ready for business.
Gerard lets Brian do most of the talking because that’s what he’s good at and Patrick does his presentation from before, at least from what Gerard can tell it’s the same presentation. It wasn’t like he’d been there, but Brian had given him the cliff notes. Patrick talks about the people they’ve already got on board or will have on board. Gerard’s not exactly comfortable with the decision to make Gabe Saporta the lead, but Pete seems to have a lot of faith that Gabe can do it.
Patrick talks about various crew members that they know and would be willing to take a chance, talks about Victoria Asher joining the cast and Ryan Ross being the head make-up artist and wardrobe consultant.
“And we’ve even got William Beckett interested in the part of the sinister Victor. His people contacted us just the other day,” Patrick says.
He looks only mildly interested and Gerard has heard enough stories about Patrick Stump sticking up for Pete Wentz no matter what to know that Patrick maybe isn’t all that into this idea.
Gerard thinks that’s okay because he’s excited enough for everyone.
And Pete seems to be as well.
“That’s great. We think we’ve got FC Network on board. They want to see a test pilot and I know just the studio to give us time for cheap,” Brian says.
“Really? FC Network? They’re based in Chicago, right?” Pete asks.
“Yeah, they are. The owner, Andy Hurley, I sent him a copy of the script and he seems very excited about it. He just wants a test pilot. Besides, we have to fill all the available spots. We have someone in mind for the role of Melinda’s husband,” Brian says.
Gerard notices Pete make a face, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Really, who?”
“Frank Iero,” Ray says.
Patrick frowns.
“Isn’t he a musician?”
“He wants to break into the acting world. And he likes the role of Carlos,” Brian says.
“He’s a friend of yours?” Pete asks.
“Something like that,” Brian says.
Pete makes another face and Gerard frowns.
“Any other friends you want to put in this?” Pete asks sort of snidely.
Clearly he doesn’t know that Brian is the best person at hardball that Gerard knows.
“As a matter of fact, we do. Now, we’re not opposed to Ryan Ross as head make-up artist and wardrobe consultant. We actually think that’s a great idea because the guy is pretty great at what he does, but we do have a guy that we want to get in that department. His name’s Mikey. And we also have a guy we want in the sound/composing department. His name is Bob Bryar. He doesn’t have to be the key composer, but we’d like him on the team,” Brian says.
Pete snorts.
“Any other demands?”
Gerard frowns and Patrick makes shushing noises, but Pete seems kind of heated.
“I’m not putting up with this bullshit imposition, Patrick,” Pete says.
“Look, I get that you’ve had trouble in the past, but we’re not imposing much, here. Simple demands really. You’ll have full reign of everything, okay,” Brian says.
“Except who I want on my crew,” Pete says.
“You get to have the main people. We just want people on the crew. That’s it. If you shopped this to anyone else, they’d make way harsher demands,” Ray says.
Pete frowns.
“Just because you’re putting up money, you think you can make demands?”
“We could act like we own your ass,” Brian says.
“Now…”
“I think maybe if you had a chance to meet them, the people we want you to employ because they’re good people and good at their jobs, that maybe you might change your tune. We don’t want you to think this is a hostile take over or anything,” Gerard says.
Pete still has a frown on his face.
“I don’t…”
“Pete, stop acting like a child. The least you can do is meet them,” Patrick says.
Pete pouts and nods.
“Fine. When can we meet them?” Pete asks.
“They’re here, actually. Hanging around the offices,” Brian says.
Gerard watches as Pete grumbles and Patrick leans over and whispers something into Pete’s ear. It takes a few minutes before Pete nods, albeit reluctantly, and Brian presses the intercom button to tell Denise to round up Mikey, Frank and Bob. Denise agrees happily and it doesn’t take much longer before the guys to amble into the office.
“You called for us, Gee?” Mikey says.
Gerard nods.
“Yes, we just wanted you to meet Pete Wentz, the guy you’ll be working for. He wanted to speak with you before he just agreed to hire you,” Gerard says.
Bob snorts.
“I told you that you didn’t need to do this,” he grumbles.
Frank slaps him.
“Bob, they’re just trying to be awesome,” Frank says.
Frank smiles and walks over to Pete and sticks out his hand.
“Hi, I’m Frank Iero,” Frank says cordial.
Pete’s lips quirk and he tentatively takes Frank’s hand.
“Hi.”
“Look, these guys, they’re just trying to look out for us because they’re big suit guys and we’re not. Gerard’s in the habit of making everyone’s dreams come true if he can and Ray and Brian are big softies were we’re concerned. I get that you probably don’t want to just hirer some guy who you’ve never seen act before so I am more than willing to do screen tests and auditions and all that. Just know that I really want this part,” Frank says.
“And I can give you references,” Mikey says.
Pete sort of looks up, looking directly at Mikey and his eyes are soft and there’s something there that Gerard doesn’t quite want to name.
At least not right now.
“It’s just… I’ve already had to deal with people trying to control my vision,” Pete grumbles.
Frank nods and flops down into a seat next to Pete.
“Yeah, that sucks. I’ve had to deal with a lot of labels trying to make me sound like something I didn’t want to. It’s why I haven’t been able to stay on one for too long. So I get it. But these guys,” Frank says pointing towards the far end of the table, pointing towards him and Brian and Ray.
“These guys are gonna go to bat for you. They’re gonna do everything they can to make your vision a reality and they’re going to do it on your terms. They’re just asking for a little something in return,” Frank says.
Gerard smiles. Frank’s been with him on this thing for years, standing by and holding off tours to keep Gerard sane just so Gerard could have this, so Gerard could help others get their dreams off the ground.
“I know… I just…”
“It’s not like they’re asking you to bend over this table and get fucked in the ass,” Frank says.
“Just hirer people who I don’t even know.”
“Then don’t hire us. Just quit being a dick. They’re trying to help you,” Bob says.
Pete glares.
“Bob, you’re not helping,” Gerard says.
“I’m just saying. If he doesn’t want to hire us because we’re bad or whatever, that’s a different story. If he’s just doing it because he wants to be a little bitch…”
“Hey!”
“Jesus, Pete, he’s kind of right. They’re offering to do things that’ll make you happy. Suck it up already because this is the best chance we’ve got to get things done,” Patrick snaps.
Pete looks over at Patrick, kind of wounded and Gerard can tell that Bob’s smiling, small but there, trying to keep himself from laughing. Pete and Patrick have a bit of a stare off before Pete sighs and shakes his hands.
“Fine, but I do want a screen test and I want references,” Pete says.
Gerard thinks this is not going to be as simple as he had originally thought.
~*~
Frank’s really fucking excited.
Nothing’s definite, of course, but he’d seen the look on Wentz’s face when they had him run lines with the guy- seriously a guy who’d had a slightly pissy look on his face, but was pretty fucking great in the role- that was supposed to be playing his wife, though he ran out of the place screaming that he hadn’t made up his mind yet. Pete’s look was a good look. That was a look that said he’d played the part perfectly, that he was Wentz’s missing piece or some shit.
After the meeting that almost went to shit, Wentz had demanded a screen test on the spot. Frank would’ve been nervous, but he’d been going over lines with Gerard for weeks, fine tuning himself and making sure he had more than one facet to give.
Frank’s a performer. He got over stage fright years ago.
It hadn’t been official then even though Stump seemed to think he’d make a good fit. Wentz had grumbled and said they’d have to wait and see if he had any chemistry with Spencer.
The first thing Wentz did was make Spencer Smith come down to the studio for a read through and that’s when Frank had gotten the look.
That had been three days ago. Three days since Frank did the screen test and read through and he thinks Wentz is being a jerk for waiting this long, but they’ve got time before production starts and he has to make up his mind.
“You were pretty great in there,” Gerard says.
He feels Gerard’s arms wrapping around his waist, Gerard’s chest solid against his back and Frank smiles.
“I just wish I knew if I had the part,” Frank says.
“You’ve got the part. He’s gonna give it to you. He likes you. The way you handled that meeting… he’s going to give it to you, Frankie. He just wants to be stubborn about it.”
“Yeah, well, I get where he’s coming from, you know. He just wants to know that his vision is going to be protected,” Frank says.
“I’m sorry about Leathermouth,” Gerard whispers against his neck.
Frank flinches.
“It’s… I mean… I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Fair.”
And it is, fair. Because Frank went through months where all he wanted to do was talk about it, all he wanted to do was rail against it, rail against how unfuckingfair the whole thing had been and how Leathermouth came as close to being the band he’s always wanted for years.
He’s moved on.
“Do you think it was wrong of us to ask him to give you a part? And Mikey and Bob jobs?”
Frank sighs.
“Well considering it means I could be employed doing something new that I’ve wanted to do for awhile… come on, Gee, you can see how I’m a little biased here.”
“I know, but you have a different perspective. I mean if I am being a dick…”
“Bob’s right, okay. Bob’s right and Brian’s right and Ray’s right and that guy, Pete Wentz’s friend or handler or whatever, he’s right too. Any other company would be screwing him over royally and he’d have to take it. You’re just… asking for a few favors. There’s nothing wrong with that. He’s just reacting so strongly because he got screwed over before.”
“I know… I just…”
“You’re you so you feel bad.”
He feels Gerard smile against his neck.
“Was that even English, man?”
“Oh shut up. Look. I… you know I’m proud of you, right?”
“Frank.”
There’s something about the way his voice goes soft, the way Gerard says his name and he’s been with Gerard long enough, first as a friend trying to scrape Gerard up off the ground and help him get things running and then as something more, as Gerard’s partner. So he knows Gerard well enough to know what that tone means. He turns in Gerard’s arms and leans up to kiss him softly on the lips.
“I am.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You also know that this means I’m moving to Chicago. If I get this.’
“You know I’m coming with you.”
Frank makes a face.
“What, you don’t want me to?” Gerard asks, voice panicky.
“No, I’m just trying to imagine the look on Pete’s face when he finally realizes that we’re together.”
“You don’t think he has?”
“Well it’s not like we make out in the office.”
Gerard blinks a few times and Frank knows that Gerard can’t believe anyone wouldn’t know they were together.
“He’s kind of wrapped up in other stuff right now. I mean not that he doesn’t already expect a certain kind of favoritism. Mikey is your brother after all. Although I don’t think Mikey’s presence bothers him that much.”
Gerard frowns.
“You noticed that too.”
“It was like he was trying to take Mikey’s clothes off with his eyes.”
Gerard pulls a face.
“Yeah, well, I mean it doesn’t bother you that I threw my weight around to get you an audition. Because if you get the part, it’s totally because you deserve it and not because of anything else.”
He looks kind of distressed which Frank thinks is kind of funny, all things considered.
“That was throwing your weight around?”
“Frank,” Gerard says sharply.
Frank laughs.
“Yeah, no, dude, if I get this part it was totally because I was fucking awesome. And even if he had just folded and given me the part first day, I wouldn’t be upset. You know it’s not even like that.”
“Okay, I just… I wanted to make sure.”
“It’s going to be fine. FC Network will love the pilot and sign on for many, many episodes and it’ll be a hit and I’ll be a new star and we’ll buy some sort of creepy house that you can decorate all crazy and live happily ever after.”
“That’s your version of happily ever after?”
Frank smiles.
“Yeah, it’s pretty great, huh.”
Gerard smiles, wide and happy and he pulls Frank close.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s pretty great.”
Part 2