activism (badlands) wrote in wentzwalker,

Stranger [standalone]

Title: Stranger
Author: morelikerelapse
Pete Wentz/Jeanae White and Pete Wentz/Jon Walker
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jeanae is fed up with how Pete treats her and seeing him with Jon sends her over the edge.
Disclaimer: This isn't real.
A/N: This fic is pretty Jeanae centric, but there is no het sex or anything, however if you don't like to read about Jeanae, don't click on the cut.

    Jeanae wasn’t naïve. Young, yes, but she was smarter than a lot of people gave her credit for (including her boyfriend) but numbers trump intuition in this game and no one cares about life experiences here.

    No one would believe her when she said Pete wasn’t well in the head. She could form a running list of the incidents- pill mix and matching, punching walls and breaking car windows during fights, his sleeping habits or lack thereof and more- she could scream and shout it if she wanted to, but it wouldn’t do any good.

    Pete would treat her like she was the most important person in whatever room they were in when they’d go out. He’d hold her and show her off; Jeanae would smile when Pete told people she was “his girl.” He made sure everyone knew they were in love but now that was changing. Jeanae could notice the golden specks in his brown eyes turning from soft to cold. They were hard and mean when they’d look at her. No one believed her when she told people she trusted that Pete hid so much from her now.

    But, no, Jeanae was not naïve.

    She watched Pete, just a few small feet away from her in the humid club, the red tinted dance floor lights blurring the edges, watch him. It was so obvious to her. The way his eyes softened whenever he spoke the man’s name, the way he would always watch the man backstage, the way he would silently call out to be liberated whenever the man was near; she felt so stupid for not noticing it sooner. And then he was gone, following the man through the sea of people.

    Jon Walker.

    Jeanae’s breathing grew fast and her body was slowly overheating. She could feel the anger just swell inside of her. A balloon filled with hot air, dangerously close to popping. And she knew that she shouldn’t cause another scene, Pete would just use it against her. Another way to make her out to be the villain in the story of his life and people believed every word he said, hanging onto those fabricated words like they were the bible on tape. He’d say she was crazy. The girl was heartless and apathetic about everything, no good for him but there was something about her that he couldn’t let go is what he’d tell them and they’d buy every word. They never got to see her weak moments, the ones where she’d cover her face and cry herself to sleep over this boy or these moments, the ones where she was so close to killing him for letting him treat her like this. They wouldn’t believe her even if they did see them. She knew this but she couldn’t let Pete do this to her. Not again.

    She shoved her way through the people, stepping on feet and elbowing random stomachs on her way to Pete and Jon huddled in a corner. She grabbed Pete’s arm and pulled him away from Jon and Jon could see her yell at Pete, her expression so visibly upset but he couldn’t hear a thing. Like he was watching his television on mute with a CD playing in the background.

    Pete was grabbing at her arms, shaking his head, cupping her cheek, slouching down submissively, anything to get her to calm down but it didn’t work. As soon as it had started, the fight was over and Jeanae was storming her way out of the club, destroying her way through the people like a tornado. Pete didn’t follow her.


    The next morning, Jon woke in Pete’s bed with Pete still asleep next to him. He leaned over and grabbed Pete’s phone, searching through the contact list for Jeanae’s number. Once he found it, he quietly repeated it to himself a few times, committing it to his short-term memory.

    Jon gently got out of the bed so he wouldn’t wake Pete and tip-toed into the living room, dialing Jeanae’s number on his own phone. Jon sucked on his lip, putting the phone to his ear and paced back and forth a little as there was ringing on the other end. A soft voice was heard on the other end a few rings later, ‘hello?’ “Hi… um, is… is this Jeanae White?” It was. “This is Jon Walker,” he said quickly. One heart sank and another one beat faster.


    “…What more can I do for you, Jon?”

    “I don’t know,” Jon honestly responded and sat down on the couch. Jeanae noticed how nasally Jon sounded and wondered if he always did. “Last night? Was that fight you two had about me?”

    Jeanae shook her head a little. “No. You just happened to add to it.”

    “I don’t understand it…”

    “What’s there to not understand, Jon? Pete is so fucking,” there was a pause and then a quiet sigh. “He’s so into you. He wants to be with you, I can see it in his eyes- it’s so fucking obvious, too… him and I? We’re done. I’m not putting up with his shit anymore.”

    Another pause. “…Is there anything I can do for you, Jeanae?”

    “Did you notice we have the same initials, Jon Walker?” She seemingly randomly commented. Jon blinked, realizing it as well. “But no, Jon, there’s nothing you can do. Everyone is going to blame me for this and Pete will be blameless again but you know what? I’m just fine, my mom always told me I was a survivor and I know it’s true. I hope Pete is happy with you, you seem like a great guy,” she paused before hanging up. Maybe somewhere deep down, she actually meant it when she wished Pete happiness but not right now.

    Either way, right now she had to get ready for her shift at Banana Republic because her life didn’t stop for Pete Wentz.

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