mwestbelle (
mwestbelle) wrote2008-12-14 01:12 am
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Entry tags:
fic: making it across the ocean
Making It Across the Ocean
PG-13 for language, Next-Gen
"I mean, every time [Bronx] looks at his hand, it's like he's Christopher Columbus making it across the ocean." --Pete Wentz
Mellon Collie was named by
perspexsea and
nokomis305, all characters within are of my own imagination.
Bronx manages to break away from the mobs of people who know his parents and want to ask him about high school and when he's going to start a band, and sneaks out through the backdoor of the venue to get some air. There's a girl out there, with a faintly worn-looking gray knit cap and blondish hair curling out from underneath it. She's skinny, and pretty in an angular kind of way, and he's spent enough time with the obnoxious Christmas card wreath his dad loves staring him in the face to know that it's Mellon Way. She's looking down at a book, leaning up against the brick wall of the venue, and he inherited his dad's teeth and social graces, and he doesn't know how to get her attention and ends up blurting, "Got a cigarette?"
She looks up, and her eyes are gray like her mom's and she arches her eyebrows at him. "I don't smoke."
"Neither do I." Bronx tries for a "haha, lets be friends" grin, and apparently it works at least half way, because she sticks her thumb in her book to hold her place.
"What're you doing out here?"
"My dad." Bronx shrugs, and it sounds kind of stupid now, but she's nodding.
"I get that." She reaches up with her free hand and swipes her thumb across her forehead, clearing wispy black bangs away from her eyes. "I'm Collie."
"I thought it was--" He cuts himself off, way to sound like a creeper, but she's rolling her eyes and nodding.
"Yeah, I know, but. Seriously, Mellon? Not that I don't appreciate the reference, but c'mon."
"Hey." Bronx holds up his hands. "I'm with you."
"You're Bronx Wentz," Collie says. It's not a question at all, so he doesn't say anything. That seems right, because after a moment of silence she says, "My dad and your dad fucked. How weird is that?"
Bronx doesn't like to think about his dad fucking anyone, not his mom and definitely not Mellon Collie Way's dad. He winces. "Um, fucking weird."
"But then, seems like my dad was kind of a slut." Collie fumbles in her bag--it has little cartoon dinosaurs and little cartoon robots holding hands and stomping on buildings together on it--for a bookmark, and tucks her book away. Bronx can't help wincing again, and Collie laughs. "Yeah, I know, right? Uncle Gee tells me all sorts of shit I'd rather not know. But my mom does too."
"And my dad," Bronx offers. "Uncle Joe is pretty bad too, but I think sometimes he just forgets that, you know. I'm Dad's kid."
"Uncle Gee believes in communication and shit. I think my mom is just being a bitch, though." It's something Bronx would never say about his own mom, not without risking her making her hurt face and his dad clomping him on the back of the head, but Collie's eyes are soft and affectionate and it sounds like a familiar sentiment.
The door opens again and Ray Toro pokes his head out. "Your dad's about to go on, Collie. Oh, hey. You're Pete's, right?" Bronx is used to that response, and he just nods. Ray grins. "Your dad is coming up too. Dueling basses, right? Don't want to miss that."
"Your dad is going lose," Collie informs him as soon as the door closes behind Ray, and Bronx shrugs.
"Not if they judge by, like, passion."
"Yeah." Collie seems to be considering this, then adjusts her bag over her shoulder and gives him a thoughtful look. "A bunch of us are going to kind of take over the hotel tonight. You should come hang out."
"Like who?" Bronx makes a face after he says it, and Collie frowns at him. "My dad is going to ask."
"Branwen, Jack, Pansy and Mina, maybe Alfie." Collie shrugs, reaching up to tug at the brim of her hat. Now that he's looked at it for a while, he's pretty sure he recognizes it from old pictures of their dads. "Just people. Chem kids, and whoever else wants to."
"Cool." Bronx nods. "That'd be cool, thanks."
Collie smiles, crooked and wide, and holds the door open for him on their way back in.
*
Bronx had known that there were a lot of "Chem kids," as Collie called them. There were even more than were here now, but shoved into one hotel room, it seems like an awful lot. It's mostly younger kids, all of the Ieros who all seem to be talking at once and a little Toro who is sitting quietly under a mop of curls and watching the whole thing. Collie pulls up the On-Demand menu on TV and starts the new animated Batman movie up. Alfie Iero is fourteen, old enough to hang out with them, but he doesn't like to swim, so he's staying with his mob of brothers and sisters while the older kids go down to the pool.
Collie finally slips out of the door, tucking a room key into her back pocket and rolling her eyes. Her hat is pushed up a little, showing the line of blonde before her bottle-black bangs. Bronx stands to the side of the hallway, not really knowing anyone beyond family photos and Christmas newsletters and old articles that his dad printed out. Collie doesn't seem to notice his discomfort, but the girl with purple hair and black cateye glasses with little rhinestones at the corners waves at him, pale fingers waggling.
"I'm Branwen. Hi." Branwen Ballato-Way, he recognizes her little pointy nose and generous mouth from photos of her parents together, and she nods to the other kids. "Jack, Pansy, and Mina."
Jack is tall, a little gawky, and his dad's hair seems to have skipped a generation to his little brother. He looks at the other two girls for a second and, as if reading his mind, the girl on the left, with silver rings all up her ear and black pigtails raises her hand. "Pansy." And the girl on the right, with truly unfortunately orange hair and rainbow colored eyeshadow does the same. "Mina."
"Hey." Bronx isn't sure whether to smile or not, because his full Wentzy smile has been known to frighten small children. But there aren't any small children, and he doesn't want to seem unfriendly, so he grins. "I'm Bronx."
Branwen smiles, pressing her glasses up her nose. "We know."
"Oh." Which isn't really surprising, but doesn't leave Bronx with much to say. He knows who they are, in the general sense, but nothing beyond the basics. Thankfully, Collie purses her lips and shrugs her slim shoulders.
"Pool, right? Let's get on that." She looks to the side as if thinking, and after a long pause adds, "Or in that. I guess."
They walk down, and Bronx is silent while Branwen pinches Jack, and Pansy thumbs approvingly at Collie's bangs, but he doesn't feel uncomfortable. He does a lot, especially around people he doesn't know, but all these kids...they're like him. Waving at the paparazzi is second nature to him now, and the Chem kids don't know so much about that, but they know living on the road and having one or both parents away on tour. It's nice.
He's kind of embarrassed to strip down to Clan swim trunks, but he's been branded since he was in little bear-suit onesies and it's second nature to him now. He worries that they might look at him and just see another bebartskulled brand whore, which he kind of is, but it doesn't matter because Mina grins and shoots him a thumbs up. "Nice."
The thing about Pansy and Mina is...Pansy and Mina are just awfully pretty, and not in the LA kind of way. They're both short, kind of soft, but with big gorgeous eyes. Not that Branwen and Collie aren't really fucking cute in vintage-style one piece suits, and even Jack is clearly going to grow into his face and height and be pretty hot. But Mina is wearing a two-piece, a little skirt and tank-top with brightly colored stripes, and Bronx wants to put his hand right on the soft curve of her hip.
She won't go under the water, because she doesn't want to mess up her make-up, so Bronx dunks her from behind. She comes up wet and spluttering, color bleeding down her face like she's crying the rainbow, and turns around and puts all her weight into pushing him under. It shouldn't be surprising, after spending all his seventeen years watching his mom and dad interact, but it turns out he likes that in a woman.
*
Three days later, over breakfast, Bronx tells his parents about how Carmina Iero likes to cook, secretly loves her name but goes by a nickname because Pansy hates hers (Fiorella) so much, hates gory movies, can't sleep without at least two dogs in bed with her, is allergic to penicillin, and is going to be a Skeleton Crew merch girl officially this summer (she also asked him if he wanted to come with, sleep in the van with her and hang out in shitty backlots, but he doesn't tell them that). When he tells them that he's in love with her, his dad drops his spoon.
"What about Katie?" Bronx groans and his dad picks his spoon up again just so he can point it at him. "Come on, man, you know how the plan. The universe cruelly denied me and Patrick wombs, which means we have to breed our offspring to create the perfect Stump-Wentz hybrid that will be like, a super human music machine of sweetness. Isn't that right, honeybee?"
His mom has heard this even more often than Bronx has and just keeps eating her Special K. "Bronx has plenty of time to breed when he's older, baby. He can be in love with Carmina if he wants to be."
His dad grumbles about that, one of his usual vague threats about how if Bronx can't fulfill his role as Wentz heir, it's perfectly easy to make a new Wentzbaby. Bronx knows that it's an empty threat--his mom told him that she had enough sibling rivalry to last her for a lifetime and she's not putting her own kid through that.
It's not that he doesn't like Katie--she's awesome, and pretty much Uncle Patrick except with boobs (they're nice boobs too--he touched them once, while they kissed furtively outside the studio door while their dads were fighting over a chord change)--but he's pretty sure she has a giant crush on Dulcita Saporta. He won't tell his dad that, though. He's always saying that if Bronx didn't want to have perfect redheaded babies of musical triumph with Katie, he could at least have the decency to like dudes.
While he's booting up his laptop after breakfast, he gets a series of texts from Mina.
Told dad about u
i think hes ok
but hes halfway thru a loaf of garlic braed
so hes prety mellow
He grins and texts back, my dad wants me to have babies with katiestump, so i guess you win
It only takes about two minutes before his phone buzzes again.
thats cool. ur bbs would be cute ;P can i be godmom
Carmina Iero, Bronx thinks, is a pretty fucking awesome girl.
PG-13 for language, Next-Gen
"I mean, every time [Bronx] looks at his hand, it's like he's Christopher Columbus making it across the ocean." --Pete Wentz
Mellon Collie was named by
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Bronx manages to break away from the mobs of people who know his parents and want to ask him about high school and when he's going to start a band, and sneaks out through the backdoor of the venue to get some air. There's a girl out there, with a faintly worn-looking gray knit cap and blondish hair curling out from underneath it. She's skinny, and pretty in an angular kind of way, and he's spent enough time with the obnoxious Christmas card wreath his dad loves staring him in the face to know that it's Mellon Way. She's looking down at a book, leaning up against the brick wall of the venue, and he inherited his dad's teeth and social graces, and he doesn't know how to get her attention and ends up blurting, "Got a cigarette?"
She looks up, and her eyes are gray like her mom's and she arches her eyebrows at him. "I don't smoke."
"Neither do I." Bronx tries for a "haha, lets be friends" grin, and apparently it works at least half way, because she sticks her thumb in her book to hold her place.
"What're you doing out here?"
"My dad." Bronx shrugs, and it sounds kind of stupid now, but she's nodding.
"I get that." She reaches up with her free hand and swipes her thumb across her forehead, clearing wispy black bangs away from her eyes. "I'm Collie."
"I thought it was--" He cuts himself off, way to sound like a creeper, but she's rolling her eyes and nodding.
"Yeah, I know, but. Seriously, Mellon? Not that I don't appreciate the reference, but c'mon."
"Hey." Bronx holds up his hands. "I'm with you."
"You're Bronx Wentz," Collie says. It's not a question at all, so he doesn't say anything. That seems right, because after a moment of silence she says, "My dad and your dad fucked. How weird is that?"
Bronx doesn't like to think about his dad fucking anyone, not his mom and definitely not Mellon Collie Way's dad. He winces. "Um, fucking weird."
"But then, seems like my dad was kind of a slut." Collie fumbles in her bag--it has little cartoon dinosaurs and little cartoon robots holding hands and stomping on buildings together on it--for a bookmark, and tucks her book away. Bronx can't help wincing again, and Collie laughs. "Yeah, I know, right? Uncle Gee tells me all sorts of shit I'd rather not know. But my mom does too."
"And my dad," Bronx offers. "Uncle Joe is pretty bad too, but I think sometimes he just forgets that, you know. I'm Dad's kid."
"Uncle Gee believes in communication and shit. I think my mom is just being a bitch, though." It's something Bronx would never say about his own mom, not without risking her making her hurt face and his dad clomping him on the back of the head, but Collie's eyes are soft and affectionate and it sounds like a familiar sentiment.
The door opens again and Ray Toro pokes his head out. "Your dad's about to go on, Collie. Oh, hey. You're Pete's, right?" Bronx is used to that response, and he just nods. Ray grins. "Your dad is coming up too. Dueling basses, right? Don't want to miss that."
"Your dad is going lose," Collie informs him as soon as the door closes behind Ray, and Bronx shrugs.
"Not if they judge by, like, passion."
"Yeah." Collie seems to be considering this, then adjusts her bag over her shoulder and gives him a thoughtful look. "A bunch of us are going to kind of take over the hotel tonight. You should come hang out."
"Like who?" Bronx makes a face after he says it, and Collie frowns at him. "My dad is going to ask."
"Branwen, Jack, Pansy and Mina, maybe Alfie." Collie shrugs, reaching up to tug at the brim of her hat. Now that he's looked at it for a while, he's pretty sure he recognizes it from old pictures of their dads. "Just people. Chem kids, and whoever else wants to."
"Cool." Bronx nods. "That'd be cool, thanks."
Collie smiles, crooked and wide, and holds the door open for him on their way back in.
*
Bronx had known that there were a lot of "Chem kids," as Collie called them. There were even more than were here now, but shoved into one hotel room, it seems like an awful lot. It's mostly younger kids, all of the Ieros who all seem to be talking at once and a little Toro who is sitting quietly under a mop of curls and watching the whole thing. Collie pulls up the On-Demand menu on TV and starts the new animated Batman movie up. Alfie Iero is fourteen, old enough to hang out with them, but he doesn't like to swim, so he's staying with his mob of brothers and sisters while the older kids go down to the pool.
Collie finally slips out of the door, tucking a room key into her back pocket and rolling her eyes. Her hat is pushed up a little, showing the line of blonde before her bottle-black bangs. Bronx stands to the side of the hallway, not really knowing anyone beyond family photos and Christmas newsletters and old articles that his dad printed out. Collie doesn't seem to notice his discomfort, but the girl with purple hair and black cateye glasses with little rhinestones at the corners waves at him, pale fingers waggling.
"I'm Branwen. Hi." Branwen Ballato-Way, he recognizes her little pointy nose and generous mouth from photos of her parents together, and she nods to the other kids. "Jack, Pansy, and Mina."
Jack is tall, a little gawky, and his dad's hair seems to have skipped a generation to his little brother. He looks at the other two girls for a second and, as if reading his mind, the girl on the left, with silver rings all up her ear and black pigtails raises her hand. "Pansy." And the girl on the right, with truly unfortunately orange hair and rainbow colored eyeshadow does the same. "Mina."
"Hey." Bronx isn't sure whether to smile or not, because his full Wentzy smile has been known to frighten small children. But there aren't any small children, and he doesn't want to seem unfriendly, so he grins. "I'm Bronx."
Branwen smiles, pressing her glasses up her nose. "We know."
"Oh." Which isn't really surprising, but doesn't leave Bronx with much to say. He knows who they are, in the general sense, but nothing beyond the basics. Thankfully, Collie purses her lips and shrugs her slim shoulders.
"Pool, right? Let's get on that." She looks to the side as if thinking, and after a long pause adds, "Or in that. I guess."
They walk down, and Bronx is silent while Branwen pinches Jack, and Pansy thumbs approvingly at Collie's bangs, but he doesn't feel uncomfortable. He does a lot, especially around people he doesn't know, but all these kids...they're like him. Waving at the paparazzi is second nature to him now, and the Chem kids don't know so much about that, but they know living on the road and having one or both parents away on tour. It's nice.
He's kind of embarrassed to strip down to Clan swim trunks, but he's been branded since he was in little bear-suit onesies and it's second nature to him now. He worries that they might look at him and just see another bebartskulled brand whore, which he kind of is, but it doesn't matter because Mina grins and shoots him a thumbs up. "Nice."
The thing about Pansy and Mina is...Pansy and Mina are just awfully pretty, and not in the LA kind of way. They're both short, kind of soft, but with big gorgeous eyes. Not that Branwen and Collie aren't really fucking cute in vintage-style one piece suits, and even Jack is clearly going to grow into his face and height and be pretty hot. But Mina is wearing a two-piece, a little skirt and tank-top with brightly colored stripes, and Bronx wants to put his hand right on the soft curve of her hip.
She won't go under the water, because she doesn't want to mess up her make-up, so Bronx dunks her from behind. She comes up wet and spluttering, color bleeding down her face like she's crying the rainbow, and turns around and puts all her weight into pushing him under. It shouldn't be surprising, after spending all his seventeen years watching his mom and dad interact, but it turns out he likes that in a woman.
*
Three days later, over breakfast, Bronx tells his parents about how Carmina Iero likes to cook, secretly loves her name but goes by a nickname because Pansy hates hers (Fiorella) so much, hates gory movies, can't sleep without at least two dogs in bed with her, is allergic to penicillin, and is going to be a Skeleton Crew merch girl officially this summer (she also asked him if he wanted to come with, sleep in the van with her and hang out in shitty backlots, but he doesn't tell them that). When he tells them that he's in love with her, his dad drops his spoon.
"What about Katie?" Bronx groans and his dad picks his spoon up again just so he can point it at him. "Come on, man, you know how the plan. The universe cruelly denied me and Patrick wombs, which means we have to breed our offspring to create the perfect Stump-Wentz hybrid that will be like, a super human music machine of sweetness. Isn't that right, honeybee?"
His mom has heard this even more often than Bronx has and just keeps eating her Special K. "Bronx has plenty of time to breed when he's older, baby. He can be in love with Carmina if he wants to be."
His dad grumbles about that, one of his usual vague threats about how if Bronx can't fulfill his role as Wentz heir, it's perfectly easy to make a new Wentzbaby. Bronx knows that it's an empty threat--his mom told him that she had enough sibling rivalry to last her for a lifetime and she's not putting her own kid through that.
It's not that he doesn't like Katie--she's awesome, and pretty much Uncle Patrick except with boobs (they're nice boobs too--he touched them once, while they kissed furtively outside the studio door while their dads were fighting over a chord change)--but he's pretty sure she has a giant crush on Dulcita Saporta. He won't tell his dad that, though. He's always saying that if Bronx didn't want to have perfect redheaded babies of musical triumph with Katie, he could at least have the decency to like dudes.
While he's booting up his laptop after breakfast, he gets a series of texts from Mina.
Told dad about u
i think hes ok
but hes halfway thru a loaf of garlic braed
so hes prety mellow
He grins and texts back, my dad wants me to have babies with katiestump, so i guess you win
It only takes about two minutes before his phone buzzes again.
thats cool. ur bbs would be cute ;P can i be godmom
Carmina Iero, Bronx thinks, is a pretty fucking awesome girl.
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Oh man. Is this a one-shot or an ongoing thing? Because I could so read more about these kids.
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I'd like it to be ongoing...there's just so many awkward and awesome stories to tell!
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more would be awesome!
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Planning on it!
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He's always saying that if Bronx didn't want to have perfect redheaded babies of musical triumph with Katie, he could at least have the decency to like dudes.
LOL LOL LOL Fantastic!
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XD Pete needs his redheaded babies or some cred, okay?
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This is so cute I could die. Mellon Collie Way!
(PS - We have tons of friends in common and you seem awesome, I'm going to add you, if that's okay?)
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I'm glad!
(Awesomesauce \o/ added back)
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It's beyond understanding...
this is a lovely piece of next gen fic - I love it, and have the biggest hope that every thing is this congenial for the babies...
Regardless- this fic is brill. I love it. and I love your brain.
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Thank you!
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I'm planning to write more over my winter break :)
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Oh, PETE.
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Pete has his dreams!
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OMG, ILTHIS!
so, so awesome.
♥♥♥
moar. ?.
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I'm hoping to get more over break
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Is there more????
Or are there going to be more???
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This is brilliant!
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Thank you!
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