1986

When you thought of "hair metal", you didn't think Pete Wentz. But somehow, someway, that tuft of short black spawned his way in the spotlight.

Pete was big. He was on the front of every record shop. His band's music was on the radio. He was on the new MTV. Girls pasted photos of him in their lockers, and if you didn't like long hair, he was the hair you pinned to the side of your mirror and replicated in hopes your crush would go for you.

Parents hated him and called him a Satan worshipper, and girls threw their panties on stage as he played. He was a full witted ROCKSTAR.

He was invincible. At the top. Touring with Van Halen in his band, Fall Out Boy, which is totally one of the metal greats now. He was partying. Living it up. Famous. And right now, he was talking to Motley Crue on a red carpet for fucking whatever. You wanted his autograph. But he was just talking casually to Motley Crue.

"Yeah, so I laid down some new tracks and that's how the song was made. It became a hit."