A/N: Guys, I am sadly heartbroken. My black advances are unreciprocated by my proof-reader. I'll never write again.

That's a joke, by the way. Can you feel my intense sarcasm, even through the screen?

So without any further distractions, I now give you: the long awaited happy conclusion to this train wreck. I was going to wait a full week to post it, but… I'm not completely heartless in there, okay?

"And you're sure that there's no way to back out of this?"

"Not unless you have a secret twin or a body double or something that can keep John from noticing that you're missing from the most important day of his life."

"So, basically, there's not?"

"Of course not."

Your name is Karkat Vantas. You are 24 years old, but you are only 5'5" and you weigh about 125 pounds soaking wet. You are employed as a substitute English teacher at a high school three states away. Why, exactly, are you out of state, one may ask? To attend the event that you're currently trying to weasel out of, of course. Terezi isn't making it easy for you, though. You just had to RSVP a yes while half-asleep, didn't you?

You groan lowly, rubbing your temples as you spare a glance at your platonic date out of the corner of your eye. "I'm pretty sure that John has enough moral support without me gluing myself to the wall and catering table like the antisocial asshole I am." You tell her, annoyance working it's way into your voice. You two have been going on about this for almost three hours now, and she's still as patient with you as always.

It would be nice if you could fall in love with her, or vise versa, but sadly, it's not to be. You only see her as a friend or big sister now, and she's not really looking for a matesprit. She says that her moirallegiance with Vriska supplies more than enough emotional fulfillment, and there's no reason to not believe that. You're just glad that she finally got over her black crush on John. If he was a troll, the multiple datemates thing wouldn't be a problem. However, humans tend to be less open to "sharing" and you seriously doubt that Roxy would be okay with that, no matter the circumstances. So, kudos to Vriska for talking some sense into her.

"Karkat, you're his best friend." Terezi says for the umptenth time. Her brows are drawn together in slight frustration, and her sightless eyes are somehow locked on you. "Today he is getting married. What in the fuck is so bad that you want to skip something like that?"

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, looking away. She knows why. But you're not going to give her the satisfaction of hearing you say it. You haven't seen him or heard from him in seven years, but you just know that he's going to attend his best friend's wedding.

Dave is going to be there, and you don't think that you're ready for that.

Maybe you never will be. Because you fell for him seven years ago. You fell hard, and put your trust in him to catch you and he didn't. You know that it's not his fault that he had to leave, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. You loved him so much that you couldn't think about anything else for almost two weeks. And the worst part is that you still do. You still love him, and it makes you sick. How sad is it that you're still hung up over your high school sweetheart seven years later? It's even worse when you consider what kind of relationship you actually had with Dave. You shouldn't have fallen in love, but you did, and he didn't.

You wonder if he's bringing a girl to the wedding. You assume that it's a girl because girls have always been his type. He never did tell you why he suggested the game in the first place, but then again, you never told him that you love him.

"Terezi, you know that-" You go to say, and she slaps a hand over your mouth. It's the non-pale way of shushing you, which you much prefer. If Kanaya wasn't exclusively interested in women, she could easily be your moirail, but sadly, she's about as far on the homo side of the sexuality spectrum as a troll can be. At least she finally gave up on Vriska. You don't see that pale relationship ever working out, even ignoring the fact that she has a moirail currently.

Glaring at you, Terezi nods her head towards the window of the taxi. "Shut up. We're slowing down. So put your face back on, Karkat. You can break down about your pathetic love life and shovel ice cream into your mouth when we get back to the hotel, but for now, we have a wedding to attend and pretend to enjoy." She says all of this quickly, and by the time she's finished, the taxi has come to a complete stop.

You wanted to get a limo or something nicer to take you and her, but with you living off of a teacher's salary, and Terezi still in law school, that clearly wasn't going to happen. It was nice to think about, though.

Still, while Terezi's words are somewhat harsh, that doesn't make her any less right. She's always right, which is one of the reasons why you hate arguing with her. You have to make sure that John's special day goes exactly as it should, which means that you can't have a meltdown during the ceremony and flip tables while you spaz your way out the door. As tempting as it sounds. But this wedding is also about one other thing.

You're going to show Dave that you're perfectly happy without him.

That's not at all true, but does he need to know that? Nope. You doubt that he would care, anyway. Back in high school, you were just a game to him. He's probably attending with a girl that actually means something to him.

The thought makes your throat tight, but you swallow your emotions, and push open the taxi door. Like the gentleman you are, you offer Terezi your hand and help her out. You also hand over her walking stick, and she thanks you by "accidentally" nailing you in the shin with it. Sometimes you forget what an asshole Terezi is. All of your friends kind of are, actually. Maybe you should rethink your social group.

You walk beside her, hands in your pockets, as you help her into the wedding hall. The good news is that, when it comes to Terezi, "helping" just means that you have to tell her where the stairs are so that she can feel for them instead of tripping and landing flat on her face. And the thought is seriously appealing, but you don't want to ruin her dress. Not because you like it or anything. It's rather simple - knee-length and a dark shade of teal with black accents, but it's a rental. She would kill you, and then bring you back to life just so that you could pay for the dress and kill you again for shits and giggles. Luckily, you aren't stupid enough to ruin her dress, and the two of you make it inside the building without a hitch.

"I'm going to sniff around for a bit, Karkat." Terezi tells you as soon as you step inside, and you grunt in acknowledgement before she untangles herself from your presence and heads deeper into the room. You aren't really paying attention to her anymore. You're scanning the greeting hall for Dave. You don't see him anywhere - not even after searching twice - and that makes you feel even stupider when you remember why he's not in attendance. He's John's best man, and the younger brother of the bride. He's no doubt in the dressing rooms, making sure that they're both ready to do this thing.

Well, that's an instant relief to you. That means you have some time to calm down before you see him. Of course, you quickly realize that the alcohol is under lock and key until after the ceremony, and you curse softly when a quick pat of your pockets reveals that you left your anxiety pills at the hotel. Great.

You also happen to see an older human that looks disturbingly like Dave wrapped in the embrace of a woman who looks so much like Roxy that you're scared for a second. But no, it's just their parents. Of course they'd be at their daughter's wedding. You promptly put yourself as far away from them as the room will allow.

You are so fucked.

You and the other guests are soon told to take your assigned seats. You've been to a wedding before - Kankri's and Cronus' actually (marriage isn't generally a troll thing, but Cronus had insisted) - and you know that your seat is set directly in front of where the best man will stand. Dave probably did that on purpose. To taunt you. He hasn't changed a bit.

Everyone gets in their positions. The bridesmaids, the ring bearer, the groom, the best man, and other people that you are choosing to ignore. John looks nervous, but also happy. The happiest you've ever seen him, as a matter of fact. And you really are happy for him. Even if Dave's presence up front makes it hard to focus on much else.

Somehow, as the ceremony drags on and on and on, you manage to keep your eyes off of Dave. Not the whole time. You steal little glances at him when you are completely, 100% certain that he's not looking at you. He looks different, you quickly realize. He's grown a few inches, and you notice more muscle tone than you remember, even with his thick suit jacket on. He's still pale, and his hair is still that obnoxious blonde-white color, though. The freckles dotting his cheeks aren't visible from where you're sitting, but you hope that they're still there. You always thought that freckles were cute. Not that Dave is cute at all- actually, why are you even bothering? You think he's adorable. It's pretty fucking obvious.

You stand up with the rest of the crowd when John and Roxy finish their "I do"s and kiss, clapping with enough enthusiasm to at least not stand out. You lag a little behind though, your movements slow and heavy as Dave lingers just out of the corner of your eye.

You think for a fleeting moment that he's looking back at you, but whether that thought is actual observation skills or your own repressed desires, you aren't sure.

The events following pass by in a blur - posing for pictures, socializing, Dave far too close for comfort, more pictures, yet more socializing, so many congratulations that you want to erase the word from history - and if you don't remember something, it's probably because your traumatized mind blocked it out.

But at the reception, things finally calm down. You're not sure where you are now - just that it's big and far too fancy and definitely not the wedding hall.

Soft piano music wafts out the open balcony doors, dancing through your mind and urging you to just let go for once and have some fun. If only that was something you could do. Instead, you block it out, holding your head in your hands and staring out over the city beneath you. You're - what? - four floors up? So it's not the highest view, but it's still nice. You enjoy it, at least.

"Hey." Dave's voice attracts your attention, and you look over at him. He's leaning against the door frame like the cool kid he is. Funny. You hadn't heard him approach.

You can feel your heart rate spiking at his presence, but you feel oddly disconnected from it. It's not effecting you. "Hey." You say back, turning to face him fully. Maybe you shouldn't have substituted your anxiety pills with hard liquor. Didn't you once promise yourself that you wouldn't use alcohol as an escape? It's odd that Dave seems to be the only exception for the promises you make to yourself. You didn't really have that much, anyway. Two or three shots, you think. Enough to get you tipsy and relaxed, but not out-of-your-mind drunk. You're not irresponsible.

Dave walks over to stand next to you, leaning against the balcony and studying the view like you were just a second ago. You're studying the view, too. A different kind of view though. You… never noticed what a nice ass Dave has. Okay, that's a lie. You always noticed, but he never bent over in front of you. And he was never so close yet so unattainable. And you were never drunk. You're still sober enough to make good choices though, so you stick your hands in your pockets instead of finding out if Dave's ass is as firm as it looks, like you are still sorely tempted to do. You drag your gaze up, taking in the curve of his back and the hardened muscles from training all the time. God damn, why did you ever let Dave go? Your eyes are focused on his face now, and you do your best to memorize the sight. The freckles dotting his nose and cheeks, the careful lines of his jaw, and how soft and kissable his lips look, parted just slightly as he breathes. For all you know, this might be the last time you see him.

Dave looks over at you then, and you do your best to pretend as if you weren't just staring. Not that he buys your act even a little bit. "Karkat." He speaks up suddenly, giving you his best attempt at a good conversation starter. He could have done better. "Small talk isn't really my thing, but, uh, how's your mom?" He tilts his head to the side. "And your brother. Kankri, right? Heard from John that he got married."

"Yeah." You sigh a little, happy for the distraction. "Kankri is doing great. About as happy as I've ever seen him. And my mom is good." And by "good" you mean "furious" obviously. She never quite forgave Dave for breaking your heart. She always had a list of ways you could have made it work. Video chat. Texting. Visiting - surely Dave was rich enough to afford that? And every time, you would run out of excuses. Eventually, you found yourself agreeing with her. Dave only left you behind because he didn't love you and the move was convenient for him. You don't know why you ever thought otherwise. Rose and Kanaya made it work. Those two can do anything they put their minds to. "Those movies turned out terrible, by the way." You add after a moment, turning to topic to him. "The first two were good, but the three after that completely ruined the tone of the films."

He snorts, chuckling a little. "I'm surprised you watched them." He confesses. "I wouldn't've. Fuck, I was actually in them, and even I didn't like it. Not so much because of the movie itself, but because of, uh," you think he shoots a glance in your direction, but you can't be sure, "personal reasons."

You just nod, sober enough to notice that he's avoiding giving you a direct answer, but drunk enough to not care. You don't reply, and he doesn't give you a new topic. You both fall silent, looking out over the view. Inside, the piano music has picked up the tempo, now with violins. You never pictured Roxy as the type to enjoy a classy wedding reception, but both she and John wanted the traditional white-tie style ceremony. Go figure.

"Do you… ever think about moments like this?" Dave asks casually. You go to ask what he means, but he continues before you can. "And what I mean is - moments when there's nothing but you and the distance to the ground." He looks down over the ledge, watching the cars fly by well over the speed limit.

You nod a little, not bothering to lie. "All the time. But I'd never do it. It's just a nice thought sometimes - as a distraction." You know that Dave is talking about suicide. You always got the feeling that he was never really happy with life, but you never got why. Doesn't he have everything he wants?

Humming a little in thought, Dave pushes away from the railing, avoiding your gaze. "Can I try something? And have you promise not to get mad?"

Again, you nod. You don't have anything to lose, after all. "But for the record, if you try to jump, I'm going to pull your ass back down here and staple you to the wall." You tell him flatly. The day you let Dave jump is the day you follow him down.

This makes Dave laugh, and he steps a little closer, putting a hand on your cheek. "I promise I won't, okay?" He grins, and then his lips are against yours and nothing else matters.

You instantly press closer, your arms going around his shoulders as you kiss him deeply, running your hands through his hair. God, he feels exactly how you remember, even after all these years, and you moan softly against his lips. Dave takes the hint, pressing you up against the balcony railing as his hands go to your waist and his tongue brushes past your lips slowly - giving you plenty of time to push him away or tell him no.

The only problem is - you don't want to.

You grip his tie with one hand, giving a little tug to pull him closer still - your way of letting him know how impatient you're getting. He tastes like lime and vodka and mint gum, an unpleasant combination, but you couldn't care less. The only thing you're concerned with is how close you can get him before you start breaking public indecency laws.

When the two of you finally part, you're not entirely sure why. Your head is spinning, and so is everything else. You just want to kiss the boy you've been thinking about for seven long, lonely years, and he seems to feel the same way, so why are you stopping?

"Karkat, I- I can't." He says, face creased into a frown. "You're drunk - I can taste it. This isn't right. You're not thinking clearly."

You blink. "You're drunk, too." You can taste it - even if it was only one shot.

He sighs, pushing you away and taking a step back. "I know." He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking tired and weary. "And that's how I know we shouldn't do this. Neither of us is thinking clearly. Just like we weren't back then…" You hear a pang of regret in his voice, and your expression cracks.

"Do you regret being an us?" You ask, voice heavy with emotion. Sober, you wouldn't be brave enough to ask. But it seems as though tonight, you're completely throwing away your old personality. You know you're not in your right mind, but neither is Dave, so maybe he'll finally give you a direct answer.

Dave shakes his head rapidly, looking almost appalled at the thought. "Fuck no!" He shouts, his expression twisting into a grimace. "Asking you out was one of the best decisions I ever made."

He's clearly forgetting himself. "Dave," You sigh, "you didn't ask me out. You asked me to play a sick and twisted game that destroyed everything I thought I understood about love, and you won. Okay? You won seven years ago, and I just… never told you." You sigh, trailing off.

It feels good to finally have that off of your chest. He knows. Seven years of carrying that has made you tired, but you feel so much more awake now. You should have told him ages ago. Maybe that was why you couldn't move on? You don't really think it matters. All that's left to do is wait for his inevitable rejection.

But Dave was never very good at following guidelines, and what he says next completely wrecks your perception of him.

He winces, biting his lip as he looks away. "Actually, Karkat…" He begins softly, "you win. You won nine years ago, the moment I saw you that first day in class. Remember that?" Dave chuckles dryly at the memory. "I saw you, dripping wet and more pissed than I've ever seen anyone in my entire life, and I fell in love with the fire in your eyes."

You flush a dark red, at a loss for words as you try to figure out what to say. Fuck. You didn't know he was capable of pulling that poetic shit on you. "B-B-But-" You sputter, and just barely keep yourself from cringing, "you were a complete asshole towards me! You picked on me, and pulled pranks on me, and always said passive-aggressive things to put me down." Your expression cracks. "Why- why would you do that?"

Dave laughs again, louder this time, and sighs almost fondly as he looks back towards you. "I tried being nice. Or did you forget? For the first week after the incident with the bucket, I tried to be your friend. Maybe ask you out once you stopped being so aggressive. That didn't happen, though. You shot me down every time, or just flat out ignored me."

Oh.

Oh.

You do remember that, actually. A suppressed memory, you suppose. Dave tried to be friendly or talk to you, and you would either ignore him or reply with such sarcasm that he was forced to leave you alone. You were just so pissed at him for the bucket thing, which you're now just realizing he never apologized for. God, how could you forget?

"So," Dave continues, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I started picking on you. It was better than you ignoring me. That way, you gave me your undivided attention. You looked at me, and talked to me, and you looked so alive when you were angry. It was the only solution I could think of to catch your eye. And I'm sorry." He mutters this last bit, and you almost miss it. "I tried dating other people who were as different from you as possible, but it didn't work. Sorry for being such a dick and bullying you into a relationship. I was young and immature and tired of being lovesick, so I'm sorry." He sighs. "And I wanted to keep in touch when I left. Or just sneak you into my suitcase and bring you with me. But I figured you were better off without me in your life. If I was gone, you could move on and get over it and find someone you actually want to date. So, I'll say it one last time, or however many more times it takes for you to believe me." His expression grows serious. "I am sorry."

Dave has always had the ability to render you speechless, but this is something else entirely. He pushes his shades up to rest on top of his head, rubbing his eyes wearily before looking at you almost sadly. He looks much older this way. The laugh lines, the bags under his eyes, the heaviness in the set of his expression that makes him seem years ahead of his time. "I'll leave, if you want me to." His voice is quiet, and you pick up a hint in his words. You think he wants you to make him leave. For you to hate him. Call him every name in the book and vow to never cross paths again.

But apparently, you're not good at following guidelines, either.

Instead, you step closer, taking his hand in yours gently. He winces - like your touch burns - but doesn't pull away. You can't see his eyes since they're closed, but you don't need to in order to understand how helpless Dave feels right now. "I don't want you to go." You tell him, voice so soft that you can barely hear it yourself. "Not again." Never again, you want to add, but you don't want to come on too strong so soon and scare him off. Not after Dave finally poured his soul out to you.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, his body actually shaking as he does, and he nods, opening his eyes. "Okay." Dave agrees, just as quiet. There's a moment where neither of you speak, both simply staring at the other, before Dave continues. "Can I tell you something?" He asks hesitantly, reaching up to cup your cheek. You love the tenderness of his touch. You missed his warmth so badly, and you hadn't even realized it until he was so close.

You start to nod, then frown, reaching up to push a strand of blond hair out of his face. "Sure." You say, not daring to blink as you stare into his red eyes. They captivate you, nearly glowing in the dim light of the balcony. It's incredible and so like that moment forever ago in his darkroom. You think about that everyday. You were never closer to Dave than you were right that minute with all of his walls crumbled to dust.

As Dave begins to speak, your gaze drops down to his lips. You watch him try to form words, then backpedal and try again, and you watch him stumble over sounds and miss others entirely until, finally, he just sighs and decides to keep it simple.

And he says it.

Three words - the ones you thought he would only tell you in your dreams.

You don't hear him - deafened by the sound of your heart pounding out of your chest. Your vision glows cloudy. You can't breathe. Can't think properly anymore. You're so angry with him. So blindingly furious that you can't stand it. How dare he. How dare he just… disarm you like that! You're drowning with the desire to sink your claws into his chest for breaking you down, but all you manage is curling your hands into fists by your sides as you shake softly. Things like this aren't supposed to happen to you. They only happen in movies and books - to passionate partners, and princess who get swept off their feet, and people who actually deserve it. Not to people who are as painfully dull and unremarkable as you.

Your anger disappears all at once, leaving you empty. You're still shaking, and you don't realize you're crying until Dave wipes your tears away. They tell him that you're not ready for this. For him. And instead, he's whispering that he's sorry for how he acted, and how he should have made sure you were ready before saying that, and how he loves you so fucking much that he can't stand it.

You just let him hold you, not objecting as he crushes you against his chest. You're starting to lose track of where he ends and you begin. Does it matter? You want to be closer. You want to lean on him and just forget the burden of emotions and lose yourself in Dave.

You've never felt so sober in all your life. It's like you were never really living until you met him. Maybe the fairy tales about love aren't so over exaggerated after all.

When Dave tells you that he's taking you back to your hotel room, you don't object. All of the guests are staying in the same place, so you don't bother asking how he knows where to go. You just pass him your room key when he asks and let him lead you out. Scenery passes in a blur through the car window. Dave doesn't talk. He simply lets you lean against him, his arm wrapped snuggly around your waist. You can't complain. When was the last time he held you this way? You don't remember, just that you missed it so, so much.

When you arrive at your hotel room, he sets you on the bed and you take it upon yourself to get your clothes off. You don't need him to help you with that, too. Your tie finds a home on the ground by your shoes and socks, your formal jacket and stuffy shirt soon following. You kick off your pants, and Dave gives you a funny look. But you go no further, and clad in nothing but your boxers, bury your face in a pillow and makes yourself comfortable beneath the covers. Dave hesitates - not sure what to do - and you pull him down next to you. Because you'd have to be the biggest fucking fool on the planet to let him go a second time.

His arms go around your waist like they belong there, and your face pressed against the crook of his neck feels like interlocking puzzle pieces. All of it is so cheesy. But you don't think that makes it any less meaningful, and you're smiling when you finally drift off to sleep.

When you awake in the morning, Dave isn't there. You panic for a moment - fuck he didn't leave, did he? - before the dim whir of the microwave catches your attention.

"Hey." Dave waves a little when he sees that you're awake, one hand holding a plate of shitty hotel food and the other opening the microwave when those obnoxious beeps start going off. "Hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of getting you some food while you were out like a fucking light." He pulls a cup from the microwave, closing it once more before leaning against the counter. Your eyes are still blurry from sleep, and Dave is a little far away, but nonetheless, you still see a smirk working across his face as he takes a sip from his cup. "You can't handle your alcohol at all, dude." He laughs as he sets the cup down. "Seriously. Have you ever had anything to drink before tonight? Ever?"

You don't respond. You're beginning to think that you cry too much when it comes to Dave.

The red tears slip down your cheeks soundlessly, and you see Dave tense as all amusement vanishes from his expression. Shit, why do you always do this? You're surprised that Dave isn't sick of your shit yet, because despite everything, he still drops what he's doing and hurries over to you. You don't deserve him. You'll never deserve someone like Dave, but fuck it all if you don't want the attention anyway. You've never claimed to not be a selfish person.

"Karkat, shit, what's wrong?" Dave murmurs, his voice anxious as he cups your face and brushes your tears away. Your head pounds dimly just behind your eyes, but you somehow remember last night perfectly. Everything Dave said to you. Seven years after he really should have. So you see no reason why you can't do the same.

You push his hands away, instead latching into his shirt and burying your face in his chest. You're shaking softly, but he doesn't seem to mind as he wraps you in a hug with no hesitation. "Dave." You hiccup, pulling him closer so that he's more or less on top of you. "Dave, I'm sorry, I just- I missed you so fucking much-" Your voice cracks, and you have to pause. It's a little hard to breathe, cry, talk, and press your face into Dave's chest at the same time, but you can live without one of those. Hint: it's not Dave. "S-Seven fucking years, you pretentious fuck, and not a word. I can't believe I love your stupid ass. Oh my God, Dave, I love you so fucking much. You're never allowed to leave me again."

Dave laughs, brushing your hair back to press kisses to your forehead and nose and cheeks and really, anywhere he can get. "Karkat, I love you, too. God, these seven years have been awful. Fuck, I'm never going to be that stupid again, I promise. I promise I'm staying this time." He blabbers on, and eventually you're both just repeating "I love you" over and over again and laughing when you're not kissing.

And God, you've never felt this light in your entire life. He's wormed his way under the blanket with you, breakfast forgotten, and he's kissing you slowly and sweetly one moment, and the desperately the next, like he's never going to be able to do this again. There's no ring on his finger. If there was a girl, you would have seen her with him. Either that, or she'll be gone by tomorrow.

You don't rush the kisses, mumbling how much you missed him in between breaths, until finally he has to tell you to shut up and just let yourself be held. You can't object to that. He's yours. Nine years of trying to hate him and hating to love him and resenting him and you can finally say it. Dave is yours, and you're his. You could just repeat that for the rest of your life - it feels so good to say. Love is so underrated. But you don't voice any of this, instead listening to him and just letting yourself be coddled.

Dave pushes his lips against your forehead, murmuring sweet nothings against your skin, and you feel loved.

A/N: Woah, super cheesy ending right there. Hope none of you mind. I was kinda in a rush when I finished this chapter and the last one. I have this great idea for my next DaveKat work that I'm so fucking excited to try out. It's probably been done, but fuck it. I don't care, I'm doing it anyway. You guys underestimate the effort that this shit takes. I also get the feeling that you're overestimating my age. But thanks so much for reading! The following list has been included because music is seriously the only reason I got through these chapters at all.

Songs that inspired this fanfiction:

"If I Had You" by Adam Lambert.

"Lovesick Fool" by The Cab.

"Little Dreams" by Ellie Goulding.

"I Need Your Love" by Calvin Harris ft. Ellie Goulding

"I Won't Say I'm In Love" from Hercules.

"Lies" by Marina and the Diamonds.

"Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Sons.

"True Love" by P!nk.

"Blank Space" by Taylor Swift.

"You Look Better When I'm Drunk" by The White Tie Affair.

"You Suck At Love" by Simple Plan.

"Enchanted" by Owl City.

"Can't Help Falling In Love" by Haley Reinhart.

"Not In That Way" by Sam Smith.

And a lot of different things by Fall Out Boy.

Final statistics:

Words: 53,172

Characters: 287,965

Characters excluding spaces: 235,452