Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2376359.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Fall_Out_Boy, Real_Person_Fiction, Music_RPF, My_Chemical_Romance, Bandom
  Relationship:
      Patrick_Stump/Pete_Wentz
  Character:
      Patrick_Stump, Pete_Wentz, Joe_Trohman, Andy_Hurley, Gerard_Way, Frank
      Iero
  Additional Tags:
      Slow_Build, Depression, Eating_Disorders, Eventual_Happy_Ending,
      Triggers, Relapsing, Underage_Sex
  Series:
      Part 1 of the_'folie'_between_two
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-09-29 Completed: 2014-11-02 Chapters: 16/16 Words: 31071
****** 7 Minutes In Heaven ******
by victorygirl723
Summary
     Pete is struggling to find himself at college. At the same time, him
     and his friend Joe are working on forming a band and manage to find a
     young Patrick Stump willing to join the band. As the band forms and
     gets off its' feet, Patrick and Pete find themselves growing closer
     and falling in love while struggling with their inner demons as well.
Notes
     Don't own the title, characters, or lyrics (obviously). My writing
     style was inspired by Gray by Pete Wentz.
***** Chapter 1 *****
My alarm always finds the wrong time to wake me up. It must know when I don’t
want to be awoken and just decides to ring at that exact moment. I’m sure it’s
out to get me. I sighed when I heard the annoying high pitched beeping and
groaned. I reached my hand over and slammed on the snooze button. I knew I had
class soon, but I could care less. Sleep was the only thing I wanted right now.
I rolled over and adjusted myself. I heard the beeping a couple minutes after
that and I groaned again. I decided I should probably get up for class since I
had skipped Psychology a couple times too many this semester. I turned off my
alarm and got out of bed. My roommate was already gone. He had early classes
and was usually gone at this point. I saw some of his art supplies was strewn
on the floor in front of his bed. Papers and folders were scattered in a
disorganized mess all over the place as well. Looks like he overslept too, I
thought. I walked out our room and down the hall to take a shower. The floor
was quiet. People were either sleeping or at class at this time in the morning.
I walked into the bathroom, took off my clothes, and stepped into the shower.
The water was cold. I shuttered when it hit my back. The water heater for our
floor must be broken, again. I quickly rinsed off and then got out. I wrapped
myself in a towel and walked back to the room to get dressed. When I got back
into our room, my roommate was back. He looked a bit distressed. He was running
his fingers through his brightly dyed red hair while searching the room for
something.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Did you touch any of my stuff?” he asked.
“No, why?” I asked. He sighed frustratedly.
“I left a sketch for my art class here and I can’t find it. I need it for today
because we were suppose to submit a draft of a project we’re doing. Sure you
didn’t touch any of my stuff?” he said eyeing me suspiciously.
“Why would I be touching any of your art stuff?” I said. He shrugged.
“I don’t know what you do in your free time,” he said.
“Well, I didn’t touch anything,” I said pulling a shirt over my head. I saw a
piece of paper tucked behind his bed.
“Is that what you are looking for?” I said pointing to it. He looked over and
grabbed it.
“Oh thank god. Yep, thanks man,” he said. I tried to look at it before his
shoved it into a portfolio folder. He turned around to see me straining my
neck.
“Did you want to see it?” he asked slowly. I nodded. He pulled it out showing
me a sketch of a woman lying in the rain with a clock underneath her.
“Holy shit, Gerard, that’s amazing,” I said. A small smile appeared on his
face.
“Not really but thanks. Listen, thanks for helping me find it but I gotta go.
See you later man,” he said before walking out the door.
“See you,” I said before he closed the door. I grabbed a pair of shorts and
pulled them on. I grabbed my psych book and my laptop and slid them into my
backpack. I walked out of the room and locked it. I headed out of the dorm and
began the walk to psych class. Why am I doing this? I thought. I began to
ponder why I decided to go to college in the first place. It definitely wasn’t
my thing. I hated high school and college was different sure, but it certainly
wasn’t better. I really only went because my parents made me. Sure, I was
trying to pursue things that I was passionate about, but I wasn’t really
passionate about anything. The only reason I was choosing to major in Political
Science was because it was vague enough to get people off my back while
simultaneously giving me multiple things to study and look at. But, lets face
it. I hated it. The only thing I really liked doing was writing poetry and
playing my bass. But I wasn’t great at either of them and I couldn’t make a
career out of it anyway. Most musicians never get famous anyway. My parents
weren’t going to support that anyway. They explicitly told me that I needed to
focus on my studies and quit playing music. Did I do that? Hell no. My friend
Joe was forming a band and we were looking for people to join. Unfortunately,
we weren’t having much success with that. In fact, we were holding auditions
today at Joe’s place. We were hoping that we would find something but we had
been looking for months and we hadn’t found anything. Many hopefuls, but
nothing worked out. I put my headphones on and saw Joe had texted me.
I’m gonna be late this afternoon. Just stall them until I get there. I
shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes late.
How does Joe expect me to stall them? I’m not exactly good at making friends
let alone conversation with people. I sighed and texted him back.
Alright man. Please don’t take forever. You know how I do with talking to
people.
I bet he was laughing at that text. He knows it’s true. I walked into the
building, into the classroom, and sat down. Well, here’s to spending another
day wasting my life away doing absolutely nothing, I thought.
After class, I walked back to the dorm to change and grab a couple of things
before heading over to Joe’s. Gerard was giving me a ride since he had his own
car on campus. I grabbed my bass and a notepad along with a hoodie. It was
getting chilly outside. Octobers in Chicago are weird. It’s freezing in the
morning, then scalding midday, and then freezing again in the afternoon and
evening. We headed out to the parking lot and got in Gerard’s old Audi. He put
the key in the ignition and the car sputtered.
“Come on. God dammit, work,” he barked. The car finally caught and started up.
We left campus and started the drive to Wilmette.
“Thanks again for taking me,” I said. I knew he didn’t enjoy being my chauffeur
but he was nice enough to not complain about it.
“Sure,” he replied. We sat in silence. Gerard and I were complete opposites. We
didn’t really have anything in common. Or if we did, we didn’t know that we
did. He was from New Jersey, I was from here in Chicago. He was an artsy and
super creative guy, I really wasn’t. He liked comic books and watching art
house films, I liked porn magazines and mindless car chase movies.
“Have you guys found anything good yet?” he asked.
“I mean no. We had a couple of maybes and we tried them out and they didn’t
really work. Anybody that I’ve gotten along with has turned out to be either
not what we’re looking for or…”
“They suck” Gerard finished.
“Yeah,” I said. He chuckled.
“Yeah I know how that goes,” he said. Gerard, his brother, and some of their
friends had had a band for a couple years before breaking up for college. They
were considering getting back together but nothing was serious yet. Besides,
Gerard was loving art and as much as he loved music, it didn't seem like he was
too interested in getting back into that scene.
“Well, what’s the sound you are looking for?” he asked.
“We aren’t really sure. Joe and I love listening to rock and roll so we figured
we’d be aimed in that direction. Probably more punk I’d say,” I explained. He
hummed and nodded his head.
“So like Black Sabbath, Metallica kinda stuff?” he said.
“I guess you could say that,” I said.
“Well, let me know how it goes. I’ll be your first and biggest fan,” he said. I
laughed.
We arrived at Joe’s place. I unbuckled my seat belt and started to get out of
the car.
“I’ll call you when I’m done,” I said.
“Cool. I’ll be only about ten minutes away,” Gerard said. I closed the door and
walked around to the trunk. I took out my amp, bass, and some cords and other
stuff. I closed the trunk and tapped it. Gerard drove off and waved to me. I
wish we could be friends. He seemed like a nice guy. We just didn’t really have
much to talk about. I opened the garage and put everything down. I turned on
the light and began setting some stuff up. It was ten to five. People were to
come at five, if they were going to come at all. I plugged in my bass and began
playing a Jane’s Addiction song. My fingers were sore and had calluses all over
them. I had been plucking at my strings all yesterday. I was restringing and
practicing for fun when I should have been at class. My fingers were flying
over the strings like no other. I closed my eyes and began feeling the music. I
let it fill me up. I imagined I was in a music video, my fingers madly dancing
over the strings. I heard a knock on the side of the garage. I turned around
quickly and saw a short, blonde haired kid (well, he wasn’t a kid, but he
looked like he was in high school or something) standing in front of the side
door. I walked over and opened the door.
“Ocean Size, right?” he said half-smiling.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Jane’s Addiction is great. I’ve cried to their albums way too many times,” he
admitted. I looked at him kinda funny. He closed his eyes.
“Sorry, that sounded weird. Anyway, this is where the band auditions are
right?” he asked.
“Yep, you’re in the right place. Unfortunately, we’re gonna be starting a bit
late since my friend is running late,” I said.
“No problem. It’ll give me time to warm up,” he said.
“I’m Pete,” I said holding my hand out.
“Patrick,” he said grasping it and shaking it. I saw he had drums sticks in his
back pocket of his jeans.
“So, you’re a drummer?” I asked.
“Um, yeah. I dabble,” he said.
“Nice. Well, as you can see I play bass,” I said.
“You’re, like, really good,” he said.
“Oh, no not really, I-“
“No, like actually really good,” he insisted. I smiled.
“Thanks,” I said. He walked over to the drum set and was looking over it. He
tapped the cymbal and it rung.
“Here, I’m gonna grab some stuff from inside the house. You can warm up or
whatever. I’ll be right back,” I said. He nodded. I walked into the house and
was immediately repulsed by the smell.
“Holy shit, Joe. Clean your damn apartment. Did something die in here?” I said
out loud. I covered my nose with my arm and walked into his small cramped room
to grab a cord for his electric guitar and a mic and a stand. I gagged at the
smell. Never am I walking into this house again this evening, I thought. I
walked back to the garage and as I was about to open the door, I heard Patrick
drumming and…singing? I pressed my ear to the door and heard him playing
‘Hysteria’ by Def Leppard. His voice was strong but had a sweet innocent tone
to it. He then got to the chorus and his voice boomed and changed into this
more dynamic and growling tone. He was…amazing. All the singers that we had had
come out hadn’t had this much power nor soul in them. His vibrato was kick ass
and his voiced carried throughout the whole house. I opened the door quietly
and let the music flow out of the room. I peered over and watch him bang on the
drums. Never had I pictured this kid had a voice like…that. I walked over and
he stopped playing.
“You…your voice…is fucking amazing. That was amazing!” I exclaimed. He blushed.
“Oh no. I can’t sing…that…that was nothing…really…” he said softly.
“No man, seriously. You can fucking sing. No way we are sticking you behind a
set of drums if you’re in this band. You think you can sing us something else
when Joe gets here? Or you could just play that song again?” I said.
“Pete, really, I think it’d be better if I just stuck to drums. I can’t sing
that well,” Patrick tried.
“No way buddy. You’re talented,” I said. Patrick looked down and smiled. I
pulled out my phone and dialed Joe.
“Pete, I’m almost at the house calm down,” he said.
“Joe, this kid showed up to auditions and he can really sing. Like, really
sing,” I emphasized.
“You’re not bluffing me right?” he asked.
“No man. I’m serious,” I said.
“Well, wait till I get there. I’m around the block. I can’t wait to hear him,”
Joe said. I hung up and grinned.
“He’s excited to see you,” I said. Patrick smiled weakly.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“I’m sixteen. I go to Glenbrook South, if you know where that is,” he said.
“No way! I went to New Trier,” I said.
“Oh nice. But, you’re not like, upset that I’m not older?” he asked. I shook my
head.
“Age doesn’t matter when you have a voice like that,” I stated. As soon as I
said that, Joe opened the door and walked in with his guitar. He pulled up his
sunglasses and looked over at Patrick.
“Well, hey there,” he said.
“Joe, this is Patrick,” I said. Patrick shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
“Likewise,” Joe replied. He walked over and set his guitar case down. He walked
over to me and whispered in my ear.
“You promise you’re not shitting me?” he asked.
“Just you listen,” I said. He inhaled and got his guitar out of his case.
“Ok Patrick. Let’s see what you can do,” Joe said. Patrick nodded and began
playing Hysteria again. I watched Joe’s expression change from unamused to
surprise in about two seconds when he heard Patrick start wailing on the
chorus. I smiled. He looked over at me and mouthed ‘holy shit’. I laughed.
Patrick finished the song and we both began clapping. He smiled.
“Wow, I thought Pete was pulling my leg when he said you could sing. But man,
you can sing,” Joe said convinced.
“Well, I was just trying out for drummer. He caught me in the middle of
indulging myself,” Patrick said.
“Buddy, you can play drums, but if you chose to be in this band, you’d be
singing. We can find another drummer, we can’t find another kick-ass singer,”
Joe said. Patrick smiled and looked down at his feet.
“So, are you in?” I asked.
“I mean, sure. If you guys will have me,” he said. Joe and I cheered and walked
over to him.
“Welcome to the band,” Joe held out his hand and pulled him in for a bro hug.
We all exchanged numbers and Patrick began packing up to leave. We bid him
goodbye and he walked out.
Joe and I went out for pizza and drinks to celebrate and because I refused to
stay and eat at Joe’s because of the horrible smell. We went down to a small
pizza place nearby. We sat down and immediately started grinning and laughing.
“Months and months of nothing and then this kid just shows up! What are the
odds?” Joe says.
“I know right. When I first saw him, I was expecting him to be like everyone
else we had seen but then he was just, wow,” I enthused. 
 “Well, the reason I
was late tonight was because I think I may have found us a drummer. He couldn’t
come tonight but I saw him play at a gig a couple nights ago and I met with him
today. He said he’d drum for us part time until we found someone else but I
think we can convince him to be stay with us,” Joe said.
“Sick, what’s his name?” I asked.
“His name is Andy and he’s from Wisconsin. You have no idea how much gas I
wasted just to drive all the way up there to talk to him. But the dude is
great,” Joe explained.
“This is fantastic. I am on cloud fucking nine. Now we just need to get
together sometime, rehearse and see how we work together and hopefully come up
with a name if everything works out,” I said. Joe took a sip of my beer. I
rolled my eyes.
“You need to get yourself a fake I.D son. I know a guy if you want one,” I
said.
“Nah man. Then I actually have to pay for my own drinks. This way, you got me,”
he said.
“Oh great. I’m glad that’s my use in this relationship,” I said sarcastically.
“Love you man,” he said innocently. I kicked his foot underneath the table.
After dinner, we went back to Joe’s and I called Gerard to come and pick me up.
He came and helped me pack everything into his car. He chatted with Joe for a
while and then we headed back off to campus.
“So, how’d everything go?” he asked.
“We found ourselves a singer and maybe a drummer,” I said trying to contain my
excitement.
“Wow, that’s great! Congrats,” he congratulated.
“Yeah. The singer was this kid. You never would have expected him to have this
voice but man. Holy shit could he sing,” I said closing my eyes.
“How old is he?” he asked.
“Sixteen,” I said. Gerard gave me a look of somewhat disgust.
“Yes, yes I know. I thought the same thing but this kid is different. He’s
super nice and way too talented to be passed up,” I said.
“Wow, he must be that good,” he said.
“He is. The drummer I haven’t seen yet. Joe says he’s gonna drive down this
weekend and we’re gonna get together and practice,” I said.
“I hope all goes well for you,” he said. He seemed a bit bored.
“Anyway, what was that project you need this morning?” I asked trying to be
polite.
“Oh, um, it was just this weird dream I had had. It had been haunting me so I
figured I’d draw out and try and convey it. It’s not finished yet,” he said.
“What was the dream?” I asked.
“It was like, this woman got pushed out of this balcony and lands on the clock.
Then time keeps going forward and backward at the same time and time mixes
until it had melded completely together,” he explained.
“Sounds like some weird acid trip,” I laughed. He giggled.
“It may have been,” he admitted.
I fell asleep sometime after that and didn't wake up till we were back at
DePaul. Gerard tapped me to wake me up. I jolted awake and blinked rapidly.
“We’re here,” he said. I sat up and got out of the car. He carried my amp and I
carried my bass. We walked back into the room and Gerard went out with his
friends Frank and Ray while I stayed back and chilled in our room. I pulled off
my shirt and climbed up onto my bunk. I was tired but I couldn’t sleep because
I was so excited about this band. I got off of the bed and grabbed my notebook.
It had all my poetry and stuff in it. I began writing down lines of anything
that came to my mind. I scratched out and rewrote the same line over and over
and over again until I liked what I had come up with. I began to drift off to
sleep and my hand let go off the notebook. I heard it fall to the ground but I
didn’t care. I let my eyes clothes and I let sleep take me.
***** Chapter 2 *****
I woke up the next morning and rolled over and looked at my clock. It was ten
to twelve.
“Shit!” I shouted and jumped out of bed. I saw Gerard open his eyes and squint
at me. He didn’t have any classes today and he looked hungover but I didn’t
care that I had woken him up. I frantically pulled on a shirt and some somewhat
clean jeans.
“Pete, shut the fuck up,” Gerard groaned rolling over and putting his pillow
over his eyes. I grabbed my laptop and ran out of our room. I had Sociology in
less than ten minutes and it was about a fifteen minute walk across campus to
class. I jogged across the lawn and just barely made it into the class. My
heart was pounding and it felt like it was about to explode. My breathing was
fast and quick. I couldn’t recover it and some people around me stared at me.
Any of you ever had a day where you’re running late? I thought so. Back the
fuck off, I thought. I narrowed my eyes at them and they turned away. I sunk
down in my seat and closed my eyes. I inhaled deeply and began to calm down. I
looked at my watch. It was Friday and Andy was coming in this weekend. I wasn't
sure whether he was going to be in today or tomorrow but Patrick, Joe, and I
were meeting up today anyway. I started shaking my leg. I was anxious to get
out of this class. I wanted to just drive up to Joe’s and hang out and play
music. Unfortunately, the thing that stood between me and being at Joe’s was
this two hour lecture on culture change.
I tried to pay attention. I really did. But the only thing I could focus on was
jamming out with the boys. Possible lyrics for future songs ran in and out of
my head and teased my mind repeatedly. I should be glad that I’m thinking about
music and not losing control like usual. Those days and nights where I can’t
sleep and I feel like breaking are horrible. So, I guess I’m somewhat grateful
that it’s a better day and I’m distracted from the monsters in my head.
I tapped my pencil as I watched the seconds tick away like hours. It seemed
like an eternity had passed by when class was finally dismissed. Had I learned
a single thing? No. I probably would have been more productive if I hadn’t even
showed up to class. Instead, I tortured myself with waiting and pacing inside
my mind. As soon as the professor was finished, I shot up and darted out the
room. I looked at my watch and saw it was two thirty. Class had gotten out a
bit late and I was anxious to get up to Joe’s. I went back to the dorm and
gathered my things. Gerard wasn’t in our room. I was curious as to where he was
since he was my ride. I texted him.
Dude, where are you?
I was confused and a bit concerned. I inhaled deeply and threw a couple of
picks into my bass case. I pulled my amp out from behind our bunk and flicked a
couple of switches on it. I stood up and paced for a moment when I got a text
from Gerard.
Shit man. I totally forgot. I’m out at the moment and I probably won’t be back
till 6-7ish. Sorry dude.
Fuck. How the hell was I suppose to get to Joe’s? I bit my nail and texted Joe.
Do you think you can pick me up from DePaul today? My ride cancelled.
I sighed and put some cords into my bass case and closed it up. I put on my
black converse and rubbed my face. I waited for my phone to buzz with Joe’s
response. I glared at the screen, waiting. Watching. You’re screwed, my mind
said. Shut up, I thought. I twiddled my fingers and shook my leg. Nothing. I
stood up and got on my bed. I lied down and stared up at the ceiling. My
thoughts were seeping back in. He’s not going to text. You’re so dumb and
desperate. Look at you waiting for a text. Hopelessly waiting. You don’t have a
life. Pathetic. No, no, no. I won’t let myself lose control again. I put my
fingers in my ears to try and shut my brain off. Unfortunately, you can’t mute
this voice in your head. Dumbass. My breathing was shallow but my heart rate
quickened. I was sinking.
I heard the phone vibrate on the table below me. I jumped out of my bunk and
opened the text.
Sure man. Be there at 330. Be ready.
I was relieved. I had won this battle with my mind. For now. I pulled out my
laptop and began watching old MTV clips to try to pass the time and distract my
mind. It partially worked. At 3:30, I walked out to see Joe’s car parked
outside of campus. I put my stuff in his trunk and got in.
“In the mom-mobile are we?” I said.
“You can walk to my house you know,” he retorted. I laughed.
“Kidding. At least you have a car to use,” I said. Joe shrugged.
“We have to go pick up Patrick on the way back,” he said.
“Cool, when does Andy get in?” I asked.
“I think late tonight. You all up for staying at my house for the weekend? My
parents are out of town,”
“Joe, if your place smells horrible…”
“It doesn’t. I promise I cleaned up,” he revealed. A surprised look came over
my face.
“What?! You, cleaned up? Joe Trohman? Unheard of!” I said pretending like I was
shocked.
“Shut up. I can be neat,” he said hitting my chest. I laughed.
“I’m sure you can,” I assured.
I began wondering how old this drummer was. If it was going to be me and a
bunch of teenagers, it wasn’t going to be much fun. I love Joe and Patrick
seems cool, I’m just not into being around that much teenage angst, even though
it seems like I haven’t fully gone through it either…
We arrived at Patrick’s house in Glenview. It was a medium sized house. He came
out of the front door. He looked a little frustrated by something. Joe rolled
down his window.
“Grab some stuff you need for this weekend. You’re staying at my house,” Joe
said.
“Oh thank god I can,” Patrick sighed with relief. He quickly ran back inside
and grabbed some clothes and such and came back out with a bag of stuff. He
opened the door and got in the back seat. I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed
into the back.
“Pete, if I could not have your ass in my face, that’d be great,” Joe said. I
giggled and sat down next to Patrick. Patrick waved at me awkwardly.
“Um, hi there Pete,” he said.
“Figured I’d sit back here with you so we could get to know each other while
Joe drives us around,” I saw Joe roll his eyes in the rearview mirror. Patrick
grinned and looked down.
“Ok sure,” he said. I noticed he was wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
shirt.
“TMNT eh?” I asked. He pulled his jacket over his shirt.
“Oh yeah. I’m really into them,” he said, his cheeks turning red.
“Who’s your favorite?” I asked. I was being genuine, it was an important
question.
“Donatello,” he said timidly.
“Donatello is pretty sick. I’m more of a Raphael guy myself but I respect
that,” I said. He smiled.
“You know, you don’t have to be nervous around us. You can loosen up a bit and
just relax. We’re not gonna bite, well, I won’t. Maybe Joe will,” I said.
“Oh yeah. I bite everything. Keep me away from small children,” Joe said.
Patrick laughed. His laugh was so perfect. It was deep and cute. So perfect and
in rhythm. Not what you’d expect from a teenage boy.
“Yeah, he’s totally vicious,” I said.
“That’s the vibe I was getting from his jew-fro,” Patrick said. I laughed and
Joe rolled his eyes.
“The afro will catch on. The ladies love it. You’re just jealous,” Joe
insisted. Did I really just get Patrick to come out of his shell a bit? I
wanted to keep pressing him to be himself. So, of course, I was going to.
“Anyhow, our maybe future drummer’s name is Andy and he should be here late
tonight. But before he gets in, what do you lads want to do tonight?” Joe
asked. I looked at Patrick and he shrugged.
“Whatever you guys want. I’m up for anything,” he said. I gave Joe a devilish
look.
“Well, there is this place we could go get drinks but we’d have to get you fake
I.D’s if you guys want. The music there is killer,” I suggested.
“You and the fake I.D thing. Fine, Pete, I surrender. I’m up for it,” Joe said.
“Patrick?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. I wasn’t totally convinced that he was okay with it but I
wasn’t about to make it awkward and go asking him. If anything happens, I’d
just claim I was the ‘responsible adult’. I was 21, right?
“Awesome. I know a guy. He can get us some super quick and they look really
legit. Joe start heading toward DePaul. The club is a couple blocks from
there,” I said.
“Dude, wish you had told me this before we came and picked you up. I just
wasted so much gas,” Joe whined. I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll pay your gas money, don’t worry your little head off,” I said.
We went back to DePaul where I called my hookup guy and he met us on campus. We
went up to his dorm room where he quickly made Joe and Patrick some realistic
I.D’s. I paid him and walked out of his room. Patrick and Joe were mystified by
the little fraud pieces of plastic.
“This looks so real. If only I looked about five years older and was about five
inches taller. Hopefully we won’t get stopped,” Patrick said.
“We won’t. They barely look at it when you go in,” I told them. It felt weird
being the only experienced one.
***** Chapter 3 *****
We walked from campus to the small little club called Schuba’s. I had been
there a couple of times and I had heard some great music. I figured introducing
Patrick and Joe into the underground Chicago music scene would be my mission in
the beginning stage of this band. They could hear some other music and get some
influences from other sources that weren’t so mainstream. We walked in and got
in easily. They barely glanced at Patrick and Joe when we came to order drinks.
They looked a bit guilty and nervous but the bartender ignored it. I giggled at
them.
“This place is great. I come here all the time and I hear great music. Up and
coming artists always perform here. I figured it’d be nice to immerse you guys
into some music before we start making music. You guys could get ideas or
whatever since I haven’t a clue how to compose or anything,” I admitted. We got
our drinks and heard a couple sets of different nobodies. Sorry, it’s rude to
call them nobodies. Me projecting my feelings onto others. Anyway, they were
good and Patrick and Joe seemed to be enjoying their time. Joe got a call and
went outside to answer it. Patrick seemed to be getting a little tipsy. He had
had a couple beers and looked loosened up. He smiled at me and leaned on me.
“Thanks for bringing me here Pete. Great idea. I’ve been meaning to get around
to coming here, just haven’t had the time,” he said with his eyes closed. I
looked at him.
“You’ve been meaning to come here?” I asked.
“Sure. I check out the music here in Chicago all the time. My dad and I explore
around sometimes. He’s taken me to a couple shows at other local bars and stuff
around here,” Patrick said. I was impressed.
“You ever been to Reckless Records?” he asked me.
“Of course, who hasn’t?” I answered.
“I go there at least once a week. It’s kinda a hobby of mine to collect
records,” Patrick said.
“No way. How many do you have?” I asked. He looked up and counted in his head.
“200 maybe?” he said.
“Holy shit, that’s a lot,” I said.
“Yeah and I’m meaning to get more. I want a huge collection someday. I want to
line the walls of my future apartment with all of them,” he said putting his
hands up. I smiled.
“That’s my stupid dream though. It’s pretty fucking unrealistic though haha.
Along with a bunch of my other dreams,” he said.
“What are your other dreams?” I asked. He sighed and took a sip of his beer.
“I want to be a musician. I love playing music. It’s the only thing I’m good
at. It’s the only thing I love to do. It’s a part of me. It’s all I’ve ever
known so growing up and becoming, I don’t know, an accountant sounds like pure
torture. You know?” he expressed. I totally get you, I thought.
“Yeah. I know that feeling,” I said.
“Like, how am I expected to go to college and become an adult? I know what I
want to do but musicians hardly ever make it to the big time so it’s
unreasonable for me to be all prepared and want to do something when it
probably won’t end up happening,” he said.
“Well, at least you know what you want to do. I have no fucking clue. I’m
sitting here majoring in Political Science hoping I’ll figure out what I want
to do. I can assure you one thing about college: It hasn’t helped me in the
slightest figure out what I want to do. It’s told me everything I don’t want to
do,” I complained.
“Well, that makes me want to go to college,” Patrick joked. He laughed a bit
and I smiled weakly.
“It’s not for me. Doesn’t mean it won’t be for you if you decide to go,” I
said. I didn’t need angry parents at me for telling him not to go to college.
“It’s cool. I wasn’t really planning on going anyway,” he said. He breathed
out. I wrapped my hands around my beer bottle.
“High school sucks ass,” he blurted.
“I’ve been there. I one hundred percent agree,” I said.
“I mean. All the ignorance and selfishness and bullshit that’s in that place.
It just makes me want to escape and make something of myself. Everyone in this
god damn town never does anything big with their life. I want to be something.
I want to make music,” he said earnestly. I looked at this kid. So proud and
open. I could never be that honest with myself. How he knew all these things
that I was still struggling to figure out was amazing.
“You certainly are lucky. At your age, I had no clue what I wanted to do with
my life. I was an angry teenage boy. My parents sent me off to boarding school
and I was so mad that all I did was just write poetry in my free time to vent
all my anger. Even now, I don’t know what I want to do with my life. You’re so
damn lucky,” I said. He laughed sarcastically.
“If you only knew the other half,” he said sipping his beer. I wanted to know
what he meant but I figured I shouldn’t ask.
“Well, we’re bandmates now so we have each other’s back. We help each other out
when we need to,” I said. Patrick looked over at me and nodded. We sat there in
silence again. I wasn’t sure what to say and I could tell he was either
sobering up a bit or he was at the point in his tipsiness where he wasn’t
horribly drunk yet but he was past the comfortable drunkness. He was on the
verge of going off the edge. I figured we should probably get some food in him
so he doesn’t get wasted our first night out together. As much as I wanted to
see what the kid was like drunk, it wouldn’t be fair to him. He went to finish
his beer and I pulled the bottle away from him.
“Here, why don’t we get some food in you,” I suggested. He didn’t object. I
ordered him a burger.
“They have great burgers here. You’ll love it,” I said. He seemed somewhat sad.
I wished I hadn’t brought up some heavy stuff. I wanted to perk him up.
“So how long have you been playing drums?” I asked.
“As long as I can remember. Probably since like fifth or sixth grade? I’ve
always been into learning new instruments and stuff,” he said.
“Really? How many instruments can you play?” I asked.
“Piano, guitar, drums, I just started learning bass, most percussion
instruments. I want to learn trumpet and maybe some wind instruments if I get
the chance. But yeah that’s pretty much it,” he concluded. I was bewildered.
“Jeez. Anything you can’t do?” I asked. He laughed.
“It’s just my life I guess. My dad is a musician and he was always involved in
the music scene when he was growing up. I guess it’s hereditary,” he said.
“No kidding,” I said. The bartender placed Patrick’s burger in front of him. He
looked at it a bit dauntingly. I looked at him. He picked it up slowly and took
a small bite of it. He chewed it slowly and thoughtfully. He nodded and gave me
a thumbs up.
“It’s good,” he said while chewing. I smiled. Joe walked back in and grabbed my
shoulder. I turned to look at him.
“Andy’s almost here. We should start heading back to my place. We could chill
and start playing whenever we’re ready,” Joe said.
“Awesome. Patrick just got his food so we can wait-“
“No it’s fine. I can eat later. We don’t have to wait for me,” Patrick said
hastily.
“Dude, that’s one of the best burgers you can get in town. You don’t wanna pass
it up,” I said.
“I’m not all that hungry,” he said. Joe shrugged.
“Suit yourself. I’ll take a free meal,” he said while grabbing the burger and
munching on it. I tossed a twenty on the bar and we headed out to Joe’s car.
“So, did you see anything good?” Joe asked.
“There was this one girl who was good. Had this sultry lounge singer voice but
she did her take on classic rock songs and that was really cool,” Patrick
chirped.
“Yeah she was good,” I agreed.
“I love underground music. That’s why Chicago is literally the best music scene
in my opinion. So many genres mixing together and so many options to choose
from,” he continued.
“I can’t disagree,” Joe said.
“Patrick’s just all excited because she was cute and he has a thing for her,” I
joked.
“I did not,” he defended.
“Dude, I saw you eyeing her. Heart eyes and everything,” I said. He rolled his
eyes.
“I don’t know who you were watching but I was definitely not checking her out,”
he said. I laughed.
“I’m sure Patrick’s got mad game with the ladies at Glenbrook. He doesn’t need
to check out other women,” Joe said.
“Yep, mad skills over here. With my glasses and height and everything, total
chick magnet,” he said. Joe and I giggled.
“Not like any of us are getting any girls either. You need not worry. When
you’re a rockstar, you’ll get all the attention you ever wanted and way more,”
I said.
“Oh great. I love attention,” Patrick groaned.
“Relax man,” I said pulling him to rub his head with my fist. He pulled back
fixing his hair.
“As much as I appreciate you messing up my hair…” he said. I stuck my tongue
out at him. He slapped my chest with his fist. I hit him back and soon we were
in a full fledged slap war.
“Hey, lovebirds. Cut it out back there. You’re too distracting. Rule number
whatever of driving, don’t distract the driver,” Joe said. Patrick pulled his
hands away from me and sat on them. I put my hands up and laughed. Patrick gave
me childish look. He kicked my shin.
“You wanna start another war?” I growled. Patrick narrowed his eyes playfully.
“Pete, if you kick him back I swear to god I will throw you out of this car,”
Joe stated. I inched my foot closer and closer to Patrick’s. Joe stared at me
through the rearview mirror. I gave him an innocent look. He looked at me
suspiciously and turned his attention back to the road. When he wasn’t looking,
I laid my foot on top of Patrick’s. Patrick tried to muffle his yell
unsuccessfully. He half-laughed and yelped out in pain. Joe turned around at
the stoplight and glared at me. I was laughing and couldn’t breathe and Patrick
was pretending to pout.
“Pete. Say you’re sorry to Patrick,” Joe said.
“I’m sowwy Patrick,” I said pathetically.
“Say that to my foot!” Patrick said. He lifted his foot and I kissed his shoe.
“Gross man, apology accepted. Hope you don’t get like Ecoli,” he said.
“Well if I do, we’ll know where I got it from,” I said. Joe rolled his eyes and
turned back around to drive.
***** Chapter 4 *****
We arrived back at his house and what we assumed to be Andy’s car was there. A
tough looking guy with tattoos on his arms and long hair got out of the driver
seat. We all got out and went to greet him.
“Andy, good to see you man! Andy, this is Pete and this is Patrick,” Joe said
motioning to us. He shook our hands.
“Nice to meet you guys,” he said. He had somewhat of a high voice which I had
definitely not expected from a tough looking guy like him.
“Nice to finally meet you man,” I said.
“Pete plays bass as I told you and Patrick will be our vocals,” Joe explained.
“Sick, I can’t wait to play with you guys,” he said. We sat there awkwardly for
a moment before Joe offered us to all come inside. We walked in through his
garage into his house. I was preparing for the disgusting smell that was about
to hit me but I was surprised when it wasn’t there.
“Wow Joe, you actually cleaned up. I’m impressed,” I said.
“I told you I cleaned up,” he said. Patrick giggled.
“Well, since my parents are out for the weekend this place is all ours. My
brother’s room is open for business and one of you guys can take the couch and
I have a cot we can set up in the living room as well,” Joe said.
“Well, I’ll take the couch. One of you can take the bed,” I said.
“I’ll take the cot. Andy you can have the bed,” Patrick said.
“Thanks guys,” he smiled.
“Alright well, let’s break out some beers and lets get cracking shall we?” Joe
said. We all nodded and headed out to the garage. I set my bass down and began
plugging it it. Andy began tapping on the drums gently and Patrick was
adjusting the mic to a level where he could sing. He then backed away and paced
a bit. I looked up and saw him. 
 “What?” I asked.
“I’m gonna feel awkward not doing anything while I sing. You think Joe has an
extra guitar I can use for tonight? I didn’t bring mine,” he said.
“Definitely man. Joe has a spare in his room. I’ll go grab it,” I said. I
walked past Joe to go grab his guitar. He was walking out with some beers.
“Patrick wants to use your spare while he sings. That’s okay yeah?” I asked.
“Go for it,” he said. I walked into his room and pulled his extra Fender
Stratocaster from it’s stand. I walked back into the garage and handed it to
Patrick.
“Thanks,” he said. He plugged it in and began strumming a few chords out. He
wasn’t kidding when he said he knew how to play guitar, I thought. I opened my
beer and took a sip of it. I was ready for action.
“Well, why don’t we start with a song we all know? You guys know how to play
Shoot to Thrill by ACDC?” I questioned. They all nodded. A smile grew on Joe’s
face. Patrick looked a little nervous but he looked also excited. Andy was
playing it cool but I could tell he was just as excited as we were.
“Okay, one, two, one, two, three, four,” I counted off. Joe started off will
the guitar solo. Patrick joined him in strumming the chords along. Then Andy
started banging his drums to the beat. I almost missed my cue to join in.
Patrick started nailing the verse. His voice was obviously no Brian Johnson but
it was unique and powerful and so compelling to listen to. His voice pushed out
note upon note. His range was killer and he hit the high notes like they were
nothing. Joe and him battled it out for the guitar solo and play the riffs over
and over again. Then they faded out and it was Joe and Andy alone until Patrick
joined back in with his countermelody. I joined back up on the bottom backing
everything. I had the biggest grin on my face. Patrick started having an affair
with the mic. He was breathing the lyrics into it until he closed his eyes to
concentrate to hit the high notes. His voice didn’t crack nor stutter. It did
it’s job and carried him to the end. We ended up completely rocking out and
fading out. We all started grinning and laughing.
“Holy…fucking…shit,” Joe said. Patrick grinned and I laughed hysterically. Joe
and Andy high-fived and Patrick and I hugged.
“That was actually insanely good. We’ve got chemistry. No denying that,” Andy
said.
“Patrick where the hell did that come from?!” I exclaimed.
“Accessing my inner Brian Johnson I guess,” he laughed while rubbing his
forehead.
“Holy shit dude you can sing,” Andy said. Patrick blushed.
“Thanks man,” he said.
“I think we all deserve to pop open our beers now,” I said. I grabbed my
already open one and they each opened up their bottles. I raised mine up.
“We are toasting to a kick-ass first song together. Cheers,” I said. We toasted
and each took generous sips of our drinks.
“Well I think that settles any suspicions of us not working together,” Joe
said. We laughed.
“Um yeah,” Patrick agreed.
“Well, let’s continue jamming out,” Andy said. We all nodded and put down our
beers and continued to play old rock songs. We adjusted our sound to each other
and started taking note of how each other played. Patrick at one point picked
up my bass just for fun and started playing some notes. I was impressed with
how well he was already playing for just starting to learn. He told me he
sucked regardless despite the fact that he was wrong.
We finished our jam session and ordered some food and decided to watch The
Terminator. I suggested pizza since it’s literally my favorite and I’ll eat it
whenever. Joe and Andy went to Blockbuster and to get the food while Patrick
and I hung around Joe’s. We were tossing a tennis ball we had found back and
forth while talking about our favorite artists and albums and such.
“Favorite Smashing Pumpkins album?” I asked as I threw the ball to Patrick.
“Oh for sure Siamese Dream,” he said confidently. He threw the ball back to me.
“Really? Not Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness?” I asked. I returned the
ball to him.
“I mean it’s a great album I just preferred most of the songs on Siamese. They
spoke to me and there wasn’t a single song I didn’t like. 1979 and Tonight
Tonight are so overplayed that it makes it a bit more difficult to like that
album despite it being fantastic,” he argued. I nodded.
“Good point,” I said while catching the ball.
“Ok, favorite Offspring album,” he said. I thought for a second.
“Probably Smash,” I said.
“Yeah that was a great album. I agree,” he said.
“Although Americana is a close second,” I admitted.
“Yeah it’s my number two too,” he said. I threw the ball back.
“Ok, important question. Favorite Blink-182 album? And song on that album?” I
asked.
“Wow, that’s hard. Ok. You’re gonna hate me, but Enema of the State,-“ he said.
“Oh dude no…” I interrupted.
“Wait, you didn’t hear my favorite song,” he said.
“Ok, ok, proceed,” I said. He threw the ball back to me.
“Going Away to College would be my favorite if I had to pick one,” he said.
“Ok, you get a bit of redemption back. If you were gonna say Adam’s Song or
What’s My Age Again, I was gonna have to kill you,” I said. He chuckled.
“Dude you have really good taste in music,” I noted.
“Thanks. This is the main stuff I like but I like all genres. I spend any extra
time I have just finding new unique music. But it obviously has to be good,” he
said.
“I wish I had that much tolerance and appreciation. I cannot fucking stand pop
music and don’t get me started on country. I basically like metal and rock. I’m
super narrow-minded,” I said. He shrugged.
“People like what they like. Doesn’t make you a bad person,” he said. I threw
the ball back to him.
“How many times have we thrown this ball back and forth?” he asked.
“I have no idea. I was counting and then I lost count,” I laughed. He smiled.
“I never guessed I’d have so much in common with a 16 year old,” I said.
“Never thought I’d be friends with a frat boy,” he said.
“Hey rude. I’m definitely no frat boy, Stump,” I asserted. He giggled.
“I know. I’m kidding,” he said. I threw a pillow at him and it hit him in the
face. He chucked it back and me and I ducked. I stuck my tongue out.
“Nice aim,” I said.
“Well, why do you think I’m so into music? I suck at sports,” he said. I
laughed. There was a moment of silence. I sat down on Joe’s couch and he sat
down next to me. I put my feet up and he put his up as well. We were scrunched
together.
“Dude, two can’t have their feet up at once,” I said.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t taking up three-fourths of the couch…” he said.
“We can’t all be five foot five,” I said.
“Harsh. I’m at least five foot six,” he corrected. I rolled my eyes and smiled.
My foot edged up against his. It was kind of nestled there and I wasn’t moving
it. I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t but he wasn’t adjusting himself either. We
looked at each other and there was a moment of unbroken eye contact. Patrick
broke it by looking down and getting up when he heard Joe and Andy coming in
through the garage. I pulled my legs off the couch and straightened myself up.
What was that…? I thought. I wasn’t sure what to make of what just happened so
I just pushed it aside for now although it was probably going to come back and
bite me in the ass soon.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Joe and Andy were bringing in bags with Chinese food.
“Aw man, no pizza?” I whined. Joe shook his head.
“Nah, the pizza place we called was closed so we had to detour and go get some
Chinese,” he said. I sighed glumly and walked over to get the food. Joe started
handing out each of our take out boxes.
“Patrick I got you the same thing as Pete. I figured you two would like the
same thing considering you’ve been somewhat attached at the hip since you met,”
he said smirking. I rolled my eyes and Patrick had this awkward look on his
face.
“That’s fine. I’ll eat basically anything,” he said. Joe handed him the small
white box and he opened it. Chicken fried rice. He smiled.
“This is literally my favorite,” Patrick said.
“A man of good taste,” I said slapping him on the shoulder. We sat down on
Joe’s couches eating and chatting. I noticed Patrick didn’t eat much while he
said it was his favorite. He claimed it was because he wasn’t hungry but he
hadn’t eaten that much earlier at Schuba’s either. Light eater maybe? Joe and
Andy were starting to discuss how we should sound and Patrick and I were having
thumb wars.
“Hey morons,” Andy said throwing a pillow at us. I pulled back laughing and
Patrick was grinning guiltily.
“Help us out here will you? You’re part of the band too,” Joe said flinging a
piece of rice at me.
“Ok, ok, ok. What do you need my amazing input on?” I asked.
“We were just talking about what our sound should be,” Andy said.
“I mean, I think we should do what we like. I think it’s safe to say we all
like rock, punk, and metal music so I think we should do something along those
lines. We killed Shoot to Thrill so I don’t see why we can’t do something like
that now,” I said. Patrick nodded.
“Yeah plus alternative, grunge rock has been on the decline recently so we
could try to pick it back up and add our own flavor to it,” Patrick said. Joe
and Andy nodded thoughtfully.
“I see your point. I couldn’t see us doing, like, indie anyway,” Joe said
jokingly. Andy rolled his eyes.
“Well you have the hair for it Joe. Patrick, Andy and I would need to change up
our looks,” I pointed out. Joe let out an annoyed sigh but Andy and Patrick
giggled.
“You know I love you Joe. You and your ‘fro,” I proclaimed. I got up and
ruffled his hair to try to break his bad mood. He ended up laughing and pushing
me off of him. I smiled.
“Well, then I think it’s settled. We just have to start writing and developing
and see if we could put something out. We better start saving up money for
equipment and stuff,” Joe said.
“Yeah. This type of thing is so damn expensive,” I said.
“Well, we can worry about that later. Let’s watch Terminator,” Andy said.
Patrick did some lame Arnold Schwarzenegger impression and I stupidly laughed
because it was so…stupid. Joe put in the movie and Andy got up to put a bag of
popcorn in the microwave. Patrick and I set up our viewing spots…which were
right next to each other on the couch. Andy brought the bowl of popcorn and put
it on the coffee table in the center of all of us. I grabbed my beer and
casually sipped from it.
Somewhere during the course of the movie, Patrick ended up leaning up against
my knees to watch the movie. Which eventually, unknowingly, ended up me moving
my knees and him lying on my chest basically. I had fallen asleep and hadn’t
noticed him. I guess he had too or he wasn’t paying attention. I woke up in the
middle of the movie to find his blonde head on my stomach. His glasses were
practically falling off of his face and his eyes were closed. Joe was passed
out but Andy was super engaged in the movie. I needed to piss but I didn’t want
to move. Patrick looked so peaceful and cute. Wait, did I really just say cute?
I mean cute in the way that he’s so innocent like a child…
Anyway, I decided not to move and I ended up falling asleep again. The next
time I woke up, the movie was over and even Andy had fallen asleep. I found
that I was practically spooning Patrick at this point. My arms were draped over
his side and his head was nestled between my neck and my head. At this point, I
was really confused and I got really freaked out. I wasn’t sure what was going
on with my head. It wasn’t the fact that I might be gay. That I didn’t really
care about. It was the fact that if I was, I could tell something in my heart
was stirring for Patrick and I’m not good at anything romantic and I fucking
suck at relationships and I couldn’t start this with my bandmate. I wiggled my
self out from underneath him and I tiptoed to the bathroom as fast as I could
to not wake anyone else up and to avoid seeing Patrick’s reaction. I shut the
door fast. As soon as I was done peeing, I really felt like I needed to do a
quickie. But considering the fact that my friends were literally in the room
right next door, I thought it’d be really awkward if they somehow found out. I
sighed and went back to the living room. Patrick had sat up and was rubbing his
eyes. I walked in and took out the tape out of the VCR. I nudged Andy awake and
threw a pillow at Joe. They both woke up and stretched.
“Dude, not cool,” Joe mumbled.
“What time is it?” Andy asked. I looked at the clock in Joe’s kitchen.
“It’s 2:30,” I said.
“Awesome, time to pass out again,” Joe said standing up. Andy stretched out his
back and stood up as well.
“Well night dudes. The cot’s in the closet by the bathroom,” Joe said yawning
and walking to his bedroom. Andy saluted us and walked to Joe’s brother’s room.
“You know what, you can take the couch. I’ll sleep on the floor,” I offered.
“No, no. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I’ll go grab the cot,” Patrick
said tiredly. He walked to the closet and grabbed it. He brought it back to the
room and tried to set it up.
“It won’t open…” Patrick said trying to open it. It fell open and one of the
legs broke off. He groaned.
“It’s fucking broken,” he said.
“Oh yeah. I think Joe’s brother broke it a long time ago. I swore the got it
fixed though. Guess not. The offer still remains for you to take the couch,” I
said.
“His couch is big enough where we could both fit. I’m short as hell. I can fit
into small spaces. Besides, I’m told I curl up into a ball when I sleep anyway
so,” he said. I chuckled.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Totally. It’s cool. We’ll probably be in a cramped car or van when we start
touring anyway so we should get used to sleeping on top of each other,” he
said.
“I guess. Alright I’m gonna change quickly,” I said. I went to the bathroom and
pulled off my shirt and my jeans. Joe’s house was hot as hell despite it being
negative thirty outside. I walked back to the living room and laid on one half
of the couch. Patrick had pulled off his pants and was left in his ninja
turtles shirt. I giggled.
“Still loving the ninja turles,” I said winking. Why did I wink…? He rolled his
eyes.
“Night Pete,” he said throwing a pillow at me before shifting onto his side.
Patrick fell asleep relatively quickly so it seemed. Because I didn’t have any
stimulation or anyone to talk to, I was left with my thoughts. The endless
cannibalization of my brain. I thought about the future and what the hell I was
suppose to do. What was I suppose to be? Was my life destined to be boring and
revolve around Political Science? Was I suppose to have a normal job and a
normal life? Was I suppose to try music? What if I failed? I was so frightened
by the inevitability of failure. Was I suppose to wait for God to come down
give me the right answer or something? How fucking unrealistic.
I’m going to die someday. We’re all going to die someday. Everything we love,
everything we knew or thought we knew is going to be gone. Burned away when the
planet or sun explodes. Where do we go? Into some heaven? Or does everything
get blown away into a blissful oblivion that we can never know about and there
is nothing left for the rest of eternity? Shut up, shut up, shut up. Pete,
these things are important. You have to worry about them. And yes, right now we
have to worry about them. Oblivion. Death. The future. What are you going to do
the rest of your life? Shut. Up. You’re stuck with me no matter how much you
fight me. I gripped my pillow and tried to shut out the thoughts. You’re in
control. I’m in control. I have control. Go away. Pathetic. Think positive
thoughts. Think happy thoughts. No matter how much you suppress and pretend
like your troubles and worries aren’t there doesn’t mean they aren’t. You know
that. You’re not that dumb. Fucking stop. I’m done. I can’t. Stop. I tried to
shut my eyes to be consumed by sleep and escape from these thoughts but sleep
wouldn’t come and put it’s spell on me. I sat awake staring at Joe’s ceiling
fan counting the rotations to try and take my mind off of what I was thinking
about. I was failing at distracting myself. Pills. You need the pills. I’m
stronger than the pills I don’t need them. Yes you do. You’re weak. Weak. You
need them. Stop. Weak.
I don’t know how long that went on for. It seemed like an eternity but I ended
up falling asleep eventually. I was tossing and turning and it wasn’t that good
quality of sleep. I was shivering. I couldn’t tell if I was hot or cold. The
thoughts still haunted me in my sleep. I was in some house with no way out.
Every door I opened was another shitty memory or thought I didn’t want to
access or approach. I opened every door in that hallway. I sunk to my knees and
screamed. Patrick ended up shaking me awake.
“Dude, are you okay? You were sweating and shaking really hardcore,” he said. I
nodded quickly.
“Are you sure?” he asked worriedly.
“Yeah. Just a bad dream. I was falling and I couldn’t stop,” I lied. I could
tell he didn’t believe me but he wasn’t going to ask again. He nodded and lied
back down to fall asleep. I wiped the sweat drops off of my forehead. The clock
in Joe’s kitchen read 5:37. I wasn’t sure how much of the three hours that had
passed I had spent asleep and the other part worrying and thinking and freaking
out.
“You ever have those nights where you can’t fall asleep no matter what you do?”
he asked. That’s my life, I thought.
“Yeah,” I said.
“That’s tonight for me,” he said.
“I thought you were out all this time,” I said looking over at him.
“I mean I think I was half asleep. I wasn’t out. I couldn’t shut my brain off,”
he said. I sighed. He’s lucky that he doesn’t have to deal with that 24/
7 basically.
“Yeah, I don’t know what to do when that happens. I usually just hope it passes
and I usually end up falling asleep eventually,” I said. It was the truth. But
sometimes sleep doesn’t come and I end up staying awake the whole night.
“I guess. Well, if you need anything, I’m right here,” he said. I nodded and he
rolled over. I exhaled and closed my eyes. My eyes were heavy and I felt sleep
pulling me into it’s heavy spell. Finally, I thought. My thoughts began to blur
and I fell out of it.
***** Chapter 6 *****
I woke up a couple hours later. I wasn’t sure what time it was considering it
was dark outside and it was raining. My neck had ended up falling over the edge
of the sofa and it was sore as hell. I moved it up slowly, cringing at the
pain. Patrick was curled up in a ball, as he said he would be, asleep still. He
looked so delicate and cute as he did earlier. I looked over at the clock. 10:
49. Joe wouldn’t be up for another hour-ish and I wasn’t sure about Andy or
Patrick. I turned on the TV and turned the volume down. There was some MTV
rerun and I decided to watch that. I wasn’t really paying attention. I was
pretending like I was but mostly I was watching Patrick’s chest rise and fall
as he breathed. I wanted to pull him over and hold him in my arms and fall
asleep with him. I needed to get over this pathetic crush. There was no way in
hell Patrick was into me. Why would he even be into me anyway? I’m weird and
intimidating.
I pulled my knees into my chest and put my chin in between them. I looked out
the window and watched the rain drops stream down and race each other to the
bottom of the glass. Occasionally, one rain drop would consume a bunch of
surrounding rain drops and become a big raindrop. It reminded me of an
avalanche. How a small group can tumble and snowball into a huge mess. That’s
how my brain worked. A cluster-fuck of confusion.
I heard a creak from behind me. I turned and saw Patrick turning to face me. He
opened his eyes slowly and blinked rapidly. I smiled at him and waved.
“Morning sleepyhead,” I said. He yawned and waved.
“Morning,” he said. He sat up and his bedhead stood up and was exposed. His
bedhead is cute…um…yeah…I thought.
“Did you sleep well after your bad dream?” he asked. I shrugged.
“It was okay. I tossed and turned for a bit,” I said. He nodded.
“Me too. Damn it got cold in his house,” he said rubbing his arms. I saw I had
left my hoodie next to the couch and I tossed it to him.
“Here. It’s super soft,” I said. He smiled before putting it on.
“Thanks,” he said. I looked back at the TV and saw that Weezer was performing
on MTV.
“Look, Weezer,” I said. Patrick grabbed his hipster glasses from the coffee
table and scooted over next to me. He squinted.
“Oh yeah. I can’t hear what they’re singing but I’m guessing ‘Say It Ain’t So’
or ‘Sweater Song’,” he said.
“I used to cry to ‘Say It Ain’t So’,” I admitted while laughing.
“I may or may not have too,” he said. We both laughed. Patrick bit his lip. I
leaned in, I have no idea why. My heart had gone on auto-pilot and wasn’t
communicating with my brain. We kissed. Patrick didn’t object. He fell into it
as well. And somehow, it was right. Him wearing my hoodie with his glasses and
bedhead. My heart beating out of my chest and grasping his neck with my hands.
Him pulling me deeper into the kiss. Heat and passion. Our tongues eventually
mingling. Twisting and turning within each others mouths. My hands worked up to
his bedhead and played with strands of his blonde hair. It was perfect. Not
planned. We pulled back to breathe and he pressed his forehead to mine. He was
blushing and I’m sure I was too. We pulled apart. Both of us with stupid smiles
on our faces. I was giggling like I was a teenager again.
“Well, that was interesting,” Patrick said.
“That’s one way to put it,” I said. We laughed.
“I’m a hell of a kisser, aren’t I?” I announced. He rolled his eyes.
“Sure, we’ll say that,” he said sarcastically. I threw a pillow at him and he
laughed.
“You hungry?” I asked.
“Starving,” he answered.
“Well, Joe won’t be up for at least another hour and I’m not sure about Andy so
wanna sneak out and get some breakfast?”
“Sounds good,”
We both quickly changed and I called a cab. We were both carless and I didn’t
feel like swiping Joe’s car. I didn’t really want to deal with him later. My
stomach was full of butterflies and all I wanted to focus on was being with
Patrick. Our legs rubbed up against each others in the cab. I pretended like I
didn’t notice. Patrick being the goof he is, kicked my foot gently. I cracked
the stupidest grin. I was facing away from him and was trying to cover it up.
“I see you smiling no matter how much you don’t want me to. You have to
retaliate. That’s how wars work,” he said slyly.
“What if I were to say I’m a pacifist?” I said.
“Not a valid excuse in this situation,” he answered.
“Get out of jail free card?” I suggested. He shook his head.
“Alright fine. We’ll play your game. You’re going down, Stump,” I said
narrowing my eyes. I kicked his foot. It was basically a more aggressive form
of footsie for the most part. I ended up taking a cheap shot and stepped on his
foot.
“Ouch! You totally cheated man!” he said laughing.
“All is fair in love and war,” I stated. He rolled his eyes.
We arrived at a local Egg Harbor and sat down. Patrick ordered an omelet and I
got a skillet.
“I’m not sure why I got an omelet. I’m not a huge fan of eggs,” he said.
“Well, it’s like eggs to the extreme. They put a bunch of delicious shit on
it,” I said.
“Yes, I know how omelets work,” he sassed. I made a face at him and he laughed.
“I had no doubts that you knew how omelets work. I was merely trying to tell
you to relax and say you’ll like it smart-ass,” I said. He smiled and crossed
his arms.
“Oh, I still have your hoodie,” he realized.
“Keep it. I like it better on you,” I said. Smooth, so smooth, I thought. He
smiled. Our food came and we sat quietly eating, occasionally exchanging small
talk about whatever. I don’t remember. I was too distracted by his cute, little
face. I had to admit it to myself. I had a crush on little Stump over here. If
that wasn’t already obvious enough.
We finished eating and left the restaurant. We ended up walking down the block.
We actually ended up walking for a long time. The sidewalk had ended and we
hadn’t even noticed. I think we were talking about Patrick’s upcoming
homecoming dance.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be totally lame. The theme is ‘A Night In New York’,” he
explained.
“I never really went to dances. I think I went to homecoming once, maybe twice?
I’m not really sure. Never went to prom. Although sometimes I wish I had. But,
it’s just a dance. If you don’t end up going, it’s not a big deal,” I said.
“Well, it’s not like I have a group anyway. Nor a date,” he sighed.
“Well, you could always, you know, ask someone,” I suggested.
“I mean, I’m not really interested in anyone at my high school. Plus, I’m
pretty sure if I brought you, you would be arrested or something,” he said. I
laughed. It made me feel good that he admitted he was into me.
“It’s not my scene anyway. If you choose to not go, we can always do something
fun in place of it,” I said.
“Oh yeah? Like what?” he asked. I shrugged.
“We could always hit up Zero Gravity,” I joked. Patrick snorted.
“Um, yeah. Sounds like a blast,” he said sarcastically. I grinned.
“We could go bowling or go to Schuba’s or some other club that you wanted to go
explore. I’d be glad to accompany you,” I said. Patrick nodded.
“That sounds like fun. We could go to Double Door or The Hideout. I have tons
on my list,” he said enthusiastically.
“Sure. Take your pick. It’s a date,” I said. Patrick blushed and smiled. I
could see his brain was malfunctioning from what I had just said. I could tell
he was going to play it off all cool being the nerd he is.
“Great. This’ll be sick,” he said. I laughed silently. I was right, I thought.
We turned around and began walking around looking at the graffiti on the
buildings.
“It’s impressive how intricate some of this work has gotten over the years,” I
said.
“Did you used to do street art?” he asked trying to keep his voice a bit hushed
and quiet. I grinned.
“Yeah. I had a couple buddies who introduced it to me and after they stopped
doing it, I kept doing it. I did have a few run-ins with the police from time
to time in which I had to run like hell. But, it was fun. It was just one of
the ways I was able to be expressive. It’s a form of art no matter what anyone
says,” I said.
“I agree. I think it’s cool, I just don’t have the balls to do it,” he said. I
chuckled.
“Well, it is somewhat ballsy,” I admitted.
“You’re, like, seriously cool. I seem so lame in comparison,” he said.
“Nah man. You kick ass at playing music and you’ve got a hell of a taste for it
as well. In my book, that’s pretty cool,” I said.
“I mean sure, but you’ve done all of this stuff that guys who I’m not friends
with at my high school do. Why do you even bother talking to me?” he asked. The
bottomless vortex of high school. I do not miss that, I thought.
“After high school, cliques don’t matter. No one gives two shits that you were
the captain of the football team or the most popular and well-liked guy in
school. It doesn’t matter. I was never interested in being friends with those
types of people anyway despite the fact that I played soccer. The interesting
people are the ones who share my interests and aren’t dicks about it. Ergo,
you. Don’t get sucked into that stupid mind game high school likes to play on
every student that walks in there. Just be you and the people who matter will
find you,” I said.
“Such an inspirational speech,” he commented.
“Whatever, you get my point,” I said rolling my eyes.
“I got you man. Thanks,” he said.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     *sorry for the short chapter! the next one will be longer it just
     didn't cut well*
We hailed a cab a while after that and went back to Joe’s. We opened the door
quietly and crept in.
“Well, well, well. Where have you two been?” Joe said. I jumped when I heard
his voice and Patrick laughed behind me.
“We grabbed some breakfast,” he said.
“I figured,” Joe said giggling while staring at me. I groaned.
“Ok, you scared me,” I sighed.
“I know I did. I saw,” he stated. I made a face and walked to sit down on his
couch.
“Where’s Andy?” Patrick asked.
“He’s in the shower,” Joe answered. Patrick nodded and began walking to grab
something to Joe’s room.
“Isn’t that Pete’s hoodie?” he asked as Patrick was leaving. Patrick stopped
mid-step and turned red.
“Yes, it’s mine. He got cold,” I jumped in. I just saved your ass, I thought. I
wasn’t ready to explain the situation between us. Mostly because I didn’t
really know what the situation between us was. We had kissed and had scheduled
a ‘date’ but nothing else. Again, I suck at the whole relationship thing.
Patrick continued walking out of the room as if nothing had happened. Joe
walked over and slapped me on the shoulder before sitting next to me and
turning on the TV.
Later that day, we were rehearsing again. This time, we played ‘Lithium’ by
Nirvana and ‘Fell On Black Days’ by Soundgarden. We were experimenting with our
sound and were trying to fit together. We started playing a Nine Inch Nail song
and figured that wasn’t our direction we wanted to go into although I have to
admit when Patrick started singing ‘Closer,’ I was extremely turned on. We
tried a Radiohead song and that wasn’t where we wanted to go either. I’m pretty
sure we played a Cure song and ended up laughing half-way through because it
sounded so goofy. That cleared up that we wanted to do some rock and add maybe
a flair of pop or grunge to it. We then started playing ‘Separate Ways’ by
Journey, which turned out a lot better than I thought it was going to.
Patrick’s voice mimicked Steve Perry’s and the style of the song was much more
us. Patrick winced at the end of the song.
“I feel so weird singing such a rock ballad. These guys were classics and I
can’t even compare to them,” he said.
“Dude, you were pretty close. You’ve got the range and sound to compete,” Andy
said.
“Yeah man. I think this is similar to the style we should go for. Patrick’s
voice suits it and we can definitely play this stuff. It’s our soul and roots,”
Joe said. We all agreed.
“Sweet. We should try and see if we can start playing at some places. We should
start song-writing a bit but first we should do some shows to just show off our
talent,” Joe said.
“I’ll see if we can play at DePaul or anywhere around there,” I said.
“And I’ll see if I can get us anything up in Wisconsin,” Andy chimed in. We all
nodded and decided to go grab a late lunch.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Time seems so weird. Sometimes it passes by so fast and it’s a blur and
sometimes it seems so slow that a second feels like an eternity. It was
December now and nearing Christmas and my finals were giving me headaches. The
band had been working extremely hard, playing any gig we could get. They all
sucked. They were mostly just random parties and things like that. But, we were
getting our name out there despite the fact no one really knowing who we were.
We hadn’t exactly come up with a name yet. We also were beginning to write our
own original music so we could get an album out. I wasn’t sure what I was going
to make of this. My parents had been telling me for the past forever that I
wasn’t to do anything with music. I technically wasn’t even suppose to be
playing bass for fun. But what did I care? It’s my life. Even if I have no
fucking idea what I’m doing with it.
As for Patrick and I…it was…complicated. Our mini date at Double Door (we
decided to hit it up) was great and we saw a small little rock band that
reminded us of ourselves. We had gone on a couple more outings just the two of
us but we weren’t really dating…At least it didn’t seem like it. Of course I
wanted to be. I just wasn’t sure if he wanted to or not. I got him drunk one
night after we had gone to another small bar in town and we ended up making out
in the back seat of the cab. But when we had arrived back at his house, he
didn’t say much and the next day it seemed like he was pretending like it
hadn’t happened. I wasn’t sure what to do with this, so I faked like I didn’t
care. In reality, I did and it really hurt me and made me way more confused
than I wanted to be. But I did anything just to spend more time with him and to
not make it awkward between us. The days went by quickly but the nights droned
on. I would spend most days after class hanging out with the band or with
Patrick and the nights thinking and re-analyzing the conversations I had had
with him that day and whether or not he liked me. Why would he like you? The
arguments in my head made it almost impossible to sleep.
My grades had substantially dropped in most of my classes. I hadn’t been
keeping up on the projects and tests which made my professors approach me on
more than one occasion to remind me of a deadline or to ask me what was going
on. Not like I was a good student before, I was just exceptionally worse now. I
was forced to drop my Governments of Other Countries class, can’t remember the
exact term for it but like I cared anyway. My attention was toward other things
that were more important than learning about Ancient Greece’s republic and
North Korea’s dictatorship. As for the finals though…I suffered. Patrick tried
to help me study a couple times but I ended up C-ing most of my exams which
would not make my folks happy…
But school had ended and now it was winter break for both me and the other
boys. It was the 21st and we were meeting up to write some more and come up
with a band name. It was getting annoying either not having a name or changing
it every time because we didn’t have a permanent one. I was more than excited
when the end of the day came and Gerard was going to drive me up. He was
excited on the way up since he’d been asked to do a presentation to future art
majors (most likely freshman) and he had another random project he was going to
do. Something about a graphic novel or comic book or something. He was always
into those.
As for me, I’d been…rebelling a bit. I hadn’t been getting along with my
parents lately. We’d been fighting about my future and grades and everything.
They expected me to be doing well in class when I wasn’t and I wanted to do
something aside from Political Science. I wanted to do something impractical
that didn’t make any sense but I wanted to do it because I loved it. And they
were totally against that. So, I had Gerard help me a bit with my new look but
I had started straightening my hair down instead of spiking it up. I’d also
gotten in cut in such a way where a part of it covered my eye and thanks to
Gerard, I had become an expert at applying jet black eyeliner. I had also
decided to get a couple more tattoos. I really wasn't sure why I was doing
this. Mostly to piss my parents off. None of the other band members were
objecting to it, so, I stuck with it.
After I got back from class, it had started to snow a little bit and I grabbed
my equipment from the dorm room. Gerard was waiting to take me up to Joe’s. I
was staying the weekend again since his parents were out of town. Unfortunately
though, he was leaving for Christmas for most of break to go and visit his
grandparents. We were going to have minimal time to rehearse during break.
We got in Gerard’s car as the snow began to pick up. It was dark out and the
snow blew in every direction. The heat in his car didn’t work so we were
freezing our asses off. But, I had been getting along better with him recently
so we had more things to talk about to keep our mind off of the inevitable
shivering we were enduring. He was telling me about how he was going back to
New Jersey for Christmas break and he was excited to see his brother. We were
talking about the snow here compared to New Jersey and he was telling me that I
had nothing to complain about.
“I don’t think you understand how much snow we get up there. This? This is
nothing. We get like almost three feet on average each season,” he said.
“Yeah but is it as cold? It’s literally the arctic circle down here because of
the lake. More snow, more sleet, more cold, more everything,” I argued.
“If you ever come to New Jersey, it’ll kick you right back to Chicago. You
couldn’t deal,” he said smiling. I rolled my eyes.
“If I ever come visit, I’ll be sure to be in shorts and a t-shirt outside your
house while making a snow angel on your front lawn,” I said. He laughed. I
noticed his dark black roots had begun to peak out in his hair.
“You gonna dye it again?” I asked pointing to his hair.
“Yeah. I like red for now. I’ll probably go back to black soon but I’m digging
the red. It’s like fucking awesome,” he said.
“Yeah dude. It looks sick. Only downside is that your hair is gonna be totally
screwy after all this,” I said. He shrugged.
“It’s only hair. I don’t really care if I have ‘luscious locks’. You can take
that from me. You with your emo-flap,” he said snickering.
“Not an emo-flap,” I bickered.
“It so is,” he said. I rolled my eyes.
“Whatever mom. It’s not a phase,” he said in a rebellious teenager voice. I
cracked a smile at this. He laughed and so did I.
We arrived at Joe’s place and the snow had begun to become heavy and it was
hard to see the road.
“Alright man. I’ll see you when we get back from break,” he said. I pulled him
for a quick hug.
“Have fun with your bro and fam. Have a good holiday,” I said. He gripped my
back sincerely.
“You too,” he said. I pulled back and got out of the car. I grabbed my stuff
and motioned for him to roll down the window.
“Drive safe,” I told him. He nodded before waving and rolling up the window. I
walked up Joe’s walkway and heard him strumming on the guitar and Andy banging
on the drums. I walked in the side door to the garage and saw them mid-jam. I
snuck in and set down my stuff. They saw me and stopped playing.
“Hey man,” Joe said.
“Sup. Where’s Patrick?” I asked.
“He’s on his way. It’s the weather. There was apparently some accident near
here so he’s had a bit of trouble driving around. He should be here any
minute,” he said. I nodded and opened my bass case. I plugged it in and began
strumming some chords. Joe grabbed my notebook and opened it.
“Got anything new?” he said eyeing me before opening it.
“I mean no. Nothing good or interesting I mean,” I said. He flipped to a page
and read something I had written. He furrowed his brows and looked up at me.
“This…this is good. How did you think this wasn’t good?” he asked. I shrugged.
“It’s just something that I scribbled down in Psych class,” I said. He read
some of it out loud. Andy looked up.
“You wrote that?” he asked. I nodded.
“Isn’t it good?” Joe insisted.
“Really,” he said enthusiastically. At that moment, Patrick walked through the
door. His cheeks were pink and his glasses foggy. He walked over with his
guitar and set it down.
“Hey guys. Sorry I’m late. Some car had flipped over and it took fucking
forever to get out of Glenview,” he explained. We didn’t say anything.
“Did I miss something…?” he asked slowly.
“I was just reading something Pete wrote. It’s really good and he doesn’t think
so,” Joe said.
“Well, let’s hear it,” he said.
“What you do on your own time's just fine. My imagination’s much worse, I just
never want to know. What meant the world imploded, inflated then demoted all my
oxygen to product gas and suffocated my last chance,” Joe read. I winced at it.
It was just random shit I had written down. I don’t know why. It was literally
terrible.
“Jesus, Pete that’s awesome,” Patrick claimed.
“Not really, but we can use it if you guys want,” I said.
“We are definitely using it,” Joe said. I sighed and nodded.
After writing for a bit, the lights began to flicker in the garage.
“Aw shit. I hope the power doesn’t go out,” Joe said.
“Then we should go get a generator or something because no fucking way I’m
staying here in this house if it’s freezing the whole weekend,” Andy said.
“That sounds smart, except for the whole part that it’s snowing a shit ton
outside and it’s pretty fucking dangerous to be driving around,” Patrick said.
“Good point,” I noted.
“Well, what do you want to do? Freeze tonight if it goes out? We don’t really
have another option. My neighbors are going to be using their own if they have
one and I’m pretty sure people don’t usually have extra generators lying
around,” Joe stated.
“I guess. But don’t go alone,” I said.
“I’ll go with him,” Andy said. He put down his drumsticks on the head of his
snare drum. They began to grab their coats.
“Joe do you have food we can eat here? Or can you pick something up on the way
back?” Patrick asked.
“I’ll let you and Pete figure out dinner. I gotta figure out how I’m gonna pay
for this generator,” Joe said. Patrick looked over at me. I shrugged at him.
“We’ll figure something out,” I said confidently.
“Cool. We should be back within an hour if the snow isn’t too bad. I’ll call
you if we have any problems,” Joe said.
“Drive safely,” Patrick warned. Joe waved his hand at us and Andy followed him
out of the garage side door. I clapped my hands together and looked over at
Patrick.
“Let’s go figure out dinner, shall we?” I suggested.
“Sure. Lead the way,” Patrick agreed.
***** Chapter 9 *****
We walked into the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets and fridge
to see what we could make. Neither of us were good cooks on any sort of level
so anything that we could microwave or pop in the oven would be ideal. I found
an unopened bag of pizza rolls and Patrick pulled out a box of Mac and Cheese.
I turned on the oven and Patrick put on a pot of water to boil. I went to Joe’s
garage and grabbed two logs from behind his lawnmower and brought them inside
to his fireplace. I set them down and grabbed a stack of matches from a drawer
in the kitchen.
“Figured I’d light a fire. Set the mood and what not,” I said trying to be
smooth while winking. Patrick rolled his eyes.
“So smooth,” he said sarcastically. The oven beeped and he put the pizza rolls
on a tray and into the oven. I turned on the gas for the fireplace and put a
match near it. The flame caught immediately and began to start burning the
wood. It took about a minute before the wood was burning on its’ own. I turned
off the gas and sat in front of the flame, watching the fire and ashes dance.
The chimney sucked in the cold air from outside which made the house seem a bit
colder but near the fire, I didn’t care. I stuck my hands out and rubbed them
together. I pulled my hoodie up a bit and pulled my knees in close to my chest.
Patrick went into his duffel bag quickly, took out his hipster glasses, and
went to the bathroom to take out his contacts. He then came back and sat down
next to me. He sighed as he sat and ran his fingers through his hair. We looked
outside the window and watched the snow rush down. There had to be at least a
good two inches on the ground already and more was piling up.
“Damn, there’s a lot of snow,” I observed.
“Winters in Chicago are a bitch,” he said. I nodded and grabbed one of the
tools for poking the fire next to the fireplace. I began poking the log out of
boredom. Patrick half-smiled at me.
“Didn’t anyone tell you not to play with fire?” he asked. I smiled.
“They told me. I don’t like to listen if you haven’t noticed,” I said.
“Oh, I’ve noticed. Believe me,” he said. I shoved him and he giggled.
“I play to the beat of my own drum,” I admitted.
“Yeah, I know. But that’s cool,” he said. I looked down.
“It’s not always the best. Makes me an outsider a lot of the time,” I
explained. He looked at me. We sat in silence. He put his foot out and I edged
mine closer to his. A gust of wind blew fiercely outside and brought a stream
of cold air in. We shivered and the power went off. We heard Joe’s sump pump
alarm start to beep from the basement. I groaned.
“Of course,” I said standing up. I went to go turn off the alarm from the
basement. When I came back up, I saw Patrick still sitting in front of the
fire. I dumped the pasta in the boiling water and opened the oven to look at
the pizza rolls. I left them in the off oven to see if they would cook a little
more despite there being no more continuous heat. I hoped they would
considering the fact I didn’t want to try to call Joe and Andy to get food when
driving out in that storm once was dangerous enough.
“Guess we’re having mac and cheese and undercooked pizza rolls for dinner,” I
said.
“Such a gourmet meal. I don’t mind. It’s fine. I’m hoping Joe and Andy get the
generator so we can get some heat going in here. The temperature is already
dropping enough as is with the fire,” Patrick said.
“I’m sure they will. I have faith,” I reassured. I sat down next to him. I was
unsure what do in this moment but my gut pushed me to do whatever I wanted. I
leaned my head on his shoulder and he leaned his head against mine. He seemed a
bit nervous at first but we settled into it. His hand wandered over to find
mine and intertwined itself with mine. I moved my head up and looked at him. He
looked so nice in this light. The shadows and light made the depths and
crevices in his face look more dramatic and highlighted all the good things of
him. His deep blue eyes looked at me kindly. His mouth turned into a slight
smile. I leaned into his lips and connected with him. His kiss was warm and
sweet. It was lulling me into more and more and more without me even knowing.
Addictive in every way but so unexpected. I put my hand behind his neck and
rubbed his jaw with my thumb. His hand brushed my cheek and helped support
everything. Our tongues mingling and exploring. So much heat while we were
shivering in the dark.
I pulled away and ran my fingertips across his cheek. He looked at me fondly
through his hipster frames. No words were said. They didn’t need to be. It’s
like we were communicating telepathically. A mutual understanding that words
couldn’t describe. Patrick pulled away abruptly though and I was confused. I
sat up a bit more and looked at him.
“What?” I asked. His eyes flicked nervously around the room before he inhaled
and began to speak.
“What is this? I don’t…I can’t be doing this if it doesn’t mean shit,” he said
quickly. I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure what this was. I hadn’t the slightest
clue. But I didn’t want to scare him away by saying ‘I don’t know’ because I
was afraid I’d never get the chance to get him back if I did want something.
So, I answered with the vaguest answer I could think of.
“What do you want it to be?” I asked. Great response, I thought. He sighed.
“I mean…I think you know what I want,” he said. I looked at him gently and
pulled him back in for a quick kiss.
“I’m willing to do…this if you are,” I said. Fuck, I’m so bad at this, I
thought. He looked down and smiled.
“I have to warn you though, I suck at the whole dating thing so, just a heads
up,” I murmured.
“I do too. This should work out well,” he replied. I cracked a smile. We moved
closer to each other and began to huddle together for warmth. The house
temperature was dropping. The fire was not a smart idea, but neither were we. I
guess life is full of bad decisions. I shivered and looked at Patrick.
“I don’t want to sound rude but…”
“You don’t want to tell Andy and Joe yet, do you?” he interrupted. I shook my
head.
“Am I that obvious?” I asked.
“I mean yeah. But yeah I get it. I don’t mind. We can figure out our
relationship and get it all steady and what not and then tell them when we’re
ready,” he said.
“Okay. Thanks,” I said. I really wasn’t sure how to respond so the conversation
just trailed off and ended awkwardly. Patrick shivered and I took off my
hoodie, once again, and gave it to him. It didn't seem to help much so, I ran
to grab a blanket from Joe’s linen closet. I grabbed a blue fleece one and
wrapped it around both of us.
“Here,” I said opening my arms. I motioned for him to come into them. He moved
toward me and I wrapped him in my arms. I exhaled and I saw my breath. I felt
Patrick shivering against me. His head was against my shoulder and he was
gripping my chest. His eyes were closed and he was trying to focus on warming
up.
“Jesus, Patrick. You’ve lived in Chicago your whole life and you can’t take a
little chill?” I teased.
“Shut up. I’m sorry I can’t deal with 10 degree weather in a house
comfortably,” he groaned against my chest. I chuckled and rested my chin
against the top of his head. I closed my eyes and gently rocked back and forth.
We were curled up together in front of the slowly dying fire when we heard Andy
and Joe coming in. I really didn’t care if they saw us like this. We had an
excuse. The house was fucking freezing.
“Did you get it?” I asked.
“Yep. Let’s get this bad boy fired up. Pete, can you kill the fire?” Joe said.
I nodded. Patrick had fallen asleep in my arms. I gently rubbed his arm to wake
him up. His eyes fluttered open and he pulled off of me.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” I whispered before walking out to Joe’s garage to
get sand for the fire. He yawned and stood up and walked to Andy.
“Let’s get it set up. I need heat. Now,” he said tiredly. Andy nodded and they
walked to meet Joe. I grabbed a bag of sand from Joe’s garage and brought it
into the living room. I poured it on the fire and smothered it as best I could.
I then closed the chimney opening and went to drain the pasta. It was probably
way overcooked but I didn’t care.
***** Chapter 10 *****
About 30 minutes later, the generator was working and the house began to warm
up a bit. We were still chilly and wrapped up in blankets and layers while
eating our sub-par mac and cheese. Joe had turned on his battery operated radio
and we were listening to whatever was on. I was scarfing down my food. It was
warm and it heated up my thawing body. We were all sitting next to each other
right in front of the heater trying to get as much heat as possible. Joe put
his whole face in front of the vent. We all complained and started shoving him.
“Trohman, move your big head. I want some heat too. Sharing is caring,” Andy
said.
“I should get the most heat. It’s my house,” he stated. We all rolled our eyes.
“Okay, well then that’s my pasta since I made it,” I said.
“It’s from my house though,” he said. I groaned.
“Chill man. I’ll move my head,” he said nudging me.
“I also think it’s not fair you get the most heat considering you have that
jew-fro on your head. That absorbs like 90 percent more warmness than we are
gonna get,” I said. The other boys nodded. Joe rolled his eyes.
“Whatever,” he said.
“Joe, I can’t believe you still have one of those radios,” Patrick said.
“Well it came in handy didn’t it? Gotta be prepared for anything,” he said.
Patrick shrugged, agreeing with him.
“Also, let’s talk about the elephant in the room,” Joe said smirking. I
furrowed my brows.
“…what elephant?” I asked slowly.
“You know, you two all cuddly near the fire,” Andy said. I saw Patrick’s brain
freeze. Do I always need to save your ass? I thought.
“Yeah, because it was fucking freezing. It was like Antarctica and I'm pretty
sure we would have gotten, like, hypothermia if we hadn’t huddled for warmth.
You so would have done the same,” I said. They begrudgingly agreed.
“I guess,” Joe conceded. Don’t start with me Trohman, I thought.
They began to talk again when I shushed them. They all were confused and looked
at me funny. I held my finger up as I listened to the radio. I smiled and
turned to them.
“Hear that?” I asked. They shook their heads.
“What?” Andy asked. Patrick suddenly smiled. I touched my nose and looked at
Patrick.
“Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve, what’s the big deal?” Joe asked.
“Nothing. It’s just a good song,” I said.
“I mean sure for 90s anthems yeah,” Andy said.
“It was pretty good. It was all over the place and I couldn’t stop listening to
it. Another explosion for a British grunge band,” Patrick admired.
“See? Patrick gets it,” I said.
“Why don’t you just marry him then?” Joe teased. Patrick blushed and I rolled
my eyes. We had to work on Patrick’s poker face. He was the easiest to read.
Suddenly, we heard a huge thump on the roof and a large snow pile fell in front
of the window. Patrick and Andy flinched backward.
“Holy shit, that scared me,” Andy said. Joe and I laughed.
“Should have seen your faces. Priceless,” I said. We looked outside at the
window. The snow was blowing every which way and the sky was pitch black.
“Boy, does it look like a nuclear fallout is happening. I can’t see shit out
there,” Joe said. Patrick made an intrigued face.
“Nuclear fallout? Where’d you get that?” he asked. Joe shrugged.
“I mean it’s dark enough outside. It’s also quiet and eerie as hell outside. It
was so fucking creepy when we got out of the car and saw the street light down
the block flickering. I practically ran into the house,” he explained.
“Well, if that’s the case, if we’re being hypothetical, we’d be the boys who
would’ve survived the nuclear fallout.” Patrick said.
“The fallout boys,” I said jokingly. Andy snapped his fingers and pointed to
me.
“That. That should be our band name,” Andy said. Patrick looked confused.
“What? The fallout boys?” he asked.
“Something like that. What about, ‘Fall Out Boy’? It sounds sick,” he
suggested. We all nodded slowly. Joe’s face turned into a smile.
“Yeah…I like that. It’s cool and has a good ring to it,” he said.
“Nice job Patrick and Pete,” Andy said.
“Well, I mean we all kinda came up with it. Joe brought up nuclear fallouts,”
Patrick said.
“Shhh, just pretend we came up with it on our own. Yeah, we totally came up
with it on our own!” I bragged sarcastically. Andy rolled his eyes and Joe
shoved me. Patrick laughed.
“Well, I think this is a perfect time to drink,” Joe said. He went to the
kitchen and grabbed four beers out of the fridge. He handed them out and held
up his.
“A toast. To ‘Fall Out Boy’ and to getting a generator,” he said. We all held
ours up.
“Cheers,” we said before drinking.
For the rest of the night, we played beer pong in Joe’s living room since his
garage wasn’t heating up for some reason. We may have gotten a bit too tipsy
and passed out at about 3 AM. The power still hadn’t come back on when we
passed out. I woke up at 5 and my head was pounding. I had fallen asleep on the
floor and my back was aching. I stood up slowly to walk to the kitchen to grab
some Advil before trying to fall asleep again. I stumbled into the kitchen and
ended up slipping into his cabinet. I spilled over a bunch of the medicine and
I groaned. I crouched down to pick up the individual containers when I saw an
Ativan bottle on the ground. My body went still. I felt my chest tense up and
squeeze itself. My breathing went slow and hollow. I held the bottle in my
hand. I examined the label. It was prescribed to Joe’s brother. He had mild
anxiety and trouble sleeping sometimes. I had known about it, I just never
really put the pieces together I guess. Should’ve figured he took it.
I popped the top open and poured the tiny pills into my hand. Do it. Take them.
You know you need them. No. I’m better than this. Are you? Insomniac. Just take
them. You’ll get better sleep. You’ll relax. You need to relax. You’re so tense
all the time. It’ll melt away the problems. I…but I can’t. I said I wouldn’t.
You’re not giving up. It’s helping you. I…I guess a couple can’t hurt. My hand
was shaking as I put the two small pills in my mouth. My mouth was a bit
reluctant to swallow at first but my brain forced them down. I felt the drugs
swirl around my stomach and begin to enter my bloodstream. Those magical pills
sending messages to my receptors. Telling my brain to shut the hell up
temporarily. To stop the pain, if only for a couple hours.
After I took them, I felt my body and the world slow down. It felt like
everything was in half speed. My thoughts were blurred and my eyelids were
heavy. I felt extremely tired and wasn’t in the mood to do anything else but
fall asleep again. Maybe I’d actually sleep this time now that the drugs are in
my system. Wow. You actually took them. See? Don’t you feel better? No. All I
feel is numb. I walked into the living room to see the other boys still
sleeping in their hungover state. Joe was hanging off a chair, head first. Andy
was on the floor a couple feet away from where I was. Patrick had almost
managed to make it to the couch before what looked like slipping and falling
onto the coffee table and remaining there. His glasses were cracked and lying
on the floor next to him. I lackadaisically walked over to him and pressed a
sloppy kiss onto his lips. Like I cared that he was asleep. He wouldn’t be
waking up for a while. He didn’t even move after I had done that.
I lied myself next to the coffee table on the rug and looked up at him. My
fingers landed on his broken glasses. I pulled them over and traced the rim of
the lenses. I ran my finger over the crack through the center of the lens. That
was gonna suck for him later. I set them down and watched Patrick’s chest rise
and fall. It lulled me to sleep and I blacked out after that.
A little later, I was woken up by a ray of sunshine hitting my eyelids. I
opened my eyes and squinted. The heaviness in my eyes had not gone away and
neither had the numbness. Numbness was worse than feeling. There was nothing
there. I was hollow. Just skin and bones. My body was a walking vessel. I
wasn’t really there existing. I wasn’t sure where I really was. Maybe somewhere
better. The only benefit about numbness was that those pestering thoughts
weren’t bothering me for the moment. I wasn’t sure that I liked this better
though.
Anti-depressants are a bunch of bullshit. On the commercials, they make it look
like your life gets better and you’re immediately happy. All the problems drift
away and everything is okay. In reality, anti-depressants make you moody,
drowsy, and numb. They don’t take the problems away, they just distract your
brain temporarily by making you not feel. But eventually, they come back to
haunt you. You’re never cured. Just distracted. But you take them anyway
because you think that maybe you’ll be lucky and the problems will go away.
Unfortunately, they burst your bubble in therapy. Therapy is a bunch of
bullshit too. But that’s a different story.
***** Chapter 11 *****
I went to the kitchen to get myself some water. I saw Patrick stirring and
groaning. I grabbed the Advil bottle that I had forgotten to pick up from the
ground last night and brought the water and it over to him. He was rubbing his
head. He was paler than usual and he had dark circles under his eyes. He
gripped his stomach and moaned.
“Shit. I drank way too much last night,” he said. His voice was hoarse and low.
I opened the bottle of Advil and handed him two. He nodded and put them in his
mouth. He swallowed the water and sighed.
“Thank you,” he said. I nodded. I sat down next to him on Joe’s coffee table.
For not having slept in a bed, his bed-head was back and still as sexy ever.
“Is it weird your bed-head gives me the biggest hard on?” I asked. He closed
his eyes and laughed.
“I’m glad that’s what you find most attractive about me,” he said.
“That’s not the thing I find most attractive. It’s just a weird, guilty
pleasure,” I admitted.
“Why? Cuz it makes you think of what you could do to my hair?” he asked.
“Oh, what I could do to your hair,” I growled. He smiled wickedly at me. Within
a half a second, our mouths were pressed up against each other. Tongues and
lips colliding with no forgiveness. His mouth tasted like stale beer but I
didn’t care. As promised, I ended up entangling my fingers in his hair. His
hands were grabbing my neck fiercely. He was biting my lips. I moaned into his
lips. We stood up and he pushed me down the hallway into Joe’s brother’s
bedroom. He shut the door and pushed me up against it. My tongue was basically
down his throat at the point. He pulled off my shirt and ran his fingers up and
down my back. I shuddered, my erection rising in my jeans. He grinded his hips
up against mine and smiled against my lips when he felt my erection. He palmed
at it through the fabric and I moaned. He began unbuckling my jeans while
lining my chest with kisses. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t see. All I could do
was feel. I was euphoric. If I wasn’t in my body before, I certainly wasn’t in
it now.
He pulled down my jeans and my boxers exposing the throbbing erection. I gave
him a dirty look and he teased me by kissing and licking my inner thigh. I
whined.
“Be patient,” he said. I gripped the door handle and put one hand in his hair.
He took my head and a shiver shot through my body. I yelped, not so quietly. He
took me all the way in and I began thrusting into his mouth. I gripped the
strands of his dirty blonde hair and let out a moan. Oh, so fucking dirty. So
fucking dirty, Stump, I thought. He sucked so gently and I was on the verge of
losing control.
“Patrick, I…” I stuttered before coming. He pulled off before catching
anything. It spattered onto my chest and his shirt. Not like I had a problem
with that. I fell to my knees in front of him. His lips were swollen and red. I
couldn’t see and pulled him into my lap. I leaned down and kissed his puffy
lips. I stroked his forehead while catching my breathe.
“You looked so beautiful while doing that. Don’t think you understand,” I
breathed out. He closed his eyes and let himself fade away.
“You think Joe and Andy heard?” he said laughing. I let out a laugh.
“We’ll see won’t we?” I said.
I stood up, pulling my jeans up and zipping up my hoodie to shield the mess
covering my chest. I peeked my head out and saw Joe and Andy twitching in their
sleep. How the absolute fuck did they sleep through that? I wondered.
“You can shower first. They’re still asleep,” I said to him.
“Thanks,” he said before walking out of the room. I went into Joe’s room and
stripped off my clothes and tossed them in my bag. I needed to wash them before
going back to campus. I did not need Gerard seeing my cum stained clothes in my
bag and then totally dogging me about what happened and who I did. I pulled on
a fresh pair of boxers and poked my head out of the door to see Patrick walking
out of the bathroom. His hair was wet and he had already changed.
“Wow, you’re fast,” I noted.
“It’s a talent,” he said. I smiled and slipped into the bathroom. I showered
rinsing myself off. Part of me wanted to be sharing the shower with Patrick.
But that might be a bit obvious if Joe or Andy walked in. I got out and changed
quickly before seeing Andy wake up and slapping Joe on the cheek. Joe sat
straight up before gripping his head.
“God damnit, Andy. Did not need that this morning,” he groaned.
“Well, I didn’t need you sleeping all morning,” Andy said tiredly. Joe rolled
his eyes.
“Good morning, morning glories,” I stated. They let out huffs before Joe took
the shower and Andy walked to change.
“Well, they’re chipper this morning, don’t you agree?” I said to Patrick. He
laughed.
“Yep, definitely agree,” he said. Andy walked out and looked out.
“Well, it stopped snowing, however this is going to be a bitch getting through
to go back home,” he sighed.
“Aren’t you leaving tomorrow? I’m sure they’ll have it plowed by then,” I said.
“I was but I just got a text from my parents. They want me home as soon as
possible. Apparently all my relatives are invading our house for Christmas.
What could possibly go wrong?” he asked sarcastically.
“Sorry dude. That sucks,” I said.
“Yeah, anyway, what are you doing for break?” he asked.
“I mean, probably nothing. My parents are here for Christmas and then they
leave the next day for some random trip to go visit my Grandma. So, nothing,” I
said.
“Really? Well at least you’ll have the house to yourself,” he said.
“I mean yeah. Better than getting bitched at for nothing so,” I said.
“Patrick what about you?” Andy asked.
“Just spending the holiday with my fam,” he said.
“Nice. Like me. I wish you luck, my friend,” Andy said. He slapped Patrick on
the shoulder and Patrick nodded and sighed weakly.
“Pete, you know, we could always hang out during break. I’ll be aiming to get
out of the house as much as possible and I’m assuming you don’t want to spend
all your time in your house alone,” Patrick suggested.
“Not a bad idea Stump. I could be down with that,” I said nodding. He smiled.
“Great, maybe I’ll even drag you to meet my parents,” he said jokingly. I still
laughed uncomfortably. I wasn’t good around parents. I couldn’t get along with
my own so of course I was going to be shit at talking to others as well. I just
tended to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Maybe we could avoid being at
his house…if I was lucky. Maybe we could avoid being at my house. I didn’t want
to interact with my parents that much. Especially not with Patrick in the room.
Ugh.
A few minutes after that, Patrick was helping Andy gather his stuff and pack up
his car while Joe and I were lighting the stove manually to fry up some bacon.
Joe was also on the phone trying to call the electric company to bother them
about getting the power back on. He hung up frustratedly and huffed.
“Joe calm down. They’re probably working on it. I’m sure they’re really busy.
It was a bad storm,” I said blowing out the match after having the gas catch.
“I know but the customer service could literally not be any less friendly. They
had me deal with that fucking annoying automated service and then finally put
me through to a bitchy girl who told me to calm down and basically told me to
fuck off. Like lady, have your company do their job. If they were, then I
wouldn’t be calling,” he grumbled.
“Sounds like a match made in heaven. I think you should call her back and get
with her,” I said. Patrick laughed and Joe gave me an unamused look. I
snickered.
“Come on. You know you love me,” I said smiling trying to pull him into an
embrace. He was trying so hard to frown while turning away from me. I managed
to pull him into the hug reluctantly.
“I was just kidding Joe-fro. I loooooove you,” I said goofily. He rolled his
eyes and pushed out of me. He was half-laughing.
“You’re the worst,” he said walking to the fridge and taking out a package of
bacon. I bowed a bit and winked. I heard a thud at the front door and saw Andy
about to take off. I walked over and bro-hugged him quickly.
“Have a good break man. Let me know if you get any free time. We could hang if
you want me to drive up or vice versa,” I said.
“Will do,” he replied. He and Patrick highfived and then hugged. I walked him
out to his car and closed the trunk on all his stuff. He got in the car and
waved goodbye to me. I waved back and his car took off down the partially paved
street. I walked back into the house rubbing my arms. It was still really cold
outside. I could smell the bacon beginning to cook. Patrick was lying on Joe’s
couch. He was looking at Joe’s Cure record cover. It was playing in the
background and Patrick was reading the back cover. I saw the tennis ball on the
ground and I chucked it at him. It hit him in the arm and he moved his arm
back.
“Hey, you wanna start another war?” he asked rubbing his arm. I stuck my tongue
out at him. You’re cute, why do I get so dumb around you? I thought. I shook my
head innocently and snuck into the kitchen to look at the bacon.
“Great, I get to deal with you two for the rest of the weekend,” Joe
complained.
“As I said, you love me,” I said.
***** Chapter 12 *****
The rest of the weekend at Joe’s turned out to be pretty low-key. The rest of
the day Saturday we spent lounging around and doing nothing. We ended up doing
a Star Wars marathon and on Sunday, we went out to breakfast and then went to a
record store to browse for a bit. I then went back home to my parents on Monday
which I was not thrilled about. Of course they greeted me happily. They didn’t
know about my grades yet. They were a bit unhappy with my whole new look. I was
satisfied at their dissatisfaction. Monday was okay. It was mostly catching up
and settling in. Until Monday night when they found my grades out and totally
flipped shit. That didn’t go well. My mom ended up barging into my room and
yelling about how I was ruining my life and I had no idea the consequences of
this. I sat there trying to drone it out and she then yelled at me for being
disrespectful. She left the room angry and frustrated.
I had swiped the Ativan from Joe’s house. No idea why I did it, but I did. I
popped two pills and let the numbness set in. I watched the cars drive down our
street. The lights passing over my eyes and then continuing their journey down
the road. I had been texting Patrick. His aunt and uncle were having dinner and
drinks at their house. Patrick had snuck up to his room when they had started
to get tipsy.
You should see my aunt when she gets drunk. Total lightweight. She ends up on
whatever table is nearby and karaoke’s 80s pop songs badly.
I chuckled and typed out a response.
I think we all have an aunt like that. Mine doesn’t get on tables or karaoke’s
but she cannot handle her alcohol. She’s fallen down at least 3 staircases.
She’s lucky she’s not dead.
I sent it and heard my mom arguing with my dad from the next room over. She was
shouting at him that he needed to come in here and motivate me. Fuck
everything. The world was loud and noisy and all I wanted was for it to be
quiet.
Wow. She is lucky. If you ever video me when I’m drunk, please don’t share it
everywhere. Just laugh about it in private. If I’m that embarrassing I don’t
want to be put everywhere.
I frowned.
Why would I do that?
He sent me back a response immediately.
I don’t know. People do. And I always feel bad for the people on the receiving
end.
Look at him. He had a heart. Whether he liked to admit it or not.
Aren’t you the goodie two shoes?
Yep. That’s my middle name. Patrick ‘Goodie Two Shoes’ Stump. Didn’t you know?
This made me smile. He made me smile.
Very unique name. Kudos to your parents for thinking of it. Has a nice ring.
I’ll be sure to let them know.
Why did I care about a high schooler so much?
Do you ever wish you could shut your brain off and be empty?
His response took a couple minutes. He probably didn’t know what I meant.
I guess I do. Depends on what you mean.
I sighed. Everyone has their problems but I guess I wished he understood what I
meant. I wished he had my problem.
It’s just, sometimes, I wish everything would stop. Like I could hear myself
for once and not what everyone else wants.
This was the vague explanation.
Well sometimes you have to say ‘fuck what people think’. And it totally sucks.
I mean, I still have trouble with it. You have to trust what you think. You
have to know that your intuition is right.
Why does he have to be so perfect? Why do I care about this high schooler?
Because he gives me answers like this.
And I know you know what’s best Pete. You’re smart. You may not trust yourself,
but I trust you.
Fuck, these drugs must be doing something to me.
I wish it could be that easy for me.
 
I ended up passing out after that. I dreamed that I was walking through a post-
apocalyptic city. Newspapers lined the ground and the air was gray and thick.
My lungs had a hard time filtering it out. Everything was moving slowly except
for me. I was passing through time like it was nothing. I walked past a gray
brick wall. I saw a can of yellow spray paint lying next to it. I picked it up
and ‘the world is dead’ on the wall. I threw the can down and began to walk
down a dark alley. I saw Patrick asleep upright next to the wall. I walked over
to him and brushed his cheek. I pressed a gently kiss to it and he woke up
abruptly. He looked startled and had no idea who I was.
Who…? Why did you do that? he asked before standing up quickly and running down
into the darkness of the alley. I stood there watching him run away before I
felt something tap my shoe. A bottle of Ativan had rolled up to it. I picked it
up and opened it to see a note inside instead of the pills. I unraveled the
note and saw ‘Who are you?’ written on it. I woke up then and was confused. I
sat up and rubbed my eyes. I looked at my phone and saw Patrick had texted me
twice.
They tell us it gets easier. So I guess that’s all I have to go off of. That’s
all I can offer.
Assuming you’re awake, wanna meet up?
I typed back.
Yeah. Let’s do it. Lunch?
Okay. I’ll pick you up.
I changed and slipped out of the house before my parents could ask where I was
going or what I was doing. I waited outside for about 15 minutes before I saw
Patrick pull up. I jogged up to the car and sat in the passenger seat.
“Hola amigo,” he said.
“Sup man. Thanks for picking me up. Where do you wanna go?” I asked. He
shrugged.
“Wherever,” he said.
“Thanks for the input. You’re real helpful. Well, now that I have all this
power, let’s get pizza. I know a cute little place in town,” I said. I directed
him where to go and we chatted in the car. I turned on the radio and Eye of the
Tiger came on. I began doing all the goofy dance moves in the car and making
stupidly intense faces at him. He laughed and hit my arm.
“Dude, I’m going to run us off the road if you keep distracting me,” he said.
“Yeah, I’d prefer not to die like that. I need to go out awesomely. This isn’t
epic enough,” I said.
“Oh yeah? And what would be epic enough?” he asked.
“Like, being strapped to a bunch of firecrackers and being lighten up in the
sky. That’s epic,” I explained.
“Okay, well you let me know how that goes for you. I’ll be busy living while
you’re busy dying,” he said.
We arrived at the pizza place and we ordered a barbecue chicken pizza. We had,
again, started a kicking war and were busy kicking each other under the table.
The waitress was not amused when she came over to deliver the food and saw me
laughing and yelping. I probably yelled in her ear. Whatever, she didn’t have
enough fun. I loaded up my plate and stuffed my face.
“Hell fucking yeah,” I said through bites. Patrick was eating his slice slowly.
He was taking small bites and had been dabbing off the grease repeatedly with
the napkin.
“I think you got it all,” I said looking at him kinda funny. He looked up a bit
embarrassed. I smiled at him to break the awkwardness I had just caused.
“I can’t believe we finally figured out the name for the band,” I said. He
nodded.
“Yeah, that was weird how that happened. It was so spontaneous,” he noted.
“Well now we can officially begin labeling everything with our name. I can tag
some walls or buildings with it,” I said.
“You should take me sometime. I wanna see you in action spray painting. If we
get arrested though, I’m totally throwing you under the bus,” he said.
“Thanks, Patrick. Nice to know I can rely on you,” I said. He smiled innocently
at me. I kicked him from under the table.
“But in all seriousness, you should totally take me. I could get some mad
street credit,” he said. I laughed.
“Street credit?” I asked laughing.
“Yeah man. Future ‘coolest kid in school’ sitting right here in front of you,”
Patrick said proudly. We both laughed.
“I didn’t know I was sitting in front of royalty. Forgive my rudeness,” I said
bowing my head.
“That’s right. I’ll let you off the hook just this once. Next time you’re gonna
have to start carrying me on your shoulders,” he commanded.
“Because that’d make you so much cooler,” I said narrowing my eyes.
“In my world it does,” he said. I grinned and looked down. I took his hand and
intertwined mine with his. He smiled at me. My heart fluttered. I fall hard for
being horrible at romance.
“So when do your parents leave?” Patrick asked.
“The day after Christmas. I take them to the airport in the morning,” I said.
He nodded.
“You know, if you’re not doing anything, you could come over to my house. My
family will probably be having their big ‘let’s make leftovers from everything
we had last night’ night and you are more than welcome to come. I encourage it.
I’d love to avoid being stuck with my family the whole night,” he offered.
“Oh, Patrick, I don’t know…I’m not really all that good with people let alone
parents,” I mumbled.
“You think I’m an expert? You’d only really have to say ‘hi’ to my parents and
make a quick conversation and then we could sneak to my room and hang out and
do whatever,” he said. I sighed.
“You’re gonna make me beg, aren’t you?” he said.
“No, no. I’ll go. It’s just, don’t be surprised if something rude or
inappropriate accidentally falls out of my mouth,” I warned.
“I’ll be sure to bite and suck it to pieces if you do,” he said half-joking but
half not. He had a smug look in his eye. I was amused.
“Oh, would you?” I asked.
“You’d be so swollen when I’m done with you,” he growled. I felt my dick twitch
in my pants. The fucker knew what he was doing too. He had that look in his
eye. This was a game. I was the pawn and he was the king trying to trap me. The
fly stuck in the spider’s web and I was getting oh so wound up in it.
“I’m holding you to that promise,” I said. He crossed his fingers in front of
me. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and saw Gerard had texted me.
Hey dude. There’s a small party my friend Frank is having at his place if you
wanna go. I can’t cuz I’m out of town obviously but just thought i’d let you
know in case you wanted to. There’s gonna be killer music there i hear.
I smiled.
Sick dude thanks. I’ll be sure to be there. Let him know I’m bringing a friend.
I looked over at Patrick.
“How would you feel about going to a party tonight?” I asked. He shrugged.
“There’s gonna be good music apparently, according to Gerard at least,” I said.
He bobbed his head back and forth.
“Okay, sure. Only if Gerard says. If it sucks, blaming him,” he said. I snapped
and gave him a thumbs up.
We left the pizza place, Patrick not having eaten much but claiming he wasn’t
hungry. We walked down the cold sidewalk in the brisk, Chicago air. It nipped
our noses and Patrick’s cheeks turned red. His glasses were fogging up a bit as
well.
“Having trouble seeing?” I asked while giggling.
“I can see perfectly. Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” he lied. I
laughed. I picked up some snow from the ground and chucked it at his jacket. He
turned towards me with snow on his coat.
“Oh, it’s on,” he declared. He rolled a snowball quickly and threw it at me. It
hit me on the arm. I grabbed a chunk of snow and threw it at him. He leaped out
of the way and threw pure powdered snow at me. It got all in my eyes and in my
face and burned as it bite me all the way down my neck.
“Cheap shot,” I growled shaking the snow off of me. He stuck his tongue out at
me and threw another snowball at me. It hit me in the face and I jolted back.
“Oh my god, Pete are you okay?” he asked concerned. He walked over to me. I was
still leaning back a bit. I picked up a huge armful of powder and doused him in
it. He stood there not moving and shivering.
“Okay. I deserved that,” he admitted covered in snow. I smiled. I helped brush
some of the snow off of his face. I rubbed his pink cheeks and ended up leaning
in to kiss him. We were idiots on the sidewalk. Blind idiots, with blind hope.
I cupped his face and tried to warm him up. His lips were cold from the snow.
He grabbed my waist and pressed into me. I could feel him shivering and I
pulled him in closer to me. I wanted to absorb all the cold and give him my
heat. I pulled back and helped him shake off the remaining snow on him. He
wrapped his hand in mine.
“Fucker. You made me cold,” he justified. I grinned and looked down at my feet
as we continued to walk.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Later, we split up to rest before the party. Patrick needed to ‘recharge’
before the party. Understandable. He wasn’t a very social person. I didn’t
really want to mingle with anyone. I wanted to go for the music. Free beer is
always good too though. I slipped into my house and went to my room. My mother
was sitting on my bed awaiting my return. Her arms were crossed and she looked
upset. I leaned in my doorway. I wanted to back out but I had already been
seen. She sighed.
“Where were you?” she asked.
“I was with a friend,” I said. She shook her head.
“You cannot just go out without telling us,” she said.
“And why not? I’m an adult. I don’t live here for like 70 percent of the year,”
I argued.
“When you’re here, you live under our rules,” she stated. I looked out the
window. I wished for the numbness. I wanted to be somewhere else. She was
talking about something but I wasn’t paying attention. Suddenly, she was in
front of me and in my face.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you! You don’t even give me the respect of
paying attention or listening when I’m talking to you!” she shouted. I didn’t
say anything.
“Who are you? I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. I’m talking to a wall.
A poor excuse for a son,” she yelled before leaving my room. I slammed my door
shut and grabbed the bottle of Ativan hiding in my bass case. I popped the cap
and took three pills this time. The numbness began to set in. This was becoming
a routine. Sit down, shut up, take pills. Repeat.
I sat by my window and watched the snow trickle down from the roof. I could
hear my thoughts getting farther and farther away. Like a train passing by. The
numbness, however, injected itself into every vein in my body. Every crevice,
every corner, every empty hole in me, filled with the numbness. Why did the
world have to seem so sad? I felt like everyone else in the world had this
sunny view of the world and all I seemed to see was rain clouds over
everything. The world was half-empty. I was half-empty.
People say you choose to be happy. You pick your view of the world. Except when
your biology sucks and the chemistry in your brain doesn’t function properly.
The world is fucking loud and noisy and you can’t shut it up. You can escape it
temporarily but it’s there waiting when you wake up or come down from the high
or remember everything that’s wrong. It bangs on your door and barges in with
reality whenever it feels like. The world sucks.
I fell asleep after that and tried to shut everything out. I slept until 6. I
woke up and rubbed my eyes. I was even more tired than I had been before I had
fallen asleep. This is why I don’t believe in naps. I grabbed my phone and
texted Patrick.
I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes okay?
I went to the bathroom, straightened my hair, and put on my jet black eyeliner.
I was so messed up. I checked my phone.
Sounds good.
I went back to my room, pulled off my current t-shirt and grabbed a ‘Guns N
Roses’ one. I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a person, but was I really
there? I wasn’t sure.
I went downstairs, grabbed the keys, and left my house. My parents had left to
go somewhere. I didn’t know where and frankly, I didn’t care. I started the car
and began the drive over to Patrick’s. I turned on the radio and Metallica was
on. I smiled as I hummed the verse and sung the chorus. As shitty of a singer
as I am, I felt happy. In that moment, nothing mattered. I knew the world would
come back to fuck everything up but for right now, I gave the world the finger
and wailed that chorus as loud as I could.
I arrived at Patrick’s house. I honked my horn and he came outside. He jogged
to the car and sat down in the shotgun. He was wearing dark, loose fitting
jeans, an Elvis Costello shirt, and black converse high-tops.
“Well, don’t you clean up nice,” I teased.
“Shut up. You’re the one with the eyeliner,” he shot back. I giggled.
“Touche” I replied.
“So, where is this party?” he asked.
“Gerard’s friend, Frank, has a small house in the city and I guess his parents
are gone for the weekend so he’s having a party. He’s known for finding good
small bands to play at his parties so Gerard gave me the hookup,” I explained.
“Have you ever met him?”
“Frank? Oh yeah. He’s a nice guy. Kinda quiet but nice,” I said. Patrick
nodded.
We got to the party at about 7:45 with traffic. The party was already in full
swing. We could hear the beat of drums from outside the house. We walked in and
the place was crowded. It was a small house but it was managing to hold tons of
people. The house was dim and the floor was covered in plastic cups. A lesbian
couple was making out in the corner next to us and a drunk girl nearly spilled
her drink on me as we walked in. The air was thick and hot. Body sweat, great,
I thought. We slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of beer. We then began
heading down to Frank’s basement when I bumped into someone. The guy turned
around and turns out, it was Frank.
“Hey, I know you. You’re Gerard’s friend. Pete, right?” he said.
“Yep, that’s me,” I said.
“Oh nice, nice. Good to see you dude,” he said smiling.
“Frank, this is my friend Patrick,” I said. They shook hands quickly.
“Nice to meet you,” Frank said. Patrick nodded.
“So, who’s this band playing tonight?” I asked.
“They call themselves ‘The White Stripes’. I heard them at a small bar in
Detroit and they said they’d be in Chicago this weekend so I figured I’d take
the chance and get them to play. They’re really good actually,” he exclaimed.
The music became louder.
“Great, we’ll go watch them!” I shouted over the music. He gave me a thumbs up.
“Nice to meet you Patrick!” he yelled before he walked away.
“You too!” Patrick shouted. I turned to face Patrick.
“Well, what’d you think?” I asked.
“He seems chill,” he said.
“He is. Let’s see this band shall we?” I suggested. He nodded and we walked
down into his basement. A huge crowd of people was surrounding the band. People
were holding their drinks up in the air as they danced back and forth up
against each other. Patrick and I began sipping our drinks and swaying to the
beat.
“They’re punk rock!” Patrick yelled.
“Yeah! I like their sound!” I shouted. Patrick didn’t hear me but he nodded
like he did. I laughed. They began playing a fast upbeat song and everyone
began jumping and singing along to the chorus. We shouted it as well. A girl
brought beers down for everyone and we all grabbed one. I finished mine and
Patrick began his second one. We continued raving to the music in the crowd. My
problems were melting away. I was alive. In this crowd, with Patrick, I was
alive. I shouted my lungs out and hoped if I screamed loud enough, the world
would listen to me. I could tell Patrick was getting tipsy. He was grinding up
against me and he was getting clumsy. Not like I minded, I was glad he was
loosening up. He pulled me in for a sloppy kiss and we ended up making out in
the crowd. His lips sucked on mine and his tongue flew into my mouth. His hands
gripped the back of my neck making me moan into him. He pulled himself off of
me and put his index finger up to my lips.
“I’m gonna go get some food,” he slurred. I nodded and watched him trip up the
stairs. I laughed at his apparent drunkenness. I pushed myself to the back of
the crowd and watched the door for him. 10 minutes went by and he hadn’t come
back yet. I was wondering where he was. I left the basement and walked
upstairs. I pushed myself past people and searched Frank’s house. I checked all
of downstairs and he wasn’t there. I walked upstairs and saw countless couples
making out in the hallways. Boys had their hands up girls skirts and shirts. I
awkwardly shoved my way past them. I walked into the guest room and no one was
in there. I heard a violent noise come from the connecting bathroom. I knocked
on the door and heard someone talk.
“Someone’s in here,” he said. It was Patrick. His voice was hoarse and low. It
was barely recognizable. I heard something fall and another cough and moan of
pain. I opened the door and saw him lying on the ground next to the toilet with
his fingers down his throat. He shot back around and stared fearfully at me.
Tears were in his eyes. He coughed, thickly and deeply, and his head fell over.
I kneeled down quickly and pulled him into my arms. He began to cry and moan
into me. Oh Patrick, no…this can’t be your fatal flaw…you have no idea what
you’re doing to yourself…I thought. It all made sense now. The reason he didn’t
eat a lot, his justifications for not having an appetite. My stomach and heart
sank for him.
“You’re okay. I’m here, you’re okay,” I cooed. I rubbed my hand over his head.
He cried into me. It was weak. He was shaking in my arms.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” I whispered. We sat there on the bathroom floor for
another ten minutes. We needed to get out of here and go somewhere. My house? I
really didn’t want to see my parents but I knew he couldn’t be alone. I helped
him out of the bathroom and we got in my car and drove to my house. I was
praying my parents weren’t home.
***** Chapter 14 *****
We pulled up to my house and it was completely dark. We shuffled into the
house. No one was home. The house was quiet and I have to admit kinda creepy. I
helped him over into my room and I lied him down on the bed. I closed the door
and sat down next to him. His eyes were red and his breathing was panicked and
stressed. I rubbed his wrist slowly. He was staring up at the ceiling not
saying anything. I breathed out. I guess I should ask.
“How…how long has this been going on?” I asked as gently as I could. I didn’t
want him to get defensive. I knew how I could be when I was asked about my
depression if people asked the wrong questions.
“Almost a year,” he said hoarsely. I sighed sadly.
“Patrick…you need to get help for this. It’s dangerous and it’s killing you,” I
said.
“It’s not that bad…” he tried.
“It’s life or death. You know how bad it gets for some people? They end up
dying and it controls their life. I…I can’t have that happen to you,” I choked.
He closed his eyes. He took my hand in his and was fighting back tears.
“It’s…so…fucking…hard. I just don’t want to deal with it anymore,” he broke. I
felt the tears welling up in my eyes.
“You don’t have to,” I said. He looked at me. I lied down next to him facing
him. I stroked his cheek. The tears were streaming down his face. I kissed him
gently, tasting the salty tears between our lips. He broke the kiss and turned
away from me. I wrapped my arm around his chest and spooned him. I rested my
head in the crook of his shoulder.
“You’re going to be okay. I promise you. I won’t let anything bad happen to
you. You’re gonna break this. This disease isn’t going to rule your life
forever. You’re gonna get through it,” I whispered. He didn’t answer. I kissed
his neck and whispered promising things into his ear until he fell asleep.
I couldn’t sleep. I felt the Ativan wearing off. I probably shouldn’t have gone
drinking under the influence. But what did I care? The only reason I wasn’t
dosing up was because I didn’t want to wake Patrick. Disturbing him seemed like
a deadly sin at the moment. I was so thoroughly upset. How could such a kind-
hearted person have such a crippling disease? He didn’t deserve all that pain
and misery and yet he got it. He’s been keeping it quiet for almost a year. I
think I was the first person to find out about it. I hope I was. I couldn’t
bear it if someone else knew and hadn’t said anything. He needed help. His
well-being was more important than mine. Worrying about someone else was way
easier than worrying about myself. I didn’t deserve much. He was this caring
person. I was this jerk-off that didn’t give two shits about the world or
anyone else. But somehow, I felt obligated to help him. He meant that much to
me. I couldn’t watch him downfall. I didn’t know how I was going to help him
though. I know that a bunch of the treatment is self-help. I was so fucked.
I didn’t believe in therapy. But, if it was what it took to help Patrick, I was
willing to have him do it. I then freaked out. I worried whether he thought I
was being pushy with all this suggesting of therapy and whatever. But, I
couldn’t see him suffer. Not like this. Not in silence. He needed to know how
beautiful he is. How perfect. Should I talk to him tomorrow? What do I say? I
didn’t really know how these things work. I’d never known anyone with an eating
disorder but I knew the general idea of what one did and why. I didn’t want to
pry but I needed to know what his thought process was so we could go from
there.
I didn’t sleep at all that night. I tortured myself with anxiety. I worried
about what I should do for Patrick. And the time that I wasn’t freaking myself
out, I was watching him sleep, making sure he was sleeping. I watched the sun
come up and rise. It gleamed in our faces through the window and I felt Patrick
stir from under my arm. He rolled around to my side. I smiled at him. He smiled
weakly at me.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
“A bit,” he replied. I bit my lip. I stared into his deep blue eyes and sighed.
I needed to ask. The words were forcing themselves out of my mouth.
“Can…do you mind if we talk about it?” I asked. His smile disappeared and he
looked frustrated. He got up from the bed and scratched his head. I sat up.
“Look, I don’t want to pry but I just want to know what’s happening. I don’t
want you being all secretive. I don’t like watching you destroy yourself,” I
said desperately.
“And you think I want to? You think I like sitting over the toilet and forcing
my fingers down my throat? That I like worrying about my next meal and what I
need to eat?” he shot back. I looked away and sighed.
“I just…Patrick I can’t watch you take down yourself. It’s dangerous and I care
way too much about you to watch you suffer,” I explained.
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t just take a pill and make myself all better,” he
growled looking at the bottle of Ativan next to my bed. Anger shot through my
body.
“You don’t get to pull that on me. How dare you! It’s far from that fucking
simple,” I yelled. He put his hands up.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that this conversation was about you,” he snarled.
I clenched my fists. I couldn’t even speak.
“You…get out,” I said through my gritted teeth. He walked out of my room and
slammed the door. I was beyond the point of reason. I kicked my bedside table
and let out a yell. I punched my wall and my fist went straight through the dry
wall. The pain shot through my hand. I shook my hand and sat on my bed holding
my head. How did I become the fucking bad guy through all that? I was only
trying to be helpful. No one needs your fucking help. Stay out of other
people’s business. What makes you think you can help others when you’re a
nutcase over here? I let the thoughts flood in. I couldn’t fight them. I was
too angry and upset to fight. I felt myself breaking. The tears started forming
in my eyes and stinging. They fell onto my cheek. I was spiraling out of
control. Like I had control in the first place. The world was shouting in my
ear and I couldn’t see. I grabbed the Ativan bottle and struggled to open it.
Stupid fucking childproof tops. I finally forced the top open and shoved two
pills down my throat. I shut my eyes and hoped I would just fall into oblivion
and never come back. The darkness could pull me under. I didn’t care anymore.
I woke up a little while later and my parents had come home. They were freaking
about the upcoming trip. My mom was on the phone with my grandparents. She was
asking about the sleeping arrangements and apparently arguing about changing
their room. My dad came in my room and said hello to me. They were so
unobservant. He didn’t even notice the hole in my wall. I said hello back to my
dad and he left my room. I sighed and got myself off the floor. It was now noon
and I was still pissed off. I decided to go day drinking to add to my list of
bad decisions. I went to some scummy bar and ended up getting drunk off my ass.
Everything blurred and I can’t remember what happened but I ended up in bed
with some girl I didn’t know. I came to it after falling to the bed and fucking
her. Great. Perfect time to sober up. I was lying on her bed and watched her
roll over on her side and fall asleep. I needed to leave. I know it’s an
asshole move to pull but I didn’t know her name and I had no excuse to stay
anyway. I slid out of the bed and pulled my jeans back on and threw my shirt
on. I then grabbed my hoodie and snuck out of her apartment. It was now 11 at
night and I was so confused. How time could manage to pass so quickly when I
didn’t realize it. I walked down the quiet Chicago streets trying to figure out
where I was. I was looking around while searching for a cab to pick me up. I
ended up out by the lake somehow and walked to Oak Street beach. I sat on the
ledge of the concrete with my feet dangling above the water. It was fucking
freezing and I had no clue why I ended up here. The lake pushed the air toward
me, chilling me to the bone. I shivered and chucked pieces of ice into the
water. The ice stung and bit my hand as I picked up each piece and released it
into the abyss. I looked down at the dark water. How do people go in this water
for fun? Polar bear? No thanks. The thought of jumping in crossed my mind but I
brushed it off quickly.
I sat out looking at the water and hearing the occasional car pass for who
knows how long. It seemed like ages. I watched airplanes pass over head. I
noticed the stars gleaming in the sky. I lied back, feet still dangling over
the edge. The snow was cold on my back but I didn’t care. Although I was
freezing and losing feeling in different parts of my body, I was calm. I closed
my eyes.
I wasn't sure how much later, but I eventually felt someone shaking me awake.
It was a police officer telling me to get lost. I stood up and shook the snow
off of my jacket. My body was numb everywhere. My fingers were blue. That
wasn’t a good sign. I ended up walking to a small bar to warm up. My hands were
shaking as I pulled open the door. I looked at the clock as I went in. 12:49 it
read. I was out there for almost two hours. I sat down and ordered a coffee.
The bartender looked at me kind of funny but got me what I wanted. She probably
saw my face was red and my fingers were blue. I sipped the warm liquid slowly
and held it in my hands trying to regain feeling in my hands. I began looking
around the place and noticed the people in the place. Most of them were so
drunk they had passed out. I saw a blonde haired boy sitting at a table back in
the corner. Gee, that looks kinda like Patrick. Shit, it is Patrick. He was
passed out in the corner. Fuck. As much as I didn’t want to talk to him, I knew
I needed to. His parents were probably flipping shit. I walked over to the
booth and sat down next to him. I tapped him lightly. His head shot up. I could
smell the alcohol on him. I winced at the smell.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Patrick. How much did you have to drink?” I asked. He
put his hands up and finally realized who I was.
“You…you’re the last person I want to see,” he slurred.
“I know. But unfortunately, you’re going to have to deal with me considering
the fact your parents are going to fucking murder you if I drop you off like
this. So, tough luck,” I said. I helped him up. He didn't really argue much
considering he was wasted. I waved down a taxi and had him drive us to my
house.
“Why…why are you so cold?” Patrick asked. His eyes were closing.
“I slept outside,” I admitted.
“Oh, cool,” he said not realizing my truthfulness behind it. I rolled my eyes
and helped him out of the cab when we arrived at my house. We almost tripped up
the stairs because he wouldn’t pick up his feet. He laughed and I shushed him.
“Shut, the fuck, up. My parents are asleep. I can’t have you waking them,” I
hissed. He put a finger up to his lips and giggled. We walked into my room and
I lied him down on my bed, where he had been last night as well.
“Stay,” I ordered. I walked out of the room and tiptoed into my parents room.
They weren’t home. Again. Figures. I walked downstairs to get some water and
saw a note on the counter.
Pete, went to visit your aunt for the night. Be home in the morning. -Mom
Of course. I grabbed the water and went back up to my room. I set the water
down on the bedside table and Patrick pulled me down by my hand. He grabbed me
and started kissing me. I tried to pull myself off of him.
“No. We’re not doing this. You need to sleep and I’m still fucking pissed at
you,” I said. He didn’t listen and ran kisses up and down my neck. I was trying
to push him off of me but fuck. He was biting my neck and it felt so good. I
was trying to keep it together when a moan slipped out and I knew I was
screwed. I felt him smile up against my skin. He bit harder and I closed my
eyes. He pulled me in for a kiss and I agreed. My tongue was in his mouth. I
tasted the alcohol on his breath. He tasted like gin and some sort of gross
vodka. I was losing control. All reason went out the door. I grabbed the back
of his neck and ran my fingers slowly through his hair.
“Knew you wanted my bedhead,” he said.
“Shut up,” I mumbled through kisses. He tugged at my nipple through my shirt. I
gasped and pulled his shirt off. He returned the favor and ran kisses up and
down my chest. My eyes rolled back. He was beginning to unbuckle my jeans when
I stopped him. Auto-pilot had come on and I was animal. I wanted what I wanted.
I gave him a wicked look. He understood what I meant. He began kissing my neck
again as I unbuckled his jeans. I pulled down his jeans and saw his erection
beneath his boxers. I went down on my knees. I pulled down the boxers and took
him in by the head. I teased him and he let out a moan. He leaned back. I
laughed.
“I’m far from finished with you,” I growled. He eyed me lustfully. He put his
fingers in my hair and I took him in. I heard him gasp as he thrusted into me.
“Holy shit, Pete,” he choked out.
I gripped his waist and took him all the way in. I was gagging and holding back
tears but holy shit was I in a euphoric state. He thrusted faster and faster
until I heard him stuttering above me.
“Pete, I…I…” he moaned. I nodded and he comed. I swallowed and pulled off. He
fell onto the bed and I stood up and lied on the bed. His breathing was fast
and his face was red and sweaty. I didn’t say anything. I ran my fingers
through my hair realizing my mistake.
“I’m sorry,” he said. I looked over at him. He pulled up his boxers and grabbed
his shirt. He was sobering up a bit.
“I was a jerk to you. I shouldn’t have said the things I said to you. I just
got defensive. I know that doesn’t justify it. It’s…it’s just really fucking
hard for me to trust people and that’s one of the aspects of my life that’s
hard to go into,” he said hoarsely. I nodded.
“I get it,” I said.
“I’m just, really, fucking, sorry,” he said. I lied back with him and looked at
him. He was being sincere. I knew. I kissed him gently on the lips.
“I’m the same way. It just hurt me. But forgive and forget,” I said. He looked
sadly at me.
“Don’t worry about it. We’re fine. I just wish you would be more open with me,”
I said. He sighed and sat up. He ran his fingers through his hair.
“I just don’t feel like I’m worth it. I’m not perfect. I’m not skinny enough
and by limiting myself, I feel better,” he confessed.
“You are though. You are so fucking perfect. And I know you don’t see that. But
you are. You are so kind-hearted and funny and just this hell of a person and
you have no idea,” I explained.
“Well, then what’s it like with you?” he blurted. I could see he regretted
asking but I would answer him anyway. I didn’t mind.
“I don’t feel like I’m worth being saved,” I said. He didn’t say anything.
“When normal people see all these happy things with their life, I just don’t. I
have this constant sadness over my head and I can’t get rid of it. Sometimes
I’m okay but others it’s really fucking hard and I feel like giving up. But I
know I can’t. No matter how hard it is,” I said. I wandered over to him.
“And I think that’s what you need to do with yourself. I know it’s under
different circumstances but you need to tell yourself you’re perfect. You can’t
let these thoughts rule you. You’re bigger and better than them,” I said.
“It’s not that simple,” he murmured.
“I know. And I wish I could do more for you. But I think you need to talk with
someone. You need to get some help. I love you and I can’t have you suffering
alone,” I said.
“I love you too,” he said. I looked him in the eye and lost my train of
thought. I’m sure I was smiling.
“And that’s why I need you to get better,” I said. He nodded.
“I don’t believe in therapy but do you promise you’ll talk to someone? For me
please?” I asked. He nodded. I hugged him. I felt his head fall onto my
shoulder. I rubbed it and for a moment, I was happy.
***** Chapter 15 *****
A few days past and it was finally Christmas evening. I was eating dinner with
my parents as we watched the snow fall down outside. They had gotten me a
stereo, bass case, and laptop. I was grateful for what they had given me, even
though my mom wasn’t too pleased about the bass case. I could tell my dad had
suggested it and she was reluctant about the whole thing. She didn’t make a
scene about it and pretended she was fine with it, but I could see her
displeasure seeping through her pores. I didn’t care. I needed a new case and I
got it.
We finished eating and my parents were busy packing last minute things for my
grandparents house. I was sitting in my room watching the snow come down. I was
bored out of my mind. I missed playing my bass and jamming with the guys. I
couldn’t wait to see Andy and Joe again. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be until
the beginning of January sometime. Not like I didn’t enjoy all this time with
Patrick, it was great. I felt myself finding new ways to fall in love with him.
Which was toxic to me. I was falling and eventually you hit the ground. You
have to wake up. And I didn’t want to wake up.
You’re heading for a fallout. I can see it. Did anyone ask you? It doesn’t
matter if anyone asked me. I’m here.
I saw the little bottle of Ativan staring me in the face. No. I’m not heading
down that road again. I can’t. I picked up the bottle and walked into my
bathroom. I opened up the bottle and poured the pills down the sink. My hand
shook and I watched each little pill fall down into the drain. My stomach was
anxious. What have I done? What if I actually need them? What if I have a panic
attack? I quickly swiped up the pills that hadn’t fallen down the drain and put
them back into the case. I sighed. I really am pathetic.
I set the bottle down on my bedside table and checked my phone. Patrick, Joe,
and Andy. had texted me. I looked at Andy’s first.
Merry Christmas dude. Relatives driving me nuts. Can’t wait to start making
music again. After new years, I’m free.
Well, we have Andy back soon. Not Joe though. I looked at Joe’s next.
Happy Santa-breaks-into-your-house-and-gives-you-gifts-day man. Want to be
home. Say hi to trick for me.
I chuckled. I responded.
Will do. You too, man. We miss you.
And finally, I looked at Patrick’s.
Can you meet up?
Not the text I was expecting.
Dude, it’s Christmas.
I was confused. Why would he be asking about meeting up?
Please.
I was concerned. He wasn’t telling me anything. I knew my parents would be
pissed but I needed to see what was wrong.
Okay. Where are you?
I started to grab a jacket and put on my boots.
Glenbrook South.
What the hell is he doing there? I didn’t care. I ran down the stairs and
grabbed the keys. I heard my mom asking where I was going from upstairs while I
was closing the door to the garage but I didn’t answer. I got in the car and
began the drive to Glenview. My mind began to freak out. I was in full blown
panic mode. It was sleeting outside and the roads were slippery. No one was out
driving. I was on the highway alone driving down.
I got to GSHS and walked through the snow. I saw Patrick sitting underneath the
bleachers on the football field. I jogged over. I saw him curled up.
“Hey, are you okay?” I said kneeling next to him. I saw him shake his head. He
got up abruptly and stumbled a few feet away from me. He threw up and was
coughing. I walked over to him and patted him on the back. He was shaking
again.
“Don’t tell me…what did you take?” I asked. He chucked the bottle out of his
coat pocket. Ipecac. I sighed sadly. He fell into me. I felt him shaking
violently underneath me. I rubbed his head.
“Oh Patrick Stump. Why does the world have to treat you like shit?” I asked
glumly. He whimpered and continued shaking under me. His coughing was deep and
sounded painful.
“I know you don’t believe me, but you’re perfect. You don’t need to do this to
yourself. I know I don’t completely understand, but I hate seeing you hurt
yourself. The world would lose such a gift if they lost you,” I said. His
breathing was unsteady. I shifted for a second and felt something in my pocket.
I pulled it out and saw a little wrapped box.
“Oh yeah. I forgot about this. I got you this for Christmas. I know, shit
timing but here. Merry Christmas,” I said handing him the box. He sat up a bit
and opened the small box. He smiled weakly as he looked at the gift. He sniffed
and picked up the pick.
“A pick?” he asked shaking. I nodded.
“Look on the other side,” I said. He turned it over and saw the potential band
logo I had had put on the back.
“Holy shit, this is cool,” he said. He looked up at me. He hugged me.
“Thank you, for everything. I don’t deserve you. I love you,” he said into my
shoulder. I embraced him back.
“I love you too. You deserve the whole fucking world and more,” I said. I felt
him shed a few tears.
“I’m going to be there when you get better. I promise. I’ll always be here for
you. Band mates or not. Always,” I said.
“Do you promise?” he asked, his voice wavering.
“I promise,” I said sincerely. I started to stand up when he grabbed my ankle.
I looked down.
“Where are you going?” he asked desperately.
“I was assuming we could go somewhere where it’s warm so we don’t freeze our
asses off,” I said.
“Can we not go…?” he asked. I knew he was tired and weak.
“Let’s at least go to my car. You need some food and warmth,” I said. He nodded
slowly. I helped him stand up and we walked to my car. I turned on the heater
and grabbed a granola bar from the glove compartment. I handed it to him.
“I know it’s not Christmas feast, but it’s something,” I said. He took it
slowly. He unwrapped it and stared at it. He looked at me uncertainly. I
nodded. He took a small bite and chewed thoroughly.
“Good, keep doing that,” I said. He did. And he even finished the bar. I was
happy.
“Feel better?” I asked. He shrugged.
“I mean, not really. But I’ll be okay for now,” he said. I stroked his
forehead. I looked out at the snow.
“As much as I love this heat in my car, want to go to my house? My parents lit
a fire before I left and they are probably in bed by now. We could cuddle up,
drink some hot cocoa, and make out a bit. Also, I could play some of my
records. We could debate our favorite Foo Fighters songs,” I suggested. He
chuckled.
“That sounds nice,” he said. I smiled and turned on the car. We began to drive
to my house.
We got to my house and as promised, my parents were asleep and the fire was
dying. They were taking a risk with betting I’d be home to put out this fire.
Whatever, I was glad it was still going so we could use it. I made some hot
cocoa for us and Patrick lied down on a pillow in front of the fire. I grabbed
my bass from my room and brought it to the living room. I began fingering Song
2 by Blur. Patrick hummed along and I smiled. He was sipping his hot cocoa
slowly. I knew his brain was still thinking about rejecting it but I could tell
he was resisting. Progress is slow and earnest.
I put my bass down after a while and ended up cuddling up next to him. His head
was on my chest. I kissed the top of it. I caressed his forearm gently. My
other hand played with the strands of his hair.
“You and your fetish with my hair,” he said.
“It’s not a fetish. I’m just possessive. I like being the only one to be able
to fuck up your hair. Just means I was running my hands through it and you were
with me,” I admitted. He smirked at me.
“Wow. Not something I should have admitted,” I said.
“It’s cool,” he replied. I smiled. We lied there silently for a while.
“What do you think is going to happen with the band?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean, do you think we’ll get anywhere? Should we focus on it? Because I’ve
been considering dropping out of DePaul if we decide to go in that direction,”
I said.
“Pete, I don’t want you making and rash decisions…” he started.
“No, it’s fine. It’s my future. I hate college anyway. I’m lying to myself if I
say I have a future in Political Science. I’d rather try out being a musician
and fail at doing something I love than do something I hate for the rest of my
life,” I explained. I felt him nod.
“I agree. That makes sense. I can’t see myself doing anything else in my life,”
he said.
“I think we should go balls out on it. I will if you will,” I said.
“Deal. Let’s do it,” he said. My stomach was light and airy. I had no idea what
would come next. I didn’t care. Fuck it.
***** Chapter 16 *****
New Year’s Eve rang around and Joe and Andy would be coming home soon. My
parents were coming home the day after tomorrow. Joe had told me to make plans
about going to a recording studio in a couple of months. We had two or three
songs basically written out, we just needed a couple more. We also needed some
time to save up the money so it would give us some time to also finish up these
songs and write a couple more. Recording an album was going to be fucking
expensive and none of us had jobs. We were all broke high school/college
students and no way in hell any of our parents were going to pay for it. I
figured I should get a job anyway. I could save up for an apartment and move
out and stop being so dependent on my parents. It was getting to that point in
my life anyway where I needed to be independent. While looking at job openings
in the paper and online, I was researching a recording studio up in Wisconsin
that we could use. Unfortunately, there were no good studios nor companies in
Chicago, and while Wisconsin wasn’t much better, it was the best we could do
within a reasonable budget. I was writing down details and stuff when Patrick
texted me.
What are you doing?
I responded.
Not much. Just researching some studios we could use to record the album.
He texted back and I smiled.
Already hopping on that train are we? A bit narcissistic. Thinking we’re all
that.
I laughed.
Yep. We’re the best. Ever. Period. No, it’s just to get our name out there. If
this whole music thing is gonna take off, we need to put out music.
My phone buzzed.
I know. It’s just all happening so quickly.
I thought for a second before typing back.
Well, life tends to be like that. We should know that best of all.
His response was a few minutes after that. I probably hit home for him.
Isn’t that the truth.
Followed by:
Mind if I invade your house? My mom’s going out for a New Year’s party and I
don’t really feel like going to my dad’s place tonight.
I felt happy when he asked me that. Spending New Year’s together. Like the two
people left on Earth.
Sure, come join the party.
I set my phone down and put on my headphones. I put on Metallica’s self-titled
album and began immersing myself in the music. Patrick usually took a while to
leave his house while it was only a ten minute drive between our houses. I had
a good twenty minutes or half an hour till he would arrive. I could blow
through half their album. No problem. I needed to relax anyway. Despite not
having the extra pressure from my parents, I was just really stressed about
whatever. I also felt like even though they weren’t there, I could still feel
their presence. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the thoughts again.
I closed my eyes and dosed off for a bit. I woke up about an hour later. I had
three missed calls from Patrick. Shit, he’s probably freezing his ass outside
my front door. I ran downstairs and opened the door to see Patrick’s red cheeks
and him shivering a bit. He huffed a bit as he walked into the house.
“Where were you?” he asked, his voice wavering a bit.
“Sorry, I fell asleep. I forgot I had locked the door,” I said apologetically.
He looked annoyed but I pulled him into my arms. I tried to warm him up. I
pulled back for a second as I began to run up to my room.
“Hold on,” I said. I dashed up the stairs and grabbed my hoodie, his favorite
one. I brought it down to him. He was sitting on the couch and I sat next to
him and draped it over his shoulders. I saw him start to smile. He grabbed the
arms of it and pulled them closer to him.
“Asshole. You make it so hard for me to be mad at you,” he said. I grinned.
“I try,” I said. He nestled his head in my shoulder and I kissed the top of his
head. It was so easy to be like this. I felt like we could be apart for ages
and it would be so natural to just be here like this. So familiar and
comfortable. I was probably being naive but whatever.
“You know, Joe and Andy get home soon,” I said.
“Yeah I know. Back to work on the band,” he replied.
“The only bad thing is is we haven’t talked Andy into being our full time
drummer yet. He’s only ‘filling in’,” I said.
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem. You’re a convincing guy. You’ll figure
something out,” he said. I smiled.
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I said.
“No problem. It’s what I do,” he said. I wished we could stay forever like
this.
“Are you really willing to not go to college?” I asked. He looked up at me.
“It’s my future. Obviously don’t have to decide anything yet since I’m not
close to graduating yet but yeah kinda thinking about it,” he said.
“I know, it’s just, I’d feel really bad if this whole thing crashes and burns
and you have no backup plan nor education to be there in case of emergencies,”
I said trailing off.
“Coming from the guy who’s about to drop out of college like a semester from
graduating?” he said raising an eyebrow at me.
“Okay, don’t look at me as an example. If I fail at life, I can blame myself.
Plus, not gonna lie, the thought of your parents jumping down my throat for
your defiance doesn’t really sound pleasant…” I said. He laughed.
“They’re not gonna kill you, Pete. If anything, they’ll be pissed at me and I
wouldn’t rat you out. It’s my decision in the end ultimately,”
“Yeah, I don’t know, I guess. I’m just freaking out for no reason I guess.”
He smiled at me.
“Well, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle it. Even if the band breaks
up or doesn’t work out, I’m still sticking with music. Don’t need to go to
college for it anyway so,” he reassured. I gave him a half smile.
“Are you excited about recording?” I asked. He shrugged.
“I’m a bit nervous. Like, what if people don’t like my voice or what if it
doesn’t come out good?” he worried.
“Patrick, I guarantee they’re gonna love your voice. It’s so unique and you
don’t have to worry about that. And if it doesn’t come out good the first time,
we keep rerecording until we get it right and until we like it,” I explained.
He looked down and squirmed a bit.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just all jittery about having the world hear me,” he
mumbled.
“I promise they’ll love you, Trick.” He smiled and looked up at me.
“Where’d that come from?” he asked with a grin on his face.
“What?”
“You called me ‘Trick’.” I blushed.
“Oh, Joe texted it to me and I thought the name was cute. I figured it’s
shorter than saying Patrick so. Is it not a good nickname?” I asked. He nodded.
“It’s fine. I was just curious. It’s a good nickname. I like it,” he admired.
“Damn, should have taken the credit for it,” I said snapping my fingers
sarcastically. He chuckled.
“You’ll get there,” he said.
We sat there silently for a while until he spoke up again.
“I don’t want to seem like super invasive here, but when were you diagnosed
with your…”
“Depression?” I finished. He nodded. I sat back.
“About a year and a half ago. I hadn’t really known what was happening. I just
figured that everybody had that voice in their head that reminded them of their
insecurities and other shit like that. I was used to it. But one day, my mom
and I got in a fight and I ended up breaking down over something or another, I
can’t remember. I ended up admitting I’d been having these troubling thoughts
and she took me to a doctor. There and then I got diagnosed. Well, that and the
whole almost overdose on Ativan…” I said. He looked at me sadly.
“That, I’d prefer not to get into,” I said.
“No, no, that’s fine,” he said hesitantly.
“Please, don’t do that,” I said. He looked confused.
“Do what?” he asked.
“Look at me like that. Like I’m this fragile object that if you hold it or
touch it the wrong way, I’m going to break at any moment and go crazy and like
cut myself or something,” I said looking away. I sighed.
“Pete, I didn’t mean…” he tried. I closed my eyes.
“I know you didn’t. It’s just, when I got back from the hospital, everyone,
including my own parents just treated me differently. No one knew what to do or
say around me. It was so alienating. I didn’t even feel like a human being. I
felt like I was in a cage and people were observing my reactions to certain
things, waiting for something to tip me over so they could clear the room,” I
vented. He bit his lip.
“And I can’t jump on you for this because I feel like I’m bound to treat you
like that too at some point because of your eating disorder but I’m doing my
best to not because I know how fucking annoying it is when people do it to me
but I know people don’t know any better and-“
“Hey, okay, okay, okay. Calm down,” Patrick said quieting me down. He gripped
my arms and looked me in the eye.
“We aren’t perfect. I’m not, you’re not. And I know that feeling of being a
china doll and how much it sucks. How much people shove you aside because it’s
easier not to deal with you than it is to be uncomfortable briefly. But I think
that’s what makes us work beautifully. We get it. We may not have the same
exact thoughts or actions, but we’re fucked over in the head. The same messed
up brain chemistry. The same feelings of hopelessness. And it sucks. But as you
told me, we can get through them. And we’re going to. You and me. We’re going
to push past this horribleness and life will go on,” he said. I looked at him
glumly. He tried to smile.
“I promise. You promised me and I promise you. We can do this, no matter how
impossible it seems,” he encouraged while holding my hand. He kissed my cheek
and I guided his lips over to mine. We kissed sweetly. His lips tasted like egg
nog (how festive) and held me in close. I felt safe. I felt safer than I had in
my whole life. Acceptance. Safety. Comfort. Love. Everything was here and now.
Indulging in these moments was becoming more and more enjoyable.
Sometimes, the little things in life are the big things. The things that really
mattered. The things that we brush off as typical become the things we cherish
most and we take for granite. The people we love, the passions we love, the
things we have. And I’ve come to realize this more and more as life passes me
by and drags me along. But it’s not about getting dragged along. It’s about
getting better. It’s about being happy. It’s about making yourself better.
Fixing your problems and not suffering. So in that moment, I saw hope. I saw
hope for Patrick and I. We’d be our group of misfits and sure we had suffered
and we might suffer a bit more. But I saw a glimmering ray of light. We were
going to go on. We were going to get better.
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