It's hard to say 'I do', when I don't (Part 4/4)
Title: It’s hard to say I do, when I don’t (Part 4/4)
Pairing: Pete/ Patrick
Rating: PG-13
Author: Me!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. This [unfortunately] never happened. They belong to each other.
Author's note: If you guess the fall out boy inside joke, you get a cookie.
Summary: "Walking helped me clear my head, but Penny’s constant yapping at anything that moved reminded me of Pete when he’s feeling bitchy. "
Day One
Patrick’s P.O.V.
In the morning, I completely forgot that the WKWG people were doing an interview over the radio with me. I like radio interviews. You can just sit at home and pretend everything’s perfect. Like I happened to be doing. I was really, really looking forward to lying in bed all day. Of course, Penny is a dog, and dogs need to be walked, so into some [decent] clothes I went and out the door.
Pete’s P.O.V.
Hearing Patrick on the radio, all happy, (or at least sounding happy), was weird, considering yesterday’s events. Him, acting like everything was hunky-dory between us. Hemmy yanked the shades open and sunlight streamed in. Ok, ok, I’ll get up. Not like I want to.
Patrick’s P.O.V.
Walking helped me clear my head, but Penny’s constant yapping at anything that moved reminded me of Pete when he’s feeling bitchy. I decided to go home. The remainder of the day was spent blasting David Bowie so loud that the neighbors called the police, thinking about Pete, sporting my new fashion of waking up with pants off at four in the afternoon, and baking. I bake when I’m nervous, scared, anxious, sad, et cetera. It helps me figure things out. Around eleven, when I was all "baked-out", I reached for the phone. "Don’t!! He betrayed your trust!", my inner voice yelled. So I didn’t.
Day Two
Pete’s P.O.V.
Today, I sat down and read the entire Harry Potter series in one sitting. Except for bathroom and snack breaks. Sure, it took like, eight hours, but now I can say I’ve read them. I also wrote a lot. Maybe I can form these nonsensical words into a half-decent song. God, I miss Patrick.
Patrick’s P.O.V.
Talked to Mom and Joe today. Didn’t tell them what happened. More people I’m lying to. Wonderful.
Day Three
Pete’s P.O.V.
I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. (There are dark circles under my eyes to prove that.) I decided to call Ashlee. She was one of the few people I’m closest to, even though we broke up. I haven’t talked to her in a while, since she started dating Nick Lachey. We’ve both been busy with our music.
"Hello?" At the sound of her voice, I just poured my heart out. It was good to be honest with someone, instead of lying to myself. She said I should call Patrick. I reluctantly dialed Patrick’s number.
Patrick’s P.O.V.
I couldn’t take this.
Pete’s P.O.V.
Just as I called Patrick, he called me. I hit answer, not sure what to expect.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"Listen, I’m sorry I stormed out like that. I shouldn’t have." Patrick apologized.
"Why are you apologizing?? I was the one who made out with Evan!"
"Well, I shouldn’t have left like that. We should have talked about this, not avoided each other like we’re in high school again." I felt myself blushing in embarrassment, for I hadn’t stopped him from leaving in the first place.
"Yeah. Well you shouldn’t be apologizing. It was entirely my fault."
"Why didn’t you call me? I know you can’t stay mad at anyone for long."
"Hell, I was just about to, when you called me."
"Strange. So what have you been up to?"
"I read a lot. Slumped around. Nothing worth discussing."
"I went into a baking frenzy. I have so much food, I don’t know what to do with it!" I laughed. That was Patrick, all right.
"Do you want to come here and help me get rid of some of it?"
"No." Silence. He was so gullible. "Of course I do!"
"K." We were quiet for a moment, enjoying each other’s company, I suppose.
"So I’ll be there in like, half an hour."
"See you then." I called Ashlee back and smiled for practically the first time in days. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a wreck. I hadn’t combed my hair since...Monday or Tuesday. I was in need of a shower. The circles around my eyes seemed to get darker with every blink, and I had several days’ worth of stubble.
Patrick’s P.O.V.
Pete had put on way too much cologne, but I couldn’t have cared less. It was just good to have him back. I never realized how much I relied on him.
"So, let’s eat!"
Pete wolfed down the lasagna like he hadn’t seen food in days. Had he?
Pete’s P.O.V.
"Oh yeah." I reached into my back pocket. "I wrote you a song." I tossed the folded piece of paper at Patrick. He caught it and hastily unfolded it. As he read it, I could see the little wheels spinning in his head, configuring all of the drum beats and guitar chords.
Patrick’s P.O.V.
"Last year’s wishes are this year’s apologies,
every last time I come home.
I take my last chance,
to burn a bridge or two.
I only keep myself this sick in the head
because I know how the words can get you."
Well, that was certainly true.
"We’re the new face of failure,
prettier and younger but not any better off.
Bullet proof loneliness,
At best, at best..."