When It All Goes To Hell (Patrick Stump Imagine Story)

When You First Met

Author's Note: Okay, so I know I've posted a few random imagines, but this update is actually for the story. I do have more random imagines coming up but I feel like I should post them later and once more of the actual story is out. So, all I wanted to say was that this is a continuation from What Brings You Here Today? and I hope you enjoy! -Rachael

Eight Years Ago...

You and your friend (the same one who suggested that you and Patrick go see the marriage counselor) were sitting at the lunch table in your high school's cafeteria. She was going off about some band. You zoned out, though, not really interested in what she had to say. But you did catch that the band's name was Fall Out Boy.

"...and I'm going to their concert this weekend and I want you to come with me," You hear her say. You look up from your chocolate milkshake that you were dipping your french fries in.

"What?"

"Yeah! You never get out of the house, (Y/N). Hell, you barely come to school because you don't want to leave the house." You roll your eyes and go back to eating your lunch. "Please, (Y/N)?" She begs, "I don't want to be the only one there."

"If it's a concert, then you won't be the only one there," You mutter under your breath.

"I might be. They're a new band and I'm only going because my mom's forcing me to go." She crosses her arms over chest.

"Why?"

"It's her friend's son's band and she says she thinks it would be nice of me to go and support them. Stupid, if you ask me. The guy and I aren't even friends. But she said if I didn't go that she would take away the TV in my bedroom, and you know how I feel about that."

You chuckle, "Okay, say I do agree to go with you, not saying that I am, but if I do; what kind of music do they even play? What if I don't like it?"

"Girl, I'm probably not going to like it either." The two of you laugh. "So will you come with me or not?"

You sigh, "I don't see why not..."

She squeals in delight, "Thank you!"

"Don't mention it," You mumble, the corner of your lip curling up ever so slightly.

*****

It was Saturday night, the night of the concert. At first you didn't want to go, and you still didn't really want to go, but it was too late to cancel. And you knew your mom wouldn't let you stay home because she wanted to get you out of the house more, and your step dad, who was usually cool about things and let you do whatever you wanted as long as it wasn't dangerous, wasn't worth convincing either because he'd just take your mom's side. So there you were, Saturday night, staring into your closet as you tried to pick out clothes to wear to this concert.

New band, You thought to yourself, A new band whose name was Fall Out Boy. And your friend's mom's friend's son is in that band.

You make the assumption that you wouldn't need to dress up sophisticated, something you weren't very fond of doing, based on the band's name. So you pick out a pair of skinny jeans and a white v-neck shirt that you pair with a green military jacket that your biological dad gave you for your birthday about a year ago. It wasn't really your thing, military style clothing, but you decide to wear it that night simply because, why not?

That's when a car horn sounds outside of your house. It's your friend. You grab your shoes and rush downstairs, while at the same time trying to put your shoes on. You successfully make it down the stairs without tripping and call to your mom and step dad that you were leaving.

You hop into your friend's car that she got for her sixteenth birthday and buckle up.

"You ready?" She asks you with a smile.

"Ready as I'll ever be," You reply, smiling back.

*****

You arrive at the place the concert was being held at and you see that there is a good amount of people there - not too many, but not too little.

"Ugh, I already don't want to be here," Your friend whines.

"But you just got here," You retort.

"Exactly."

You laugh.

Just then, your friend's name is called. The two of you turn around and see a guy - not much older than you and your friend - approaching you. He has longer-than-normal blonde hair with short side burns and green eyes; he isn't the skinniest of guys, but he's nowhere near fat. "My mom told me you were coming," He says when he reached you and your friend. He meets your gaze and a baffled look appears on his face. "Who's this?"

"This is my friend, (Y/N)," Your friend introduces you, "(Y/N), this is Patrick."

You do a small wave of the hand. You were never really good at being social and meeting new people. He waves back.

"How long do you think you and your band is going to play?" Your friend asks. "Because I have a life, you know, and this is kind of ruining my plans." You can't believe how rude your friend is being to this seemingly nice guy.

Patrick shrugs his shoulders, "I don't know. Half hour, maybe an hour?" She groans. "Oh don't be like that, (Y/F/N). You didn't have to come if you didn't want to."

"I actually didn't have a choice," Your friend replies to him haughtily. "My mom made me come here."

"Mhmm, suuuuure," Patrick replies, just before a guy with ink black hair and a dark ring of eyeliner around his eyes came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, informing him they were ready to go on.

Patrick nodded his head in understanding and bid farewell to you and your friend, suggesting if you didn't mind, to stay later to go out with him and the band. It was his attempt to make up for your friend's mom forcing her to come see them. Your friend was hesitant to agree. As for you, you just stared at him, entranced, mesmerized. She finally agreed and Patrick was dragged away.

You snap out of the daze you had drifted off into when your friend jerks you in the direction of the crowd.