The Last Of The Real Ones // Patrick Stump

19. I'm Out Of My Mind

After Patrick and I showered and got dressed again, we went into the kitchen and he began to make dinner, despite my offers to make it instead.

I sat at the counter as I watched him cook, just admiring his good he was at it.

He looked up at me, noticing my gaze. "You okay?" He Asked softly.

"Yeah." I Said, smiling a bit. "How did you get so good at cooking?"

He laughed a bit. "Well," he mumbled. "A few years ago I cooked as a hobby."

"Well, you sure got good at it, Stump." I chuckled a little.

His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink as he smiled. "Thank you."

There was a bit of silence as I continued to watch him, just trying to keep my mind off of everything that was happening.

First I get the band kicked off of DCD2, I might've ruined Pete and Patrick's relationship further, and now my dad is dead, and all in only a few hours.

Of course, there was still one good thing that came from this, and that was Patrick becoming my boyfriend.

In a time of mess, at least I still had him. And I always would.

I mean, I hopefully would.

After we ate the dinner that Patrick had made, which was something French I couldn't for the life of me remember the name of, we went to sit in his backyard for a while, enjoying the fresh summer air as the sun began to go down.

We didn't talk much. I think both of us were still trying to wrap our heads around today.

And honestly, I was thinking about what we did after we came home.

Of course, I had done it with other guys before, but I was never in love with them like I was with Patrick. Something about doing it with him made me fall in love with him even more, if possible.

I swallowed a little as I glanced over at Patrick, who was admiring the sunset with a small smile on his face.

"Patrick?" I Asked quietly, making him look over at me. I played with my hands a little, a soft sigh escaping my lips. "Thank you.."

He furrowed his eyebrows a little. "For what?"

"I mean, for being such a good guy, I guess.." I mumbled. "I've kinda put you through some crap."

He bit his lip. "It's really nobody's fault." he shrugged a little. "I think everyone's really stressed...not that it gives anyone an excuse to kick someone off of a record contract.."

He sighed. "I should call Pete." He said. "I just...don't know if I'm ready."

"I get it." I nodded, looking over at the sunset. He suddenly stood, and I looked at him. "Wait, where are you going?"

He looked at me. "I should do it now, shouldn't I?"

I stood as well. "I mean, if you're not ready.." I started.

He shook his head a little. "If he lets you back..." he said. "Maybe after the funeral, we can meet the deadline for an album."

"We?" I Asked, a small smirk growing on my lips.

He bit his lip, blushing a little. "I mean...if you want me to help out, of course."

I chuckled a little. "Of course I do, Patrick." I Said. "Just...only call him if you think you're truly ready."

He took a deep breath, seeming to be thinking for a moment.

He finally nodded, looking over at me. "I need to fix this."

I nodded as well, and he stepped up to the back door, opening it. He let me go inside first, then followed me in, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket.

I went and sat down on the couch so I wouldn't disturb him, silently praying that the call would go well and wouldn't just make things worse.

I heard Patrick say, "Hey, Pete," And went completely silent, hoping I'd be able to hear some of the conversation.

"No...she's here.." he said. "Well, I mean, she's really heartbroken. Yeah."

I heard the tiniest bit of speaking on the other line, then Patrick sighed.

"You really hurt her. Wait, what? Pete, what're you talking about?" Patrick Asked, his voice beginning to sound a bit panicked. "Don't tell like that, just calm down. Please, don't.."

Suddenly, Patrick ran into the room, a look of complete fear on his face. I guessed that Pete had hung up, because Patrick had his phone back in his pocket.

"Patrick, what's wrong?" I Asked, standing as he ran over and unlocked the door frantically.

"Pete...He's.." he mumbled quickly. "He's saying stuff..."

He ran out the door, and I quickly ran after him as he began making his way to his car. However, he tripped on the curb, falling and hitting the concrete hard.

He let out a groan, quickly picking himself up as I approached him.

"Patrick, Wait.." I started. "What's happening?"

"I'll tell you in the car." He said, opening the driver's side door and getting in.

Without thinking twice, I ran over to the passenger door, getting in and buckling myself in.

Patrick began driving, and I looked over at him worriedly, seeing his pale hands tremble and how unsteady his breathing was.

"Hey, Hey.." I tried to calm him down a little. "What's wrong, Patrick?"

He swallowed. "He-he's talking like he did that...time.." his voice broke, and tears began to stream down his face. "T-that time he attempted suicide..."