The Emo Mafia

•Intro•

Cold metal brushes against Pete's temple unexpectedly while he sat at his desk, waiting for an important call. It was unexpected but he's developed a good pokerface and can hide well behind it. He doesn't need to see the other person because he already knows who it is, he can always tell. He chuckles to himself, he didn't think Red had the heart.

"What are you gonna do with that, huh?" He gets up from his desk chair to face the younger man, gun still aimed steadily at his forehead. "You sure you know how to use that thing, Red?" Pete smirks.

He doesn't answer, a determined expression on his face but Pete can see something else in his eyes. Something that says he's unsure. But he cocks the gun anyway, causing Pete's smug look to disappear and he gets a little more serious. The heavy clicking sound echoed through his ears like a harsh ringing.

"Okay, pull it. Pull the trigger, pretty boy." He grits out, pressing his forehead against the cold barrel. "Go ahead, do it. I shoulda been dead a long time ago. C'mon, Patty, shoot me."

The only move Patrick makes is the slight twitch of his trigger finger. He's hesitating and it's costing them both time, Pete could've been dead ten times by now if Patrick wasn't letting his thoughts get in the way. He needs to make a decision before they both end up buried six feet under.

"What's stoppin' ya? Right here, right between the eyes." Pete points directly to his own forehead where the barrel is against his skin. This is where he'd want any bullet to be if he had to choose. Whether it be from Patrick or someone else. Quick, painless, he wouldn't even notice he'd died until long after it's already too late. Over and done with before he realizes what he's asking for.

He's getting fed up, if Patrick won't decide then Pete'll do it for him. Before his anger turns into sadness and betrayal. Before his heart interferes. "Pull the goddamn trigger, Patrick!"