The Music Or The Misery (FOB FanFic)

Prologue

SCHEDULE AS OF MAY 3, 2015:
- MON - Wentz Motel (Pete Wentz Imagine Story)
- TUE - Run Away With Me (FOB FanFic)
- WED - The Music Or The Misery (FOB FanFic)
- THU - The World's Not Waiting For You (FOB FanFic ft. Brendon Urie)
- FRI - Battle Of The Bands (FOB FanFic ft. Panic! At The Disco)

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Patrick was standing in a doorway, looking into the dark room where his guitars were kept, collecting dust. He leaned against the threshold and sighed.

That's when there was a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. It was his girlfriend, Mara. They'd been dating for about a year and a half. She used to be a writer before the ban was placed.

"What are you doing?" Mara asked him.

"Nothing," He murmured, grasping the doorknob and closing the door to the room.

"Why don't you play me a song?" She suggested, the corner of her dark red lips curling upward into a smirk.

"I can't," Patrick objected, brushing past her and walking down the hallway, "I'd get arrested."

"But what if you played it quietly?" She jogged up behind him and wrapped her arms around his front, stopping him in his tracks. "I miss hearing you sing, Patrick. I miss hearing you play."

"I do too, Mara, but I can't," He slipped out of his girlfriend's hold and made his way downstairs. She followed him. "Music was made illegal, remember?"

"Yeah but have you ever thought about how stupid that is? Music is illegal. That's almost as stupid as saying murder is legal."

"Mara, stop." He spun around so he was facing her. She froze. "You're being stupid. I don't make up the laws, the government does. Now please, stop asking me to play you a song. I'm not going to. I would if I could but I can't. So would you please just stop!"

Mara hung her head.

Patrick heaved a sigh, a pang of guilt washing over him for yelling at her like that, but he didn't apologize. He walked past her and into the kitchen, where he opened the refrigerator and picked out a bottle of vodka. He looked around for a glass when he decided to just drink from the bottle.

Mara rushed into the kitchen, asking him, "Patrick, what's happened to you?" She saw what he was doing and frowned, "Really?"

"Really."

She scoffed, "What the hell, Patrick? You used to be so...so passionate about things, and now you're acting like you couldn't care less and that drinking is your only outlet!"

"Because it is my only outlet and I don't care. Don't you get it, Mara?" He snapped at her, slamming the bottle down on the counter angrily, "Music was the only thing I cared about in life and the government ripped that away from me. My life is nothing without music."

"Then why won't you play me a goddamn song?"

"BECAUSE I'LL GET ARRESTED!" Patrick shouted at her, approaching her, "IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? FOR ME TO GET ARRESTED? DO YOU WANT ME TO END UP LIKE FUCKING JOE?" She averted her gaze to the side. "WELL?"

"I just want you to do what you love, babe, that's all..." She retorted softly, crossing her arms.

"WELL I CAN'T! BECAUSE THERE'S A STUPID FUCKING LAW OUT THERE THAT SAYS ANYONE WHO PLAYS MUSIC WILL GET ARRESTED OR KILLED. DO YOU WANT ME TO GET KILLED, MARA?"

"No..."

"THEN STOP TRYING TO GET ME KILLED!"

"I'm not-"

"I don't care. I'm done having this conversation. We're done having this conversation." He turned away from her and went back over to the counter, where he picked up the vodka bottle and put it to his lips again.

The floors creaked as Mara shook her head and left the kitchen, walking out into the foyer, where she slipped a sweatshirt over her head and opened the door.

Patrick glanced over his shoulder, "Mara?"

The front door slammed shut.

He set the bottle down and rushed out into the entryway, opening the front door and seeing Mara getting in her car.

"Mara!"

She got in and started the car up, looking over her shoulder before backing out of the driveway and speeding away. She didn't once look back at Patrick.

He ran out to the end of the driveway and watched as she disappeared around the corner. Patrick ran his fingers through his hair and swallowed hard.