Internet Scales (Patrick/Pete)

34 - Relapse

Hey. I have started writing a sequel to this but i don't know if i will post it or not. I had a really rough night last night and almost deleted all of my work. I most probably will post it but i'm not sure. The reason for not posting would probably be, as i'm writing it at the moment and feel utterly crap, that i'd put my emotions into the characters and its not good enough to post. I tend to do that a lot as I used to write a story with my friend where it was okay to do that cause I based the character on me so it was okay. Anyway, nobody's gonna read this so i don't know why i'm bothering. have a good day, jess

Patrick's POV

We were releasing our first EP the day after Joe's birthday. Malcolm had managed to get us a gig for tonight. We were all really pumped. It was in a pub and our first gig. Pete woke me up at ten, expecting me to cooperate, because we needed to practice. 

Joe comes into the practice room and I was sitting on my amp, coffee next to me, tuning my guitar. Pete was picking away at his bass and Andy was in the shower. Joe yawns loudly and I smirk.
"What are you smiling at Stump?" He asks.
"Nuthin'" Pete looks up and smiles at me. Joe was oblivious in the morning to pretty much everything. He has to wake up naturally and then give him an hour and he can then mostly function properly. We had woken him up half an hour ago and he just got coffee when he realized that nobody else was gonna get him any. He sits on one of Andy's old stools, Pete on the other one. I got the amp as I had the bigger amp, as they said, when it was just a little bigger than theirs. We messed around, playing to ourselves until Andy came back.
"You guys ready?" He says, sitting behind his kit.
"We've been ready for an hour" I say. "Well apart from Joe, who's still half asleep"
"Oi, Pat, shut up!"
"Don't call me Pat!"
"Pat Pat Pat Pat Pat Pat Pat" He chants. I glare at him. They boys all knew that I hated it when someone called me Pat. It was Patrick, Patty I could just stand, or 'Trick maybe. But Patrick. 
"Don't you freakin' dare..." I put my guitar on the floor and start getting up.
"Patrick..." Pete looks at me. "Don't" I look back at him. Joe was freakin' dead. He opened his mouth again.
"Pat Pat Pat Pat" He grins at me. He was driving me up the wall, and fast. I leave the room, no, leave the house, slamming the door behind me. 

I know I had over-reacted but he knew I hated it. I didn't plan on going back for a while. I didn't care that we had a gig tonight, I didn't want to see that ass for a while. I walked for ages, until I ended up at the old McDonalds I went to with Pete. I knew only one thing I could do when I was upset. I push the door and walk up to the counter, I was early so it was pretty empty. Even most Americans weren't that low. I was. 
"Hey, could I get four cheeseburgers, a large portion of fries and a chocolate milkshake please" I handed the guy my money and took my food to a table. I get my phone out of my pocket and I had loads of worried texts from Pete. If I told him where I was, he would come immediately.

Pete: Patrick come back
Pete: Patrick, he didn't mean anything by it
Pete: We need you
Pete: We need to do this tonight, smash it and we can't do that without you
Pete: Patrick
Pete: Please just let me know where you are
Patrick: McDonalds
Pete: I'm coming

I had eaten three cheeseburgers and more than half the fries and had a tear stained face. My head was on the table and I heard someone sit opposite me. 

"Patrick, come on" Pete coaxes, his voice soft. I lift my head up and he wipes my tears with a clean napkin. He didn't look disappointed as I thought he would have been, just a little upset. 
"I failed" I say, hiccuping. Pete shakes his head. 
"Patrick, what Joe said was out of order, he should have stopped. I had no idea it would bring you back here... it's been so long" He looks me in the eyes. 
"I'm not performing tonight"
"Patrick..."
"Nope, I'm not"
"Just come home and-"

"No"

"Patrick just freakin' listen will you?!" I look at Pete. He hadn't shouted in ages, he rarely raised his voice, ever. Some people looked over to us. Pete smiled at them.
"Patrick, I'm sorry. This," He picks up the wrappers on the tray, "is not healthy. You've been doing so well. You're what, about thirteen stone now?"
"Thirteen and a half" I mutter.
"Exactly. Please, please, please, don't fall back into old habits. I know you're stressed with the EP and the gig" I open my mouth to speak " That you don't want to play but please." My mind stopped racing so fast. I was so dumb. 

Pete takes me out, leaving what food I had left on the table. I felt heavy. I knew I had over eaten. I felt like throwing up. We sit in the park on the swings for a while. I tell Pete about my thoughts and my stresses and everything. I knew I'd have to tell him the truth sometime. We moved to the slide, just sitting on the top of it. 
"Pete... I've run out of anti-depressants" I break into tears, he holds me. 
"Why didn't you tell me Patty?" I shrug and hiccup. "I'll take you to the doctors tomorrow, I can't see my best friend like this."
"I don't want to see the doctor again. She scares me."
"We'll just get you more pills, okay?" He tells me. I still wasn't sure. I didn't want to go, that's why I hadn't told him. I felt worse, suicidal even. I had failed. I was a failure and I had never thought any better of myself.