Teach Me Mr. Wentz | >> Peterick AU <<

Saturday

[Patrick's POV]
Friday went pretty quick, like, it was weird. One minute I got to school, other minute I'm gone. Yet, now it was Saturday. I was sitting out on the porch with Pete's gutair, I was strumming a song I had recently written, it was called Miss Missing You. When I wrote it, I kept my stupid mother in my mind.

I said in the song that, "Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger." Meaning, before Pete came along, who I refer to in the song as things getting better, the darkness, known as my mom and all the bad things that happened, has to get bigger.

Before the good stuff comes along, the crappy stuff has to come, yet soon it will pass over. Also, my mom, being honest I'd probably take a bullet for her, because no matter what she does, she's still my mom, she never used to be like this either. I know that some where inside her she's still the mom I used to know.

Like I was saying, I would take a bullet for her, but she's behind the trigger, the one who is hurting me. This song means a lot to me.

I started to play it, then began to sing. "Don't panic, no not yet, I know I'm the one you want to forget-get, que all the love to leave my heart, it's time for me to fall apart. Now you're gone, but I'll be okay, your hot whisky eyes have fanned the flames, maybe I'll burn a little brighter tonight, let the fire breathe me back to life." I took a breath and began the chorus.

"Baby you were my picket fence, I miss missing you now and then. Cholrine kissed, summer skin, I miss missing you now and then, sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger, the person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger, woah, we're fading fast, I miss missing you now and theeeeeeeeennnnnnn, now and theeeeeeeeennnn." The small breeze whipped across my face and blew my hair slightly, my fedora got carried away with it, I wanted to go get it, but I kept singing.

"We're making eyes at this husk, around my heart-" I was suddenly cut off by a tall boy with dark hair walking onto the wooden porch. "I think you dropped this." He said shyly, handing my fedora back to me. I smiled at him in return and put the hat back on, even if I was confused why he was here. Wait! Isn't he Brendon's cousin or something? He looked familiar.

"I'm, Dallon." He said, extending his arm so I could shake his hand. "Patrick." I replied, now setting the gutair down. Dallon grinned. "Nice to meet you Patrick, I think you might be the kid my cousin, Brendon, always talks about." I nodded. "That's me. How could you tell?" I asked, he shrugged. "He told me that you live with Mr. Wentz. Also, the fedora." I nodded.

"Well, um, is Pete here?" He asked, I nodded. "He's inside trying to fix his broken-ass dishwasher." I said, I then stood up and began to walk to the door. "I can show you where he is, if you'd like?" Dallon nodded. "I'd like that very much." He replied, in a posh British accent, both of us laughed and I led him inside.

We walked to the kitchen where Pete was on the floor cursing like a sailor at his washing machine. "Come on you fucking son of bitch! Work, damnit, work! I hate this piece of shit! What the fu-" He exclaimed, I cleared my throat and he turned around, he stopped shouting at this point.

"You have a visitor." I stated, gesturing to Dallon who waved in return. Pete smiled and set down the tool he had in his hand. "Hey Dallon." He said, Dallon blushed. "Oh, um, hey Mr. Wentz." He replied bashfully, Pete rolled his eyes. "Call me Pete, in school I'm Mr. Wemtz, we're not at school the last time I checked." He grinned, and Dallon did the same.

"Okay than, Pete." Dallon said, Pete began to walk over to where we were. "Patrick, Dallon and I are going for lunch, we'll be back around two. See you then." He gave me a quick hug and began to head to the door with Dallon close beside.

I remebered I still have the gutair on the porch, so I ran to the door, opened it, and grabbed the instrument. I walked back into the house, gutair, in hand and walked up stairs. I arrived in the recording room and figured I would do some exploring.

I walked over to a pile of stuff and began to dig. All I really found were gutair picks, music sheets, and crumpled up pieces of paper that had lyrics on them, I uncrumpled one and it read: Teenagers scare the living shit outta me, they could care less as long as someone will bleed, so darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose, maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me. I set the paper down, I had never heard that song before, he must have never gotten around to finishing it.

I kept digging and finally, my hand hit something hard, like metal. I looked at what it was, and couldn't believe my eyes.

{Hey you guys. Thanks for over 1k reads! That means a lot to me, you guys are amazing. Hope you have a great day.~Abbey ^_^}