The Opportunity of a Lifetime

Chapter 71 (Patrick's POV)

I drive Cheryl, Pete, and Hailey in silence, staring at the road ahead of me.

Why is everyone getting hurt?

A war strikes behind my eyelids, but I refuse to let anyone else see. Why are we all having such bad luck? It isn't fair that wherever we go something bad happens. I worry for Joe, for Andy, for Gracie. What if she's the next one to be targeted? I don't think I could live with myself if-

"Patrick! You missed the exit," Pete shouts over my screaming thoughts, jerking me back to reality.

"Shit," I mutter, finding a place to turn off.

Hailey reaches over from the passenger's seat and rests her hand on my knee. I look over at her. She doesn't say anything, doesn't tell me everything's going to be okay, because we don't know if it will be. She just tells me with her eyes, that no matter what, she'll be here.

I smile at her, turning my attention back to the road. Its silent from then on.

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I am honestly relieved that the hospital we are in doesn't have any weird male doctors hitting on me.

I am not relieved that one of my best friends are in the hospital bed with a cast on their wrist and a black and blue face.

None of us have really said anything, were just grateful that were together. Gracie jumped in my arms as soon as I stepped in the door, whispering quite loudly, "Andy has been kissing Joe's boo-boo's."

She wasn't wrong. At this moment Andy is scooted in his chair as close as he can get to Joe, kissing his good hand, making me want to barf cuteness everywhere.

"What happened?" Cheryl asks the question we've all been thinking, and Joes stance stiffens.

"Um, can we talk about it later?"

"Uh, sure," I say awkwardly, wondering what could have happened.

We hear a knock on the door, and the doctor comes in. I read his name tag, which says, "Dr. Armstrong". He looks so familiar...

"Hello, everyone. How are you doing, Joseph?"

"Well, I'm still alive, so I guess I'm pretty good," Joe answers, chuckling darkly and coughing. Dr. Armstrong smiles.

"Good. I have some good news: you're good to go home today. We just need to check on your cast in a couple months, and maybe some ice to your face, and of course lots of rest. Do you have any questions for me?"

Joe shakes his head, but then raises his hand. "Uh, can I put on different clothes so my asscheeks aren't hanging out as I walk?"

Dr. Armstrong laughs, and nods. "Your clothes are in that cabinet."

He turns to leave, but then stops. "Also, Ms? I like your eyeliner," he tells Cheryl, and that's when it hits me.

"HOLY SHIT!" I screech involuntarily, feeling the fangirl flowing within me.

Everyone stares at me as if I'm crazy. Well, I am, but... this... he's...

"Y-you're... I mean... You... I mean... YOU'RE BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG!?"

He just smirks at me. "And you're Patrick Stump. Didn't know you were a fangirl, Patrick."

"Over you, of course he is. He's got a shrine in his bathroom," Pete says, and I glare at him.

"I do not!" I protest, which isn't entirely true.

"What can I say, I have a killer body." Dr. Armstrong smiles, then shakes my hand. Which I'm not ever going to wash again. "See you guys. Have a good evening."

"B-bye," I stutter, looking at my hand in awe.

When I look back up, everyone is staring at me with amused expressions on their faces.

"What? You act like you've never fangirled before."

"We act like we've never seen you fangirl before," Cheryl says. "He complimented my eyeliner..."

Pete grins cheekily. "I've seen him fangirl."

"Don't you dare talk about it," I yell, looking horrified.

"Fine, I won't."

"Tell meeeeeee," Hailey drawls, tugging on Pete's sleeve. I give him a look.

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Nu uh."

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"How about now?"

"No, Hailey," Pete says, for the eighth time. Were all in the car now, driving them back to the hotel. Hailey has been asking the same question over and over and over again. If Pete tells her about my embarrassing fangirl story he's dead.

"You sure you wanna go back to the hotel? You can come back to my house or something," Hailey says after she gives up asking.

"Um, no offense, Hailey, but your dad scares the shit out of me," Joe says, and Andy nods.

"Tell me about it," I mutter, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"Poor baby," Hailey coos, as Joe, Andy, and Gracie get out of the car.

"I'm going to go with them, Patrick," Gracie says, and I nod. "Bye-bye!"

She stands on her tip toes, and I kiss her nose, which for some reason she finds hilarious. She runs off giggling after Joe and Andy, and I put the car in reverse, driving back to Hailey's.

"Drop Pete and I off at my house," Cheryl says. "I wanna show him around."

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*Pete's POV*

Cheryl pushes me back on the bed, and I look up at her with wide eyes. Her lips are pursed, eyes slitted mischievously. All I can do is watch, shocked, as she slowly crawls onto my body, straddling my waist.

She flips her hair to one side, biting her lip and driving me crazy. I lean up to kiss her, but she pushes me back down, shaking her head at me with a naughty smile I want her to moan off.

"Cheryl," I murmur huskily, wanting her to do something before I do it myself.

"Yes, baby? Is there something you need?"

"You," I rasp through clenched teeth.

"Eager, are we? Aren't we taking it slow?"

"I don't want to take it slow when you're looking at me like that."

She laughs seductively, leaning down and kissing my cheek, dragging her tongue across my jawline. She stops, letting her mouth linger over my collarbone, feeling the hot breath over my skin.

"Cheryl," I moan.

She sucks hard on my neck before taking my shirt off, but she does it so agonizingly slow. I reach over my head and rip it off myself. She traces each of my tattoos with her tongue, making me shiver in delight. She stops right above the hem of my low-waisted jeans, at my batskull. I lay there in anticipation, as she seems to decide what she wants to do.

I tighten my jaw in annoyance as she makes her way back up, until I get enough of it, grabbing her hips, and flipping her over so her back is against the bed.

I slam my lips onto hers, kissing her roughly. Her hands snake into my hair, pulling and tugging. A moan escapes my lips, and I grind my hips against hers hard. Cheryl gasps, grabbing my butt. I grind against her again, and again, until I feel myself getting hard.

My thoughts start going hazy, needing some kind of release, when the door slams shut. I jump off of Cheryl, breathing heavily. My hair is an absolute mess, Cheryl's lipstick smeared all over my face.

"Cheryl? Are you here? I-" Cheryl's mom walks in, sees me, and stops.

"Alrighty then," she mutters, walking out. I sit there, embarrassed as hell, wondering how the shit I'm going to get this tent in my pants to go away.