Patrick Stump Imagines

Filled It Up With Novocaine (Part 2)

You were writing your next report to get your mind off of Pete's call. You put the phone down as fast as he said those words, deleting his contact history from your friend's phone. You didn't plan on telling her because you didn't want you and Patrick to be back together and that you didn't want to be called a privacy invader.

"I thought you were only supposed to write one article," she inquired. You spent no time glancing at her and continued your work instead.

"I'm not. I still need to complete the interview of Gerard," you mumbled as you took the recorder and played the audio of the red-haired singer's voice, writing down whatever you heard. "How about you? Don't you have anything to continue?"

"Nothing," she took her phone and scrolled through, contacting someone. "The manager said I could take a break as an apology or something."

She went out of the room with her phone in hand, still dialing someone. You continued writing until a knock interrupted you. Not even minding to wait for your response and looking really haggard was Sarah, holding your phone in one hand.

"You forgot your phone outside and it keeps ringing. I thought it'd be okay if I just interrupted you for a while to give it to you," she informed you, not even waiting for you to respond. She put the phone on the table while you scrolled through it, seeing that it was an anonymous caller.

You called the caller and surprisingly, they answered in only one ring. You raised your eyebrow suspiciously, but remembered that it was a call and they can't see you.

"Hello?" you said.

"Hey (Y/N)," a very familiar voice greeted. Your eyes widened as you realized who it was. Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third. "What's up?"

"Uh, the sky?" you asked, still starstruck. "How did you get my number?"

"Your friend. Anyway, I've been wanting to ask you something."

"What?"

"Would you like to meet with me tonight at seven? The coffee shop near your headquarters?"

"Sure," you replied, putting the pencil in your hands down.

"Great. See you later, then."

"See you."

You silently shrieked. You hated Patrick, but you always looked up Pete the Meme as a big brother and have been wanting to be friends with him since you listened to their first song.

You took a look at your outfit as how a normal person would when they were asked out, then applied a few make-up to look more stunning than you already were, because, let's face it, you're beautiful as heck.

You glanced at your watch. 6PM.

-

You arrived at the coffee shop, but no essence or remains of a meme were left or currently there. You sighed and thought that Pete Wentz himself had set you up, so you ordered a coffee and sat down at a booth, looking outside at the view to get your mind off of him.

You were currently enjoying yourself but a pair of hands grabbed your head from behind, putting a cloth on your mouth, making you go unconscious.

To be continued...