Patrick Stump Imagines

I Was So Good Back Then

A/N: Here's Patrick with eyeliner to get you into the mood of this imagine. And also... I'm a liner away from getting you into the mood.

•••

• Patrick's POV •

Pete invited me to another one of his teenage parties with girls, lights and other stuff like that. Sure, I liked those, but not the idea of having to go to some guy's house, drimk too much, run dry, then don't remember what you did. That happens every time I'm with Pete.

Speaking of Pete, we both walked outside of the car and inside the house, me constantly suljing because of how smelly and rowdy the crowd was. There were even two people making out in one corner with one of them half-naked. I just hated teenagers even if I was one; I was fifteen. But they scared the living shit out of me.

I looked around and saw a buffet table where no one was hanging out except for this guy who literally ate all the boxes of the pizza. It was okay. I was a vegetarian anyway.

I walked over and took a muffin but accidentally hit hands with someone else. I pulled away, letting whoever the person was get the delicacy, but she didn't. I became skeptical.

"Uh, you can have it, if you want," I suggested softly.

"It's okay. You can. I'm not hungry anyway," she insisted. I shook my head against her response.

"I'm a boy, I'm supposed to be a gentleman. Please, take it." I motioned my hands to the muffin as if it was something royal as she took it with a smile.

"Thank you..."

I shot up and looked at her. "Patrick. Patrick Stumph."

She smiled, her teeth as white as diamonds and as bright as her smile. "(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

We talked for a few minutes, knowing each other better and making fun of some of our fetishes sometimes. I honestly liked talking to her; her feelings and words seemed so serene and elegant, like she was a rose.

But with every rose, there were thorns.

She picked up two shot glasses from the glass container in the middle of the room and filled the both of them up with something that had a foul odor and a clear complexion. I eyed it for a moment before she picked hers up and drank the whole thing in less than three seconds.

"Come on, it's not that bad," she remarked. She must've noticed how nervous I am because she encouraged me again to drink the beverage until I finally gave in and tasted what I assumed was liquor. It tasted gross at the start, but my tongue seemed to get used to it because I asked for another, and another, and another...

Until I couldn't take it anymore. I was fifteen, and what I drank was way more beyond than that number. And there I swore that the one I was holding would be my last shot as I crossed my heart and crossed my fingers.

I must've become overly intoxicated because next thing I knew, the both of us were in the room, sushing each other's giggles and laughing ourselves. Her legs were around my body as I was pinned to the wall and was left staring at her (Y/E/C) eyes.

She pulled me up and pushed me down onto the bed, her on top of me.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked. Hey, even though I was drunk, I still had the consent of asking a girl whether she wanted to have sex or not. Besides, I was making sure if I was ready to lose my virginity to her. I wasn't sure if I was going to be her first time, though, since she looked like she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Yes," she whispered. Her lips touched my neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. I was feeling intense pleasure, but I wasn't ready. I politely pushed her off as she landed on the bed, our bodies beside each other's. "Why?"

"I'm not ready. What if we accidentally have a kid? Think about it. We've only met each other for a few hours now we're going to have sex. That's impractical and if I ever impregnate you, I can't stand as a father for that baby. I'm fifteen, you're fourteen."

She shook her head with my words. "I'm protected. Don't worry."

I was confused. What did that mean? "So you have a gun? What does that have to do with this?"

She looked like she was going to argue, but directed her hand to her face instead. "You know what? You're too innocent and quite possibly dumb for this. Nevermind. Pretend this never happened and pretend you never met me."

Those were the last I ever heard from her that night after she closed the door.

—

Today was another day of touring for my Soul Punk tour, and I was in Chicago, resting on my hotel bed and scrolling through Twitter. I got a VIP room next to my assistant who was roaming around the room, commandind orders to my other staff.

I heard a knock come at my door as I mumbled a quiet "come in." My assistant peeked her head in and smiled.

"Some girl named (Y/N) wants to meet you," she informed me with a smile. I raised one of my eyebrows and commanded her to let the visitor in, and the girl that stepped foot on the door was the same one who walked away on me on that drunken night.

"Patrick, do you remember me?" she squealed as if we were friends. She went to hug me but I pushed her away.

"Excuse me, who are you?" I interrogated. I was determined to play the game she started 12 years ago.

She sighed. "I'm (Y/N), from that party, you know?"

I smirked. "Oh, the same girl that told me that I was dumb and to forget we ever met. I guess your game's still going for me, (Y/N)."

A horrified look on her face sprawled as I asked my security guards to take her away, waving her an innocent 'goodbye' while doing so.

(Y/N), I was so good back then, but I wonder if I'd be so good if I saw you again.