Band Imagines/One-Shots

Where Is Your Boy Tonight? I Hope He Is A Gentleman // Patrick Stump

You rushed out the door, trying to keep all your things together, and tripping over your own feet. You hit the ground a little hard on your right knee, but ignored it, quickly stumbling off the ground, snatching up your backpack and keys from the ground, outside your apartment.

If you didn't hurry, he would kill you. Well, maybe not kill you, but he would be really upset, and you'd have to deal with him later.

You were supposed to be meeting your boyfriend Bob Bryar outside your college, to study together.

Your boyfriend wasn't really mean...well, not at first. Over time, his kindness for you became arrogance, hate, and he used you to do things for him. When he gets drunk, thats when it gets bad. You wanted to break up with him, but he would be even more angry. But you weren't gonna think about that now.

You had to rush to make it on time onto the subway. It was almost time for it to take off, so you ran as fast as you could without too much damage done to yourself, and others. You unattractively tripped down the stairs, your backpack spilling open, and all your things, including the papers in your folders, and your pens and pencils, spilling all over the floor.

"No!" You cried out in frustration. You looked up and saw the subway leaving, making the agony more painful. You missed it, and now, he was gonna be really upset with you. You tried not to think about it, while you slowly picked up papers, strangers walking around you and giving you strange looks. You didn't care, you had to figure out how to get to your college in time.

Out of the corner of your eye, someone in black bent down next to you, and a pale hand started helping you pick up papers.

"Hi." A shy and nervous voice spoke. You looked up, and saw a man with dirty blonde/light brown hair, black framed glasses, and a black fedora. He was really handsome, but adorable, if that made sense. Hey, whatever, it made sense to you.

At this point, tears were in your eyes, and you didn't want the stranger to see them, but there was really no hiding them.

"H-Hi." Your voice cracked, and you looked down to pick up the papers left.

"Bad day?" The man asked softly, picking up the pencils and pens after handing you the papers.

"You could say that." You let out a humorless laugh, and reached over, picking up your glasses case, and putting it in your backpack.

"It'll get better soon, I'll bet." He replied and gave a small smile, handing over your sketchbook.

"Unfortunately it won't." You mumbled quietly as you reached for your textbook. Apparently it wasn't quiet enough, because he responded.

"Why's that?" He frowned a little, looking at you, and handing you your own reading material. You gulped, and looked at him hesitantly, not expecting that he had heard you. You picked up your small tin of drawing pencils, and put them in your backpack, before standing up, and swinging the bag on your back, the stranger standing up with you.

"I'm (Y/N)." You held out your hand, changing the subject.

"Patrick." He replied and smiled softly. You swallowed the lump in your throat, and looked back up the stairs to the street above quickly, and looked back at Patrick.

"I'm sorry, but-" you looked at your phone's clock. "Oh my god, I'm so late." Your voice broke a little more, and you pressed your hand against your forehead. "I have to go, I'm sorry Patrick-"

"Hey, its okay, calm down." He looked at you in concern.

"No, it's not! I-I was supposed to get on that subway, a-and go to my college, and meet my boyfriend, and now I'm late, a-and h-he's gonna be s-so angry at me, a-and-" You cut yourself off and closed your eyes, frustrated. There was no way you could make it on time, now.