Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

Chapter 3

It's the early summer of 2011 and a beer lay idle in Patrick's hand. One night of many drinking alone. For some reason as the days dragged on, he was beginning to feel doubt in his work and love life. A whole album ready to be set out to the world, but he finds himself holding back. Was he truly proud of his work? Could people look at him as an individual instead of 'That one guy from Fall Out Boy'. It was a thought that haunted him frequently. The one person he trusted was his girlfriend, now ex, who left him to this pity party. It was like the world was against him.

He starts to feel a buzz. Good. He keeps chugging beers in hopes that maybe he could forget what his mind kept spewing at him. Self pity is so obnoxious.... worrying is so obnoxious, he thinks. The room has yet to start spinning.

A sudden hand lay on his shoulder. He isn't quick to react; the feeling of bother seems absent.

It's a man's voice, "Hello."

Patrick looks up eventually to see a pale young man in a hoodie, "Yeah?" Patrick says.

"I'm Jackson. I've noticed you frequent this bar quite a bit. I've noticed... how sad you seem."

"Well Jack, thanks for noticing. Feel free to un-notice." Patrick takes another sip of his beer.

"Well, you see, I happen to have a specialty with individuals like yourself. I'm someone who has a special gift. I can have just one simple conversation with specific people, and it will change their lives forever."

"Usually I hear the term of using your words as weapons. Preaching gospel. Persuasion. Yada yada, I don't really believe in that. Although I know my best friend's words have touched a lot of people's hearts. Probably changed them."

"Well, any simple man could have an impact with words. Mine are an instant guarantee."

Patrick chuckles, "Yeah what are you, a magician?"

"No, I'm a demon." Jackson says bluntly.

The musician coughs out another laugh and looks at the young man, "What?"

"Your band is on hiatus, but the best friend of whom you speak, Peter Wentz, had originally planned for it to be the end of the band. Your girlfriend for almost two years dumped you because she had started to travel a lot. You were convinced she was cheating. You're finished with your debut record although you have doubts on its success and if you even want to release it."

Patrick's head swims. This couldn't have been real. How could he know... all that. He vigorously rubs his forehead before whispering, "How?"

"There's many eyes and ears who have been following you for a while. Like I said, I can give you what you want. Self confidence and a guarantee that your band will reform and become more successful than ever."

It must be a dream or delusion, Patrick thinks. Maybe this 'demon' represents the confidence that could be so easily granted to him if he just stopped over thinking and dreading all the negative things that may or maynot come. He definitely needs it at this point in time.

He takes a minute before humoring this figment of his imagination, "Uh, sure."

"Come with me." He says. Patrick follows the man out the door and to the back alley.

Patrick's head feels heavy. Maybe he did have enough to drink or too much. The world around him seems to start bouncing in and out of haze.

"Alright, here's fine." Jackson says.

The musician starts to feel tired. If he feels tired, maybe he'll sleep later. He comes to the conclusion that this had to have been a delusion. He slaps his face a couple of times just to stay awake and pay attention to.... His conscious? The voice in his head? Whatever this person was supposed to be.