"Wait, what?" Patrick asks, eyes still wide, "As in like- perform, on stage, for people? Like- hundreds of people?"
"No, thousands!" Joe exclaims, arms wide, "Come on, guys. We have our drummer, bassist, vocalist, and I'm thinking around a split guitar part with Patrick. What are your guys other instruments?"
"Whoa whoa whoa- back up Joe, we have Patrick sing once for us, we can't just immediately form a band," I say, waving my hands.
Patrick nods, "I could barely sing in front of you guys! I can't sing in front of a huge crowd."
"You'll practice. We all will. We'll get better, and better. The only problem is . . . songs," Joe rubs his chin, thinking hard.
"Pete, didn't you mention you write sometimes?" Andy asks, taking his shades off.
"Oh, um . . . yeah," I blush, looking at my hands. When I look up I feel Patrick's gaze on me, and I can't really decipher the look in his eyes.
I look away towards Joe, "Man, I don't know if we could start a band. That takes so much work, our freedom would be stripped away."
He looks at me like he can't believe what I said, "Are you joking? We'd be able to tour around the country, maybe even the world if people like us! Sure, there would be a whole load of work, but in the end it would all be worth it."
Patrick looks from all of us, then nods, "I'll do it. It's worth it if I can make people happy." My eyes widen.
Andy pipes up, "Same. I mean, you guys are gonna need a drummer, and I'm one of the best." He smirks, "No, but seriously I'd love to be a part of a band. As long as I can still lift weights and eat salad."
We laugh, and I nod, "I guess I'm in then."
Everyone cheers. Joe and Andy end up leaving a half hour or so later after we figure out plans for the next day. Patrick is going to meet up at the guitar shop with us after his shift ends at 7:00 so we can figure out a place to practice and set up Andy's drums.
Once I'm done throwing out the trash from tonight, I go to shower but find Patrick has already claimed it, so I lie down on the bed and listen to him sing. I don't know what song it is but it's some type of jazz. When he's done showering he walks out in a towel and blushes a deep red, covering himself with his arms, "Peeeeete."
"Whaaaaat?" I laugh, sitting up and watching him go to the closet.
"How long have you been out here?" He comes out while pulling on a shirt, choosing his pair of batman pajama pants.
"Only a few minutes. Your voice is fantastic," I smile as he lies down beside me, looking at the ceiling.
"Thanks. I never realized how much people would think I sound good," Patrick sighs.
"What's on your mind?" I ask, frowning a bit.
He shrugs, "So much has happened in the past couple days. I've made two new friends, sang for all you guys, and now I've agreed to sing in a band. Which I'm okay with, I love seeing people happy, but what am I going to tell Elizabeth? I've worked at the café for as long as I can remember. My life has rarely ever gotten so hectic in such a short amount of time. I guess I'm just overwhelmed."
I nod slowly, "Yeah, if we're going to actually legit start a band we're gonna have to get used to all this craziness. Which reminds me, I should probably show you this." I stand up, walking to my dresser and pulling out my notebook shoved in the back of my sock drawer.
Patrick sits up, taking the notebook from me. I sit beside him again, looking at my hands as he flips through the pages scribbled with random words that I thought of and random ideas I've had and the things that I've always wanted to scream but just couldn't because of how society works.
He looks up at me in awe, "You're a very talented writer, Pete. These are great ideas for songs. We could totally start here. Just a sec." Patrick gets up, going into his closet. He stands on his tip toes and pulls out a brown cardboard box. Once he opens it, I notice how it's filled with notebooks and pencils and scraps of paper. He offers me the top notebook and I open it.
We end up looking through every notebook and every piece of scrap paper, brainstorming ideas on our first song. Once we're done, and I'm finished showering, and we're lying in bed, Patrick supports himself on his elbows and looks at me for a long time before speaking, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
I sigh, not looking away from his eyes, "Because I was embarrassed, I don't know, I just liked keeping my thoughts private. I merely told Andy because he asked if I was into writing and I didn't want to lie to him, I'm surprised he remembers. Why didn't you tell me?"
Patrick shrugs, looking down at his hands, "I was scared, I guess. I didn't want you to think it was stupid and then leave me or something."
I sit up and pull him into my lap, "I'd never judge you like they did. I'll never leave you either. We're gonna stick together until the end, alright 'Trick?" I rub my thumb over his cheek, wanting to get through to him.
Patrick nods, leaning in to kiss me. I kiss him back, smiling against his lips and pulling him closer. When I open my eyes his face is a light shade of red. I pull back then lie down with my arms wrapped around him.
I'll never leave him. Ever.
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