"That sounds awesome," Joe grins, "So we're going to be a rock band, right?"
"Punk/Rock/Pop, something like that," I shrug, "I'm not playing anything quiet and sappy, that's for sure." Patrick laughs along with Andy and Joe. I wrap my arm around him and he leans against me.
"Cool," Andy smiles through his shades, "Okay, but where are we going to set up? And we're gonna need to get booked somewhere."
"We'll get to getting booked after we come up with a couple more songs," I say, waving it off.
Joe nods, "Yeah. Andy, you have a big house, right?"
He shrugs, "I guess so. The basement is pretty big. I don't live with anyone else."
"Why don't you have an apartment?" Patrick asks.
"Couldn't play my drums in an apartment now could I?" Andy grins.
We laugh, then Joe speaks up, "Okay, so I don't really know how to record songs or any of that stuff, I just know guitar."
"We don't need to record, do we?" Patrick asks, scratching his chin, "I mean first let's perform a song or two and go from there?"
Joe contemplates that for a minute, then nods, "Yeah, sounds good."
"I'm so excited you guys," Andy grins, practically jumping out of his seat.
"When is our first practice gonna be?" Patrick says.
"Is tomorrow at 6:00 okay? When do you get out of work?" Andy asks, standing up to stretch.
"I get off at 4:00 tomorrow so that'll work," Patrick smiles, "We should get going then?" He turns to me.
"Yeah, I don't want another repeat of this morning."
Patrick nods then stands up with me and we both leave the guitar shop to head home. I hold his hand, swinging our arms back and forth, "Hey, Pete?"
"Yeah?" I say, looking over at him. He's watching the ground as we walk, his untied bowtie hanging around his neck.
"I don't really know about this whole band thing, I just feel so overwhelmed," Patrick sighs, tightening his grip on my hand.
I smile a bit, "I'm nervous too, but we're both a part of this so we can work through it together, alright?"
He nods slightly, still looking at the ground, "Okay."
I can tell something else is on his mind, so I take him to the park down the road, where I asked him out. He doesn't say anything when we sit down on the bench under the cork tree, just leans against me and rests his head on my shoulder. When he's ready to speak, he does, "My mom texted me."
"What'd she say?" I ask, running my fingers over the back of his hand.
Patrick sighs, "She- she wants me to come and visit. Her and my step-dad."
I think about this for a minute. His parents are divorced? Patrick never told me that. I want to ask why but I don't want to make him feel any more stressed than he already is.
"Well, do you want to visit them?"
"Not . . . really. I just- I miss her, yeah, but at the same time I don't. I just want to pretend like I never saw that text and like she never sent it to me. If it was my dad, it'd be a different story, but it's not."
"Why would it be a different story if it was your dad?"
He positions himself so that his elbows are on his knees and he's looking at the lake ahead of us, "My dad was way more there for me than my mom was. He's the reason I got into music in the first place, ever since I was little. I don't know where he is now, though. Ever since my parents divorced when I was a Sophomore, I haven't seen him since. One night he was there, the next morning he was gone." Patrick bites his lip as a couple tears fall.
I rub his back, "You don't have to see her 'Trick. Maybe you should think about this until morning."
He shakes his head, standing up and running his hands through his hair, making it stick up all over the place, "I got the text when we were at McDonald's. I've been thinking about it forever, I just don't know what to do. I want to see her, but I don't. She reminds me so much of those awful years in my life, and my dad. I'd probably break down the second I saw her. But I know I should go."
I stand up, wrapping my arms around his torso, "Hey, I think you should get some sleep, alright?"
Patrick pushes me away, tears dripping down his cheeks, "I'm sorry, but I think I need to be alone for a bit." He looks down, then walks back to our apartment.
My heart shatters.
He's never rejected me like that before. Patrick is always one to lean on others when he's in desperate need, like during his anxiety attacks or when his depression goes insane. But now he's not, and I really don't know what to do about it. I've always seen Patrick as a brave person who knows how to treat others correctly even though they've been hurting him since he was little. But now I'm starting to think that maybe he's starting to resort to blocking everything out instead of standing up against it.
Patrick Stump is getting worn down each day, and I don't think I can do anything about it.
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