Patrick's POV
Tonight is our first scheduled practice.
And I'm nervous.
But not like anxiety-attack nervous.
I'm also excited.
I sit on one of the comfy chairs in Andy's basement, tuning my old black and white Fender. It's the only electric I've ever had and I barely play it, but it's still old. Once everyone is done tuning, Pete pulls out his notebook.
"Okay, so we got everyone's parts written down. Joe is going to play the main guitar part and Patrick will play some of it, I think. I'm bass, Andy's drums, and Patrick is vocals. Sound good?" Pete says, handing everyone a messy sheet of music for each instrument.
"I should be good if I can read this," Andy smiles, then takes his shades off, "These aren't helping."
We all laugh a bit and I stand up at the microphone I was given. I adjust it to my height, "So how are we gonna do this?"
Pete scratches the back of his head, "I'll cue Joe and I to start, then you come in like we planned it, 'kay?"
I nod, biting my lip, "Okay."
-
After practicing all night, the last time is the most successful.
I grin when Joe and Pete come in, then start to sing:
I hope this is the last time
'Cause I'd never say no to you
This conversation's been Dead on Arrival
There's no way to talk to you
This conversation's dead on
When we finish the song one more time it isn't perfect, but it's something. And I really think this band is going to be successful if we can keep it up.
Andy wipes his forehead, "When's the next practice gonna be?"
"How about . . . Thursday. Tomorrow? Same time," Joe grins, tuning his guitar again.
"Sounds good. My shift ends at 4:00," I smile, "So I'll be able to make it to the guitar shop before you guys close."
"Sweet," Pete grins, wrapping an arm around me, "You need some sleep now, though. So we'll see you guys tomorrow, alright?"
We all say our goodbyes then head home. I lie down on our bed the minute we get there, not bothering to take my boots off.
"Is singing really that hard?" Pete smiles, putting his bass on the wall before grabbing my guitar and hanging it on the wall as well.
"It's tiring," I say, closing my eyes. I feel Pete grab my fedora and glasses, probably placing them onto the table beside our bed. Then he jumps in. Literally jumps.
"Ah!" I exclaim, nearly falling off the bed.
"Am I that heavy? Or are you just that small?" Pete laughs, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close.
"I'm small," I say, smiling with my teeth.
He grins, leaning in to kiss me. I smile against his lips and soon turn it French. After we make out for who knows how long, we kind of just lie there, Pete playing with my hair and me closing my eyes.
"I'm glad you were happy today," He mumbles.
"I'm glad too," I say, not opening my eyes, "I wish everyday was like today."
"Me too," I feel his lips brush my ear and I giggle, covering my mouth. "I'll never get over how cute that is," Pete laughs.
"I'll never get over how little-kiddish it is," I open my eyes, looking up and over at him. He's watching me with interest but I don't feel uncomfortable. He's studying me- my every move, trying to figure me out. I smile, brushing his fringe off his eyes, examining them. He has a neutral expression after a couple minutes. I can tell he's thinking about something- what it is, I don't know. Then I wrap my arms around his torso and pull myself over so I'm lying on top of him. I'm not the lankiest guy in the world, but my weight doesn't bother him. Pete smiles, brushing his fingers over my face as I rest my chin on his chest.
"Remember that time at the supermarket?" He smiles.
I smile back, "Yeah. That was pretty great."
"Even if we had to sleep in the middle of the store," Pete says, rubbing his thumb over my lips.
"But it was okay, I mean, you were there," I close my eyes, relaxing.
"Yeah."
-
The next morning, I'm tangled up in the covers like a burrito. My sweater is lying on the ground so I'm assuming Pete slipped it off of me while I was half asleep. I can't ever sleep with my sweaters on- as much as I love them, I just get really hot. Pete's lying beside me with his mouth open. Though he doesn't snore, he still makes a light breathing noise. I check the time and see it's just after 6:30. I groan, hating getting up early, but also grateful I didn't sleep in. But now I can't fall back asleep.
So I try to get Pete up.
And I end up falling off the bed.
It works though.
Pete sits up abruptly, looking around and then over the edge, finding me lying on the ground tangled in the covers with my feet sticking in the air. He smiles, "Good morning sunshine!"
I groan, "Shut up, Emo King."
"New nickname huh? I like it. Where's my crown?" Pete grins, holding out a hand to pull me up. I instead just yank him down beside me and he falls with an 'Oof'. "You're so immature," Pete laughs, looking over at me.
"Thanks Pete," I stick my tongue out, flashing a sarcastic smile.
We lie on the floor for a bit before Pete stands up after a couple unsuccessful tries and then helps me up as well. This time I comply, and we throw the covers onto the bed in a huge bundle. We both get ready to head to work, Pete taking forever to get his eyeliner perfect. He ends up wearing a beanie instead of doing his hair. I, however, take the time to fluff my hair just the way I like it when I'm working.
"I'll probably stop here after work so I can change," I smile, wrapping my arms around his torso.
"Whatever you need to do," Pete smiles, kissing me for a while before pulling back, "It's 7:18, we should probably leave." He sighs.
"I'll see you later, alright?" I smile, pecking his lips again.
"Sounds good," He nods, taking my hand and getting me my medication before we leave.
-
what a great ending
YOU ARE READING
the boy on manic street
Fanfiction"Forget the stupid medicine, it didn't help anyways."