Weight Is Just A Number

Eight

The boys were all exited for their next show at Coachella, they had been many times but this years line up was pretty amazing. They spent the day doing interviews and just hanging out. Patrick ended up eating nothing but drinking one shot of vodka (55 calories) and doing a line of cocaine with some girl in a neon bikini. Right before the show Pete whispered something to Joe and Andy  then they all went on stage.
After light 'em up, Pete took his microphone and yelled into it "this is a song we have never played on stage before, due to me being a giant fucking wimp but I think I owe it to this little guy tonight, so ladies and gentlemen..." Joe started to play the into notes for 'i've got a bad idea and  a dark ally that says you should shut your mouth'. "I won't cry, I'll just be just sweating from my eyes" Pete chuckled swinging his bass around and gave Patrick a small smile before engulfing himself into the energy of the crowd.
Patrick took a deep breath, his head didn't want him to get those lyrics out of his mouth, but then the first verse started to flow out of his mouth like the blood out of his cuts from the last nights. During the middle of the chorus Pete waked over to Patrick and leaned his head on the younger boys shoulder then started to whisper the lyrics. By the end of the song Patrick was getting teary eyed, he was glad that it was the last song of the show. Pete did a small speech at the end, Patrick stood behind him and held his hand, Pete rambled on until he felt Patrick squeeze his hand, that was his signal that something was wrong and he needed Pete's undivided attention, so Pete wrapped up his speech and practically ran backstage followed by an almost crying and trembling Patrick.

"'Trick whats wrong" Pete frantically asked his, getting paler by the second, best friend, Patrick bit his lip but held back the tears that wanted to spill and he rolled back the sleeve of his loose dark grey cardigan and starred at the cuts that were slowly turning into scars. "They saw them, Pete they took pictures!" His voice cracked slightly and he couldn't look Pete in eyes before he ran off to their bus.
Pete held his breath before letting out a whimper, everything was gone, he thought Patrick was better, no more cutting. Patrick's six years of being clean, Gone. Pete didn't know how many nights he stayed up convincing Patrick not to cut, not like he minded the saying up, he just minded the part where his best friend wanted to die. Stupid Pete, you haven't been clean for six year, does he believe everything you tell him? Idiot.
Of course Patrick slit his wrists when he got back to the bus and Pete ignored him for the rest of the night and watched sponge bob with Declan.

a/n
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this is unedited. sorry