Boycott Love (Sequel to Don't Come Home For Christmas) ~ Peterick

Chapter Twenty-Seven - The (After) Life of The Party

P.O.V Patrick

After parties. 

Groupies trying to get with band members, band members trying to get with groupies, drink, drugs and terrible as usual music. 

Honestly, I have no patience for parties. 

Now, an after party in Paris is no different. Except no one understands a damn word you say. Well, except when they talk to me. I've been a translator ever since we got here. 

And believe me, if Pete wasn't dating me he'd be hooking up with every French chick in here. 

Comment romantique. 

He's too hammered to think about hooking up with anyone anyway. Look at him over there. Andy waves me over to them at the bar. After snaking through bodies and shaking my head at spontaneous offers of.. getting busy I land a seat beside Pete, who groans that I moved him ever so slightly and now he feels sicker. 

"Could you sort him out please? Brendon and Spencer are throwing up in the bathroom again." 

"Sure, hey you're lucky I decided to stay sober tonight." 

Andy laughs stating that it's like babysitting and heads into the bathroom to help the 'babies'. 

"How you feeling?" I say loud enough for him to hear and rubbing his back to soothe him. I imagine he feels like crap. 

"Shit.." He mumbles, head resting on the bar. Well that's another way to put it I guess. "I know baby. Uh excuse me, sir." I motion my hand to grab the bartender's attention who looks in our direction before smiling and saying "Que voulez-vous ?"

Pete stares at him, his eyes drooping but still looking affronted that he can't understand his French. Not that he'd be able to understand English at this point either. 

"Je voudrais l'eau minérale non gazeuse." I reply quickly to stop Pete from saying something drunken and stupid. "What.. what is that?" Pete slurs, grabbing onto my sleeve and seeming slightly scared. 

"Water." 

He frowns and juts out his lip. "I want.. beer.. no whiskey. Cocktails. No that's for girls." I shake my head, grabbing the water from the waiter and smiling slightly, giving a quick merci beaucoup before handing Pete the drink. 

"Drink up Wentz." I guide the glass to his mouth since he doesn't seem to be very keen on it at first but once he has a few sips he says "This is.. better than beer." and then proceeds to down the entire glass. 

"Ohh, I don't feel good now." 

And that was the last I saw of him the whole party, after he ran to the bathroom, joining Brendon and Spencer being cared for by Andy. 

It made me wonder where everyone else was. Although the club is pretty big and filled with people who claim to know me, yet I've never met them, I find it strange I haven't seen anyone else. Maybe they went back already, it's pretty late. 

* * * * *

"What?" I ask blankly, still bewildered as to how he managed to catch a flu. "How can you catch a flu in Summer?" 

"Not a flu, stomach flu. It's more of a stomach bug." Kate repeats for the fourth time. "And? How long until it blows over?" 

"The doctor says a few days, a week at most," 

"A week?! We're meant to be in Strasbourg tomorrow!" Joe lifts his hand to his forehead, clearly stressing out, even though we all know Kate is the one stressing out the most. "Yes I know thank you Joe, but we'll have to postpone it."

"Can we not just.. you know shove him on a plane? Does damn all on stage anyway." Joe smirks, knowing Pete can probably hear him. He doesn't reply though. And that is worrying. 

"We're keeping him here with some of the roadies and the doctor and you will all go to continue the tour. Then when he's better he'll fly out. Until then we'll get someone else maybe from one of the other bands to fill in." Kate scans the room, searching for someone who can play bass. 

"Well I can play ba- Wait a second, I'm not leaving him!" I thrust my hands onto my hips and lower my eyebrows. "You can play bass, can't you?" 

"Yes I can. But I'm not leaving Pete!" 

"Yeah that'd probably work, if you didn't have to play guitar too. Hm, can Dallon play bass?" 

"Well considering it's his position I sure hope so. Wait you're not even listening are you?!"

"We could get Zack though instead. Who's better?" 

"I'm not leaving Pete, Kate!

"Ooh, what about Ryan does he play bass?"

"There's so much wrong with that idea." Joe laughs. Clearly Kate doesn't know much about our friends. 

"He doesn't then?" 

"KATE! I'M NOT LEAVING MY BOYFRIEND!"

Kate stuns for a few seconds before straightening up and nodding. "Well, we can't postpone the tour. And you don't want to leave him. How about we go with Joe and just stick him on the plane?"

"Yeah, fuck that." Pete whines, standing in the doorway in his boxers looking remarkably sick and beautiful at the same time. "Need anything babe?" I smile, wrapping my arm around his waist. "Patrick, dude back away or I swear I'll throw up over you."

"Gross." I pull a face and take a few steps back.  He tries to smile but doubles over to try and stop being sick. "Come here, back into bed." I put his arm over my shoulder and support him into the hotel bed, laying him down. 

"If you need anything just call, okay?" And I'm half way out of the door when he says "Can.. you stay?" 

"Kate? I'll look after him, I'll call you if anything happens okay?" I smile, sticking my head out of the door and then closing it behind me. "Yeah, I'll stay." 

* * * * *

"Symptoms incluuude..." Brendon starts, sitting between Pete and I on the bed. Pete gives him an angry glare but does nothing to stop him. "Vomiting?"

"Check." I chime. "Internal organs? Not anymore." Pete says sarcastically. "Sh. Diarrhea?" 

"Dude." Pete groans, holding his stomach. "No." 

"Not yet." Brendon crookedly smiles and writes it down. "Fever?" 

"He's got a higher temperature than normal. Doctor says it's too early for the fever to kick in." 

"This is some badass bug." 

"Oh God, I hate fevers." Pete complains. That's all he's been doing since the after party. "Nausea?"

"Constantly." 

"Abdominal pain?" 

"Abdom- no." He pokes himself in the abdomen to check. "Fatigue or tire-"

"Yes, now piss off." 

"Grouchiness." Brendon smirks but grants his wish as me and him step out of the room. 

"So.. fever?" I question, not sure if Brendon was joking to scare Pete or not. "Eventually, that's when it'll start to get bad. I've had a fever on tour before, it's pretty much hell." 

"And the abdominal pain will come then too?" 

"Yep, and the either sudden hunger or not wanting to eat anything part." 

"As long as we don't catch it. Singers can't be replaced on stage." 

"I'd go on stage anyway."

"No you wouldn't." 

"Ah, I did before." 

I roll my eyes and we take a place on the sofa. Brendon agreed to stay here to help me look after Pete. No matter what we're getting him on that damn plane tomorrow. I have a feeling that not me, Brendon nor Pete'll be sleeping well tonight.

*Small reference to chapter three of the first story there, did you notice? ;) Also, apologies if my French is off. I'm just using some of the stuff I remember from school.*