Fall Out Boy Imagines

At 5

You sat at your desk staring at the many papers full of scrapped, used, and possible lyrics at hand. Music sheets resolve themselves in the mix, sticking out to you in neon lights. Your pencil lay under a spell, frozen on your mind and paper. No flow, no motion. Nothing moved. You dropped the pencil, putting your head in your hands. You accepted it.

"He's not coming, is he." you said.

"I think you're wrong." said a phantom of middle school Patrick to you. He sat in Pete's chair as if he had owned it. You raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Bet." 

"I'd win. I'm the one that isn't real."

"You are also the one who is controlled by me."

"Bet."

"What are you doing here." you questioned. He smiled.

"You fell asleep." 

"Then I'll just wake up." you remarked.

"No you won't," Patrick smirked, "you aren't done talking to me yet."

You glared deep into his eyes. "Why isn't he here yet."

"You told him to meet at five. It's only 4:48. He has time, and so do we." You sat there in silence for a minute before he spoke again. "He will come."

"How are you so sure."

"Cause you told him so, remember? 'You love doing this, and I know it'. Your words. He's coming."

"4:49" you said, trying to wake up. Patrick sat there glassy eyed, saying nothing. You turned to him as he smiled. Slowly, he looked down at your feet. You looked down with him curiously. Suddenly, Patrick was right there in your face, his eyes and face white as clouds. You jumped away.

"5"

You woke up to loud steps approaching you. As you turned to the door, it opened to reveal gloomy Pete. 

You smiled at him. "Hello."

"Hi" he said, looking down.

"Got any ideas?" you asked him.

He went to go sit down in his seat that once held Patrick's remarks, "A few."