You're Not Even Mine to Miss [Fall Out Boy - Wattys 2014]

➽ Track Eight (Patrick's POV).

Track Eight (Patrick’s POV): Love never wanted me, but I took it anyway.

(April 18th, 2008)

Somehow – thanks to my twenty-five minute call with our manager and hearing a lot of teasing from him and his attempt to spill to the other guys about what our phone call was all about – I managed to find RJ’s apartment. The building wasn’t very far from our studio and her apartment room was on the third floor, which was why I had to climb up the long flight of steps just to reach her.

And also, I found out from our manager that RJ wasn’t in the studio earlier that day since she got sick, so I decided to bring her some chicken soup as a gift for her and an apology since I had forgotten all about my promise to her – something that was odd for me because I rarely forget about those kind of things.

Um, okay, not really, but I think my point was understood.

Anyway, when I was standing in front of her apartment door, I wasn’t sure if I should knock and let her know that I was there. I mean, I really thought that I should since I made her feel bad earlier and had blown her off in some kind of way during our phone conversation, but the thing was that… I wasn’t sure what to tell her. Give her the soup, apologize to her about what happened, then what?

Just wing it, Patrick Stump.

Breathing out rather loudly, I rapped my knuckles on the door twice. I heard light footsteps from the other side of the door, and I tried to formulate sentences in my brain as the footfalls approached me. I then watched as the door swung open, and revealed a blonde that I had never seen before.

Her golden blonde hair was tied into a ponytail and her pink lip-glossed lips were pursed as she examined me from head to toe with those grey eyes of hers and one eyebrow arched up. Her eyes then focussed back to mine as she arched her other eyebrow and crossed her arms on her chest. “Can I help you?” she asked me before looking at what I was bringing.

I then lifted the brown paper bag up for her to see. “It’s chicken soup. I brought it for RJ Daniels?” I looked over her, but to my disappointment, RJ wasn’t there.

“RJ? You mean Rachelle?” the blonde asked me, resting her shoulder on the surface of the door.

“Yeah. Rachelle Jane Daniels. Does she live here?” I asked the obviously younger teenager. “If she isn’t here then maybe I’d come back some other time instead—”

“Who’re you?” she nodded at me with her eyebrows furrowed together, not even letting me finish my sentence. She seemed to be quite nosy, which was understandable since she didn’t recognize – perhaps know – me at all. “Are you Rachelle’s boyfriend?”

“Um, no,” I replied, but it sounded like a question to me. That made both of her eyebrows rise up, and I inwardly scolded myself. Don’t you mess up with this. It’s simple. “I’m just a friend of hers. My name is Patrick, by the way.”

“Tricia Parker, her roommate,” the blonde introduced herself (even though I wasn’t really wondering, but who am I to judge people if they want to introduce themselves), extending her hand out. Although I was a bit surprised, I managed to collect myself and shake her hand. She quickly withdrew it from my grip. “What do you want from Raych? She’s sick, so she couldn’t really see you right now.”

“So I’ve heard,” I mumbled, trying not to get mad at the shorter blonde. To be honest (and since it was scaring the heck out of me), I was starting to lose my patience. “Look, all I want is to talk with her for a few minutes and then I’ll go. And I just wanted to give her this.” I then held out the paper bag that I was holding again, wanting to let her see my point.