(coffee's for closers)

chapter seven

whoo so it's been way too long I know ugh sorry everyone. I made a slightly longer chapter to make up for it hopefully hahha but

meanwhile this story now has 1k reads and I'm so so grateful for that you don't even understand omg you all are awesome <3

enjoy and have a fantastic day bc you're all wonderful

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Patrick and I headed back out again, his blushing and muttering accompanied by my snickering.

Whoops.

Mostly he just shoved his fists deeper into his pockets and bumped my shoulder with his in mildly amused protest when I laughed. Each time he did, I couldn't help but start laughing again and goddammit, the little shit almost had me giggling.

He just smiled sheepishly at me and led me away from his house and his mom's coddling. I looked around us. "Where exactly are we going now, then?" I questioned.

He shrugged lightly. "I have no idea. You still wanna eat?"

As cliché as it sounds, as soon as he asked, my stomach growled in agreement. "Yes," I practically groaned, realizing I hadn't eaten in hours. "Is there a good pizza place around here?"

He nodded. "Of course. Uhh. Over a few streets?"

I nodded enthusiastically. Pizza.

We walked two or three more streets and really just chatted. I learned about the best places to eat in this city--apparently Joe's Pizza was a favorite. Patrick told me how a family friend owned the joint, got him his first job (to which I imagined teenage Patrick rolling pizza dough and waiting tables and greeting picture-perfect families with 2.2 kids with his happy little puppy-dog expression). He told me how he grew up in the city, just him and his mom. I nodded a lot and just listened to him talk. He rambled a little as we ordered cheese pizza and squeezed into a booth in the back, but I didn't mind. For once, he'd lightened up. He didn't seem so nervous, talking with his hands and smiling to himself at past memories. I let him talk until the pizza was gone and he noticed I hadn't said a word about myself in over two hours.

That's when he blushed again. "Oh shit," he said guiltily, "Did I just ramble at you for like two hours? Shit. You say something." He looked expectantly at me.

"Umm." I balked. What was there to say? "Uh. I lived in Chicago until I was a teenager. Then, in high school, I met these two dudes Andy and Joe. We hung out a lot and basically decided one day to try and do something productive with ourselves, so somehow we kind of started a band together. I don't know how, but word got around pretty fast and we had fans before we even had a name. It was crazy. Is. It is crazy. We're here now because we're trying to record, but. I don't know. It's been, uh, interesting, to say the least."

Patrick stared open-mouthed at me.

"Dude, stop," I said, "That's creepy."

He grinned. "So now I'm friends with a famous rockstar. Awesome."

"Not famous. Not by a long shot."

"Soon. What do you do?"

"What do I do?"

"In the band," he said. "What do you play?"

"Oh. Bass. Andy drums and Joe does guitar."

"Oh man, awesome," he breathed. "Who sings then?"

I stayed quiet for a second. "No one, yet. No one's been able to deliver what we're looking for. I don't know. Maybe we're too picky? It's starting to become a problem though, since none of us can sing."

He nodded. "Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem."

"Yeah," I agreed with a sigh. "But new city, new people. We could find a vocalist here."

Patrick nodded encouragingly. "They could be sitting right across the street. Right now."

"How about you?"

"What about me?"

"Can you sing?"

"Me? Sing?"

"Yes, idiot. Can you sing?"

He shifted nervously. "Uh. I can. Kind of. I don't though. I'm not great."

"Dude," I said, my eyes widening as I leaned forward over our plates. "You're totally gonna try out. You're coming with me to rehearsal tomorrow."

He started to shake his head furiously. "No, no, I can't--"

I interrupted him. "Okay, wait. You don't have to sing. But at least come? Check it out? See if it's music you even like, anyway. You might even end up hating Joe or something, yknow? And then you never have to come back. But you gotta come just this once." I was practically pleading with him. God. I don't even know why. I felt like I just needed this kid around, somehow. I needed him to be there.

He looked uncertain.

"Pleaaaase?" I whined.

His face went a little pink. "Fine, fine," he agreed quickly. "I'll come."