What a catch Donnie

Troubled Thoughts and the Self-Esteem to Match

The auditorium was packed with people, waiting for Patrick to perform. He turned to Pete for advice.

"What are you going to play, Patrick?" He asked, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"I... I don't really know. I mean, I've got some music, but no words. I named it Donnie."

"Patrick, I write poetry! You could add one of my poems to your music! Here's one I have on me, it's called What a Catch." Pete held out some paper. It was torn and frayed, but still in one piece. Patrick took it hesitantly and read it slowly.

"What a Catch, Donnie." Patrick murmured, "It has a nice ring to it. Thanks, Pete." Pete smiled at him then motioned towards the stage. Patrick waddled nervously up to the piano and sat down. Avoiding eye contact with the crowd, he cleared his throat.

"Ummm, hi. My name is Patrick Stump and I'm playing the piano. This song is called What a Catch, Donnie. I wrote the music and my friend wrote the lyrics. I hope you enjoy." He gulped nervously and turned to the keys. He started playing, his fingers dancing lightly over the keys. He opened his mouth to sing, but nothing came out.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry. I need to start again. Sorry." As Patrick got ready again, he heard some groans and sighs from the audience. Panicking, he looked at Pete for reassurance, who just nodded at him, smiling. His voice rang through Patrick's head:

"Focus on me. Act like I'm the only person who listens."

His fingers started to glide across the keys, seemingly without him know. He started singing softly into the mic.

"I've got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match, what a catch, what a catch." People started murmuring, obviously bored by such a slow melody. Patrick decide to try something he had never done before'

"Woa Woah!" he yelled into the mic, rising onto the balls of his feet. "You'll never catch us, so just let me be, said I'll be fine, 'till the hospital or American Embassy." The muttering had stopped after his little outburst.

"Miss Flack said I still want you back. Yeah, Miss Flack said I still want you back." The band geeks were muttering and pointing, as if in awe.

"I got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match, what a catch, what a catch." Patrick relaxed slightly, nobody was booing him off. Yet. "And all I can think of is the way I'm the one who charmed the one who gave up on you, who gave up on you." It must have been Pete's stunning lyrics that had everyone silent. It couldn't be Patrick, could it?

"They say the captain goes down with the ship, so when the world ends, will God go down with it? Miss Flack said I still want you back. Yeah, Miss Flack said I still want you back." Patrick wondered for a moment, how serious was Pete about this whole 'Captain of a ship' thing? He was starting to consider it himself, but smaller, like a fishing boat.

"I got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match, what a catch, what a catch. And all I can think of is the way I'm the one who charmed the one who gave up on you, who gave up on you." Even the popular kids were quiet now, staring at the shy boy singing his heart out.

"What a catch, what a catch, what a catch, what a catch!" Patrick sung as a single tear slipped down his cheek. "I will never end up like him, but behind my back, I already am. Keep a calendar, this way you will always know!" Who was Pete talking about?

"I got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match, what a catch, what a catch. And all I can think of is the way I'm the one who charmed the one who gave up on you, who gave up on you." Patrick was full-on crying now, with red puffy eyes. As his fingers danced over the keys he started sobbing grossly, missing out a load of the words. As the song drew to an end he sniffed and opened his mouth for the last time,

"I've got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match, what a catch, what a catch." He then whispered a quick thanks to a crowd, dropped his head and stumbled offstage. Pete tried to talk to him, but got shoved out of the way as Patrick ran back to the toilets.

Pete knocked on the stall door, "Hey, Patrick? You okay in there, dude?" Patrick grunted at him before retching again. He slowly got up and unlocked the door. He smiled weakly at Pete before crashing into his arms, sobbing.

"I did terrible, Pete. I'm so sorry for ruining it!" Pete stroked his hair softly, "Shhhh, Patrick, you did amazing."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Patrick."