The Problem with Patrick || Fall Out Boy

detox just to retox

The buzz of the computer monitor on the reception desk was annoying him. In fact, everything about this place was annoying Patrick. He didn't want to be here. He didn't think there was any point to this at all. It wasn't like he was just going to walk in to this stupid psych's office and all of a sudden stop passing out on stage. It didn't make any sense at all.

Pete had driven him here, with the promise that they'd do their groceries together afterwards (Patrick hadn't been entirely truthful about the whole 'having groceries at home' thing, and had been living off a nightly pizza delivered by Pete for about the last 4 days). It was a good motivation to go and do things to look after himself, when Pete was there by his side, but it still felt weird. He was an adult, a musician, someone who was meant to have his life in order, and yet here he was, sitting in a waiting room to go and see a medical professional because he couldn't stop passing out as soon as he tried to do his job.

And to make things worse, this stupid appointment was common knowledge. Everybody in the band, even everyone back at the label knew that Patrick was going to this stupid appointment today. And that directly translated, in Patrick's mind, to how everyone knew that he was a useless singer and a mess of a person that couldn't control themselves and needed to lie down a bench and tell a stranger about their daddy issues.

Not that Patrick had daddy issues of course, but it seemed to him like the entire world thought that he did. Or thought that he was crazy, which was again a pretty strong possibility.

"Mr Stump?"

He was shaken from his thoughts and stood up, shaking hands with the lady in front of him while she smiled brightly (it seemed genuine, but Patrick had decided before he even saw it that is was artificial and this lady didn't want to see him at all because he was obviously a nutcase with no hope of recovery). Pete jumped up too, and introduced himself, which wasn't really necessary, but Patrick was glad for the support.

Part of Pete wanted to go in too, wanted to listen and wanted to know exactly what was going on inside Patrick's head so he could help out. He wanted to know exactly what to do to help his friend, but as he watched Patrick walk down the hallway with the psychologist that the label had booked him in to see, Pete realised that wasn't really an option.

The session was an hour and a half, and having promised Patrick that they'd do groceries together afterwards, there wasn't really a point in going home. He'd just sit down for about 10 minutes and then have to come back out again, so he drove to Andy's house, considering that it was the closest to the office that Patrick was now sitting in.

Andy was home, thankfully, and welcomed Pete inside to sit down and chat. Andy, knowing about the appointment, immediately began pelting Pete with questions about he was doing.

"Yeah, yeah, he's good."

"Joe said you guys had been hanging out like, every day. Is there a reason for that?"

"Well, I mean like, you know the news was kinda hard, and he's putting a lot of pressure and doubt on himself because of it and, yeah, it's just not really very good, so I'm just like, being around so if he needs someone to talk to or to reassure him then there's always someone there."

"Is he alright? I mean, apparently he spent the night at your place a couple of days ago."

"How did you know that?"

"Joe said he heard from Bob, and apparently either you or Patrick told Bob? I don't know."

"I told Bob." Pete sighed, remembering that conversation with their manager. "I just, I didn't know who to talk to."