I Dont Do Too Well On My Own

The Third Chapter

Patrick Stump. Of course it is. I mentally face palm.

I dry my clammy hand on my leg and stick my hand out.

"We just slept together, shaking hands was meant to be last night." Patrick laughs. "Have you heard of me before?"

My face is still as poker faced as I can manage. He doesnt know that my heart pace has increased or that I am starting to sweat or that my nerves are taking over.

"I-I urm." I stutter. "Uh- kind of?" My mouth is dry and my knees week.

"Youre kind of pale, do you want to sit down?" He asks.

Maybe he noticed. Incase you havent noticed, this is a big deal.

Flashback to 4 years ago, with Jessica. Im sitting in front of my laptop watching yet another Fall Out Boy interview. I comment to myself about how cute Patrick is and what I would do if I ever met him. This is not how it was meant to go.

So, you can safely assume Im freaking out.

I dont reply in the fear of sounding like an idiot. I assure myself its too late.

My problem isnt that I have met Patrick Stump in the wrong way or whatever. My problem is that I have told him my deepest feeling and inner secrets. My problem is that he is famous and could spread it. My problem is that Im not quite sure what I have told him.

I take the cup and sit down at the table, clutching it tightly. The mornings are always damage control. When will I learn?

"I made you a drink." I dismiss.

"Thank you." He nods, sitting opposite me.

I twirl my spoon around my cup. The darker liquid mixing with the lighter, swirling like a typhoon. Its dizzying looking into the centre. The edges of the liquid being sucked into the middle.

I look up at him. He is watching me and sipping on his own cup.

"What did I... Tell you?" I ask.

"Well..." He takes a sip, keeping strong eye contact. He is obviously trying to make a good first impression. Make that a second impression. "There was a lot of stuff."

"Well, can you keep it all a secret? Even the bit about the hiding and stuff."

"The bit about what? Hiding?"

I close my eyes and curse at myself. Stupid. I lean back in my chair, running my hand through my hair, my face blank.

I look at him and flounder at what to say. "That was a... That was a funny joke." I laugh to cover it up.

"No, seriously." He smirks at me, leaning forward.

This is the moment in a club where would I normally turn around and run. Running being going 'to the toilet'. But Im in his house and I have no escape. I just stare blankly at him, my stomach starting to burn and he waits patiently. Im going to vomit all that alcohol from last night across his clean plastic table.

Patrick is not going to be that one person that I suddenly find and become close with and share all my secrets. Besides, Ive already shared half my life story with him. He is as good as a stranger right now.

"Patrick." I laugh, covering over my general fear of this moment. "Patrick, Patrick, Patrick." He flinches each time I say his name. Its subconscious.

"I can tell when people are lying." He smiles playfully.

I ruffle my hand through my knotty hair. "Good for you Patrick. Enjoy it. Use your talents. Lucky Im not lying or anything..."

"Pete would love you." He laughs.

"Patrick. We arent exactly married yet. Lets go slow." I joke back, desperately trying to switch up the conversation.

"No," he sobers up, "we got married last night? You dont remember?"

Everything stops and goes whiter and whiter until its block white. Married? Me? Did I have to give my real name for that? It feels like my heart explodes from my chest. Everything is dizzy. The white takes over.

Patricks voice wakes me. Im lying on the wooden floor, supported by his legs. I remember and my breath splutters. My head hurts and I feel sick. Did I pass out? What a useless body... My stomach aches. I must have drunk too much. I clutch at my stomach and take a deep breath.

"Hey? Im sorry? It was a joke, we arent actually married? Are you okay? Wake up? Please, I dont want to have to explain it to the guys?" His voice is concerned which makes my heart feel warm.

I open my eyes to meet his. This is going to be a story to tell the grand kiddies one day. Patrick stump told a joke and I passed out... In his arms.

I force myself to sitting quickly and his arms force me to slow down.

"Im sorry, it was a joke. I dont tell jokes often. I guess I know why." He rambles.

It suddenly hits me. Where is Jasmine? I freak out, getting to my feet as fast as I can physically manage. I pat myself down for my phone. Its not in my pockets. Then again, Im not wearing my clothes. Im wearing a big Fall Out Boy top and some shorts.

I rush out, towards his room, and start searching for my phone. I need to call Jasmine. I throw pillows across the bed, the duvet flung onto the ground.

"You seemed a lot more relaxed when you were drunk and trying to seduce me yesterday." Patrick notes from the doorway.

I turn to see him, raising my eyebrows. His silhouette leaning against the doorway.

"You can guess that today is not my day. Now, wheres my phone?" I answer, going back to rummaging.

"Yeah, here it is." Patrick pulls it from a side draw and hands it over.

"Right. Who should I call first." I mumble to myself.

"Your parents?" Patrick suggests.

I laugh too loud before realising he doesnt know.

"Is that a bad option?"

"Is that a bad option? Yes. Now, Jasmine." I say, ringing Jasmine.

He soft voice answers the other side. "Jesse! You arent dead!"

"Surprisingly." I mutter.

"But seriously, where did you end up? You left with someone so I had to walk home alone."

"The usual. Nothing too important or note worthy. I have a story or two if I ever get back to work."

I cover my hand over the mic and ask Patrick, "How far away are we from the club?"

"A couple of blocks." He says with a smile.

I lift my hand off the mic. "Ill be at work in 15 minutes, okay?"

"Yeah, Ill see you soon. Bitch face is in soon and wont be happy!" She sings.

I hang up and turn to look at Patrick. "Is this appropriate to wear for work?"

He looks me down and pulls a face.

"Ill work it out when I get there."

I pull all my stuff together and stuff it into my handbag.

"You can keep the top by the way, I have hundreds of them." He says.

"Thanks, I wasnt planning to turn up to work in anything else." I walk towards the door. "Well, thanks for... That... Dont plan on seeing me again, but... Its been a ride."

"Ill see you around." Patrick grins.

"Doubt it." I grimace.

The door opens before I can open it myself and I find myself about 3 inches away from Pete Wentz.