Face Down ✓ | Patrick Stump

Chapter Eight

Forget this whole 'New Perspective' thing if it means waking up at seven thirty to get to an interview at eight.

I've never been a morning person. Well, who is? I've never met someone who enjoys waking up, especially when you hardly get any sleep because you wake up every few hours screaming in your sleep. I rolled over to a mop of hair in my face. I almost screamed until I realized it was just Patrick.

The familiar feeling of having a bottle smashed above my head made me shoot up in my bed, gasping for air.

"Again?" I heard a voice next to me. I look over and Patrick was sitting next to me, hand on my shoulder. This had become a routine now. Around three in the morning, now it was 3:04, I would wake up from a nightmare, and Patrick would calm me down until I was able to fall back asleep.

I nodded in response and leaned into his body.

"You know, you could always see a therapist if these continue, if you're ready. You'll have to go to the police first." I shook my head, I was afraid if I spoke it would come out as a cry or a scream.

He sighed, and rubbed small circles on my back, something that he knew would calm down. It worked, and I was just about to fall asleep when he stood up to leave. As he reached the door, I called for him.

"Patrick?" My voice cracked.

He turned around and looked at me. "Yes?"

I played with my thumbs and bit my lip. "Can you stay? Just for tonight."

He gave a small smile. "Always."

I smiled at the memory of what happened last night. Patrick was unlike anyone I've ever met, he was the best friend I could ever ask for. But I couldn't just ignore the way I started to smile when I said his name, or when I would think of a memory we shared. I pushed the thought out of my head as I stood up to get dressed. I wanted to wear skinny ripped jeans and a band tee, but I figured I might as well dress nicely as I'm going for a job interview, even if it was just for a music store.

I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, and a well-fitting white shirt. I threw a black blazer on top, making me look at least somewhat professional. This was probably the nicest outfit I owned, even if it was just a tshirt, jeans, and jacket. I was never the person to get dressed up, I liked things simple and sweet. I did have one pair of black flats, so instead of my usual beat up sneakers, I wore those.

I looked over to see Patrick roll over in his sleep, but didn't wake up. It was only 7:41, so Ryan and Rose would be asleep, and Pete never gets out of bed until noon. I went to the kitchen and left a note

Dear Patrick or Pete or Ryan or Rose or whoever reads this:

I left for the interview, wish me luck! I'm not sure what time I'll be back, but I'll be sure to bring back McDonald's

Skye :P

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"Hello Miss Black, you are the first interviewee. I'm James Sparkson, I'm the store manager and I'll be interviewing you today." The man who I met yesterday greeted me as I walked in. He must have recognized me because I was the most recent person to apply, as I've been told.

I shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Sparkson."

"Please, the pleasure is mine. Now, if you follow me to my office, we'll begin." He said as I did so. I followed him through the employee lounge to his office. It looked how you would imagine any other office to look, white walls, a wooden desk and cushioned chairs, diplomas on the wall behind him and bookshelves lining the side walls.