We're Only Liars // Peterick

☆Though Change Will Come☆

*Right Munchkins, im currently writing this and writing up my favourite book (which you can find in my works <---self promoting, bad Courtney!) Well anyway that could mean slow updates, it depends. I want to be able to do one update of this a week (as per usual) and 2 of 'Buried Thunder' even know im copying ITS STILL HARD WORK MAN, I GOT TO DO ALL THIS ON MY PHONE...MY PHONE!?! Anyways on with my expectantly long fanfic (i mean lyk 70 parts long, literally, or more idek)...*

Pete's POV

"Patrick! Patrick, open the door!" My reddened fist was becoming sore due to my constant knocking, but he's been in there for a while and im feeling a little paranoid. "Please Patrick, open up man. I-I..Need to know your like, y'know okay?.." It was pointless, he wasn't listening to me. I just hope he hasn't done anything stupid. But what if he has? What if he's lying dead in there? what if? If, if, if. So many ifs but no real answer.

I looked at the door and tried the knob, no luck. So I took option B and located the spare key from the top of the frame, I remember he used to keep a key here for emergencys. Better to be safe than sorry. I slid the shaped metal in and turned it too produce a heavy click that echoed in the dense silence, the knob edged a bit in its position. Do I open it or not? I took a look around his bedroom before placing my clammy hand out and onto the rounded glass handle.

I twisted the knob cautiously and I could feel the heat proceeding from under the door. I was met by excessive steam as the door hinged open though, excessive steam and also a figure in the mist. The figure was standing up and retrieving a object from the radiator.

"Patrick?" I spoke quietly, the firgure turned and the fog died down. "You okay?"

He stepped forward clad in a black robe, dirty blond hair messy and damp, available skin sheening yet showing the marks of before; the deep cuts and purplish bruises that lined his brow and cheek were very extensive. I felt unbelievably heartbroken as my eyes grazed his features.

"Uh..yeah im fine" his eyes told a different story but I didn't question him on it.

"So why didnt you answer me?" I pushed on that however. Patricks' eyes widened and slipped away from my stare as he hesitantly muttered a 'sorry, didnt hear you.' Again I never questioned him on it. "Did you want your phone? Because its over it that bag on the corner"

"Thanks" he almost whispered then tiptoed past me into the bedroom. I noticed his body stiffen as he looked around, the floors were still littered was broken glass and empty bottles. I had my shoes on, he was shower fresh with no footwear whatsoever.

"I'll grab it for you, wait for me in the living room. Okay?" he nodded and shuffled carefully out the room. I sighed and went over to the corner by the side of the bed, there sat was a plastic bag full of Patricks' belongings from his stay in hospital. His grey flannel shirt and black skinnies along with his underwear and socks, his keys and his phone. I grabbed it and being the nosy person I am, clicked the home button. The display showed 342 metions from twitter aswell as 792 retweets and 824 favourites. I pressed the lock button and proceeded out the room leaving the rest of his items behind.

The living room was vaguely quiet when I walked in, but I could blaintly see Patrick perched anxiously on the edge of the couch. The one he was on earlier. He looked so distant, he seemed so on edge, but I couldn't blame him. So I waltzed over and held his phone out to him which he took gratefully, I watched him scroll through his tweets from the opposite side of the couch to where I just sat. His face frowned as he stopped in front of one however he carried on.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket and loaded the twitter app up. A few moments and I was on Patricks page looking down his many mentions, that's when I noticed one that made my stomach drop as I read:

@tash_toozer: @Patrickstump You know I thought you were dead, but hey wishes dont come true do they? Since FOB your a train wreck, look at you. You were better when you were fat lmao. Your solo shit is going nowhere GIVE UP AND GO DIE I S2G YOUR SO LAME.

(A/N: Yes, that Is my twitter, BUT I WOULD NEVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THAT EVER, I PROMISE. ILY)

My heart seized as those words swirled around my mind, I can't believe anyone would be that rude to even say anything like that. I personally think his solo career was great work, I know it never did well but seriously? Atleast he's actually doing something with his life and not wallowing in pit of despair like I did. As soon as that hiatus begun he went out there and did something he wanted to do; he was proud of, get over it. I bet 90% of the users on twitter cant do what he did: write, record and produce the music all by themselves.

Patrick is one very special man, so talented it still blows me away to hear him perform. His voice, the magical, heavenly god's gift of a voice. He could sing me too sleep through my bedroom speakers, even with my insomnia. I never told him, but I went to his show in Kansas, I was there with Black Cards at the time. His bleach blond hair, so adorable.

I immediately reported that girl and shut down my app.

All was silent until I heard a gasp from beside me, I turned to see Patrick staring at his phone with bugged eyes.

"You didn't put that on twitter, no way man!?" Then it slowly clicked in my mind. He looked at me with a mix of anger, annoyance and embarrassment. "Oh my, Pete!?'

He hid his head in his hands and let his phone drop faceup towards me. On the screen showed a picture of Patrick: a picture taken at the resturant. His face is shocked and arms are flailing. Then there's me shooting tomato sauce all over him, a wide grin plastered of my face.

Thanks Joe and your amazing camera skills.

*THAT IS THE WORST THING I HAVE WRITTEN IN ALL MY LIFE!! OH MY FOB!! IM SO SORRY. MY MOTIVATION SEEMS TO HAVE GONE MISSING ALONG WITH MY MIND:0*

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PETE'S NUDES

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To My Grave

-shesmywinona27