The next day I was awoken by the sound of something hitting the wall between Joe's and my room, followed by an exclamation of "Fuck!" I rolled my eyes, figuring it wasn't anything other than Joe being Joe.
As I crawled out of bed to get ready for the day, I heard voices coming from his room. Not just Joe's, but someone else too. Both voices were deep, definitely not a woman's. I shook my head and grabbed my iPod, setting it on my nightstand and choosing an album to listen to. Hopefully that would drown out whatever was going on next door; I didn't need to get in Joe's business, whatever it was.
After a shower, I fished a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt out of my suitcase, and slipped those on. My still wet hair clung to my head but I grabbed my fedora anyway, placing it on top. That's when I finally glanced at my phone to check the time, realizing I was supposed to be downstairs in the lobby to meet everyone else ten minutes ago. Hurriedly, I stuffed everything in my bag, and rushed downstairs where everyone was not-so-patiently waiting for me.
As I muttered my apologies, we were ushered outside to a car that would take us to the airport. I made sure to stay as far away from Pete as I could and I don't think he had a problem with that.
During the ride to the airport, out manager turned around in his seat to talk to us, making sure we knew what was going on. Pete and Andy sat in the back row, Joe and I in the middle, him and our driver in the front.
"Okay so you're playing a show tonight in St. Louis. America's Suitehearts is on the setlist, right?" he started and we all nodded. "Good. Just a reminder, that officially drops as a single on the 8th - five days from now, and the entire album eight days after that - on the 16th..." The rest of what he said was routine and boring until the last bit. "...And Pete and Patrick: you two need to get your shit together and make up. It's affecting your work." He gave us both a stern look before turning back around in his seat.
We arrived at the airport shorty after that, piling out of the car with our luggage in our hands or rolling behind us. We wouldn't be home until the 22nd so it's safe to say we each had a fair amount of stuff packed although not as much as we would for a full tour because we weren't on tour, after all. It was just a series of shows before Christmas to promote our new album.
Getting through security was easy and we were on the plane in no time. After sticking my bag in the overhead compartment, I looked down to see Andy and Joe had made sure to sit by each other, leaving the one next to Pete the only one still open. I sighed and sat down, glad this wasn't a long flight.
Just as I had gotten settled in, my phone buzzed with a text message. One new message from Joe.
>Joe: Work it out
That's all it said but I didn't need more to know exactly what he'd meant. He wanted Pete and I to talk it out during the flight. Glancing over at the man next to me, I sighed and shook my head when I saw he had earbuds in and was already pretending I didn't exist. I quickly shot a text back:
>He's ignoring me already. What am I supposed to do?
Seconds later my phone buzzed with a reply.
>Joe: Figure it out. Get his attention.
I set my phone back down in my lap, locking it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pete's phone buzz with a text. Whatever was in it convinced him to stop ignoring me because he pulled his earbuds out and looked over at me expectantly.
I opened my mouth to say something but was interrupted by a voice on the loudspeaker telling us to turn all electronics off and strap in for take off.
I turned my cellphone off before facing Pete again, his eyes still glued to me waiting for me to say something. I wasn't sure they'd left as I flicked off my cellphone.
"Pete, I'm not happy with you and you're not happy with me but maybe we could put it behind us? For the fans, if for no other reason," I asked him, trying to keep my tone hopeful. Although I wasn't sure I was ready to forgive him yet, I said it anyway. Even if we weren't on good terms personally, maybe we could work it out for the band because that just might have to be good enough for now.
It was a moment before he responded, his brows furrowed, eyes trained on my face as if he were studying me. "You really think the fans want a fake friendship between us?" he asked, his tone near hostile. I didn't even get why he was so angry with me. He broke up with me. If he's bitter because I flipped him off, it's petty and childish of him.
"No, but it's better than nothing. They were all so confused and worried after last night's show," I told him, remembering the tweets Joe had been reading off to me last night.
"They're always confused and worried," he spat, rolling his eyes at me.
Taken aback by his tone, it was a moment before I responded. I wasn't sure I'd ever heard his words laced with such disgust as they were just then. "Pete, why are you even so mad at me?" I asked, taking a different approach.
He glanced around the plane, like he thought someone might be listening to our conversation. In a hushed tone, he asked, "Can we talk about this later?"
"Why?" I asked, not lowering my voice to match his. I was irritated and I'm sure it showed.
"Because this isn't a conversation I want to have in public," he hissed, glancing around again and keeping the low tone he'd adopted last time he spoke.
"Then you'd better not avoid me again. We're having this conversation," I told him, trying to keep my voice stern.
"Yes Mother," he told me, smirking slightly as he glanced over at me. In that moment, it almost felt like we were happy and together again. Almost.
A/N: Short filler chapter just to progress the story, ugh. I hate these just as much as you do.
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Just Once - A Peterick Fic
FanfictionOne night after a show in November of 2008, Pete approaches Patrick on the bus after everyone else has gone to bed for a one night thing. Afterwards, Patrick isn't sure he wants it to end then, Pete wants to forget about the whole thing, and problem...