Archaic ||Peterick||

Noodle And A Diary

Pete sat on the bed. Boredom had claimed him, and he was now playing with a yo-yo while waiting for the lunch he didn't need that he'd ordered. He'd pretended that Patrick was his son, booked a kid's and an adult's sharing room, and was fully prepared to take complete advantage of the fact that he could get 3 free meals a day. Even if he didn't need it. He smiled at his own cleverness.

It had been 20 minutes since Patrick had left, but it felt more like 2 hours, waiting. Pete looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn't straightened, nor dyed his hair in at least 2 months. He wasn't sure how long he'd been away from home, but it was a long time. It was a suspiciously long time. Pete didn't know too much about distances but he was fairly sure that it didn't take 2 months to get from New Orleans to Chicago. Even less to get from New Orleans to New York. He knew Patrick was leading him along. He just couldn't figure out what for.

There was a knock on the door, and he lept up, barefoot, and opened it. A skinny woman with punky black hair smiled up at him. It wasn't exactly a smile. More of a 'whatever you're planning, I'd like to see you try' smirk.

"Here's your lunch, sir." She said, handing him a plate of chips and a taco. He smiled.

"Thank you!" He grinned brightly. She nodded. She looked quite edgy. Edgy Japanese girl. Pretty cool. Her eyeliner was nice, too. Blue and black. Under her hotel-issue black jacket, she had a black and pink striped top, only the sleeves of which were visible. She was cute.

"Hey could I get y-" he began, but she'd already flung a tiny piece of paper into his hand.

"Name's Noodle. I'll see you sometime..." She said.

"Y-yeah." He said, feeling not unlike a young Scott Pilgrim on his first meeting with Ramona Flowers, as Noodle disappeared into the lift with her cute little half smile still lingering on her lips.

He smiled to himself, closing the door, and putting his food down on the table. Whirlwind girlfriend maybe? Noodle wasn't her real name, obviously. But he kind of had a thing for cute Japanese girls. He unfolded the piece of paper. On it was written a phone number. He'd use it later. When he actually had a phone.

He hopped up on Patrick's bed, and was startled by something uncomfortable under the blanket. He hopped up again, confused. He picked up a corner of the blanket, and threw it over. He scanned the bed
Blanket, blanket, sheets, more blanket, notebook, sheets... Oh wait. Notebook.

He picked it up. It was an expensive leather bound tome. With a lock. He sighed and stepped back a bit. And realised he'd stepped on something metal. He slowly raised his foot and took the tiny key off his foot. He look at the lock on the notebook. Would it fit?

It did. He smiled, again. He was smart. He opened up the book as the lock clicked, and pages, pictures, and a severely coffee-stained map sprang out onto his lap. It was a diary. Pete bit his lip. He wasn't sure if he wanted to read it. He was curious, sure, but on the other hand it felt kind of creepy and voyeuristic, and he didn't know when Patrick would be home.

So maybe just one page.

He flicked through it, trying to find a passage that might interest him. Patrick's handwriting was, thankfully, quite neat, and as he scanned through, Pete could read little passages and snippets. The first page was dated for ten years ago.

22nd April 1998
Been waiting to be fourteen for forever, and now that it's here it's a bit anticlimactic. I've been listening to the albums my dad bought me (Solitude Standing by Suzanne Vega, Diamond Dogs by David Bowie) and so far, they're very good. I have Biology homework to do. V. boring, but it must be done by tomorrow or I will have detention and I absolutely CANNOT be late, as Tyler is coming over, and if mom talks to him for too long, she will know what's been going on and probably disown me, which I wouldn't mind, only, again, Tyler.

Tyler huh? Sounded to Pete like somebody had a crush. Time to read on a bit.

31st May 2002
Exams today. Feeling sick so I took 2 minutes out of Latin to go to the bathroom and throw my guts up and who's outside when I get back but Frank fucking Iero.
F: Hey.
Me: Go away
F: How'd you do.
Me: go away.
F: Well, somebody's snapp-
He didn't get to finish coz I jinxed him and got my test cancelled which is unfair. So I'll get a CANCELLED mark on my Latin but Charms was easy and my god was Arithmetic the easiest thing in the world. Had some formulas written on the bottom of the table from the vision with the tea, and they were right, which means that I definitely have some leftover magic. Dad won't be happy, but hey, not my problem anymore. Eighteen now. I can fend for myself.

There was nothing else until around 4 months ago.

1st June 2008
Just found this old thing. Missed writing. It's good to talk I guess. Been travelling around, trying to find someone to come with me to fix my mistakes. Tyler hates me. Dad hates me. Everyone hates me. I hate me. But was it ever any different?? Don't want to be in this state forever, trying to fix it up, I will soon, maybe I won't hate myself quite as much, but even if I go back and fix it, probably won't matter, since it still happened and Karma doesn't forget too easy. I'm a complete fucking idiot.

And below it, in many different fonts.

I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself....

Over and over again.

Pete put down the diary. He hadn't expected that. Patrick didn't seem like that kind of person. He was faking being a horrible person... why exactly? Pete couldn't think. Maybe to scare vampires. That seemed to be what he did most things for.

He looked out the window with his now cold taco. It was raining. It was dark. It was a night of nostalgia. And that was really all that set off the tears that had been brewing.

He lay on his bed that night. And he cried himself to sleep.