The Art Of Reputation (Patrick Verona X Reader) [COMPLETED]

the christmas chapter

"Patty!" a woman's voice exclaims as soon as the two of you get through the door of Patrick's grandmother's in Milwaukee on Christmas Eve, and no sooner had the door shut behind you, a woman in an apron with tangled auburn hair and a crazy wide smile bustles through and hugs your friend so tightly that you laugh when she releases him and he almost falls over from lack of oxygen.

She turns to you and offers a hand partially covered in flour. "We've been making mince pies so we're a bit messy! Hi, I'm Maura, Patrick's auntie."
Her accent is a stronger vein of Aussie, and she smells of mince and berries. You smile in return and shake her hand. "I'm y/n l/n, Padrick'ss friend from sschool."

"More like girlfriend - ewww!" a child's voice wafts into the air, followed by a little boy whom you've been told is one of his cousins from Australia. You glance at Patrick who is winding a curl round his finger and not making eye contact, due to his aforementioned secret puzzle over whether he likes you as a friend or something more, then says to the boy jokingly, "Ah, Benny, play a different tune! Go on, help Maura."

His accent sounds stronger now he's around family, and Benny skips off singing behind him, "Patrick and girlfriend, sitting in a tree..."

"If he's in that tree, kindly push him off it for me," he laughs, and you laugh with him. You haven't been around a family in a while - your parents are in jail, which you're fine with, but you're home alone apart from the days your older brother pops in to give you your allowance every month if he remembers, and you don't even know if you have aunts or cousins.

It makes you feel weird - that plus the Thomas thing - knowing that if you had opted out of coming with Patrick to his home, you would be alone for Christmas. It's never bothered you before, yet here it is bothering you now.

You're interrupted from your daydream by Patrick taking your hand and giving you a concerned look.

"You okay?" he asks, because you haven't told him why you decided to come with him nor what it was that made you agree to come. He wants to know what happened to make you want to meet his family, so he can make sure it doesn't happen again. Your crumpled face isn't something he particularly liked, seeing as you're the casual rebel who moulded him into the casual outcast he is now.

You suck in your lips until your mouth is just a thin line then nod, and he nods in solidarity.
"You wanna meet my mum?"
You change your lips to smile broadly because, hell yeah you wanna meet his mum. Perhaps you two could swap stories of migrating to different countries with nothing? Or you could get stories of little baby Patrick running around with underwear on his head, or some such hilarious kid shit he did.

You walk together into the kitchen and you falter as you see Mrs Verona's face... because it's a near perfect likeness of your own mother's. It makes you pause for breath because you definitely weren't expecting that. It takes your mind immediately to your parents behind bars, and how you're not able to see them for Christmas, and then you think about Christmas which is linked somewhat in your mind to Thomas Milbourne as it was Christmas when he left after...

You don't wanna get into it, especially when you're at your best friend's getting to know his family. You refocus your attention on the present and see only Mrs Verona's body coming toward you for a hug. After a brief moment of oh my god please get away from me, you embrace it and actually lean into her hug. She smells like mince pie.

"y/n! Patrick's told me so much about you!" she gushes with that warm welcoming smile he told you about, and you glance at your friend questioningly. If Mrs Verona likes you after knowing what Patrick knows - which most adults hate, if they're not card-carrying members of the pool hall and school - Patty Cakes may have told some porky pies.

Mrs Verona asks, "Well, do you two want to help cook?" and you agree instantly, to which the mother laughs like she's known you for a million years. As you begin to help with the food and preparation for Christmas dinner for tomorrow, Patrick's Aunt Maura comes in too after helping the grandmother with something, and laughs in exactly the same comforting way about the two teenagers helping.

Chopping vegetables and sneaking glances at how gleefully Patrick is behaving around his family, you can't help but yearn for once that you're closer with your family.

Throughout Christmas Eve and Day, while everybody (except you, apart from a few small token gifts) rips open their presents and you all go for a walk in the park and sit down for a lush Christmas dinner, you keep this mindset of: is this what your family should be like; your life?

Should you care for once that your parents are in jail, your only brother doesn't particularly bother with you, and the rest of your family are probably in England with no support or contact? Should it bother you that a soon-to-be 18 year old is working in an adults-only pool hall?

You look across the table to where Patrick sits beside you pulling a cracker with another of his cousins. Everybody in his family look so happy and innocent and pure... including Patrick.

Should you have decided to change Patrick Verona into someone like you? Someone with no real friends so you can never get close to anyone? Someone who can't even stay in the same state as an old boyfriend whom she can't even look in the eye and demand an apology out of?

By night, everybody in the house has retreated to bed. You're huddled up on the pull-out sofa-bed in the sitting room alone in a hoodie and shorts. You can't get to sleep for thinking too much about your family, Christmas, Thomas Milbourne. They all managed to contribute to this casual rebel outcast you see when you look in the mirror - past and ongoing experiences causing you to reinvent yourself as a genuinely deserved Untouchable.

Seeing the Veronas leading a normal life, even after moving to another country and having to look after an elderly woman with a gaggle of kids and a growing hormonal teenager on their arms... you're beginning to think that maybe you reinvented yourself wrong.