When You Tried To Leave Him

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Five Years Ago...

Patrick was out on tour with his band to promote their newest album, From Under The Cork Tree. You were home alone.

You were in the apartment you moved into with Patrick (it was already his apartment) about year ago, right after you graduated from high school.

Your mom really didn't approve you moving in with him, saying you were so young (at least, that was the excuse she gave - you thought she just didn't like you dating a guy who was older than you and was in a rock band) and she didn't think you were ready for such a "big responsibility", but you didn't care. You loved Patrick and you'd wanted to move out of your house ever since your mom remarried and your new step dad's bitch of a daughter, who was about seven years old, had to move into your bedroom. And she became the focus of your mom and step dad. They did everything for her, they planned everything around her, and they totally forgot about you. Not that you liked attention anyways, but you still felt ignored and forgotten about. So you moved out as quickly as you could.

Back to present day, though, and you were in the bedroom you and Patrick shared. You were packing your bags to leave.

After three years of being with Patrick, you finally realized that you didn't like dating a rock star. You weren't clingy or anything, but you didn't like him being away for so long. It got lonely. Really lonely. You had your friends but most of them were in college, working on their studies. Unfortunaltely for you, you were still college hunting. You didn't even want to go to college but that's what everyone else was doing so you thought it was the thing you should do too. And on a different note, there were thousands of other girls who wanted to be his girlfriend and you worried that Patrick would leave you for one of them. You just couldn't handle the stress being a rock star's girlfriend anymore.

You zip your bag filled with all of your clothes, toiletries, and personal belongings up and hoist it up off the bed. You walk out of the bedroom, a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach with each step you take, and out into the front room.

You look into the living room and see you forgot to pack something - your small but good collection of movies you brought when you moved in. You sigh and set your bag down on the couch, walking over to your pile of movies on the floor next to the television. You sit down on the floor and begin to look at each of them individually, one of them being Ghostbusters. That was yours and Patrick's favorite movie. You bite your lip as you begin to debate whether or not you should leave it for him.

That's when the front door clicks open. You glance over your shoulder and see Patrick walk in. Your eyes widen. You didn't expect him to be home yet. You wanted to leave without him knowing.

"Patrick," You mutter in disbelief.

"Hey (Y/N)!" He greets happily, closing the door and walking over to you, sitting down beside you and kissing you on the lips, "Miss me?"

"Miss you...I-I thought you weren't coming back until...until next week."

He shrugs his shoulders, "Pete got really sick and we cancelled the rest of the tour." He picks the DVD box out of your hands and scoffs, "Were you going to watch this without me?"

You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.

He laughs and kisses you on the forehead. "I'm going to take a shower, okay?" He stands back up and starts to walk away. "When I'm done we can have some dinner and watch that movie. Why don't you order us a pizza or something else for us? Surprise me, why don't you?"

"O-Okay," You stutter in response, still in shock that he was home.

"Hey what's this?" He inquires, noticing your bag on the couch and retracing his steps. "You going to someone's for a sleepover?"

"I stopped going to sleepovers in eighth grade," You remark, rising to your feet and your cheeks growing a bright red.

He opens the bag and sees all of your belongings. He raises his eyebrow in confusion, but that confusion fades when he realizes what all of your stuff was really doing in your bag. But he still asks, "W-Why is all your stuff in a bag, (Y/N)?"

"I-I-" You have trouble saying.

"Were you going to leave me?" He asks, hurt.

"No!" You lie, "No! I-I was just..."

"You were just..."

You stare at him for a little longer, failing to formulate a response, and hang your head, admitting, "Yes. I was."

"(Y/N)..." He approaches you and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, "Why?" You refuse to make eye contact with him. "(Y/N). Look at me."

"I don't like you being away so much," You confess to him, meeting his gaze, "I mean, I get that you're all famous now and you're wanted on, like, every morning talk show to play the same song over and over again, and to plays concerts everywhere...and I'm happy for you guys, I really am, but...I don't want to be your girlfriend if I rarely get to see you, Patrick." Your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

He doesn't know how to respond, so he says nothing, which just makes the situation worse than it already was.

"I just don't know if I can be a rock star's girlfriend, Patrick," You frown. "I'm sorry."

He still doesn't know what to say. He's just staring at you. And you start to feel bad. If there was one thing you couldn't stand was seeing him cry. And you could tell that he was about to burst into tears at any given moment.

You look down at the bag and then back at Patrick. You grab the zipper of the bag and close it back up, picking it up and walking past him.

"Wait! (Y/N)!" He cried, spinning around so he was facing you, "Don't go! Please!"

You glance over your shoulder.

"Don't go, (Y/N)," He begs, "Please. Please don't go, (Y/N). I love you!"

"But...I was just going to put this back in our room..." You murmur, a smirk crawling onto your face. A wave of relief washes over him, but at the same time he becomes upset and picks up a pillow from the couch and chucking it at you. You drop the bag and put your hands up in defense, deflecting the pillow.

"Don't do that to me!" He yells at you, though he's laughing as he approaches you and envelops you into a tight hug, kissing you on the head. "Don't do that." He kisses you again.

You stare at your feet. "I love you, (Y/N)," He adds.

"I love you too," You reply softly, a weary smile crawling onto your face as you look up at him, "I love you too..."

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you for all the reads and votes for this book, seeing as it's my first "imagine" piece and it's probably not the greatest. But it really means a lot to me that you guys seem to be enjoying it and I'm having fun writing it, so, yeah, thank you =D Hope you liked this update! Thanks for reading! -Rachael

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