You're a Hot Mess (Peterick)

Chapter Two - Coffee

He looks good. His hair's darker than it used to be, as if it's been tainted by the experiences he's endured without me. Like he's seen things I could never imagine. But his eyes still sparkle like they're brand new. He's improved, he's the same. He looks good.

Mikey's brother happened to work in the venue the band's playing in. He introduced us almost immediately. He made a comment about how Patrick'd been talking about wanting to see us all again, but Gerard thought he really meant me.

I didn't laugh. He looks good.

Brendon and Gabe already said their greetings, it's been awhile for them but not as long as it has been for me. Mikey started talking to Gerard.

He's in front of me. This is his second chance, I promised him it. I promised him I'd give him it if he was good. And, well, he looks it.

I don't make a 'did you miss me?' joke, neither of us do. We just stand in front of each other. He's got a smile on his face, like he's happy to see me. I guess we've lost some things in common.

"Hi." He says suddenly. Like it hasn't been around three years. I don't say anything. My words have turned to tar and are sticking my mouth together.

"You.. you look good. Really great." He tries again, perking the corners of his mouth up temporarily. Then he just blinks. Waits for me to say something. I can feel everyone's eyes on us, although they're trying to hide it.

"It's uh.. it's good that you're still friends with all these guys. Especially Mikey, I didn't know you were that clos-"

"He's my boyfriend." I say quickly, the tar suddenly turning to water, filling up my mouth, my lungs and I can't breathe again. Always because of him.

Patrick's sparkling eyes dull, and he narrows them ever so slightly, like he can't believe I brought my boyfriend with me. Like he can't believe I have a boyfriend that's not him. Like I'm in the wrong here.

He looks at Mikey, staring in our direction. Then he turns back to me and says, "That's nice. I'm glad you found someone." before he backs away as if he's been burnt and walks away from me, down the hall.

They all stare at me, and at him. And I guess he isn't good.

--

Patrick rejoins us later on, but I'm pretty sure it's only because he's got a show to play. He doesn't speak to me, doesn't say 'hi' when he walks into the dressing room. He just comes in and sits down, humming to himself softly.

I got the chance to talk to the rest of the band, since Patrick stormed off earlier. They're nice guys. I think I could get on well with them. But after tonight I'll see to it that I never get the opportunity to. I've done my part, I gave him the chance.

He didn't take it.

And I don't know what I was expecting. I don't know what I wanted him to do. I thought there'd be something. I guess I thought he'd take one look at me and decide that he couldn't let me go again. I guess a part of me hoped it too.

But Mikey. I could never do that to him. I've been in a relationship like that, I don't need it again. And I think I could maybe love Mikey some day. Just a little while longer.

Gerard mentioned how he hadn't actually met some of the band yet, mainly just hung around Patrick since he's the frontman.

He's awkwardly standing in the corner of the room, looking at the guitarist out of the corner of his eye. Taking in the small smirks attached to a lip ring and the mess of black hair. Frank. That's his name. Gerard knows that, but clearly hasn't used it to his advantage.