Falling Again (For You)

Chapter 6

There's cars parks along the streets, and up the driveway when they arrive. When they get out of the car, and walk up to the door, they can hear music and water splashing coming from the backyard.

Pete knocks on the door because Patrick momentarily forgets why they're there, instead, he remembers the parties they'd use to have when it was finally warm enough to swim in the backyard pool. The parties were big, consisted of a lot of food, and laughter. It was the perfect beginning to the summer. He doesn't stop thinking about it until Pete tugs on his hand.

The women standing in front of him seems so unfamiliar. She's smiling, and she's wearing a pretty dress, her hair tied up in a loose pony tail.

Her smile drops as soon as her gaze lands on Patrick.

"Patrick? What are you...what are you doing here?"

Her faces suddenly grows serious, and this is the women Patrick remembers. This is the face that has hardened into his memories over time, not the other image of the smiling women.

"H-Hi, Mom."

She looks back into the house before silently stepping out, closing the door behind her.

"You look...great, honey. How are you?"

And Patrick wants to throw up. He doesn't look great. He has bags under his eyes from staying up late writing music, the clothes on his body hang loose from the years of self hatred and intolerance he's endured.

Suddenly he feels much older than he is.

"I just um...Mom this is...Pete.", he throws out.

She looks at Pete, giving him a small, forced smile. Patrick's mind is foggy and confused, and he's sad, and angry, and overwhelmed, until...until he looks at Pete. And then everything clears up a little. His back straightens and somehow he's found his voice again.

"I wanted to tell you something."

"Can you make it quick? I've got to get back to the...ugh..."

And Patrick's shoulders slump down again. She hasn't seen him in almost two years. She still can't wait to stop seeing him.

"I'm renting an apartment. I sold the house. You've been sending me these checks...and I don't need them anymore.

And the people that I'm renting the apartment with, I'm in a band with them. We're going on tour tomorrow. For two months. With The Academy Is. I'm sure you've heard of them, maybe on the radio.", Patrick rushes out.

"Oh. That's great. I'm happy for you. Although I would've liked to see you go to college. You spent all this ti-"

"Stop.", Patrick says harshly, surprising her, Pete, and himself.

"You don't get to say that to me. You don't have that right.", Patrick says, his voice wavering more than he'd like.

She presses her lips into a firm line.

"I know you've had a hard time these last couple years, but are you really going to throw your life away because of some-", she grimaces, " band?"

There's no anger in her voice. Somehow Patrick wishes there was, because at least then he could pretend that he was just another teenager being scolded at by their mother.

"You have no idea what I went through, and I definitely don't want to talk about it with you either. I didn't come here for your approval. I came here because your my mom, my family, and I thought you should know."

And for once, she looks a little guilty. The look doesn't stay long though.

"Is dad here?"

"I don't think that's a very good idea, Patrick."

"Ok. Well tell him I said hi, tell everyone I said hi."

She turns around to open the door again.

"Bye.", she says.

Patrick doesn't say anything in return, instead, he walks down the drive way, hands fisted in his pockets. It's not till he gets into the car that he breaks down. He hits the dashboard, kicking it, thrashing around in his seat. He's never cried over this. He's never allowed himself to. This was long over do.

Pete tries to settle him down. He sets a hand on his arm, but Patrick pulls away. He pushes himself into the corner, crying into his hands. And god, he's so pathetic. He's so fucking pathetic, Patrick thinks.

"You're not pathetic, Trick.", Pete says quietly.

And he might of said it louder than he thought.

"It's been like, like two years? God, I don't... I don't even know how long it's been. But we don't see each other in-god knows how long- and she still talks to me as if, as if I'm nothing. So what if I like fucking guys? You don't see me disowning my fucking father cause he doesn't."

Pete tries again, setting his hand down on his thigh, rubbing it gently.

"I just wanted to see the guilt on their faces. I just wanted them to wish they could take back the time wasted, but they couldn't have been fucking happier. It's as if I've never fucking existed. I'm sure they think I don't."

"Patrick, listen to me. Hey, hey, ", Pete gently turns Patrick's head so that he can look him in the eyes, "You survived without them. They don't deserve you. You have me, you have two friends back at home, our home, that love you to death."

"But Pete, they're my parents. They're suppose to love me."

"Yes, but they don't. And yet you have these people that love you that don't have to. They love you just the way you are. A cock sucker and all."

Patrick lets out a small chuckle, and Pete's shoulders lighten by a ton. He takes the younger boy into his embrace. He can't help but notice how his shoulders poke out a little more than they use to. But he knows Patrick hasn't been skipping meals, and he knows he hasn't been doing the alternative either. Or at least he thinks he knows. Before he can finish his thought, Patrick pulls away, pulling him out of his train of thought.

He'll bring it up with him later.

"C'mon. We have to finish the last of the packing.", Patrick says, his voice shaking just slightly.

But Pete knows he'll be fine. He really hopes he will.