Patrick Stump/Fall Out Boy Imagines

[PATRICK] I Was Wondering If You Wanted To Hang Out

"I just want to be done with everything," You whimper into the phone you're holding up to your ear, your cheeks wet and sticky from crying. You're sitting on your bed, slumped over and your head hung low.

"Why? What happened?" Your best friend on the other end of the line asks.

You sniffle, "He...He told me he has a girlfriend."

"Oh my god, (Y/N), I'm so sorry," They tell you, knowing the situation.

You had asked this guy you like at your high school, Patrick, to hang out. You'd had your eye on him, he was good looking and he seemed to be a pretty nice guy, and you loved it when he wore his glasses. So naturally you wanted to get to know him, and you wrote him a little note telling him who you were (because you were unsure if he knew you exist, let alone know your name) and asking him to, simply, hang out. This gesture was way out of your comfort zone, but this is your last year of high school and you have nothing to regret, right? To your surprise, he said yes and your heart nearly exploded. You had no idea he would say yes, why the hell would a guy like him say yes to hanging out with a girl like you?

"I'm just so stupid," You mutter, playing with the rips in your skinny jeans with your free hand.

The next day, you and Patrick exchanged numbers before you parted ways. Since you didn't want to seem psycho and crazy like you truly are and contact him the minute after he put his number into your phone, you text him later that evening a simple:

Hey Patrick! (It's (Y/N))

A little while later, he responds:

Hey what's up?

The two of you started to talk and you found out that he was working on a new song for the band he's in. He asked you if you're in a band and you told him no, though you've been teaching yourself to play guitar and hope to be in a band someday.

You and him talked a little more before he told you he had to go to bed, that he was exhausted, and that he'd see you tomorrow.

"You're not stupid, (Y/N)," Your friend retorts, the corner of their lips curling down into a frown.

Before you missed the opportunity, you caught Patrick before he could leave class and asked him when a good day for the two of you to hang out would be. He replied to give him a time and that he'd tell you if he was doing something with the band or not. You nodded your head in understanding and told him you'd text him later.

Unlike the day before, you texted Patrick a couple of hours after you and him talked. All you sent him was a simple:

Hey!

You didn't say anything else, leaving the conversation open.

"Of course I am...I never had a chance with him anyways."

He never answered your text message, so you send him another one the day after, asking if the two of you are still trying to hang out.

It took Patrick all day to text you back, and even then it wasn't to tell you what time would be good, but to tell you that his girlfriend got mad because he was talking to you and that he didn't understand why he couldn't talk to other girls, that she gets mad.

"No, don't say that, (Y/N). You didn't know. And look at it this way, his girlfriend clearly saw you as a threat. She's jealous of you."

You waited a little to text him back, wanting to calm yourself down before you sent something you'd regret, and when you did, you took the neutral approach of:

Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had a girlfriend.

"A threat? Jealous of me? You croak, tears blurring your vision, "I'm no threat. I'm just me, no one special. She has no reason to be jealous."

"(Y/N), stop putting yourself down. So maybe you guys can't be together, but that doesn't mean you can't be friends."

"I guess..." You mumble, your depressed mood unchanged.

"I'm really sorry, (Y/N)," Your friend apologizes, feeling terrible for you.

"It's whatever..."

Your friend sighs, "There are other guys out there, (Y/N). Maybe you'll meet a nice guy at college or something."

"But I don't even want to go to college."

They groan and tell you they have to go, though you know they just don't want to put up with your negativity anymore. You exchange goodbyes and hang up, throwing your down on your bed and covering your face with your hands.

A little while later, your phone vibrates your bed with a new message. You lift your head up and see the message is from Patrick.

It's okay but do you know what I mean?

You shake your head and flip your phone over, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and getting up to leave the room.

You're done, done with everything.