The Only Drug I Want ( Patrick Stump / OC)

xeShort Stuff, Hot Shot

~~~~~~~~~~~~Six Months Later

Ellie walked down the street, hands in her pockets. It was a cold, rainy day in Chicago. Typical weather. Nothing new. She kept her head down, earbuds in, blocking out most of the world. She watched her feet hit the wet pavement, she could feel the water soak through her converse.

It was good to be back.

She peered up from under her dark hoodie for only a moment, to make sure she had time to run across the busy street. It seemed safe enough, so she sprinted to the other side. Almost there. To the little indie record shop she loved so much. It was only another block away, and then she would be somewhere that she felt welcome.

She pulled her earbuds out in preperation for the heavenly place she would be arriving at any moment. She took a deep breath. She had a feeling her reappearance there would come across as a surprise.

She pulled open the door, a little bell ringing to inform whoever was working that they needed to stop smoking their marajuana. There were customers about. It was empty for the most part. There a few beanie clad boys browsing, a girl with Ray Bans drinking coffee in a far corner, and several androgynous figures with scarves chatting in a listening area. Business must have slowed since some other places opened.

Good news was, no one there would recognize her but the cashier. ( And he was probably too high to notice she'd disappeared for so long.) She casually strolled in, making her way to the vinyl. Nothing was better than vinyl. Records were simply the best.

Her hands flipped through the albums, looking for something of interest. She had nothing particular in mind, just something she hadn't heard before. Something different.

"That's a good one." A man's voice came from behind her.

She looked at the record that her hand was touching. Soul Punk. She hadn't heard of it before. "Thanks for the info." She turned around, to see who had spoken to her.

It was the guy on the cover of Soul Punk. No wonder he thought it was good. It was his album. She looked him over for a moment, thinking. He had strawberry blonde hair, very pretty eyes that were hiding behind dark rimmed glasses, and he was very short. He was her height, at best.

"Sorry if that came off as self absorbed." He put his hand on the back of his neck, he seemed embarrassed. "But, you know, I think its pretty good."

Ellie allowed herself a small smile, before picking up the record. "Patrick Stump, eh?" She wasn't going to give the guy a hard time. If she had an album, she would say its good too.

"How did you know?" He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Patrick. I'm not just on that thing because I got paid to be. I wrote it. Played all the instruments."

"All of them?" She flipped the record over, looking for a track listing, a bit more of a clue of what genre it was. What kinds of instruments he found play.

"Pretty much." He smirked, his eyes darting around the shop, before landing on the girl. "I've been playing for awhile."

"You play for a living?" She peered up, but looked back down. It seemed to be a proffesional recording, judging by the looks.

"Yeah. But that's my only solo album." He shrugged. "It didn't do too well. I barely made anything."

"Better than me." Ellie shook her head. "I'm an artist. But no one ever wants to buy something from some no name girl. I lose money on every painting."

"You'd be surprised. Even people with a big name can't always sell their stuff." He didn't get any further with it. No point.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, one that neither party knew how to fill.

"I'm Ellie, by the way." She bit her lip, a nervous habit she'd developed in the past few months.

"Wonderful to meet you." Patrick glanced towards the front of the store, where the checkout was. He was fairly certain she didn't have money to be spending on a record. If she did, she would be wearing more than a worn out hoodie in the 40 degree weather. "Would you mind if I payed for that?"

"I'm not sure if you're hitting on me, or if you just feel sorry for me." She looked at his expression, hoping to see some guilt.

"Let's just say its a little bit of both." He smiled, hoping that his answer wouldn't offend her.

"That works." She nodded. "Feel free to buy me anything you like, short stuff." She hoped teasing was okay. She'd only just met the guy, but it had to be okay. If it wasn't, there were going to be issues.

"Haha. Very funny." As if he hadn't been called short before. He'd always been short. He learned to deal with it. "I'd be careful if I were you. Random strangers won't buy you things if you're mean to them."

"We aren't random strangers. You're a musician who has an album, and I'm an artist that you're trying to be flirty with." That sounded slightly less stupid in her head. "I wasn't being mean. It was said in a friendly manner."

"If I was really trying to flirt, I would have seduced you by now. I'm quite charming when I want to be." He flashed a mischevious grin, before shaking his head. "Strangers. We know nothing about each other." He turned, starting to make his way to the register.

"I know you have an album. And you know I can't sell my art." She trailed behind Patrick. "And you said you were hitting on me."

"I lied." He sighed. While this girl was admittedly cute, he wasn't sure that he was making the right choice in buying her this album. "Look, Ellie, you seem nice. But I'm not flirting with you."