Patrick Stump/Fall Out Boy Imagines

[PATRICK] Everybody Wants Somebody Who Doesn't Want Them - Part 1

You're crouched down on the floor of your three-and-a-half-year-old daughter's bedroom, adjusting the tutu around her waist.

"But I don't want Daddy to take me," She whines in response to your previous remark, pouting her lips and crossing her arms.

"Gabby, I'm sorry but I can't bring you to dance class today. I've got to go to work," You explain to her.

"What about Uncle Andy?"

"He's on vacation, remember? We waved him goodbye before he boarded the plane."

She whimpers and stomps her feet, punching the air at her sides. "If you can't go and Uncle Andy can't go, then I can't go either!" Though her "either" comes out more like "eever."

You sigh and stand up, giving up on trying to get the tutu to fit right, realizing that it's fruitless when she's just going to throw it aside anyways. "Gabby, you can't not go. It's your recital! You even have a solo!"

"I don't care!" She yells, "I'm not dancing if you guys aren't there!"

"Hey, is she ready to go yet?" Your boyfriend and father of your daughter, Patrick, asks as he pops his head into the room. "We were supposed to leave the house ten minutes ago."

You glance back at him and shake your head no. "She doesn't want to go."

"What? Why?"

"'Cause I don't wanna go with you!" Gabby exclaims, clinging onto your legs and burying her face into your thighs. "I wanna go with Mommy." Her voice is muffled by your jeans.

Patrick rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair.

This has been a problem for a while now, ever since Gabby was born. Since Patrick's almost always working on his solo career - be it slaving away at a song or traveling around the country or world on tour - and isn't home that often, you and your daughter were left to fend for yourselves, thus creating the close bond you share. The two of you do everything together, and when you have to work, you usually leave her with Andy. You and Andy are the only people your daughter is comfortable around, so when Patrick came home to stay for a while - his solo career hitting a rough patch - she refused to accept him, let him in, allow him to be as important as you and Andy are to her.

"Come on, Gabby," You try to persuade her, bending down and picking her up. You sit her on your hip and push a piece of hair out of her face. "Daddy hasn't been to one of your dance classes before. Don't you want him to see you dance?"

She frantically shakes her head no, messing up her curly, dirty blonde hair you had styled no later than twenty minutes ago.

"Gabby..."

"I want you or Uncle Andy to see me dance!" She cries, burying her face in the crook of your neck and starting to sob. "Not Daddy..."

You look over at Patrick who's still standing there, his arms folded over his chest and an annoyed expression marking his face. You can tell he's fed up with your daughter's behavior, the struggle to get her to open up to him having been going on for weeks now. She never wants to spend time with him, not unless you or Andy is around, and even then she's not spending time with him, trying to act like he's not even there.

When Patrick found out you were pregnant, all he ever wanted was to be the best father he could be and make sure that his child was loved and never felt the way he felt. He didn't want them feeling unwanted, or that they were better off alone or - better yet - dead.

But he let his own needs take priority, his music career unfortunately predominating over you and your guys's daughter. That's why there's tension between him and the two of you. Because in trying to prevent history from repeating itself, but being blinded as to what he really cared about, he unintentionally made his daughter resent him. Even you sometimes get annoyed with his constant string of empty promises.

"I'll be home as soon as I can. I promise."

"I promise I'll be there. Don't worry."

"I'll do anything for you guys. I promise.

You're glad Patrick's home, you really are, but the singer knows that you wouldn't mind if he left again. You've grown accustomed to it - the reliance on Patrick's friends to help you raise his daughter when he wasn't around, the loneliness you pushed aside by focusing on Gabby, everything.

He'll never admit this to you, but he feels as if things would be better if he were back at the studio or back on tour. You wouldn't have to coax the three year old into trying to bond with her father, he would less unwanted and miserable, and Gabby wouldn't have to have tantrums every time she had to be with someone that wasn't you or Andy.

You shift your gaze over to the alarm clock on the small nightstand and realize you're now running late. "Shit," You mutter under your breath, setting Gabby down and cupping her face in your hands, "Gabby, please be good for me, okay? Be nice to Daddy and maybe he'll take you out for ice cream afterwards or something. But you've got to be good for him, alright? Or else no bedtime story tonight."

She gasps, theatrically putting a small hand to her small chest. "No bedtime story?"

"That's what I said, did I not?" Gabby nods her head yes. "Good." You lean in and give her a kiss on the forehead. You pull back and look down into her bluish green eyes, similar to those of her father's. A smile crawls onto your face before you murmur, "I love you, Gabby."

"I love you too, Mommy."

You give her one more kiss before standing up and saying goodbye to Patrick, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as you brush past him and out of your daughter's bedroom.

Patrick watches as you leave, his head turning as his gaze follows you out. Once you're no longer in sight, he returns his attention forward and glances down at the little girl standing at his feet, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed.

"Are you ready to go now?" He asks her, impatience evident in his tone of voice.

"Are we getting ice cream afterwards?" She retorts sassily.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," He answers her question, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Then yes," She answers, straightening her posture and marching out of the room.

Patrick shakes his head and trails behind the toddler, turning off the light and closing the door behind him.

To be continued...