[PATRICK] Life Is Too Short To Last Long

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Inspired by an episode of "That 70s Show" because I can't get enough of that series...

You and Patrick are standing outside of the bar, both dressed up quite nicely. A penny is resting on the side of his index finger, and his thumb is sitting underneath it. "You ready?" He asks you. You nod your head. "Okay, heads it's me and tails it's you." Once again, you nod your head, excitement bubbling up inside of you as you wait for him to flip the coin. He flicks the copper circle into the air, both sets of your guys' eyes following it as it spins a couple of times before landing on the ground - tails up.

"Yes!" You exclaim, clapping your hands.

"Dammit," He mutters, failing to hold back the smile appearing on his face as he bends down and retrieves the coin, "I wanted it to be me." You shake your head, matching his expression, and slip your wedding band off of your fourth finger of your left hand.

You place the silver band with a diamond accent mounted on top of it into the palm of Patrick's hand and grin, "Don't lose this, okay?"

"Why would I?" He replies, slipping the ring and coin into his pocket and watching as you adjust the neckline on your dress and slip into the bar that's bursting at the seams with people. The lights are dimmed and there's a live band performing in the corner of the room.

You scan the crowd of people, noticing Patrick snake his way into the crowd, away from you. You smirk and turn your head, spotting a young man - probably in his twenties, you'd say - standing by the wall all by himself, the hood of his black sweatshirt draped over his head and his hands shoved into his pockets, a miserable expression on his face. That's him, You think to yourself, propelling yourself forward and weaving your way through the crowd to get over to him.

You emerge from the group of inebriated men and women and join the boy's side, noticing him looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You heave a sigh and cross your arms over your chest, working on forcing yourself to cry, tears gradually wavering in your eyes and your throat starting to close up. Before you know it, you're sniffling and trying to hold back the sobs that you've taught yourself to fake.

"Are you okay?" The guy breaks the awkward silence that resided between the two of you.

You turn your head and shrug your shoulders, your eyeliner streaking your cheeks. "Not really." You stand there for a second or two before blurting out, "Do you know how to fix a broken heart?"

He chuckles sadly. "I wish I did, but I don't. Do you?"

"No," You reply, pivoting your body so that you're facing him and leaning against the dark wall of the bar, "Who broke yours?"

"Everyone," He answers you simply, turning his head to look at you, "You?"

You take in a shaky breath and bring your hand up, swiping away the tears that are still falling from your eyes. "My boyfriend...I caught him in bed with my sister," You lie, "I come home from work today, and there they are - their clothes on the floor and their bodies covered by the bed sheets."

"Ouch."

"I know, tell me about it." You laugh dejectedly. "It's just...after so many years, you'd think he wouldn't do that sort of thing to me. You know?" He just stares at you blankly, unsure of how to respond. You sniffle and ask, "You'd never do that to me, would you?"

"O-Of course not," He stammers, his cheeks growing a deep shade of red in the dim lighting of the bar.

You smirk and bring your hand out, rubbing his upper arm and sending sparks throughout his body. "Of course you wouldn't. You're too sweet of a guy to do that to any girl." He tilts his head down to hide his bashfulness. You take this chance to glance over at Patrick, who's sitting at the bar, his head turned in your direction and his eyes locked on the two of you. He's biting his lower lip, his foot tapping rapidly as jealousy courses through his veins. "What's your name?" You ask him, returning your attention to the stranger you've decided to include in yours and Patrick's sick little game tonight.

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