Welcome to Lost Boys Ink

Let's crash and burn this thing

When Pete leaves for his not-date he is excited and nervous. He picked out a long-sleeved shirt and a leather bracelet for his wrist to hide his tattoo.

The bar is crowded, but not packed, when he arrives and he secures a seat for himself and Patrick in a corner booth – a little off from the mass of people, but not overly intimate. From where he's sitting he can see the entrance, so he'll see when Patrick walks in.

He doesn't want to get drunk today, but orders a vodka straight just to calm his nerves. He still has no idea what he expects to come off this. At this point he can only tell him and let the chips fall where they may.

Since they hadn't set up a time to meet up Pete has no idea when Patrick will come, but he guesses eight is a good time. People meet at eight, right?

Eight-ish, by the clock on Pete's phone. When his drink comes up he downs it in one go. He keeps looking at the doors, then across the bar, then back to the doors. He doesn't want to look like he's just desperately waiting here for Patrick, but he can't keep his eyes from wandering to the doors.

People come and people go, but Patrick is nowhere in sight. The drink did nothing to calm his nerves, his legs shaking under the table.

Maybe he's just late, it happenes. He will probably be totally flustered about it and apologize to Pete and Pete will wave it away, because it's no big deal.

When the server asks if he wants to have another drink he looks at his clock. Almost nine, another drink can't hurt.

Before his drink arrives and while Pete is momentarily distracted by a group of young people at the pool tables his view get's blocked by someone.

He hadn't even noticed anyone approaching and he instantly feels his palms get a little sweaty, his nerves racking up again as he looks up.

But it's not Patrick. It's just a girl that says he saw him sitting here all alone and now is leaning over the table to show off her low-cut top. Pete tries hard to be nice, let her down easy and not show his disappointment that she's the wrong kind of small blonde. Soon enough she leaves and the server arrives with his drink.

This time he savors the drink, taking small sips and by the time he's finished it's just past ten. His thoughts are already a little slow, two straight drinks on an empty stomach, but his head is clear enough to realize that Patrick won't come. It's past the time to be late, past flustered apologies.

With a silent sight he waves over the server to order another drink.

~

When Pete left for his not-date he was excited and nervous.

Five days later and he went from excited and nervous to disappointed to confused to resigned. And probably a few more emotions that are too sappy compared to how little of a time he actually has known Patrick.

So Patrick didn't show, big deal. It's not like they made a fix plan to meet up and it's not like Pete hadn't been stood up before. He wasted a few hours in a bar waiting for him. He probably would have gone there anyway. But he wouldn't have been looking at the door eve few minutes to check if Patrick walked in while he was looking at his drink.

It was a stupid idea anyway, right?

"Right."

"What?"

Joe is looking at him strangely. Like he had just been talking out loud to himself. Again.

"Nothing."

It's enough of an answer for Joe to go back to the magazine he's been reading. He had been so disappointed when Pete had told him how he got stood up. Joe was probably as invested in this as Pete himself. This probably crushed his last hope of Pete's soulmate-happy-ending. Well, welcome to the club.