The Problem with Patrick || Fall Out Boy

even at the best of times I'm out of my mind

The first show was a small one, but that didn't do anything to dim the excitement of the band. It was visible on the bus, it was visible during lunch, and it was certainly visible during sound check.

Brendon bounced around the stage, his microphone in his hand, and at one point was back flipping off the drum kit. Joe was bouncing around too, and Andy was going pretty wild during his warm ups. Patrick was just given a tiny little stool at the back of the stage to sit on and play guitar.

"Guys, you gotta let him sit a little more forward than that." Pete told the production team disapprovingly. "Nobody's gonna see him there."

"This is where we were told to set it up." One of the guys shrugged, pulling the cable for the guitar through the stage. "Apparently this way if he passes out then it'll be easy to get him off."

Pete huffed in frustration, and pulled the stool forward anyway. "Here. This is a good spot. Far enough back to get off easily, but far enough forward so that the crowd is actually gonna be able to see him play. He's a damn important part of this band."

The production team didn't argue, and began adjusting the stage lights and for the new configuration. Pete grabbed his bass and ran through his usual checks, finding his usual spot on the stage and playing to the empty room. It was an exciting though to think about how filled up it would be after everyone arrived. He'd been so caught up with all the Patrick drama recently that he'd forgotten how much he loved playing shows.

He found himself getting really damn excited.

Meanwhile, Patrick had gone offstage and was making his way back to the bus. They didn't really need him at sound check, Brendon had done the guitar stuff before he'd even arrived, but Pete had dragged him along because he 'was a part of the band'. Now he'd finally been given the thumbs up to head back, and headed back to the bus.

It was probably the fact that he was incredibly slow on his crutches, but Brendon arrived not long after he did, and made his way onto the bus. It was something about the way he moved, but he always seemed to be so loud. His feet always had that little bit more ~oomph~ to them, and he always seemed to take up all the attention.

Patrick was sitting on the lounge in the bus, after grabbing a can of soda from the fridge. He popped the top and was about to take a sip, when Brendon's hand grabbed the top and quickly pulled it away. The taller man quickly chugged about half the can, before burping loudly and giving Patrick a not-so-kind smile. "Thanks, Pat."

Patrick winced slightly. "D-Don't call me that..."

"Call you what? Pat?" Brendon laughed to himself. "That's your name, dude. You can't tell me not to call you by your name."

"I-It's my mother's name." Patrick frowned, getting up to get another can of soda for himself. "I-I'm Pat-Trick."

"Well, Pat, look, it might be your Mom's name, but it's your name too. Hey, thanks for that, I'll run it down to Andy." Brendon grabbed the second can of soda from Patrick's hands and made his way to the other end of the bus where Andy had just paused the playstation and headed to the bathroom..

Patrick huffed. He only bought 2 cans when he walked down to the corner store earlier. That was his damn soda, and he was going to get it back. He grabbed his crutches, walked down the other end of the bus, and folded his arms in a way he hoped was tough. "T-That's my soda."

"What, this one?" Brendon held it up.

"Yes." He answered, reaching out for it.

Brendon just popped the lid, and poured the entire contents of it down his throat before handing Patrick an empty can. Patrick stared at it, then up at Brendon, then down at the can again in confusion. Brendon just laughed at his reaction. "What, did you forget that it was my soda?"

Did he? Was this Brendon's soda? Did he already drink his soda and had he already forgotten drinking it? The entire thought made his head spin.

"D-Did I?" He whispered nervously.

"Uh huh. You drank all of yours, and then one of mine too. You owe me one. The 7Eleven is right around the corner, you wanna run and grab me another one to fix your debt?"

Patrick wasn't sure that Brendon was entirely correct, but he also knew he couldn't prove him wrong. Patrick had been experiencing more and more blanks recently, it was probable that he forgot drinking all that soda. So he grabbed his wallet, disposed of the empty can, and went and bought a six-pack for the fridge.

"Thanks Pat!" Brendon grinned when he got back, taking two from the plastic and handing one to Andy. Patrick put the rest away, and just headed back down to 'his' end of the bus to avoid the discussion any longer.

---------------

Showtime. Normally in a Fall Out Boy dressing room, it was Patrick doing his vocal warm ups in front of the mirror, but tonight Patrick was silent. He just sat in the corner, watching Pete play on his old game boy, while Brendon jumped around and filled the air with show tunes.

Part of Patrick wanted to join in, but he was more than a little scared of what Brendon would say if he did.

Eventually, they were all led around to the side of the stage and handed their instruments. Except for Patrick, he had a stage hand who would carry his on, and hand it to him once he got on his stool. Pete could hear the roar of the crowd, and the adrenaline started pumping through his veins. This was it. This was his tour. He was going to get out there, and shine.

So he did. He ran out, and screamed out to the crowd, and played every note to perfection. Brendon belted out the lyrics, and Joe went hard on his guitar. Andy bashed the drums with a little more oomph than usual.

Patrick sat in the darkest corner of the stage, far away from the spotlight, and quietly played along, unable to see the crowd. The crowd couldn't see him either.

It was like he wasn't there at all.