The Problem with Patrick || Fall Out Boy

it's just a matter of time until we're all found out

Another day, another city, another show. Tour continued in the same way it started, with Patrick sitting at the back of the stage and playing guitar while the rest of the band played on the edge of it. They were two weeks in now, and Patrick was starting to count down the days until he could go home.

There were a lot of things that he really loved about the tour. He loved all the hotel rooms, spending more time with Pete, and the shows weren't all that bad. He liked to play his music, and he was making good friends with Ryan too. But there were a lot of things that he didn't like. Despite Pete getting him an inflatable mattress and a really big new blanket, nights in the bus were cold and lonely. He still couldn't remember a whole lot, and he found himself having more and more blanks than he ever remembered having.

He was actually quite thankful to Brendon for pointing them out. He was constantly forgetting all the things he was doing, like going to get milkshakes for the whole band, and it was a real relief to have someone who always kept tabs on him and ensured he remembered what he was doing.

The band had a lot of milkshakes.

Pete pointed out only a couple of blanks, but they were about boring things like what Patrick had done earlier that morning or what he'd had for breakfast. The ones that Brendon pointed out were more exciting, like the fact that Patrick had forgotten that he was going to host the after party in his hotel room tonight and needed to go out and buy the alcohol.

Brendon was such a good friend. What would he have done when everyone showed up at his apartment and he forgot that he was the one hosting the party?

The morning of, Patrick was lying on Pete's bed (he never slept in his own hotel room, it was lonely there. It felt wrong when he wasn't sharing a bed with Pete) and staring at the ceiling. "Was there anything else I needed for tonight?"

"Huh?" Pete asked, drying his hair with a towel in the bathroom. "No, you don't need anything for the show. You'll be fine."

"No, no, for the party, remember?" Patrick glanced over at his shirtless friend. "I'm hosting the after party tonight. Brendon explained that I told everyone at breakfast yesterday."

"What? No, you didn't do that at breakfast." Pete glanced over at Patrick with a slight frown. "I was with you the whole time, and I can guarantee you that you never said that."

"Oh."

"What did you do?"

"Well... I was in the bus last night, grabbing my bears, and then Brendon came up and asked me if I had gotten the alcohol for the party yet... and then I was confused and he told me that I'd forgotten that I was hosting the after party tonight and then I, I realised I must've forgotten I said that..."

Pete was gripping his hand in a tight fist, and Patrick's face fell. "I'm sorry..."

"No, this isn't your fault." Pete grabbed a shirt and quickly pulled it on, before shoving his shoes on angrily. "C'mon, we're going to visit your good friend Brendon."

Brendon's room was down the hall, and Pete stormed down there and pounded on the door. "Open up, Asshole!"

That surprised Patrick a whole lot, and he hesitantly took a step back from angry Pete. He hadn't seen Pete this angry since that meeting about going on tour when Andy had given him that bear.

When there was no response, Pete grunted and pounded again. "I know you're in there! Get the fuck out here Brendon!"

Brendon opened the door eventually, looking confused, and gave Patrick a wave before addressing angry Pete. "Can I, help you?"

"Yes, asshole, I think you can!" Pete yelled, and Patrick flinched. "Let's have a little chat about you 'reminding' Patrick about the things he's forgotten."

"Ah, so that's what this is about." Brendon chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "He told me that he wanted to host the after party. So I helped him."

"No, he did not! I've been with him for every second of yesterday, and he did not at any point bring that up!" Pete pulled Brendon out into the hall. "So listen here. I've had more than enough of you pushing Patrick around. He's putting in so much fucking effort to be here and he doesn't need your stupidity and arrogance. You've done nothing but push him around since this tour started and he doesn't need it. How would you feel if you were shoved on a fucking bus and driven around the country with a traumatic brain injury?!"

Brendon didn't respond, and Pete huffed. "Patrick, did you go and buy the drinks for the party?"

"U-Uh, yeah..."

"Okay. So you're gonna pay him back." Pete turned to Brendon and crossed his arms. "Right now."

"But I already did." Brendon gave a cold smile. "Remember, Patrick? I helped you carry it up the stairs to your room and then I gave you the cash for it, because I know you don't drink."

Pete turned to Patrick. "Is this true?"

"I-I-I-" Patrick stammered, looking down at his feet. "I-I-, I don't, I d-don't know, Pete..."

Brendon laughed. Pete snarled and turned back around. "Pay him again. I don't care if you did it before. Pay. Him. Again."

"But I already did. I gave him the cash earlier. See, Patrick, check your wallet, there should be the money in there."

Patrick opened his wallet. Within it was about $5 and 36 cents.

"Paid him back, huh?"

"Uh huh."

"Did you keep your receipt, Patrick?" Pete asked.

"I-I-I-"

Pete led them on a walk down to Patrick's room, and sitting inside it was a case of beer, a bottle of red label, a bottle of Jack Daniels, and one bottle of soda.

"I think that's worth quite a bit more than 5 bucks, Brendon." Pete told him. "Pay up."

"I already did. I don't know what he spent it on."

"He doesn't remember you paying him back, so you're going to pay him back."

"But he doesn't remember me not paying him back either." Brendon's cold smile reappeared. "Innocent until proven guilty."

"You're not the judge here, and this isn't a fucking jury, Brendon!" Pete yelled. "Show some fucking respect and pay the guy back for your manipulations!"

Brendon sighed and opened a wallet, flicking a 20 at Patrick (who couldn't catch it and had to scramble around on the floor for it). "This is a gesture of goodwill. Goodnight, asshole."

And with that, Brendon turned on his heels, and walked out of the room. But not after kicking Patrick's crutches away from him while he was on the floor to grab the money. Brendon Urie wasn't going to lose a retarded idiot who didn't know any better than to do what he was told.