After The Dance (FOB FanFic ft. Panic! At The Disco)

~PART TWO~ [Chapter 22] Voices In My Head (Patrick)

(Patrick's POV)

Elisa lied. Things weren't better the next day. In fact, things might've been worse.

The guys and I met up to work on a new song and I don't think I've ever been more miserable than I was that day. Pete refused to talk to me - which made the writing process, something that used to be easy and fun for us, difficult and frustrating. When I had an idea to pitch, he ignored me. When he had an idea to pitch, or anything to say (he barely said anything, he just did as he was told, but when he did), he wouldn't say it himself. He would whisper it into Joe's ear and have him pass on the message to whoever he wanted to say it to. During our lunch break, I tried apologizing to him, but he wouldn't hear it. I left the studio that night feeling worse than ever.

*****

It was around midnight and I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom, my back against the side of my bed. Empty bottles of beer were scattered about the floor around me and in the palm of my hand was a good amount of pills I had gotten from my mom's medicine cabinet. I stared at them, tears starting to form in my eyes.

"Whenever you have thoughts like that, or are actually trying to do it, call me. Will you?" Lexy's voice rang in my head.

I swallowed hard before throwing the pills at the wall across from me and whipping out my cell phone. I opened my contacts and held the down arrow until I came across the "L"s. I moved down to her name and opened the contact, pressing the "call" button and putting the phone up to my ear. I thought she wasn't going to pick up with how many times the familiar ring sounded, but on the last ring, I heard her familiar and comforting voice, "Patrick?"

"Lexy, I-I don't know what I'm doing anymore," I muttered, running my free hand through my hair. The tears that had formed in my eyes now streaming down my cheeks.

There was some shuffling before her voice sounded again, "What's going on, Patrick?"

I dropped my hand to my side and said, "I just can't take it anymore. Pete hates me, I'm pretty sure Joe and Andy hate me too, and-"

"Patrick," She cut me off, "Calm down. I'm-"

"How!?!" It was my turn to cut her off, "How can I calm down when you're not here!?!" I cried, covering my face with my free hand and mumbling through it, "I need you, Lexy. I need you here, with me." Silence resonated from the other end of the line. I ran my hand down my face and sighed, "Lexy, I miss you."

I was hoping for a "I miss you too" but instead, I got silence.

I took the phone away from my ear and made sure she was still there, which she was. I put the phone back up to my ear. "Lexy?"

There was about a second or two more of reticence before she finally responded, "Patrick, I-I'm really sorry, but...I-I've got to go."

"No! Lexy! Wait!" I screamed, but it was too late, she had already hung up. I closed the phone and threw it at the same wall I had thrown the pills. The phone collapsed to the floor in two pieces and joined the pills that lie on the ground with the empty brown-tinted bottles. I rested my head back on the side of the mattress and closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes again and tilted my head forward, looking to the right and seeing my reflection in the mirror that was propped up against the wall. I had taken it down to move to the apartment the guys and I were thinking about getting to all live in. The idea would probably remain an idea, though, regarding what's happened between the four of us (more or so Pete and I) in the past two days.

I cocked my head to the side, getting a better look at my reflection. Messed up, blonde hair. Bags under my sad green eyes. The corners of my lips curled down into what seemed like a permanent frown.

That's when I noticed something sticking out from underneath the corner of the frame of the mirror. I crawled over to it and carefully pulled out a photograph. It was face down so I had to turn it over, and that's when I realized what it was. It was a picture of the guys and me from homecoming. All of us with slicked-back hair and tacky suits.

A tear fell from my eye and splashed down on the photograph in my hands.

"You know what, Patrick?" I heard Pete say even though I was the only one home, "You've changed a lot since high school. And I don't like it. No one likes it."

"Is Pete right? Have I really changed a lot since high school?" My own voice sounded in my mind.

Elisa's voice followed, "Well...you're thinner. And you ditched that awkward nerd look that wasn't really working for you. But no, I wouldn't say you've changed a lot."

"Everybody changes," I croaked to myself, my throat swelling up and the tears resurfacing in my eyes, "Everybody fucking changes!" I stood up, picked the mirror up in my hands, and threw it to the side. It crashed to the floor with a loud bang, the reflective glass shattering into tiny pieces and falling out of the wooden frame that had split in half.

My breathing was heavy and sweat dripped from my forehead.

I looked at the mess I had created and began to cry. I fell to my knees and curled forward, sobbing my eyes out.