Lopsided Smiles // Petekey // TW TW TW

5. Patrick Stump Is A Genius

a/n- this is short im sorry hhhhhhh

Mikey had been gone for two and a half days. Pete was freaking out, which Patrick had definitely taken note of. He was pacing around Patrick Stump's room anxiously, a hand in his short black hair.

"Pete, I'm sure he's fine. Maybe his phone broke or the number washed off his arm..." Patrick tried consulting once more.

Patrick was a few months older than Pete, but he was 22. The two lived together, and because Pete was clearly very gay, everyone thought they were dating. Patrick was straight, though, and Pete didn't like him that way. They were just best friends and roommates. The older of the two always seemed to be wearing hats, especially fedoras. He had brown hair that was similar in color to Mikey's, but less scraggly and messy.

"You don't understand the situation he's in," Pete replied sourly, sitting on the bed. "It's bad. He could be in danger."

"Maybe you could tell me, then?" Patrick was sitting his dark blue bean bag that matched the comforter his friend was sitting on.

Pete took a deep breath. He knew it wasn't his place to tell, obviously. If Mikey wanted people to know he would tell them. But Mikey could very well be in danger, so Pete had to take action. "He has... an abusive boyfriend. Whose brother is my ex."

Patrick's face fell to one of shock and despair. "Ricky?"

"No, Chris."

Patrick hadn't known there was a third, but as always, he decided to pretend he knew what was going on. "Oh. Maybe ask Ricky where Chris it, since Ricky is actually a decent human and kinda liked you. I'm sorry about th-"

Pete cut off his sincere apology, shooting up from the bed and scaring Patrick half to death. "PATRICK STUMP, YOU'RE A GENIUS!" he yelled enthusiatically.

"I- I am?"

"YES! I have to find where Ricky lives now..." He sat back down, scrunching up his lips in thought.

"We could ask around, right? He probably still lives in this town. No one ever leaves this place..." Patrick was right about this. Only a few people ever left, and those were always the people who were born there and raised to hate it. Or raised to love it, and that's why they detested it.

"AGAIN WITH THE GREAT IDEAS!" Pete stood again, almost falling over he was so hyped. He ran out the door, leaving Patrick doe-eyed on his bean bag.

The older boy adjusted his fedora and ran after his friend. "Pete, wait!"

"NO TIME TO WASTE, MY FRIEND." Pete flew out the door and across the street to Ray Toro's house, because Ray Toro always knew everybody. He knocked on the door and shifted his weight between his feet anxiously as Patrick caught up.

Patrick was intensely out of breath. "Oh, Ray, smart," he panted.

"Come on, answer!"

As if he was summoned, the door was opened, revealing a guy around their age with somewhat of an afro, which everyone admired. "Oh, hey guys. How a-"

Pete cut him off. "Do you know where Ricardo Saporta lives?" His whole tone and expression revealed his desperation, making Ray feel guilty about his response.

"No..."

Pete's face fell. He was horribly upset by the entire situation and this didn't help, because if anyone knew where Ricky lived, it would be Ray.

"Ricky Saporta," Patrick assisted.

"Oh! Yeah, him. Come inside," Ray smiled, stepping aside to grant the two fain boys access. 

The smile returned to Pete's face as he stepped inside, his friend following closely behind. Ray led them to the kitchen and offered Kool-Aid, which Pete declined but Patrick gratefully accepted.

"Why do you need to know where Ricky lives?"

"Because I need access to Chris Saporta with Ricky Saporta," Pete replied despondently.

"Weren't you dating Gabe?"

"Yes, but I need Ricky and Chris."

"Why?"

Pete sighed in annoyance. "Because my friend is in trouble and Chris is at fault!" he snapped.

Ray, stunned and startled, flipped through his address book and recited the address of Ricky Saporta. Pete thanked him and hastily dragged Patrick away, making the older boy squeeze his Kool-Aid pouch and spill it on his hand.

The two boys dashed down the road to the address, which Pete had been reciting over and over so as not to forget it.

And Pete knocked on the door.

There wasn't an immediate answer, so Pete instantly grew nervous, pacing the small padio of the house. It was a cozy, welcoming padio, matching the light blue house it accompanied. It was white, along with the door, trim, accents, etc. Patrick was taking note of the lovely colors and decor, wondering where they got those pretty flowers, when the door opened.

"Hello?" asked a lovely woman. She was ever so slightly short, which was easy to see because she was barefoot and just around the boys' height (Patrick was 5'5 and Pete was 5'6). She had on a flowy, orange and yellow floral dress, down to just above her knees, and long, silky brown hair.

"Hi," Pete started excitedly, "Is Ricky Saporta here?"

"He's at work, why?"

"Because I need access to his brother. Not Gabe."

The woman's face fell, but only for a moment, because she covered it up with a fake smile. The kind of smile Pete noticed on Mikey so often.

"Come inside."