The Art Of Reputation (Patrick Verona X Reader) [COMPLETED]

the last chapter

So. Thomas Milbourne transferred again.

But at least this time it was because you did something, not him.

Because he didn't want to live out his past failings and you had asked Perky as a dear friend not to say anything, none of the students know why you and Patrick beat this random new student up in the halls on his first day, or why neither of you got expelled or at least suspended over it. It only adds to your reputations; so much that now, not even Joey Idiot Donner tries to talk or approach you. Now that is a good turnout.

"Hey," you say to Patrick as you pour a mug of beer for someone after your Spring production; your friend quickly and guiltily puts out his cigarette and looks to you. "I found oud what we are."
He looks confused. "What, you mean what it means when we don't wanna be together but wouldn't mind if we asked, or whatever it is?"

You nod. "We have a mesh."
"A mesh?" Patty Cakes' nose wrinkles, and you nod again.
"It meanss a persson you have a deep connection with and wand do be with, but nod in a romandic way. It'ss basically a platonic crush: we lack an interesst in actually gedding together, but we wouldn'd mind because we're already ssuper connected. Something like thad, anyway - it'ss the same ball park."
"Damn, y/n," he replies, "can't believe you took the time to actually look it up between work, school and the production. You were amazing, by the way."

"Really? You think so?" you ask grinning, and collect the money off the customer.
"Yeah. I was watching those talent scouts and agents Perky invited up on the top row - they looked really impressed whenever you came onstage."
"Who do you think liked me the mosst?"
He ponders for a second, head tilted to one side and his curls slowly being pulled over by gravity, and says firmly, "Those Off Off Broadway Cavalry Players, definitely - if they were horny teenagers, they would have been following you down the hallway hollering at your ass. Metaphorically."

You laugh fully and he laughs with you, the two of you completely content with one another. Of course, after the production wrapped you were up in the teacher's business, wanting to know what the agents and scouts said about you; after a lengthy discussion about the entire play, she came back to you to relay the information that one of them would definitely be calling or messaging you later that night. It's left you with your butt on the very edge of your proverbial seat for the entire rest of the day, almost biting your nails clean off if Patty Cakes hadn't been there to pull your hand away from your teeth.

You need this job more than anything: your family doesn't contact you, leaving you with little to no extra money; your grades, apart from Drama obviously, are too shoddy to get into a good college; you need speech therapy. Any acting job that takes you away from Seattle, you swear.

A thump is heard down the other side of the bar, and you both look over to find a drunk older man leaning over the wooden panelling. You don't see so much as hear the glass mug fall from his hand onto the floor, sliding through a puddle of beer, and you go past the bar toward him to begin cleaning it up with rolled eyes at Patrick.

The man turns his body so it's leaning against instead of over the bar, and watches you clean up with a creepy drunk look on his face. Once again you roll your eyes and continue cleaning, but when he tries to put his hand on your upper back you jutt your shoulder blades up in defense.

"Woah, there!" he jokes, voice slurred, and you scramble to clean everything up and then straighten your back to look him straight in the eye. You take a while to say firmly with no lisp, "Sir, please respect the staffs, otherwise you will be asked to leave the premises." It took a lot out of you, and you find yourself catching breath from speaking like this the whole day.

The drunk guy suddenly snaps and swings at you, and in an instant you've kneed him in the balls and pulled him into a headlock, just like your prison ex taught you. People around gasp in shock at how quickly you were able to diffuse him and take his intoxicated ass down, Patrick most of all despite him seeing you fight before. Although not as swiftly, or without a lot of talking.

Your phone beeps in your pocket, and panting just a little you ask Patrick with composure to check your messages please. You know nobody else would message you this late at night apart from... the acting company.

He slips a hand into the back pocket of your jeans, taking a moment to squeeze your ass a tiny bit to the result of a smirk off you, and whilst the drunk guy is still protesting in his headlock Patrick opens Messages. He pauses and stares, his eyes practically saucers framed by his ringlets.

"Well?" you ask nervously, feeling as vulnerable as when you told him your deepest secret.
He doesn't reply for a moment, licking his lips and opening and closing his mouth repeatedly to try to phrase it, and eventually breaks into a huge grin.

He looks up to you and you look back, your eyes shining hopefully. Does this mean what you think it does?
He nods and holds up the phone, and you loosen the headlock just a little to lean closer and read the message:

Y/n L/n, we here are delighted to tell you that, due to your results and audition potential, you have secured a place in our company.

In a moment of unadulterated ecstasy you let go of the drunk completely in order to hug Patrick and jump up and down, but as soon as you let go the man takes a swing at you that doesn't miss this time, and you fly across the nearest table and fall with a groan onto your back.

The drunk whoops and makes some misogynistic comment before the bouncers get ahold of him and throw him out. People begin to gather around you on the cold hard floor, asking about your health worriedly and offering to get water or medicine, but you only have excited eyes for Patrick Verona.

He clutches your shoulder, and in turn you clutch his arm with the hand holding the phone in.
You got into the company! Goodbye Padua High School and goodbye Seattle, finally!