happy belated birthday, hatboy.
His eyes followed her as she pushed her way through the crowd, slipping through gaps and air pockets, maneuvering her body just so in order to get by. Her petite frame, draped in a shapeless and fashionably oversized dress, had kept his focus through out the entire night, rewarding him every now and then with a peek at her flawless legs as she bounced towards the bar for a refreshment.
From the minute he had stepped on stage, slinging his guitar over his shoulder and fixing his spare picks to the microphone before him, he could tell tonight was going to be a bit off. In no other city had he allowed himself to become so distracted, and never before had an anonymous girl been a cause for such frustration.
The rest of the band had surely noticed - Patrick wasn't exactly immune to the probing glares offered by Pete on his left, and even Joe had made a point to purposely brush by him as he bounced his way across the stage. He was fairly certain, though, that any slip up or mistake he had made had gone unnoticed by the crowd before him, each and every one of them immersed in the pulsing music pouring out of his strings, through the amps, and into their gyrating bodies.
Turning to look at Pete, he watched as the bassist bid a regretful farewell, announcing that the next song would be their last for the night. As if on cue, hundreds of voices met his ears as they sang right along with him, their mouths forming the words they had memorized long ago with ease. "I'm good to go, and I'm going nowhere fast ..."
Lifting his gaze from the vibrating strings of his guitar, Patrick immediately locked eyes with the girl who had seemed to be doing everything in her power to avoid doing just that all night. Her lips, previously moving in sync to his own, had paused in their actions, forming an 'oh' before softly resting in a playful smile.
Everything seemed to stop all at once, his breath hitched as the crowd surrounding her faded from his line of vision and the fact that he was in the middle of a song seemed to slip to the back of his mind momentarily. Patrick was woken from his reverie, however, when he felt a sharp jab in the small of his back, causing his fingers to slip as he was pushed forwards slightly.
He caught himself before he was sent tumbling into the crowd, avoiding an unexpected and rather abrupt stage dive, before straightening his posture once more. The crowd had continued singing even without his direction, saving his ass as he placed his fingers to the strings and quickly found his place. Upon looking up once more, though, he realized that the mysterious girl who had been silently torturing him all night was nowhere to be found.
Without her distracting presence, Patrick was able to finish the set with a flourish, though his mind was far from up on that stage. Instead, he found himself thinking about where she could have disappeared to, compiling a mental list of places in the club to check once he was finished performing for the night. As the last chord echoed off the walls of the tiny venue, he immediately placed his guitar in the hands of a roadie, and took off in search of a girl whose name he didn't know, ignoring the calls and complaints issued from the mouths of his band mates.
The possibility that she had left for the night didn't even cross his mind as he pushed his way through the dancing bodies, hoping to find her seated at the bar she had been frequenting all night long. Emerging, finally, from the mass of bodies, Patrick's face fell as he found only a girl in an impossibly short skirt being talked up by the bartender, and a couple hastily groping each other, connected by the lips.
Abruptly turning, he hurried towards the bathrooms, grabbing the shoulder of the first girl he saw. "Excuse me," he breathed, taking a moment to catch his breath, "would you mind doing me a small favor?" Encouraged by a hesitant nod from the girl, he described the source of his distraction, her piercing gaze and deep, auburn locks burned into his mind. After ducking into the bathroom, the girl returned with a sympathetic shrug of her shoulders before being dragged off by a friend.
After hopelessly searching the crowd and scouring backstage, Patrick slumped against the staff entrance with a dejected sigh. The girl with no name was nowhere to be found, and he was quickly reaching the brink of insanity.
Just as he was resolving to never return to Boston if it killed him, he felt himself falling backwards as a breath of fresh air met his overheated body. His back connected with the grainy concrete before he could even think to catch himself, offering a view of the dark night sky and the low hanging moon.
His quiet groan was met with a curious pair of eyes, peering over to see who had prevented her from re-entering the venue. It took a moment for his pounding headache to subside just enough for him to open his eyes, his gaze immediately falling upon the face that had been plaguing his thoughts relentlessly.
With a sharp intake of breath, he observed her curious expression, recognition slowly spreading across her features. Placing her lit cigarette between her lips, she wiped the palms of her hands on the silky, black material of her dress before reaching out, offering a hand to help him up. Failing to register the kind motion, Patrick continued to stare up at the girl, wide-eyed in disbelief.
Clearing her throat softly, her curious expression returned once more as her hand remained outstretched towards him. Quickly realizing his mistake, Patrick reached out a bit too eagerly, his strength overpowering her own, causing her to come tumbling down to his own level.
Patrick turned a bright shade of red - his signature move - before muttering various apologies, even going as far as to reach out and brush the dust from her expensive-looking dress. Horrified, he watched as her whole face seemed to light up with a good-humored smile, her quiet laugh resounding with a sweet melody.
"Oh, don't worry about it. This old thing's about to fall apart anyhow," she stated graciously, rising to her feet with the grace he had come to associate with her petite form. "Should we try this one more time?"
Responding with a shy nod and chuckle, Patrick accepted her outstretched arm once more, careful to keep a light grip on the hand that was so much smaller than his own, as she helped him to his feet. "A success!" he chimed, trying his hardest to ignore the spark that was sent up his arm from the contact between their hands.
"Indeed," she agreed with a demure smile, seemingly unable to move her eyes from his own as she dropped the cigarette to the ground, putting it out with the toe of her high heel. "Oh, I'm Marie," she added, her slight french accent now evident with the pronunciation of her name.
"Patrick," he breathed out, finally processing his current situation. Here he was, in a secluded back alley with the girl who had been driving him crazy all night, and they were merely exchanging polite introductions. Had he been more like Pete, there was no doubt in his mind that they would already be entangled in a mess of limbs and clothing. Unfortunately, he was Patrick, and things like that never happened to Patrick.
Desperate to keep the conversation flowing, he quickly started to ask her how often she came here just as she began to speak. Patrick apologized, adjusting his hat nervously, and motioned for her to continue.
Marie couldn't help but smile at his nervousness, it really was quite endearing. "Are you from around here?" she repeated, recognizing him from the band that had played just minutes ago, but deciding it would be best to let him admit that.
"No, actually. My band and I - we're from Chicago. We actually got here just an hour before the show started, we got lost coming down from New York. I'm guessing you are, though?" Immediately realizing how dumb his last question was, Patrick mentally kicked himself as he waited for her response.
She merely nodded, smiling at the obvious question. Opening her mouth, she was about to expand on this when the metal door burst open, a figure with - what appeared to be - an animal on top of his head tumbling out. "Patrick!" he called excitedly, catching his balance as he clapped his hand to his friend's shoulder. "And who's this?" he slurred, a grin plastered to his features.
Patrick sighed, gesturing to his friend as if embarrassed, before turning back towards Marie. "Marie, this is Joe. Joe, this is Marie." Looking over his shoulder at Joe, he spoke to him in a low voice, before pushing him back towards the door.
"Well, alright Lover boy, but we're leaving in five minutes. Pete's got a surprise birthday gift for you, so make it snappy!" Joe disappeared to where he had come from, shouting a cheery farewell behind him. Patrick chose not to acknowledge this, his cheeks turning bright red for the thousandth time that night as he looked down at his shoes.
After a moment of comfortable silence, Marie reached out, her fingers grazing his chin as she willed his gaze upwards. Smiling, her hand lingered for a moment, even after he returned to eye level. His green eyes seemed to hold onto her gaze for dear life, making it impossible for her to look away. Leaning forward slightly, she waited until their lips were mere centimeters apart, before speaking softly.
"Happy birthday, Patrick."
Feeling his hot breath against her lips, she smiled as she closed the gap between them with a light peck to his lips. All plans to stop there were abandoned, though, when she felt his soft lips against her own. Without a second thought, she placed her lips over his once more, this time allowing the kiss to deepen. Gently placing his hands on her hips, Patrick responded almost immediately, his mind reeling with excitement and confusion.
Kissing Marie was everything he imagined it to be and more, and in his mind that night, his mistake during the show had been completely justified. Smiling into the kiss, he immediately pushed these thoughts to the back of his head as he focused instead on the way her lips seemed to fit perfectly with his, and the way her small body felt pressed up against his own.
Hearing the door creak open behind them, Marie placed one last, lingering peck on his lips, before pulling away - admittedly with regret - from the kiss. Whipping his head around, Patrick turned to see his three band mates, all crammed into the small space of the doorframe. Pete and Andy seemed to be shocked into silence, but Joe was gleefully pointing at Patrick, shouting an "I told you so!" to his two friends.
With a far away look in his eyes, Patrick turned around once more just in time to see the girl he had been chasing all night slip around a corner, and out of sight. Unable to speak, he allowed his friends to pull him back through the door, ignoring various shouts of excitement and hints towards his surprise gift. He was fairly certain it was just a stack of pancakes at IHOP, seeing as it was now three a.m., but he played along as if he had no clue.
Patrick ate the pancakes without question, adding to the conversation every now and then, though his mind was in no way engaged in the debate over which video game console was the best. Instead, he found himself unable to stop his mind from replaying his short time spent with Marie.
The van ride the next day was spent the same way, and his dreams for the next few nights were solely of the mysterious girl. She did not leave his thoughts through out the entirety of the tour, and he constantly found himself searching the crowd for the auburn beauty.
Even after the tour had ended, he held out hope that the next time he visited Boston, she would be there to drive him crazy once more.
That year was his best birthday to date, no doubt about it.
Author's Note: Happy Birthday Patrick!
This is just a quick, rushed (and late) one shot to celebrate our favorite, chubby little lead singer. I had wanted to post this yesterday, but Ficwad decided to die.
Oh, well! It's here now. :)