Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > My Time Will Come..(Won't It?)
The Phrase That Pays.
8 reviews"She however, was not that strong. Tears escaped her dark eyes blurring her vision. They rolled down her cheeks past her lips, cold and shameful. Pathetic."
2Moving
Watch_the_sky: Aw thank you, that means a lot.
pyrotechnicist: Hurray, my tink is proud of me! :D I Miss you!
fob1215: don’t go nuts yet! I have new chapter for you!
TangerineSky: And you miss! No eye-gouging! Lol Cause this one if for you and your pretty lil eyes!
|Okay, this chapter is a little shorter than most buttt I had to end it a certain point. (the chapter not the story.) And its different…it has music! So open your Itunes or whatever and click on The Academy Is…’s “Everything We Had.” Have it ready because at one point in the story it will tell you to press play. J Let the song play until the end and hopefully it will make your…reading experience more fun. -Z.|
With a snap, he closed his sidekick and Patrick stared at it like it might grow fangs or spout poison. So far it hadn’t helped him at all. Travie took a step forward incase his friend couldn’t hold himself together because it really did look like Patrick was going to keel over. “What is it?” Travie demanded. “Where is she?”
Patrick struggled to process Cali’s words a bit better. He had heard her but it was like a part of him didn’t want to understand. No, understanding it would be like accepting it.
“Patrick?” Travie insisted, trying to bring him back to reality.
“She’s not here.”
Patrick’s voice was so low that Travie wasn’t sure he had heard it at first. “Huh?”
“She’s not here,” Patrick repeated, louder. He swallowed the lump in his throat, not really sure what to do anymore. What now, what now?
Travie seemed to understand with those few words and he opened his mouth then closed it again. There wasn’t much he could say. “…I’m sorry, man.” He paused. “Do you think…do you still want to find her?”
“No. There’s no point. Just…just forget it, its useless. She wouldn’t talk to me anyway.”
Patrick turned on his heel and started his way back to the exit, sure that the world had basically stopped turning at that moment. He should have someone tattoo the words ‘Failure. Asshole. Moron. Idiot. Fuck Up. Jerk and Stupid” all over his face and arms because that’s how he felt. For once he truly felt like he had lost something that he couldn’t get back.
Travie stared after his friend. He felt the need to shake Patrick until he came to his senses. Predicaments, regret, it was everywhere but only if you gave it the chance. And there was no way that Travie was going to let Patrick give fate that chance.
“Ay, now, hold up!” He jogged after Patrick who kept walking. “Ay, you still have time.” He whipped the boy around. “I’d be a bad friend if I let you walk off. But you. You’d be a damn fool to let her get away.”
Patrick bit his lip in defeat. “There’s no point,” He sighed. “She hates me. I screwed her over, Travie and people like her don’t give people like me other chances.”
“I don’t care!” Travie said firmly. “Go after her. I know her. You know her. There’s no way she could ever truly hate you and you know it.” His eyes softened. “Come on, dude…” He raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Don’t do something that you’ll regret.”
Patrick mingled with the thought, evidently apprehensive about his abilities to win back the only girl who had ever respected him. “Okay,” He whispered to himself before meeting Travie’s gaze. “What are we waiting for? We only have thirty minutes!”
*
In less than the six minutes it had taken them to get back to their car Patrick had transformed back into the nervous, jumpy, excited paranoid wreck he had been before. He spent the next twenty minutes glaring at road signs and stop lights and anything that might have a hand in stopping his crusade to win back his girl. He had to keep hand on the car seat to hold himself down otherwise he was going to jump out of his seat. “Right there! Right there, Travie! Put your signal light on!”
“Cut it out, Patrick. I happen to know where O’Hare is too.” Travie shot Patrick a glare of annoyance and flicked his signal light on to exit to the right.
Patrick pouted. “Then why are you driving so slow?!”
“I was going eighty!”
Patrick just crossed his arms, a wave of anxiety washing over him. He had nothing to say; all of his words were trapped in his mouth and there was this little part of him that was so scared to say anything at all because the last time he had done so, he had lost Troi. Words just didn’t seem to be his strong point anymore.
Travie cast a quick sideways glance and made sure his now mime like friend was still breathing. “Don’t worry, man. You still have time.”
Travie’s words were not that much of a reassurance to Patrick when time seemed to be slipping away with every breath he took. It was almost enough to make him want to stop doing so. His head kept spinning and it was hard for him to concentrate on much of anything other the digital clock on the radio. Was it just him or was time skipping numbers? He sat up and leaned forward to eye the clock.
The he groaned and slumped back. It was no use! On time or not, it didn’t make a difference. She was never going to forgive him for the kinds of daggers he had thrown at her. Those words had been below the belt and he had known at the time but it was like he had been watching himself from the corner. Like there was nothing he could but watch as ripped her apart. He had enjoyed it. Knowing that she actually felt like she wasn’t good enough, knowing that if he wanted her, he could have her. He had liked it and he didn’t know why.
He dropped his head into his hands.
“Get out.”
Patrick’s head snapped up.
“What?”
“Get out,” Travie repeated, “Where here.”
A few seconds pass then Patrick understood. “Oh…..OH!” He fumbled with his seat belt which refused to function properly and growled. “Fuck!” Then it shook it off and when he was out, slammed the door without a care. His shoes tapped against the pavement once again, reminded him how slow he seemed to be running. The sounds jeered as he panted across the parking lot and pushed his way through the crowds of people crossing the floors like cars.
His eyes were dancing like wildfire, scanning every inch of any electronic monitor they passed. Everything was posted except the info that he wanted. Why the hell was the world against him? Someone answered his prayers and suddenly Texas at 6:10 was being called over the intercom and Patrick followed the terminal numbers, once again, shoving through people.
“’Scuse me; sorry! Whoops, oh, Sorry!”
“Please,” He caught himself at the edge of a counter and caught his breath. “I need—to—know—is this the terminal to Texas? PLEASE.”
The woman who was taking tickets raised an eyebrow with disdain. She clearly did not care that Patrick was in hurry and she clearly did not care that he looked like he was close to tears. “Sir, do you have your ticket?” Her flat toneless voice made Patrick was to growl.
“No, listen, I just need to talk to someone on that plane—“
“—Sir you need a ticket.”
“No, you don’t understand, I just need to speak someone—“
“—Then get a ticket.” She said. Someone behind Patrick muttered something in impatience and Patrick ignored him. He wasn’t leaving until they let him through.
“Please!”
“Sir, I’m going to have to call security. You can’t get on the plane without a ticket.”
“Lady, please just let me go talk to—“
She glared and picked up the phone. “I’m not going to ask you again.” More muttering occurred behind him and someone growled ‘Get the fuck out of the way. We have to be somewhere!’
“Oh, fuck it,” Patrick dismissed the woman with a glowering stare and headed for the tunnel. He hopped right over those stupid red ropes. “Wait, you’re not allowed in there,” the woman called after him but of course he ignored her stupid orders. If she was going to make a scene with him, he was going to make one too.
“Troi!” He yelled the name, heading for the tunnel. He hadn’t counted on a security guard being there and now it looked like he wasn’t going anywhere. Fuck.
Before he could duck past the guard, the man took a step forward, one arm out. “Whoa, whoa, you got a ticket?” Patrick didn’t bother to answer, he figured if he ran fast enough he wouldn’t have to. Not the smartest idea.
“Hey!” The guard grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him backwards so fast that Patrick didn’t have a chance. His shoes slid on the floor as he tried to escape the man’s grasp. “TROI!”
“Sir, if you can’t settle down, I’m going to have to have you escorted out of the building. Now if—“
“—Troi!” Patrick ignored the man’s word and struggled to break loose of the guard’s hold. “Alright, I’m not gonn—“
Patrick fought against the man’s hold. His face twisted into frustration and the man held firmly, walking him to the wall. Suddenly Patrick’s face was being pushed into the wall and he had a feeling he was going to be arrested.
“Patrick?”
Troi’s voice made Patrick freeze in his spot and stop his struggle against the security guard whose expression went into confusion when the boy finally stopped fighting against him. The voice made Patrick stomach’s do summersaults. It made his throat close up. It made his heart race and yet it was like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen either. The heat was crawling along his neck for so many different reasons.
Troi’s eyebrow’s pulled closer and she stood there in utter confusion. The only reason she had turned around was because she could have sworn she had heard someone shouting her name and now she wished she hadn’t turned back. She backtracked. She would rather not have to deal with Patrick right now. Or ever.
“Wait!” Patrick shot the guard such a pleading look that he actually released him. Grateful for the freedom Patrick rushed forward, palms facing outward as if to prove to Troi that he wasn’t going to harm her. She recoiled anyway and tried to speak coldly but it came out more timid. “Patrick, what….are you doing here? How did you find me?” She really didn’t want him to answer that, it was just a reflex to ask.
He stared at the ground hesitantly for a second before meeting her eyes which to his expectance held no warmth for him. “Uh, Cali told me. Listen, Troi…You can’t leave.” The words sounded like they cost him. A very small part of her was hopefully. He sounded sincere! But then, he had sounded so sincere when they had first had sex, too.
“Gee and yet I am…” Maybe if she was mean and sarcastic this wouldn’t hurt so much when she left….but no, it hurt her more that it hurt him. He did flinch a little, though…
“Please, just hear me out—“
“—I don’t want to hear you out, Patrick. I just want to leave.” There was nothing left for her to say to him and there was nothing else that he could say to her that she could possibly want to hear. She was so tired. So worn from all the pain.
“But I love you!” The words were strong were his eyes betrayed him; like he wasn’t sure how she would react—and he wasn’t. Like he had been holding back for too long.
The words may have been a surprise for him but they did nothing for her. She rolled her eyes in exhaustion and shook her head; all the while trying not to cry. It had to be pathetic they way he could get such a rise out of her using such simply words that should have meant so much. She shook her head. “I don’t have time for this.” The security guard tapped his foot in a way that meant ‘hurry up, we’re waiting on you.’
“But Tro—“ She put a hand up to silence him.
“I can’t do this right now, Patrick. I have to get on the plane.” She bit her lip. The urge to cry was so strong…maybe it was better if she just did.
“Don’t! Just listen to me! Just stay here and listen to me. I love you. I’m sorry!” Tears threatened to break him but pride kept them behind his eyes.
She however, was not that strong. Tears escaped her dark eyes blurring her vision. They rolled down her cheeks past her lips, cold and shameful. Pathetic. She was faintly aware that there was a small group of people watching them. His words had stung. She had a feeling that they weren’t supposed to sting but they did anyway. “Excuse me, I’m sorry,” she apologized to the security guard. “I have to go.”
“Please!” Patrick wasn’t going to let this go and that made it harder for her to stop her tears. Why was he so bent on making her believe him? She had already played this game with him and in the end she always lost. She knew how the ending turned out and this time she refused to let him fool her again.
“Patrick. I have to go.”
“Troi!” The cry was hopeless and he knew it. He grabbed a hold of her hand and she wrenched it away as if his touch burned and shook her head. The tears were still there.
“It’s you!” He insisted. “Its always been you!” His soft green eyes were impossible to resist but she had to otherwise she would burst into tears and she couldn’t do that, she couldn’t. She backed into the tunnel, her eyes never leaving his…then she turned, the image too much for her.
“Troi!”
She didn’t look back.
As soon as she was sure she was out of his sight the tears came tumbling down, the pain of letting go filled her. It was sharp but subtle pain in her chest that made her want to lie on the ground and stay there. It made her eyes sting and her head spin as she boarded onto the plane. If what she had done was supposed to be the right thing then why did it feel so wrong? Why did it feel like she was giving up the only chance she ever had? Her hands shook.
People stared shamelessly as she passed through the isle. Their eyes bothered her. It was like they were trying to pry into her secrets. She used the little concentration she could muster ignore them and find her seat and the flight attendant smiled commercially and proceeded to standing there in wait as she fastened her seat belt. The lady patted her head like she was a child and Troi withdrew from her until she turned to another person.
PLAY SONG NOW
What is just him or had everything gone muted? Patrick stood, rooted to his spot and stared, not really seeing anything. The people moving around him didn’t feel real. They lips moved but he couldn’t hear their words. Travie stepped in front of him but he was silent and Patrick didn’t know whether it was because he didn’t know what to say or because everything had suddenly gone silent. There were invisible cotton balls in his ears, and more in his mouth holding back the words he didn’t have. He would have preferred to not cry but that was apparently not an option because something wet was running down his cheeks. A drop ran along his nose and another obscured his vision.
It was over. It was really and truly over and right now she was getting on that plane and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Not even now, when he wanted to. When he needed to do.
His bottom lip trembled a little and for just a second he looked like a child, lost and afraid. There would never be another person to look at him the same way she had looked him that night he had picked her up. She had been so trusting…so…innocent. He felt a stab of guilt. He had taken that and crushed it.
Its not like had planned such things to her. He hadn’t sat in his room and practiced breaking her heart. It had just happened that way. It had to. Not because it was her. No, never because it was her; she had just been a causality; in the way. She had been part of something deeper than sexual desire. Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He had gone so long not knowing love that whatever had been left of his heart and sympathy, had withered away and only a ghost had remained. It had been an illusion, just like when would pretend that Cindee loved him. And as time drug on it become clearer, more comprehensible. If you didn’t let yourself fall in love then you never had to worry about being hurt. If you were always the one breaking hearts than no one ever got the chance to hurt yours. He had become the person that he sang about, that Pete wrote about. He had become the person who had hurt him and in doing so he had lost all sense of compassion and become hollow and now that he was empty it made him sick to his stomach. He was no longer the person he used to be. He was no longer the person who wrestled his best friend for the remote on Saturday mornings. He wasn’t the person who listened to went to the park and swung on swings even if it made him feel a bit stupid.
“Come on,” Travie whispered, nodding his head.
Patrick sniffed and wipes his wet eyes with the back of his sleeve. The tears just replaced themselves so why bother? He followed his friend in a state of numbness. Sometimes people said that when they were sad but this was real. He couldn’t feel anything anymore and he honestly didn’t care if he ever did again.
Awkward as they were, Travie had to keep shooting glances at Patrick to make sure he was going to make it. He didn’t bother to make jokes or anything. Patrick wouldn’t have cracked a smile even if had tried and this made Travie feel helpless.
*
Troi licked her dry lips. She kept staring around the plane, looking at various people; all of them sharing one thing in common: they looked happy. They looked so happy that it made her want to throw up and cry and ask someone she didn’t look like that. How was she leaving when she was so in love? More so, why did she love him like she did?
*
The car ride was silent. It didn’t matter though, Patrick didn’t have it in him to hold a conversation with anyone. It was deathly awkward for both of them, but mostly for Patrick. He was waiting for Travie to look at him and acknowledge his failure. To reprimand him for always taking her for granted. He waited and to his relief Travie could tap on the steering wheel and stare straight ahead. He was glad for that. The roaring tranquility however was killing him. The hum of the AC sounded like deafening winds and the engine was so loud it seemed to fill the car and make Patrick’s ears ring.
They didn’t stop anywhere. They didn’t speak when they got home. For an entire minute they’re gazes met and Travie nodded. This was what Patrick wanted. Sometimes you had to do things alone.
Travie waited to make sure Patrick could make it and when he was sure he could, the engine roared back to life and Patrick slumped up the stairs to Troi’s apartment because without no one there it would be like cutting off the last tie he had with her and he was too weak to do that. Spare keys do come in handy.
Her room was empty and barren.
Even the sheets on her bed were cold. His skin prickled at he lay down and hugged her pillow. The only distracting him from her was that his phone was blinking to let him know he had a new voicemail.
“Um…Hey, Patrick.” Troi’s voice was choked and unsure. “Uh, I don’t quite know why I called you, I just know, that, maybe, Um…fuck, hang on…Miss! excuse me miss, I need to get off the plane.” Pause. Someone mumbled and Troi sighed in frustration. “You don’t understand, Miss, I have to get off, right now.” More noise. Some static. Patrick gulped in tension. His eyes were wide and frenzied. “Please, I need to get off,” He heard Troi say in the background. His mouth went dry, as he jumped off the bed to yell at the phone. “Let her off the plane, dammit!” The flight attendants sickly high voice made him cringe, ‘I’m sorry. But there are regulations and we can’t allow you off the plane—‘
“NO! NO! LET HER OFF THE PLANE!” Patrick yelled at the piece of plastic and wires. His body shook while he listened over the static. Was she seriously trying to get off the plane? Would they let her off? Should he go pick her up? Was she even serious? Did this mean she forgave him? Troi said something intangible; it sounded like yelling and someone else was ordering her to calm down and take a seat. The flight attendant, it sounded like, said something and Troi growled. “I am getting off this plane, I HAVE to---No!—Just let Me—Miss sit down—I can’t let you---No, stop! I Ha—“
Then it cut off.
Silence filled his ear.
His heart beat may have stopped.
Patrick’s jaw dropped like a ton of bricks. “NO!” He yelled, “Wait! Did she get off the plane?! FUCK! DID SHE GET OFF THE PLANE?” He was yelling at that phone like it wasa going to answer back and a small part of him that if he didn't get some kind of answer he might cry.
Something hit the ground.
Patrick whirled in his spot, his eyes flying to the bedroom door.
There she stood. Tear streaked, hair disheveled; a complete mess. Her bag lay by her feet. She stared at him through her tears, not knowing what to do.
“…I got off the plane.”
*
*
*
A/N: Kay, so I realize that’s shorter that what my usual chapters are…sorry.
And yes, I totally got this scene idea from ‘Friends.’
Comments?
:]
XO' Keefe
pyrotechnicist: Hurray, my tink is proud of me! :D I Miss you!
fob1215: don’t go nuts yet! I have new chapter for you!
TangerineSky: And you miss! No eye-gouging! Lol Cause this one if for you and your pretty lil eyes!
|Okay, this chapter is a little shorter than most buttt I had to end it a certain point. (the chapter not the story.) And its different…it has music! So open your Itunes or whatever and click on The Academy Is…’s “Everything We Had.” Have it ready because at one point in the story it will tell you to press play. J Let the song play until the end and hopefully it will make your…reading experience more fun. -Z.|
With a snap, he closed his sidekick and Patrick stared at it like it might grow fangs or spout poison. So far it hadn’t helped him at all. Travie took a step forward incase his friend couldn’t hold himself together because it really did look like Patrick was going to keel over. “What is it?” Travie demanded. “Where is she?”
Patrick struggled to process Cali’s words a bit better. He had heard her but it was like a part of him didn’t want to understand. No, understanding it would be like accepting it.
“Patrick?” Travie insisted, trying to bring him back to reality.
“She’s not here.”
Patrick’s voice was so low that Travie wasn’t sure he had heard it at first. “Huh?”
“She’s not here,” Patrick repeated, louder. He swallowed the lump in his throat, not really sure what to do anymore. What now, what now?
Travie seemed to understand with those few words and he opened his mouth then closed it again. There wasn’t much he could say. “…I’m sorry, man.” He paused. “Do you think…do you still want to find her?”
“No. There’s no point. Just…just forget it, its useless. She wouldn’t talk to me anyway.”
Patrick turned on his heel and started his way back to the exit, sure that the world had basically stopped turning at that moment. He should have someone tattoo the words ‘Failure. Asshole. Moron. Idiot. Fuck Up. Jerk and Stupid” all over his face and arms because that’s how he felt. For once he truly felt like he had lost something that he couldn’t get back.
Travie stared after his friend. He felt the need to shake Patrick until he came to his senses. Predicaments, regret, it was everywhere but only if you gave it the chance. And there was no way that Travie was going to let Patrick give fate that chance.
“Ay, now, hold up!” He jogged after Patrick who kept walking. “Ay, you still have time.” He whipped the boy around. “I’d be a bad friend if I let you walk off. But you. You’d be a damn fool to let her get away.”
Patrick bit his lip in defeat. “There’s no point,” He sighed. “She hates me. I screwed her over, Travie and people like her don’t give people like me other chances.”
“I don’t care!” Travie said firmly. “Go after her. I know her. You know her. There’s no way she could ever truly hate you and you know it.” His eyes softened. “Come on, dude…” He raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Don’t do something that you’ll regret.”
Patrick mingled with the thought, evidently apprehensive about his abilities to win back the only girl who had ever respected him. “Okay,” He whispered to himself before meeting Travie’s gaze. “What are we waiting for? We only have thirty minutes!”
*
In less than the six minutes it had taken them to get back to their car Patrick had transformed back into the nervous, jumpy, excited paranoid wreck he had been before. He spent the next twenty minutes glaring at road signs and stop lights and anything that might have a hand in stopping his crusade to win back his girl. He had to keep hand on the car seat to hold himself down otherwise he was going to jump out of his seat. “Right there! Right there, Travie! Put your signal light on!”
“Cut it out, Patrick. I happen to know where O’Hare is too.” Travie shot Patrick a glare of annoyance and flicked his signal light on to exit to the right.
Patrick pouted. “Then why are you driving so slow?!”
“I was going eighty!”
Patrick just crossed his arms, a wave of anxiety washing over him. He had nothing to say; all of his words were trapped in his mouth and there was this little part of him that was so scared to say anything at all because the last time he had done so, he had lost Troi. Words just didn’t seem to be his strong point anymore.
Travie cast a quick sideways glance and made sure his now mime like friend was still breathing. “Don’t worry, man. You still have time.”
Travie’s words were not that much of a reassurance to Patrick when time seemed to be slipping away with every breath he took. It was almost enough to make him want to stop doing so. His head kept spinning and it was hard for him to concentrate on much of anything other the digital clock on the radio. Was it just him or was time skipping numbers? He sat up and leaned forward to eye the clock.
The he groaned and slumped back. It was no use! On time or not, it didn’t make a difference. She was never going to forgive him for the kinds of daggers he had thrown at her. Those words had been below the belt and he had known at the time but it was like he had been watching himself from the corner. Like there was nothing he could but watch as ripped her apart. He had enjoyed it. Knowing that she actually felt like she wasn’t good enough, knowing that if he wanted her, he could have her. He had liked it and he didn’t know why.
He dropped his head into his hands.
“Get out.”
Patrick’s head snapped up.
“What?”
“Get out,” Travie repeated, “Where here.”
A few seconds pass then Patrick understood. “Oh…..OH!” He fumbled with his seat belt which refused to function properly and growled. “Fuck!” Then it shook it off and when he was out, slammed the door without a care. His shoes tapped against the pavement once again, reminded him how slow he seemed to be running. The sounds jeered as he panted across the parking lot and pushed his way through the crowds of people crossing the floors like cars.
His eyes were dancing like wildfire, scanning every inch of any electronic monitor they passed. Everything was posted except the info that he wanted. Why the hell was the world against him? Someone answered his prayers and suddenly Texas at 6:10 was being called over the intercom and Patrick followed the terminal numbers, once again, shoving through people.
“’Scuse me; sorry! Whoops, oh, Sorry!”
“Please,” He caught himself at the edge of a counter and caught his breath. “I need—to—know—is this the terminal to Texas? PLEASE.”
The woman who was taking tickets raised an eyebrow with disdain. She clearly did not care that Patrick was in hurry and she clearly did not care that he looked like he was close to tears. “Sir, do you have your ticket?” Her flat toneless voice made Patrick was to growl.
“No, listen, I just need to talk to someone on that plane—“
“—Sir you need a ticket.”
“No, you don’t understand, I just need to speak someone—“
“—Then get a ticket.” She said. Someone behind Patrick muttered something in impatience and Patrick ignored him. He wasn’t leaving until they let him through.
“Please!”
“Sir, I’m going to have to call security. You can’t get on the plane without a ticket.”
“Lady, please just let me go talk to—“
She glared and picked up the phone. “I’m not going to ask you again.” More muttering occurred behind him and someone growled ‘Get the fuck out of the way. We have to be somewhere!’
“Oh, fuck it,” Patrick dismissed the woman with a glowering stare and headed for the tunnel. He hopped right over those stupid red ropes. “Wait, you’re not allowed in there,” the woman called after him but of course he ignored her stupid orders. If she was going to make a scene with him, he was going to make one too.
“Troi!” He yelled the name, heading for the tunnel. He hadn’t counted on a security guard being there and now it looked like he wasn’t going anywhere. Fuck.
Before he could duck past the guard, the man took a step forward, one arm out. “Whoa, whoa, you got a ticket?” Patrick didn’t bother to answer, he figured if he ran fast enough he wouldn’t have to. Not the smartest idea.
“Hey!” The guard grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him backwards so fast that Patrick didn’t have a chance. His shoes slid on the floor as he tried to escape the man’s grasp. “TROI!”
“Sir, if you can’t settle down, I’m going to have to have you escorted out of the building. Now if—“
“—Troi!” Patrick ignored the man’s word and struggled to break loose of the guard’s hold. “Alright, I’m not gonn—“
Patrick fought against the man’s hold. His face twisted into frustration and the man held firmly, walking him to the wall. Suddenly Patrick’s face was being pushed into the wall and he had a feeling he was going to be arrested.
“Patrick?”
Troi’s voice made Patrick freeze in his spot and stop his struggle against the security guard whose expression went into confusion when the boy finally stopped fighting against him. The voice made Patrick stomach’s do summersaults. It made his throat close up. It made his heart race and yet it was like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen either. The heat was crawling along his neck for so many different reasons.
Troi’s eyebrow’s pulled closer and she stood there in utter confusion. The only reason she had turned around was because she could have sworn she had heard someone shouting her name and now she wished she hadn’t turned back. She backtracked. She would rather not have to deal with Patrick right now. Or ever.
“Wait!” Patrick shot the guard such a pleading look that he actually released him. Grateful for the freedom Patrick rushed forward, palms facing outward as if to prove to Troi that he wasn’t going to harm her. She recoiled anyway and tried to speak coldly but it came out more timid. “Patrick, what….are you doing here? How did you find me?” She really didn’t want him to answer that, it was just a reflex to ask.
He stared at the ground hesitantly for a second before meeting her eyes which to his expectance held no warmth for him. “Uh, Cali told me. Listen, Troi…You can’t leave.” The words sounded like they cost him. A very small part of her was hopefully. He sounded sincere! But then, he had sounded so sincere when they had first had sex, too.
“Gee and yet I am…” Maybe if she was mean and sarcastic this wouldn’t hurt so much when she left….but no, it hurt her more that it hurt him. He did flinch a little, though…
“Please, just hear me out—“
“—I don’t want to hear you out, Patrick. I just want to leave.” There was nothing left for her to say to him and there was nothing else that he could say to her that she could possibly want to hear. She was so tired. So worn from all the pain.
“But I love you!” The words were strong were his eyes betrayed him; like he wasn’t sure how she would react—and he wasn’t. Like he had been holding back for too long.
The words may have been a surprise for him but they did nothing for her. She rolled her eyes in exhaustion and shook her head; all the while trying not to cry. It had to be pathetic they way he could get such a rise out of her using such simply words that should have meant so much. She shook her head. “I don’t have time for this.” The security guard tapped his foot in a way that meant ‘hurry up, we’re waiting on you.’
“But Tro—“ She put a hand up to silence him.
“I can’t do this right now, Patrick. I have to get on the plane.” She bit her lip. The urge to cry was so strong…maybe it was better if she just did.
“Don’t! Just listen to me! Just stay here and listen to me. I love you. I’m sorry!” Tears threatened to break him but pride kept them behind his eyes.
She however, was not that strong. Tears escaped her dark eyes blurring her vision. They rolled down her cheeks past her lips, cold and shameful. Pathetic. She was faintly aware that there was a small group of people watching them. His words had stung. She had a feeling that they weren’t supposed to sting but they did anyway. “Excuse me, I’m sorry,” she apologized to the security guard. “I have to go.”
“Please!” Patrick wasn’t going to let this go and that made it harder for her to stop her tears. Why was he so bent on making her believe him? She had already played this game with him and in the end she always lost. She knew how the ending turned out and this time she refused to let him fool her again.
“Patrick. I have to go.”
“Troi!” The cry was hopeless and he knew it. He grabbed a hold of her hand and she wrenched it away as if his touch burned and shook her head. The tears were still there.
“It’s you!” He insisted. “Its always been you!” His soft green eyes were impossible to resist but she had to otherwise she would burst into tears and she couldn’t do that, she couldn’t. She backed into the tunnel, her eyes never leaving his…then she turned, the image too much for her.
“Troi!”
She didn’t look back.
As soon as she was sure she was out of his sight the tears came tumbling down, the pain of letting go filled her. It was sharp but subtle pain in her chest that made her want to lie on the ground and stay there. It made her eyes sting and her head spin as she boarded onto the plane. If what she had done was supposed to be the right thing then why did it feel so wrong? Why did it feel like she was giving up the only chance she ever had? Her hands shook.
People stared shamelessly as she passed through the isle. Their eyes bothered her. It was like they were trying to pry into her secrets. She used the little concentration she could muster ignore them and find her seat and the flight attendant smiled commercially and proceeded to standing there in wait as she fastened her seat belt. The lady patted her head like she was a child and Troi withdrew from her until she turned to another person.
PLAY SONG NOW
What is just him or had everything gone muted? Patrick stood, rooted to his spot and stared, not really seeing anything. The people moving around him didn’t feel real. They lips moved but he couldn’t hear their words. Travie stepped in front of him but he was silent and Patrick didn’t know whether it was because he didn’t know what to say or because everything had suddenly gone silent. There were invisible cotton balls in his ears, and more in his mouth holding back the words he didn’t have. He would have preferred to not cry but that was apparently not an option because something wet was running down his cheeks. A drop ran along his nose and another obscured his vision.
It was over. It was really and truly over and right now she was getting on that plane and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Not even now, when he wanted to. When he needed to do.
His bottom lip trembled a little and for just a second he looked like a child, lost and afraid. There would never be another person to look at him the same way she had looked him that night he had picked her up. She had been so trusting…so…innocent. He felt a stab of guilt. He had taken that and crushed it.
Its not like had planned such things to her. He hadn’t sat in his room and practiced breaking her heart. It had just happened that way. It had to. Not because it was her. No, never because it was her; she had just been a causality; in the way. She had been part of something deeper than sexual desire. Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He had gone so long not knowing love that whatever had been left of his heart and sympathy, had withered away and only a ghost had remained. It had been an illusion, just like when would pretend that Cindee loved him. And as time drug on it become clearer, more comprehensible. If you didn’t let yourself fall in love then you never had to worry about being hurt. If you were always the one breaking hearts than no one ever got the chance to hurt yours. He had become the person that he sang about, that Pete wrote about. He had become the person who had hurt him and in doing so he had lost all sense of compassion and become hollow and now that he was empty it made him sick to his stomach. He was no longer the person he used to be. He was no longer the person who wrestled his best friend for the remote on Saturday mornings. He wasn’t the person who listened to went to the park and swung on swings even if it made him feel a bit stupid.
“Come on,” Travie whispered, nodding his head.
Patrick sniffed and wipes his wet eyes with the back of his sleeve. The tears just replaced themselves so why bother? He followed his friend in a state of numbness. Sometimes people said that when they were sad but this was real. He couldn’t feel anything anymore and he honestly didn’t care if he ever did again.
Awkward as they were, Travie had to keep shooting glances at Patrick to make sure he was going to make it. He didn’t bother to make jokes or anything. Patrick wouldn’t have cracked a smile even if had tried and this made Travie feel helpless.
*
Troi licked her dry lips. She kept staring around the plane, looking at various people; all of them sharing one thing in common: they looked happy. They looked so happy that it made her want to throw up and cry and ask someone she didn’t look like that. How was she leaving when she was so in love? More so, why did she love him like she did?
*
The car ride was silent. It didn’t matter though, Patrick didn’t have it in him to hold a conversation with anyone. It was deathly awkward for both of them, but mostly for Patrick. He was waiting for Travie to look at him and acknowledge his failure. To reprimand him for always taking her for granted. He waited and to his relief Travie could tap on the steering wheel and stare straight ahead. He was glad for that. The roaring tranquility however was killing him. The hum of the AC sounded like deafening winds and the engine was so loud it seemed to fill the car and make Patrick’s ears ring.
They didn’t stop anywhere. They didn’t speak when they got home. For an entire minute they’re gazes met and Travie nodded. This was what Patrick wanted. Sometimes you had to do things alone.
Travie waited to make sure Patrick could make it and when he was sure he could, the engine roared back to life and Patrick slumped up the stairs to Troi’s apartment because without no one there it would be like cutting off the last tie he had with her and he was too weak to do that. Spare keys do come in handy.
Her room was empty and barren.
Even the sheets on her bed were cold. His skin prickled at he lay down and hugged her pillow. The only distracting him from her was that his phone was blinking to let him know he had a new voicemail.
“Um…Hey, Patrick.” Troi’s voice was choked and unsure. “Uh, I don’t quite know why I called you, I just know, that, maybe, Um…fuck, hang on…Miss! excuse me miss, I need to get off the plane.” Pause. Someone mumbled and Troi sighed in frustration. “You don’t understand, Miss, I have to get off, right now.” More noise. Some static. Patrick gulped in tension. His eyes were wide and frenzied. “Please, I need to get off,” He heard Troi say in the background. His mouth went dry, as he jumped off the bed to yell at the phone. “Let her off the plane, dammit!” The flight attendants sickly high voice made him cringe, ‘I’m sorry. But there are regulations and we can’t allow you off the plane—‘
“NO! NO! LET HER OFF THE PLANE!” Patrick yelled at the piece of plastic and wires. His body shook while he listened over the static. Was she seriously trying to get off the plane? Would they let her off? Should he go pick her up? Was she even serious? Did this mean she forgave him? Troi said something intangible; it sounded like yelling and someone else was ordering her to calm down and take a seat. The flight attendant, it sounded like, said something and Troi growled. “I am getting off this plane, I HAVE to---No!—Just let Me—Miss sit down—I can’t let you---No, stop! I Ha—“
Then it cut off.
Silence filled his ear.
His heart beat may have stopped.
Patrick’s jaw dropped like a ton of bricks. “NO!” He yelled, “Wait! Did she get off the plane?! FUCK! DID SHE GET OFF THE PLANE?” He was yelling at that phone like it wasa going to answer back and a small part of him that if he didn't get some kind of answer he might cry.
Something hit the ground.
Patrick whirled in his spot, his eyes flying to the bedroom door.
There she stood. Tear streaked, hair disheveled; a complete mess. Her bag lay by her feet. She stared at him through her tears, not knowing what to do.
“…I got off the plane.”
*
*
*
A/N: Kay, so I realize that’s shorter that what my usual chapters are…sorry.
And yes, I totally got this scene idea from ‘Friends.’
Comments?
:]
XO' Keefe
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