FicWad

Patrick's POV:


Well here I sit. Alone in this empty house.

I really should do something about it...like go out to a club and have a few drinks...or call Pete.

"BRRRRRIIINGGG!!!" I stood up and snatched the phone off of the reciever. "Hello?" I said more of a question than a greeting.
"Hi Patrick. What'cha doin'?" asked Pete from the other end. I sighed. If only he knew how breathtaking those simple words were to me.
"Oh, hey Pete. I'm just kind of sitting here..." I replied glumly. Because I literally was just sitting here.
"You wanna go out for some drinks at Angels and Kings? Me and Joe are going...Andy's busy....but..." Pete asked eagerly. I grimaced and thought of how much I really did want to go.
"Aw, man...Pete, sorry dude. I've...got to get up early...for a...photo op. Yeah. I can't. Really." I lied.
"Oh. Well, thats too bad...I guess I'll talk to you later, Trick." Pete said and hung up.
Why had I lied to Pete? Why didn't I just say yes? Oh maybe its because I'm fat and ugly and Pete would never like me! I'm an idiot...a true true idiot...and a horrible friend.
I stood up and wandered into my bedroom, I flipped on the television, slipped out of my jeans and t-shirt, threw on some pajamas and then climbed into bed.
As I lie there, listening to the news channel blaring amelessly on and on, I thought about Pete. He'd be at Angels and Kings by now with Joe. They'd be having a good time, probably dancing with girls, flirting even....heck, Pete would most likely take some girl home and have sex with her. That was his weekend routine, pretty much. Go party, get a girl for the night, and wake up cranky with a hangover. Jeez, I can't even bring home a girl once a month let alone every weekend (which was one of the only nights Pete ever got out for fun, due to his busy schedule). Why couldn't Pete just be here, lying next to me, talking to me into the night...and then I could tell him.......but my thought was slashed by a two letter word of protest.
NO.
I could never tell Pete. Never, never, no, no, Never, never. He cant know. He'd never speak to me again, he'd treat me like an outcast, a creep, a freak....I'm not normal.
I love Pete.
He'll never love me back. Not in a million years, he wont. He's my best friend, but he'd never like me. I hate myself, he would hate me too. He probably just feels bad for me...besides...he's not gay. Not one bit...not with all of those girls he...does it with. I've heard them, he loves it. All those sleepless nights I've had on the tour bus because I could here Pete's moaning and banging around in the bunk JUST below me. I couldn't bare listening to it. It wasn't disgusting...but I was....jealous. Jealous of a girl because I, a guy myself, wanted her GUY. I'd be on the verge of tears, but I wouldn't dare look in his bunk, or tell him off. I was too afraid that he'd be mad at me for it, and I couldn't....wouldn't...live with myself for that.

I checked the clock which read 2AM. Its two in the morning and I'm thinking about being jealous of Pete's bring-homes. I really need a life...