Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Sometimes We Take Chances, Sometimes We Take Pills
The Meeting (Pete POV)
4 reviewsThe same meeting with Patrick and Pete, but in Pete's POV. Just to give a new perspective.
1Original
Thanks for the reviews everyone! Finally, I thought I wasn't ever going to get 5 reviews and then I got 7! You guys are great! So, here's the next chapter! It's basically the same as the last one, but it's in Pete's POV. And yeah, Pete's gonna swear a little more than Patrick. ^^' I dunno, he just seems the sort to swear at any given moment, just to express his point. Oh, and this time, I'm going to post the third chapter without any reviews! Review if you want, because I love hearing about what you think! Thanks!
Pete's POV
Gah, this was so annoying.
Why was I stuck here? What I did was an accident, so why do I need to go to rehab? If anything, rehab will make me want to off myself or start doing drugs or drinking a lot more alcohol than I already do, which is a fair amount.
I stared up at the ceiling of the room I was given in the rehabilitation center broodingly.
I didn't even get my coffee either. I haven't have coffee for nearly a week!
I glanced over at the calendar they provided and saw that it was Monday, March 4th.
Okay, so maybe it was only a few days, but still! It felt like forever!
I closed my eyes and decided to attempt a nap. After 30 minutes of just laying there, I figured out that it wasn't happening.
I sighed quietly with my eyes still closed.
A knock sounded on the door a few moments later. I opened my eyes and stared at it confusedly.
No, I knew it was a door, I'm not a fucking retard, but I was wondering who the hell would want to see me.
I closed my eyes and mumbled for them to come in.
Whoever it was closed the door after and walked a few steps into the room. They stared at me for a few seconds, I knew, I could feel their gaze burning into my rockin' body.
Now, I'll be the first one to tell you that I know I have a nice body. I like to use that to my advantage a lot. Now, you could call me vain, but I would just tell you that I am more comfortable with my body than you and I like to show it. You have a problem with that, well, fuck you.
Finally, the person spoke.
"Hi, I'm Patrick. I'm a volunteer here at the center, so I will help you if you need it. What's your name?"
I was surprised to hear a guy's voice. Not many guys openly checked me out. This one may be interesting.
I opened my eyes and gave him a quick once over. He had reddish-brown hair that looked thinner than mine, but still kind of thick, that was hidden under a trucker hat that was white in the front with a red design of some sort and red in the back. His eyes were green like leaves in the Spring. He wore a black and camouflage green horizontal striped shirt that was maybe one size too big, some regular blue jeans, dark-wash, faded, and some of those camouflage green Converse high-tops. He was a little big in the weight area, but not too much. He was kind of short, a few inches shorter than me, and I'm kind of short too.
In my opinion, he was adorable.
"Pete." I drawled out, giving him a level stare. Even though he was cute, I wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody.
He shifted his weight as he caught my cool stare and then began speaking again.
"Well, Pete, it's nice to meet you. Can I ask what you are in here for?" he asked.
I stared at him again. I wasn't about to tell this stranger, albeit a cute stranger, the story about the woes of my life.
"No, you can't." I said monotonously.
To my surprise, he didn't ask again, just accepted my answer like that. I could tell he was curious, but he still respected that I didn't want to tell him anything.
"Okay then. It's not my job to pry into the private lives of others. It is my job, however, to see that you are well taken care of." he said, looking at me expectantly.
I stared at him blankly for a full minute before he sighed.
"Look, I don't know what happened to you, but just because you feel like you are the only one who is going through what you are doesn't mean that you have to act like a bitch." He paused, before continuing in a softer tone, "You aren't the only one who feels that way." he said, gazing at me a little sadly before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.
I stared at the door in shock.
No one had ever talked to me like that before. I guess thinking back, I was kind of a bitch, but I had my reasons.
And what did he mean that I'm not the only who feels this way? He said it like... like he knew it first hand... like he had been through something like that too...
I sighed.
I guess my stay here, however long, is going to be a lot more interesting than I thought.
Okay, I just noticed. This is really short. Well, compared to chapter 1. Sorry. The next chapter is really long though, so I'll make up for the shortness of this one in that one! Thanks for reading!
Pete's POV
Gah, this was so annoying.
Why was I stuck here? What I did was an accident, so why do I need to go to rehab? If anything, rehab will make me want to off myself or start doing drugs or drinking a lot more alcohol than I already do, which is a fair amount.
I stared up at the ceiling of the room I was given in the rehabilitation center broodingly.
I didn't even get my coffee either. I haven't have coffee for nearly a week!
I glanced over at the calendar they provided and saw that it was Monday, March 4th.
Okay, so maybe it was only a few days, but still! It felt like forever!
I closed my eyes and decided to attempt a nap. After 30 minutes of just laying there, I figured out that it wasn't happening.
I sighed quietly with my eyes still closed.
A knock sounded on the door a few moments later. I opened my eyes and stared at it confusedly.
No, I knew it was a door, I'm not a fucking retard, but I was wondering who the hell would want to see me.
I closed my eyes and mumbled for them to come in.
Whoever it was closed the door after and walked a few steps into the room. They stared at me for a few seconds, I knew, I could feel their gaze burning into my rockin' body.
Now, I'll be the first one to tell you that I know I have a nice body. I like to use that to my advantage a lot. Now, you could call me vain, but I would just tell you that I am more comfortable with my body than you and I like to show it. You have a problem with that, well, fuck you.
Finally, the person spoke.
"Hi, I'm Patrick. I'm a volunteer here at the center, so I will help you if you need it. What's your name?"
I was surprised to hear a guy's voice. Not many guys openly checked me out. This one may be interesting.
I opened my eyes and gave him a quick once over. He had reddish-brown hair that looked thinner than mine, but still kind of thick, that was hidden under a trucker hat that was white in the front with a red design of some sort and red in the back. His eyes were green like leaves in the Spring. He wore a black and camouflage green horizontal striped shirt that was maybe one size too big, some regular blue jeans, dark-wash, faded, and some of those camouflage green Converse high-tops. He was a little big in the weight area, but not too much. He was kind of short, a few inches shorter than me, and I'm kind of short too.
In my opinion, he was adorable.
"Pete." I drawled out, giving him a level stare. Even though he was cute, I wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody.
He shifted his weight as he caught my cool stare and then began speaking again.
"Well, Pete, it's nice to meet you. Can I ask what you are in here for?" he asked.
I stared at him again. I wasn't about to tell this stranger, albeit a cute stranger, the story about the woes of my life.
"No, you can't." I said monotonously.
To my surprise, he didn't ask again, just accepted my answer like that. I could tell he was curious, but he still respected that I didn't want to tell him anything.
"Okay then. It's not my job to pry into the private lives of others. It is my job, however, to see that you are well taken care of." he said, looking at me expectantly.
I stared at him blankly for a full minute before he sighed.
"Look, I don't know what happened to you, but just because you feel like you are the only one who is going through what you are doesn't mean that you have to act like a bitch." He paused, before continuing in a softer tone, "You aren't the only one who feels that way." he said, gazing at me a little sadly before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.
I stared at the door in shock.
No one had ever talked to me like that before. I guess thinking back, I was kind of a bitch, but I had my reasons.
And what did he mean that I'm not the only who feels this way? He said it like... like he knew it first hand... like he had been through something like that too...
I sighed.
I guess my stay here, however long, is going to be a lot more interesting than I thought.
Okay, I just noticed. This is really short. Well, compared to chapter 1. Sorry. The next chapter is really long though, so I'll make up for the shortness of this one in that one! Thanks for reading!
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