Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I Miss you
Patrick flung the car door open and sprinted into the reception of the hospital.
"I need to see Pete Wentz" he told the receptionist in a rush of words.
"are you a relative?" she asked way too slowly for Patrick liking "because there the only people allowed to see him, that or a girlfriend."
"but im his or at least I was his boyfriend you have to let me see him please" he pleaded.
"oh all right he's in room 413 on the 3rd floor" she replied sleepily "but these two will have to stay down here" she added, nodding at Joe and Andy.
He walked numbly over to the lifts and pressed the button. He had expected to have been running but his body didn't seem to be letting him move.
The lift arrived with a ding and the doors slid open. He moved into the lift which he found was empty and pressed the button for the 3rd floor. The lift doors didn't seem to want to close so he pressed the button a couple more times. This seemed to work and the doors slid shut. The lift moved upwards and he took a deep breath in. what was he going to find when he got up there? What was Pete going to look like? Would he forgive him? Would he even be alive?
All of there questions ran through Patrick head as he stood in the lift. As soon as the door opened though he couldn't think of there he had to concentrate on walking, he had to concentrate on keeping going in a straight line, he had to concentrate on keeping breathing and not fainting on the spot.
He walked slowly along the corridor but then had to give up on moving and slumped against the wall. He didn't want to see what had happened to Pete because he knew that it was his fault. He knew that. It was all because of that argument. That argument that he had caused. The argument that he had started. Why had he thought that Pete would ever cheat on him. They loved each other too much for that.
He managed to pick himself up and walked over to one of the little plastic chairs that were places at regular intervals along the corridor. He sat there for a while and the tears began to flow slowly trickling down his face. He pulled up his sleeve and looked at what was there. The only tattoo he would ever get.
Hed gone into the tattoo parlour just after he had had the argument and asked for it, not because he thought it was cool, but because he loved him and wanted him to be part of him forever.
The intricate Pete was scrawled in from under the cork tree font going up the inside of his left arm. This reminded him about why he was here and he hauled himself to his feet. He tottered alone the corridor counting the door numbers until he got to the right one. He stood outside not even daring to look through the small glass pane in the door. He didn't want Pete to be dead, or even unconscious he wanted the Pete he knew and loved (not that he wouldn't love this Pete.) he took a huge deep breath and put his hand on the door handle. It took a great effort to turn it and even more effort to turn it. It took all the willpower that Patrick had inside him and that he could summon up to push the door open. He gasped in shock at what lay before him.
"I need to see Pete Wentz" he told the receptionist in a rush of words.
"are you a relative?" she asked way too slowly for Patrick liking "because there the only people allowed to see him, that or a girlfriend."
"but im his or at least I was his boyfriend you have to let me see him please" he pleaded.
"oh all right he's in room 413 on the 3rd floor" she replied sleepily "but these two will have to stay down here" she added, nodding at Joe and Andy.
He walked numbly over to the lifts and pressed the button. He had expected to have been running but his body didn't seem to be letting him move.
The lift arrived with a ding and the doors slid open. He moved into the lift which he found was empty and pressed the button for the 3rd floor. The lift doors didn't seem to want to close so he pressed the button a couple more times. This seemed to work and the doors slid shut. The lift moved upwards and he took a deep breath in. what was he going to find when he got up there? What was Pete going to look like? Would he forgive him? Would he even be alive?
All of there questions ran through Patrick head as he stood in the lift. As soon as the door opened though he couldn't think of there he had to concentrate on walking, he had to concentrate on keeping going in a straight line, he had to concentrate on keeping breathing and not fainting on the spot.
He walked slowly along the corridor but then had to give up on moving and slumped against the wall. He didn't want to see what had happened to Pete because he knew that it was his fault. He knew that. It was all because of that argument. That argument that he had caused. The argument that he had started. Why had he thought that Pete would ever cheat on him. They loved each other too much for that.
He managed to pick himself up and walked over to one of the little plastic chairs that were places at regular intervals along the corridor. He sat there for a while and the tears began to flow slowly trickling down his face. He pulled up his sleeve and looked at what was there. The only tattoo he would ever get.
Hed gone into the tattoo parlour just after he had had the argument and asked for it, not because he thought it was cool, but because he loved him and wanted him to be part of him forever.
The intricate Pete was scrawled in from under the cork tree font going up the inside of his left arm. This reminded him about why he was here and he hauled himself to his feet. He tottered alone the corridor counting the door numbers until he got to the right one. He stood outside not even daring to look through the small glass pane in the door. He didn't want Pete to be dead, or even unconscious he wanted the Pete he knew and loved (not that he wouldn't love this Pete.) he took a huge deep breath and put his hand on the door handle. It took a great effort to turn it and even more effort to turn it. It took all the willpower that Patrick had inside him and that he could summon up to push the door open. He gasped in shock at what lay before him.
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