FicWad

Thanks for the Memories
a/n: well, im stilling going with this, so thanks to those who review. Even tho I guess this story is a train wreck, ill rebuild the train...so where is my hammer.
Chapter 2
Golden


"Where is your boy tonight, I hope he is a gentleman...maybe he wont find out what I know, you were the last good thing about this part of town..." Patrick strummed the notes on an old acoustic guitar. He always wanted to sing the song so much slower. But what the band wanted the band got.
The guys had left a few hours ago. According to Joe 'this game is boring since Patrick won't tell us who knocked him up.' He didn't really know why it bugged him, but the pregnancy jokes just got dumb and immature after a few dozen.
Honestly, he knew that he was in a pissy mood, and he didn't know why. Missing the road and the music was the only thing he could come up with. The phone ringing stopped his serenity.
"Hey." Patrick said.
"Hey," Pete's voice was husky and deep. "I just wanted to say that this afternoon got a bit wild. Can I come over, I got some new lyrics."
"Umm..."Patrick twirled the cord around with his finger. "Yeah, sure."
"K, you'll love these, I promise. Bye, Patty-pat."
"Bye..." Patrick, though hating that name with a passion, smiled.
Checking himself in the mirror, he decided he didn't look good enough. Digging through a pile of shoes and jean jackets, he found a dark blue pair of ripped jeans and a plain white tee. Formal, but a touch of causal with his army green trucker hat on. But this didn't make him look as cool and punk as Pete. Nerdish, more like it. A long stick of eyeliner that Pete kept in his medicine cabinet called to him. With a sly smile and a thought in his mind, he uncapped the charcoal make up.
It didn't work as well as he had planned it. First off, he didn't put it up far enough. Then when he tried to wipe it off it smeared. So he tried to put it up farther, but a churning in his stomach shocked him and made him poke his eyes. The pain in his eye and the sickness in his stomach went perfectly with Pete's remarks from, once again, him standing at the door way.
"You are always trying to be like me, aren't you?" Pete chuckled.
Another embarrassing item to add to the growing list, he happened to heave chunks into the sink. The gooey mess a midday attempt at a salad was now a master piece, a flurry of red and darker red.
"You ok?" Pete patted his back and handed him a towel.
The tears made the eyeliner run farther. Pete shook his head and muttered something about being himself, and wiped the black smear away.
"I know you are still young, but you have to understand this." Pete turned on the sink and handed Patrick the mouth wash. "Don't try to be like everyone else. You wearing eyeliner is like...me not wearing eyeliner."
"You look ok without the eyeliner." Patrick gurgled.
"You aren't getting the message." Pete rolled back his eyes. "Just please stay the way you are, changing will not do you any good. Now, clean up that puke and come to the living room with me."
Why did he always seem like a child in Pete's eyes? True, he was the second youngest in their band, but he knew what he was doing. To himself, he some what acted like a child, desperate for he attention of the older man. Wanting to fit in somewhere between here and there wasn't quite working out for him.
"How cruel..." Pete's voice trailed in from the living room. "Is the golden rule, when the lives we lived are only golden-plated and I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me though I carried karats for everyone to see...damn, I just can't get a chorus."
Patrick spit out the mouth wash and shut off the sink. The song was fast and quick. In his mind he could just slow it down, and there was a chorus. It was foggy, but made sense.
"And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies...and all the lovers with no time for me... and all of the mothers raise their babies... to stay away from me..."
Pete's mouth dropped open. Shock factor in his eyes was a clear ten. Where the words and the tune came from was unclear to him, but it was slow and nice.
"Where...how..." Pete grabbed his shoulders while laughing in disbelief "Patrick...that was amazing!"
Pete hugged him in delight. Even though he knew the hug was friendly and just an expression of happiness, he couldn't help but enjoy it. Pete smelled of old spice. The moment was ruin, though, by that same churning feeling that ended in another mess.

************************

"Boo!" Pete shouted as he grabbed Patrick's shoulders and sticking a wet finger in his ear.
"Don't be dumb!" Patrick screamed at him.
"Both of you shut up!" Andy yelled back at both of them.
Patrick's apartment was filled with green and red tinsel. Christmas time was always an important time to them, mostly because it was always fun getting presents. The four guys sat around watching TV and chowing on Patrick's mom homemade fudge. Patrick refused to eat it.
Andy was tossing around a black skulled wrapped present. Pete almost had a heart attack getting it away from him. After Pete had sorted out the presents and found some more skittles, they opened up their gifts.
Andy got some drumsticks and a jacket, Joes got a huge Star Wars poster and a guitar pick, Pete got a silver ring from his mom. As for Patrick, Pete made him go into the kitchen to open it.
"Do you remember a couple of months ago, when you were trying to put on eyeliner?" Pete smiled as he handed him the gift. "I saw this and thought that you'd like it."
He hesitated for a minute, and then ripped into the black skull wrapping. Inside, was a black trucker hat with the word "original" writing on the front. It was simple, it was a regular hat, but it seemed to mean so much more. Tears flowed down his cheeks, his glasses fogged up. Pathetic, he knew it. Pete didn't, though.
"I just wanted you to always remember," Pete placed Patrick's head to his breast and whispered in his ear. "We are originals. Don't listen to labels, don't listen to them. Listen to the music and listen to your heart. You are golden."