FicWad

Thanks for the Memories
A/N: Sorry it took a little longer. School and stuff. Incase your wondering, I believe this story is about half way finished...yay...
Chapter 8
Put this record down



Their little gray world was their only cover, no walls cast them out. Only the lone raven circled above, and when the love making was done, he was still there. The Man wrapped his arms around his pale lover, holding him to his chest. They both gasped for breath at the same time, their body moving at once. The Man kissed his pale lover's head and ran his hands through his light, sun kissed hair. His pale lover was the only color in their little gray world, and the only thing The Man could hang onto.
"Do you love me?" The Man asked, pulling the words as long as he could.
"Yes." His pale lover whispered and hung on closer.
"Then open your mind to me. Look into my eyes." The Man gently turned his pale lover's head and stared into his eyes. "What do you see?"
At first his pale lover smiled and eyes gazed over with bliss and warmth, but the longer he stared the more he realized who The Man was. His eyes showed fright and his body tried to tear away. The Man held his pale lover closer, not seeing what he saw. But then he did.
His pale lover, to whom every night they gave each other their flowers and innocence, seemed all too familiar and all too surreal. White and orange mixed and the gray drained. No longer hiding from each other and no longer trying to tell themselves that it couldn't be possible, they grabbed each other again, just make sure that they were certain. His pale lover then bowed his head, closed his eyes, and muttered his name.
"Pete..."
Never before in his life did Pete hate his name. Never before did he wished he could throw it away and never be known to the world, to be a no one just so he could stay in their no longer gray world with his now known pale lover.
"Patrick..."
Patrick, without lifting his head, nodded. Most of his life in the past couple of months made that much more sense. Just with the speaking of a name, although he wished it had never happened.
"I know now..."Patrick put his hand on the nape of Pete's neck and the other on his shoulder. "I know why I am like this...it was because of you."
The words echoed across their once gray land. A large crack surfaced from benth the pedestal and the raven flew crying. The bending tree fell into the crack, its deep roots failing him. Pete, his eyes quickly scanner the ground, grabbed Patrick, and flew them both off of the pedestal. They landed with a thump...


The boys woke up in a cold sweat and a beating heart. Even though they were in two different states, it was as if the other was lying in their arms
Pete, his heart beating a million miles per hours, grabbed his phone and started to dial Patrick's number. Instead of trying to explain his dream, he closed the phone and lay back down on his velvet pillows. There was no need to explain, because he knew that somewhere Patrick was waking up and thinking the same thing.
Patrick, his head heavy with sweat, felt something strange in his stomach. It felt as his intestines were trying to leave his body. He placed his hand on the spot and felt it again. It took a minute to realize that what was happening was that his baby was telling him good morning.

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"Hello," The talk show host with bright blue hair and a pierced lip. "This is your favorite rebel rocker host, Zeke! Those of you who have nothing better to do than sit around on your asses and watch the television; we got a very special guest for you, Fall Out Boy. Now, this is Patrick's, the lead singer man over here, first appearance since his little accident a few months back. So, how are you guys?"
Having agreed to do this high rated international talk show might have been a mistake. But they were the highest paid guest in years and they couldn't pass it down. To hide his ever growing stomach, he wore a large clandsdestine hoodie. They made a unanimous decision to have Pete do most of the talking. If only they knew ahead of time that most of the questions were aimed at Patrick.
"We are all doing well." Pete held the microphone right next to his mouth.
"Alright, alright, enough with the small talk." Zeke clapped his overly tattooed hands and grabbed Patrick's nervous knee. "What the hell happened to you on stage?"
"He just had a minor stress related fainting spell, nothing serious." Pete quickly put in.
"Haha...ok, dude, but I was asking Pat, can I call you that?" Zeke asked his hand still on his knee.
"Actually..." Patrick kept staring at Zeke's hand.
"Good, so are the rumors true about it was actually a young heart attack or drug related." Zeke finally took his hand back.
"I just told you what it was, haha." Pete laughed it off, silently urging to move on.
"Dude, seriously, I'm pretty sure that Pat can answer one of his questions." Zeke put his own mic to Patrick.
Andy saw the look in Patrick face, and quickly changed the subject to the new album. Zeke looked defeated at first, but went along with it. After ten minutes of just how the sales were and Pete's various companies, the host struck back at Patrick.
"So, Pat, let's answer some emails." Zeke took a stack from under his folding chair. "Alright, this is from Brittany from Wisconsin... 'Hey, OMG, your new album is awesome! I was just wondering something. Patrick, you were so cute on the second cd, what happened to you? You got fat and stuff. XOXO Brittany.' Dude, that was pretty harsh from a so called fan...what do you make of it?"
Pete quickly tried to cover for him, but Patrick stopped him. He knew very well why they had been invited onto this interview. This Zeke guy was only here to make fun of him, to make a scene. That wasn't going to happen.
"Listen," Patrick said. "I really don't give a damn what this little teen is saying about me, and she should try doing what I'm doing. Touring and taking the criticism every second on my life. I'm sick and tired of these stupid self proclaimed 'emos' telling everyone what we are and what we aren't! Brittany, go listen to a pop princess if you want to ridicule someone." Patrick got up, threw his microphone down, and started to leave. "One more thing. You, Zeke, are a terrible poser. You really need to stop attacking people with rumors and get down to the music. I don't even believe that you ever listened to us. Isn't Pete's word enough for you?"

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"What the hell was that?" Pete screamed at him.
"What else was I suppose to do!" Patrick shot back.
Pete paced the living room, occasionally giving him a snippy comment. It wasn't that he was mad at Patrick, he was mad at himself for accepting the interview. He should have known that guy would make a fool out of them. He should have known they weren't ready for this. But he didn't.
"I'm sorry." Patrick's cold glare bore into him
"You did nothing wrong." Pete grunted, biting his tongue.
"I must have." Patrick got up.
"Where are you going?" Pete jumped at his movement.
"I have to pee, would you like to join me?"
Pete laid back down on the bench and tried to flip through a magazine. His mind, though, kept racing back to how in the morning the whole gossip scene would be talking about Patrick's vocal rampage. There was nothing they could do now but wait. This was going to be a long few months.