FicWad

Waking up this morning was like being thrown face first into a brick wall. A brick wall covered in hot tar, so not only did I have the pain of the initial collision but I was stuck hard in the seething headache pain of something melting through my skull. I cried out like some harpooned seal, gripping onto my forehead like I was afraid it would fall off. My whole body shook but I couldn’t move. My legs twitching and tightening, not allowing me to stand. I didn’t have to even call his name, Patrick appeared almost instantly. He sat himself down next to me, face screwed up in fear. He looked towards the drawer but I shook my head. Opening the drawer, his expression fell into further horror.

‘She…. Took…Urgh…’ I tried to string together words but the pain silenced me, ‘I… Urgh...’

Pulling myself into the fetal position I whimpered into a pillow. I felt Patrick’s hands on my shoulders, gently rubbing circles into them. My shoulders began to untense though the burn in my head was still immensely focused. Tears ran down my cheeks and soaked a dark patch into my light brown pillowcase.

‘What can I do?’ Patrick fretted, voice sounding desperate

I exhaled shakily, poking my temples with an index finger. And for the record, that does not help. I could handle the shaking. I could. But this pain. Like being stabbed. It was unbearable. I remembered the supply of Atavan I keep stored in my bathroom cabinet. Clearing my throat I placed a hand over my eyes.

‘Pain…killers?’ I croaked, every word sending another shock through my brain.

‘Where?’ He asked, seemingly in a hurry to help

‘Bathroom…’ I mumbled, grunting into the pillow

The bed shifted as Patrick rose and I could hear him scrambling around the house. I didn’t feel right. Like I was someone else looking through these eyes. As if I was a stranger in my own body. My arms not doing as I wished. My fingers taking a life of their own. My heart beating to its own accord. Out of control. I had no control. I heard a tap being run somewhere but the sound was muffled and out of synch, like someone had wrapped something over my ears. It wasn’t long before I heard footsteps approaching. Patrick sank down beside me once more.

His hands found my shoulders once more as he carefully rolled me onto my back. My eyes felt glazed over and he looked all blurry. He placed a hand on my forehead to feel my temperature and cursed. In his other hand he held a glass of water and some pills in a white box. Taking two out he placed them in my hand, but because of the shaking I dropped them the instant I was given them. Propping me up and putting the pills into my mouth this time, Patrick poured some of the water into my mouth also, making sure I didn’t choke.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, like the world was coming to a halt. Then, miraculously, the throbbing in my skull stopped. Not gradually, but completely. Like flicking on a light switch. The room came back into focus and what a sight to come around to. Patrick was leaning over me, his face practically touching mine. I jumped in shock, causing the gap between us to disappear and my lips gently brushed his own. Patrick fell backwards and onto the floor. He was making illegible sounds and I heard the words, ‘breathing’ ‘help’ ‘you’ and ‘better’. He was redder than I’d ever seen him before.

‘Uh... Paaa…trick?’ I called, fearing that he had died of embarrassment

‘Ye... Yeah..?’ He asked, eyes still wide, like his eyelids had fallen off

‘Mmm better now…’ I reply, breathing heavily

‘Oh...Oh... Oh... Kay…’ He said, his voice sounding far away, indicating he had in fact crawled out of the room.

‘Fuck...’ I mumble, slapping my forehead

Does that just..? Was that just a …? Did I just…? Did we just…? Shit… Does that count as a…? I mean it was just for half a second and... Well… It was an accident… And I didn’t want to… Well... I kinda did want to… But I just… I can’t believe I just…

I kissed Patrick. I just kissed Patrick. Our lips touched right? So that counts I suppose. He freaked out. He just freaked out. I can’t believe he’s the one that’s freaked out! He’s the gay one! I’d be more freaked out if he kissed me! I mean, it was an accident. What was he doing leaning so close to me anyway? But… Well… I didn’t have to kiss him, did I? Stupid… Stupid… Stupid…

Finding my feet to be still attached, I figured I’d use them to go find Patrick. Luckily, today I was not half naked because honestly I don’t think that would’ve helped. Being a dirty man as I am, I fell asleep in yesterday’s clothes. I decided I was going to face this issue like a man… And completely ignore that anything happened. Reaching the living room, I found Patrick sat rigidly on one side of the couch. When catching each other’s eye we both talked very quickly while overlapping each other making both side of the conversation sound like a string of grunts.

‘Hey... Well how’re you feeling?’ Patrick started, speaking unnecessarily loudly, ‘Hope you’re feeling better. I’m going to Joe’s today. We’ve got lots of stuff to work on and stuff. Maybe I’ll borrow one of his guitars and stuff. So are you doing anything today? Like work or…stuff… Maybe you should come to Joe’s later or whatever. If you want or…stuff… If not I guess I’ll see you around cause I might leave soon. I didn’t have breakfast but maybe I’ll have toast or … something… at Joe’s. I like Joe. Do you like Joe? He’s… uh… He’s cool and … stuff… right? So…uh…bye!’

I only actually caught half of this little speech as my own essay-like speech utterly drowned his.

‘Hi…uh…Trick… So, like, thanks for looking after me.’ I began, inhaling mightily, ‘I mean it was a bit strange you leaning over me like that but.. uh... never mind… funny story… I’m going to uh… coffee… and then I might go see Frank so I might not be home til’ late on account of my being out to see Frank or …coffee… Work… good idea… I might …uh...work.. I was actually writing this…thing…uh…novel… about… things… that I have to get in order first… and uh… coffee... Bye’

I felt quite guilty about rushing out on him without giving an explanation. I do promise though that when I think of one, he’ll be the first to know. I’d just left my apartment without any direction whatsoever. So, on getting to my car I was slightly confused as to where the hell I was going to go to avoid Patrick for the meantime. Deciding that the pharmacy might be able to help me with my medication problem I choose to go there to cause a fuss and hopefully get more SSRIs.

Pulling up in front of the little cottage-esque building, I walk in to be greeted by a woman old enough to be my great great great great… you get the picture. Let’s just say, if I told her to act her age she would die. I stormed towards her, thunder in my steps, ignoring her happy, grandmotherlike smile. I try to look as menacing as possible hoping that she’d maybe get confused or scared and just give me what I wanted.

‘Hello’ She grinned, looking up at me through her shiny silver spectacles.

‘Is it?’ I growl, ‘Is it really?’

‘Pardon?’ She says, confused, tampering with her ear though as I could plainly see she was wearing no form of hearing aid.

‘Pete Wentz’ I growl again, arms crossed, ‘With a Z’

Her fingers sped over the keys of a computer, which looked as old as she was, and I was quite amazed at how technologically educated she was. Closely examining the screen she smiled up at me.

‘Zoloft dear?’ She asked, I snorted

‘Yes, it is quite expensive’ I hoot sarcastically, wondering why this little old lady now seems rather familiar

She was also staring at me as if she recognized me. Suddenly it clicked. The little old lady at Starbucks. I made her spill her espresso all over the place. I gulped, hoping to god she didn’t remember me but it was too late. Clearly, she knew me.

‘I’m sorry, Mr. Wentz’ She hissed, though she didn’t sound sorry at all, ‘I’m afraid you already have a prescription of Zoloft.’

‘But..’ I whimper, staring at my shoes, suddenly becoming the weaker one of this conversation

‘Sorry…’ She interrupted, frowning, ‘Non negotiable’

I put on my best puppy dog eyes but she shook her head at me. I even did the whole, bottom lip quivering routine. She continued to refuse me even when I put on some fake tears. This woman was clearly the most heartless grandma ever. Bet she knits jumpers out of thorns. Bet she bakes cyanide pies and arsenic cookies. Bet she pinches her grandchildren. I was in half a mind to report her. Then remembered that I just made all of that up.

‘Lame much’ I grumble on leaving defeated.

I sat in my car for about twenty minutes resting my head on the steering wheel. I didn’t cry. I swear I didn’t cry. Because that would be immature. Like a child who wasn’t allowed a toy or some candy. I wanted my candy. I needed that candy. That bitch wouldn’t give me my candy... uh… pills. I admit, I cried.