Dead and Loving it

Patrick's from a wealthy family, his father is a doctor and his mother is a teacher. he also has an older sister who is kind of a bitch the second his parents are out of her sight.

Right now he's at a small production opera. Patrick loves the music but not so much the story behind it. He get so lost in the sounds of violins, piano and a dozen other instruments he doesn't even hear the shrill scream a woman lets out as a large wolf jumps in front of her and more filter through the doors. It's only when the music stops and people run from their seats screaming that he actually sees the pack of wolves running up and down the aisle.

He snaps out of his shock and runs from the balcony he is seated on to the heavy red curtain to the door that leads to his private seats, only to find a large pure white wolf standing before the door. It bears it's teeth making his take a quick step back, putting some more space between himself and the wild dog.

A man suddenly walks into the room stopping beside the wolf. The guy was dressed in an all black suit with black leather gloves. He absently starts to pat the wolf like you would the family dog, grinning in Patrick direction. "Beautiful creatures aren't they?"

Patrick was trying to guess his chances of escaping the room before the man and wolf react, his chances are slim to none. So he instead just watches the man pat the wolf's head. "How can you touch a god damn wolf." He all but squeals.

"Wolves are lovely, kind creatures. You shouldn't be so quick to judge, young sir."

"Well then, explain that to the people down there." Patrick replies, sweetly.

"And waste my time on deaf ears? I think not, but you're hear and obviously not leaving anytime soon. So maybe I should plead my case to you." The man smirks, holding his hand out towards Patrick. "I'm Peter Wentz, and you are?"

Patrick slowly extends his hand to Peter, placing his hand into Peter's. "Patrick Stump." He mutters shyly, trying to pull his hand back from Peter's grip, with no success.

Peter pulls him forward, knocking him down so he's face to face with the wolf. He's starting to think he should be praying for his life as the wolf just stares back at him. Peter on the other hand is grinning from ear to ear down at him, he pulls Patrick's trapped hand and places it on the wolf's soft fur moving it from side to side, forcing him to pat the animal.

"See not so bad, Patrick." Peter announces to him.

"Okay I see, lovely doggy. Now let me go." Patrick almost whimpers at the tight grip on his wrist as it tightens to the point it goes numb.

Peter lets him go, pushing him back with such force he falls back through the heavy curtain. He scrambles to stand up and take quick steps back away from the curtain.

Peter steps through the curtain as Patrick's back hits the ledge of the balcony and sits in the chair to his left. "Now young Stump, why are you here alone?"

"I wanted to see the opera. I don't need someone to hold my hand." Patrick grumbles, hating that everyone treats him as if he wear a child. He's mother even gave him a lecture before he left the house.

"I disagree, there are a lot of bad people around here. You never know who lurks in the shadows." He smirks, letting his arm hang over the arm of the chair as the wolf walks out from the curtain, laying down right in the middle of the path as if to block Patrick's way out and Patrick wouldn't put it past it.

"You would know all about lurking in the shadows, wouldn't you Peter?" Patrick snaps.

Peter laughs, throwing his head back. "Oh yes, I would, wouldn't I, my darling?"

My darling? Patrick really needs to get out of here and quick. He looks over the edge and sees that no one is in the theatre, hell it looks like no one has been in there for a long time, webs and dust all over. Patrick needs help, yesterday.

"Oh Patrick, you look scared." Peter says, his voice leaking with amusement.

Patrick lets out a sigh of frustration, taking a chance running around the chairs and through the curtain to the door only to fnd it looked. Patrick curses under his breath.

"Oh Patrick, how you hurt me." Peter mumbles by his ear. Then turning him and pinning him to the door, wrists pulled high above his head. Patrick stands on the tips of hie toes, trying to loosen the strain on his arms and wrists. "Wanna come with me?"

"Fuck No!" Patrick shouts.

"Oh well you're coming anyway, my sweet. Fight all you want you're not going to get away." Peter laughs when Patrick starts to struggle. "We're going to have so much fun, darling."