Baby, We'll Fade Away

When I woke up the next morning, Pat was still sound asleep on the floor of the hotel room. His long brown hair was messy and tangled, his skinny frame wrapped up in the blanket and sheet. The one pillow he had was clutched tightly to his chest instead of under his head like it was supposed to be. Pat looked absolutely adorable, even as his mouth was slightly open and soft snores came from him.

I smiled a little to myself at the sight., but then a wave of guilt came crashing over me when I realized how uncomfortable he must have been sleeping on the thin-carpeted floor.

Running a hand through my own dark auburn hair, I let a low sigh escape my lips. Turning my gaze to the nightstand beside the bed, I saw that it was only 9:03 in the morning. With a soft groan, I reached for the remote, which Pat had set on the nightstand the night before. I pressed the power button to turn on the television across from the bed, making sure to completely mute the TV.

I decided to watch some TV until Pat woke up, or one of the other guys came over to our room.
But I didn't want to wake up Pat and frustrate him more; that's why I put the volume on zero. On the screen, an episode of "Viva La Bam" played on MTV. Since I liked the show, I didn't bother changing the channel.

I'd wasted an hour and watched two episodes when I heard a low groan come from the beside right side of the bed. Biting my bottom lip, I prayed that Pat hadn't woken up yet.

When my blue eyes landed on the lanky boy, however, he hadn't even opened his eyes. Pat had simply flipped over, now facing the direction of the desk and window. Small snores still came from him.

With a sigh of relief, I turned back to the TV, realizing that it was an episode I'd already seen multiple times. I flicked through the channels one by one for a minute, finally stopping on the Food Network, where an episode of "Unwrapped" was just getting into the opening theme song. I set aside the remote, leaving it on that channel; another grin became present on my lips when I thought about how much Pat liked that show. Whenever he wasn't watching "Full House", that boy was watching the Food Channel.

The other guys teased him endlessly about it, though I merely thought it was cute.

The episode rolled by, eventually coming to an end. Another episode was just starting up when I heard another grunting sound. Followed by that, a muffled, "Unwrapped?"

Pat sat up from his messy make-shift bed, scratching his head and squinting his brown eyes at the medium-sized TV that was still on mute. Without another word, Pat reached out his hand to me, palm open and expectant. It took me a moment to process what he wanted, but then I handed over the black remote.

Pat turned the volume up to a reasonable level, his eyes never leaving the screen. He didn't greet me in any way; the drummer basically acted as though I simply wasn't there.

We stayed that way until the block letters on the alarm clock read 12:18. Then, Pat slowly stood, retrieved his small bag, and headed off to the bathroom to shower, I assumed. I did the same, except I got dressed in the actual room; I didn't need to take a shower, as I had taken one the night before. I slipped on an old, gray V-neck shirt that fit me nicely, as well as my regular pair of dark gray skinny jeans. I slipped my regular black Converse on and ran my fingers through my hair a few times, succeeding in making it perfectly messy.

Pat came out of the bathroom around twenty minutes later, squeaky clean and fully clothed. We headed out of our room and into Kennedy, John, and Jared's without a single word to eachother.