Closing Time

Pete Wentz hated rainy days. He couldn't stand rainy days as it reminded him of failed relationships and getting wasted at the back of his car. He was a lost cause back then. And everytime he came to his senses, the only thing he noticed was that it's always raining.

Things have taken a turn eversince he started his new band. He's now living a straight-edged lifestyle and loving every single minute of it. His band is doing great and they are the talk of the town at the moment.

Except, he wanted a change in the lead singer.

The guy was great, no offence, but it seems that he couldn't fit in with his bandmates. When it came to jamming sessions, Brandon always had an excuse to not come. Despite his "disappearances", Brandon somehow managed to perform his best at all shows. Maybe that's why Pete and the others couldn't care less if Brandon was to be replaced, eventhough he's an awesome singer.

So Pete was on his way home after dropping the bomb on Brandon (at his house) when the rain started. He didn't drive as he thought it would be quick. What he thought would be a half hour visit, turned out to be two hours instead. That was one hell of a gruelling session in which Pete wouldn't want to relive again.

He dashed into the nearest store which was still open at that time, only to realise that it was the local Borders bookstore. A place which he avoided at all costs as he wasn't a fan of books.

I'm just here for the shelter neways.

Pete roamed the entire bookstore, trying to act interested in the books on the shelves, when he heard somebody singing. He thought it was the shop's music playing over the speakers, but they were playing Taylor Swift, of all people. The mysterious singer was male, that was for certain.

The singing was very soft, but it was audible for his ears. The singer had a beautiful voice in which Pete immediately fell in love with.

He looked around to see who was the culprit. There weren't many customers around as it was quite late at night and the shop's about to be closed soon.

There's four people here, excluding myself. Since it's a male voice, so, the two women standing at the cookery section are out. Left with the two men. One's at the magazine section and the other's at the sport aisle, reading a, what? Bodybuilding book?!

Pete scrunched up his nose. I don't think a beautiful voice will come out from that hulk of a body.

The guy at the magazine rack was Pete's last choice. As he was about to make his way there, he caught a fleeting shadow at the corner of his eye.

Pete stopped in his tracks and turned to his right, where he thought he saw someone.

His feet carried him to the music section, which was located right at the back of the store. Suddenly, Pete feels like home.

Now this is more like it.

Immersed in the CD selection, Pete completely forgot about finding the mysterious singer.

He was rummaging through the sales bin when a pale, short guy appeared beside him.

"Holy fucking shit! You scared the hell out of me," Pete yelled.

The pale guy didn't even flinch. In fact, he was showing no emotion at all. He stood beside Pete, just staring.

"Shouldn't you be offering some kind of apology?" Pete asked sarcastically.

When he got no response, Pete accessed the guy. Apparently, he's a Borders staff as he was wearing the uniform, complete with a name tag. Pete took a closer look at the name. Patrick.

"So, Patrick. You in charge of the music section?" Pete inquired.

Patrick gave Pete the same expression he was wearing before and walked off to the next aisle.

"Hey, hey! I'm talking to you! You can't just walk away like that!" Pete rounded a corner to find nobody there.

Where did that moron gone off to?

At that very moment, the closing announcement was made.

Pete made his way to the front of the store. He had to let the Borders management know about the crappy customer service he had.

He was still angry with Patrick, so he let out his rant at the staff stationed at the main entrance.

"Honestly speaking, you guys should just sack this Patrick dude. He has the worst service ever!"

Pete stormed out of Borders leaving a very, befuddled staff who was gaping at his remark.

Thank goodness it stopped raining.



Pete made his way to Borders two days after the unpleasant encounter with Patrick. He wanted to get a CD which he saw the other time he was there. Also, he remembered about the mysterious singer and he wanted to try his luck in finding him.

When he reached Borders, it was still light out and the place was relatively packed with people. Pete trudged his way to the music section. He hoped he wouldn't have to bump into Patrick again. Once was enough.

He was immersed in the music and lost track of time. Good thing about the music section was that, it's situated by the glass partition. So customers got to see the road and also the weather outside.

Pete didn't wear his watch today, so he relied on the weather to gauge the time. He's too frigging lazy to take out his mobile just to check what hour of the day it was.

As he was putting the headphones back on the stand, he noticed the sudden temperature drop in the section.

He was about to make his way to the cashiers' when his eye caught the presence of a short, blonde guy standing still in between one of the aisles.

It's that fucking, rude guy!

Pete's anger welled up again. He hated people who simply walked away from him when he was having a conversation with them.

He needed to make himself clear that he was still pissed with Patrick after what he's done to Pete.

CD in one hand, Pete rushed over to where Patrick was. Apparently, Patrick was standing very still, as if he was mocking Pete to come and get him.

And that was when the singing started.

Pete immediately stopped and stood there, gawking at the pale boy like a fish out of water.

The beautiful voice surrounded him and he felt at such ease. His anger subsided just by listening to Patrick sing.

I have to speak to him! And put aside his rudeness as well, I'd guess.

Pete was about to reach Patrick, when he was interrupted by a girl who's probably around in her late teens.

"Hi sir, can I help you?" the girl asked, enthusiastically.

"Huh? Uh, no, no. I've gotten what I wanted, thanks," Pete replied, distracted.

The girl gave him a wide smile. "You can ask for help from me. I'm Trish by the way. I'm in charge of the music section. I have to go making rounds in the shop at this time as we're closing soon." With that, she bounced away.

That's one happy service assistant. She's pretty cute too, with her braided red hair and glasses. Wait, I want to meet Patrick, not Trish!

Pete looked back at the aisle to find it empty.

Huh. I'll have to "catch" him another time then. And I'm here way, far too long already!

He made his payment, reminding himself to ask Trish if she knew Patrick or not.



Pete had been busy for the whole week, trying to find a backup singer for the upcoming gig his band's having. He wanted to kick himself in the ass for "firing" Brandon, before he could find a substitute. He should have made use of the guy first. He wasn't being mean, just practical. Brandon also wasn't into the band that much.

So Pete decided to drop by Borders as a desperate attempt to meet Patrick and ask, no, beg the guy to become his temporary singer for the time being.

If he wants to, that is. I'll do anything and everything to make him accept the offer!

He visited Borders at an hour before closing, since he always saw Patrick around that time. He also made a note to himself, to personally ask Trish if he couldn't find Patrick anywhere.

He headed straight to the music section and lingered around there. The store was, as always, empty at that time of day.

It didn't take long for Pete to find Patrick. Technically speaking, Patrick found him. He suddenly appeared beside Pete when he was busy rummaging through the discounted section.

"Jesus! Could you please stop giving me a heart attack? What's with the sneaking up?" Pete gasped, clearly shocked at Patrick's appearance.

The boy as usual, didn't say anything. Pete was already accustomed to Patrick's weird behaviour, so he let it slide.

He cleared his throat. "So, umm, we got off to a bad start. I'm Pete, by the way. Patrick, right? It's on your tag," he quickly pointed to Patrick's nametag. Don't want him to think I'm stalking him or anything.

Patrick simply nodded his head and said nothing.

I'm going to have a whole lot of difficulty just trying to strike a convo with this dude.

"Okay, so you're not much of a talker. But you're a singer, right? I heard your voice the other time and, wow, it was just fucking beautiful."

Patrick gave him a small smile, which Pete thought was really cute. What the fuck am I saying? He's a dude!

"I like it when you smile. You look more friendlier," Pete blurted out loud. "Uh... I mean... I... Shit. I'll cut to the chase then. I want you to sing in my band." He heaved a sigh of relief.

Patrick's baby blues went wide. At such close proximity, Pete took notice of the guy's appearance.

He was wearing the usual work uniform; black polo tee with black jeans and he was a little on the pudgy side. His hair was not really blonde. A little bit on the reddish side actually. Strawberry-blonde? Pete also saw the guy's hair was thinning at the middle.

Despite the hair-thinning and the pudginess, Pete knew that Patrick was a beautiful person. His cherubic face made Pete want to squeeze his cheeks and his eyes... His clear blue eyes...

Wait a minute. Is, is that, tears pooling in his bottom eyelids?

"Patrick, are you okay? Dude, what's wrong?" Pete was starting to panic. He had never encountered a crying guy before. And he doesn't know nuts on how to console one.

"Patrick, did I say anything wrong? Come on, man. Don't do this."

Patrick smiled, ignoring the tears which was slowly trickling down his cheeks. And that was the first and last time Pete heard him utter a word. Or two.

"Thank you."

It was very soft, but Pete heard it clearly. He couldn't put it to words, but it seemed that Patrick's voice had some kind of tinkle in it.

"I'm sorry sir, but it's closing time soon. Can I help you to recommend some items?" Trish spoke loudly.

Pete nearly jumped out of his skin."What is wrong with you people? You don't just sneak up to someone and yell at them whether they needed help or not," he spat.

"I-I'm sorry sir, but I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes or so," Trish stammered. "I don't mean to be rude, but I th-thought you didn't hear me. You were staring into space."

Huh? What is she talking about? Can't she see that I'm talking with her colleague?

"I'm actually talking with one of your colleagues," Pete countered. He looked around to find Patrick, but as usual, he had vanished.

"You mean, you were talking to one of our staffs?" Trish asked, a look of bewilderment etched on her face. "There isn't anyone here, except for you and me, sir. Well, you were alone until I came along."

"No, I was pretty sure I was talking to a staff named Patrick," Pete replied exasperatedly. "And that bugger keeps on disappearing on me. Which is not very customer-friendly."

He decided to look around for Patrick instead of arguing with Trish. But the salesgirl blocked his path with a grim expression.

"My apologies, but according to our records, there isn't any of our staff with that name, sir. I believe you must have been mistaken."

Pete was getting more and more agitated. "Listen missy, you're telling me that I'm making up an imaginary staff?"

"Sir, I do not meant that way. You totally got the wrong idea," Trish apologised.

"Then get the HELL outta my way! I need to see Patrick!" Pete stepped aside and broke into a run around the music section, all the while yelling Patrick's name.

Seeing that the situation had gone out of control, Trish made a dash to call the security.

"Patrick! Goddamn it! Where the fuck are you, man? Why aren't you appearing to save my ass and make them see that you're a staff here?!"

Trish re-appeared with both the security and the store manager. "Curtis, this guy went berserk after I told him that there isn't any staff by the name of Patrick. I don't know what to do."

Curtis (the store manager), patted Trish's shoulder and told her and the security to leave him. Trish looked at him with concern, but Curtis just brushed her off. "I got this. Help me calm the other customers instead. Tell them we got the situation under control."

Trish and the security made their way to the front of the store and Curtis approached Pete with caution.

Pete had given up in finding Patrick. He was leaning against one of the pillars, looking disgruntled.

"Son, could you come to my office?" Curtis spoke softly, but firm.

"I'd bet you wanna ban me from coming here again," Pete replied sullenly. "Look, I'm not making this up, alright? I swore I did talk to one of your staff, by the name of Patrick."

"Actually son, I do believe you. We had a staff by that name. But I need to talk to you about this in private. So what if we say we go inside the office?" Curtis suggested.

Pete perked up at Curtis' reply. He followed the tall and lanky man into the office.

"Have a seat, son. What's your name?"

Pete took a seat opposite Curtis, who was seated behind his desk.

"Pete. And I'd appreciate it if you stop calling me son coz it's making me uncomfortable," Pete answered curtly.

"I'm sorry, Pete. I may not look like it, but I am in my fifties," Curtis grinned. "Oh, name's Curtis by the way," he added, extending his hand for a handshake.

Pete returned the gesture. He sat back in the reclining chair and crossed his arms. "Look, I know what you must be thinking. A tattooed delinquent who's causing trouble in a bookshop."

"I didn't think that way, Pete. My son's heavily-tattooed as well, but he's a major in marine biology. You're not from around here, are you?" Curtis asked. "Because if you are, then you would have known about the tragic incident that happened here five years ago."

"Huh? I'm from Chicago, just not around these parts. I don't frequent here much."

"Then let me tell you a story," Curtis started.



"Patrick, do you mind doing overtime till closing tonight?" Curtis asked his favourite part-timer.

"I don't have any plans, so yeah, I'll stay," Patrick replied.

Curtis smiled at the boy. He had been working for only two months and he's shown great interest in the section he's assigned to.

He had known that this small, short guy would do well in the music section since Curtis was always assessing his staff now and then. The minute he saw Patrick singing a Prince song while shelving the stocks, he immediately pulled the boy into his office. He remembered the look on the boy's face; ghostly white as if someone close recently passed away. Patrick was already fair-skinned, to the verge of pale, so he looked like a living corpse at that time.

"Calm down, Patrick. I'm not going to reprimand you for singing. However, I don't encourage my staff to do it when there are customers around. And I'll be changing your section with immediate effect. You'll assist Sabrina in the music section. I have a feeling you'll do great in that section."

So Patrick helped with the music section until Sabrina resigned. Which, wasn't long after he was re-allocated.

After Sabrina left, Patrick solely took care of the section by himself. He'll come to work almost everyday. He had to take night shifts during weekdays as he had classes in the day. He would work day shifts during weekends and public holidays. Overall, Patrick took care of his section like it's his baby.

Curtis did ask Patrick if he was in a band as he'll be a great, lead singer. The boy's reply was simple. He was waiting for an invitation as he's really bad in auditioning due to his awkward social skills. What Curtis didn't know was, that was the last thing he heard from Patrick.

One rainy night, a few hours before closing time, a car skidded and rammed through the glass partition, into the music section. The driver (who was filthy drunk), managed to escape the wreck, with major cuts and bruises. However, there was one casualty.

A teenaged, Borders staff.



"If I didn't ask him to stay that night, he would still be here," Curtis wiped his eyes. "The staff was Patrick."



Pete walked through the cemetery gates, holding a small package. He figured Patrick's not the kind who liked flowers anyway.

"Hey dude," Pete sighed. "I got ya something today."

He placed the package on top of the plain headstone. Patrick's grave was kept neat by his mother.

"It's one of our demos, Trick. You would definitely love it. It's such a shame I didn't get to meet ya earlier. We could have been the best of friends."

Pete unwrapped the package and opened the CD case. He read the contents out loud.

"I dedicate one song 'specially for you. It's called Closing Time. You must be thinking it's from Semisonic, but nope. Just happens to have the same title."

"Believe it or not, I kinda miss seeing you haunting the bookstore," Pete let out a tiny chuckle. "You finally got your invitation, huh?"

"Honestly speaking, I really, really wanted you to be the lead singer in my currently-nameless band," Pete felt tears brimming in his eyes. "I don't know how and why, but I could have sworn I'm in love with you, Trick. Eventhough we're perfect strangers."

He stood up and brushed dirt off his jeans.

"Gotta go now, Trick. See ya next time."

He made his way out of the silent cemetery without looking back.