Cold Hands
Seven
Patrick feels dizzy on stage but he hasn’t fainted like Ryan. He drinks lots of water and stops drinking coke and various other fizzy drinks scattered around the buses. His teeth suffer enough without the sugar and the calories aren’t even worth it anymore. He tells himself that it’s just his body adjusting to the lack of one meal, and nothing to do with his recent activities.
After lunch he sticks his fingers down his throat and if Pete were to catch him it would be ‘Still ill, you know, I think I’m getting better, though.’ But Pete doesn’t catch him because Pete is always with Ryan.
(Ryan’s jeans are baggy now and his eyes are hollow. His hair has started to thin and he broke his rib when he fainted after leaving the stage last night. Brittle bones. It’s not major and he still goes on stage, his t-shirts like sweaters and his skin like a freezer. Patrick sees Spencer cradling his hand and watching him with care and knows he knows and fuck, all Patrick wants Ryan to do is to gain weight. Not so he stops dying, but so that Patrick can be skinner than him. Prettier. So that Pete likes him more.
Patrick hates himself for that.)
Andy tries to corner him and Patrick finds excuse after excuse to avoid being on the bus at all, really. Brendon is fun and Brendon can play almost as many instruments as him; they talk in notes and brass and together they make these tunes that sort of go like Patricks thoughts and Brendon’s emotions. It sounds a lot like hell but they don’t say anything to each other about it, what they hear.
Brendon is skinny and curvy and Brendon has this beautiful smile and beautiful voice and when he gets a tune before him, Patrick sinks a little deeper into himself. It used to be that music was the one thing he was good at, and that he didn’t have to be attractive to be an amazing musician. But Brendon is a better version of Patrick, model 2.0.
He plays, nonetheless, and considers Brendon a friend. After all; he’s been friends with attractive people all his life.
After lunch he sticks his fingers down his throat and if Pete were to catch him it would be ‘Still ill, you know, I think I’m getting better, though.’ But Pete doesn’t catch him because Pete is always with Ryan.
(Ryan’s jeans are baggy now and his eyes are hollow. His hair has started to thin and he broke his rib when he fainted after leaving the stage last night. Brittle bones. It’s not major and he still goes on stage, his t-shirts like sweaters and his skin like a freezer. Patrick sees Spencer cradling his hand and watching him with care and knows he knows and fuck, all Patrick wants Ryan to do is to gain weight. Not so he stops dying, but so that Patrick can be skinner than him. Prettier. So that Pete likes him more.
Patrick hates himself for that.)
Andy tries to corner him and Patrick finds excuse after excuse to avoid being on the bus at all, really. Brendon is fun and Brendon can play almost as many instruments as him; they talk in notes and brass and together they make these tunes that sort of go like Patricks thoughts and Brendon’s emotions. It sounds a lot like hell but they don’t say anything to each other about it, what they hear.
Brendon is skinny and curvy and Brendon has this beautiful smile and beautiful voice and when he gets a tune before him, Patrick sinks a little deeper into himself. It used to be that music was the one thing he was good at, and that he didn’t have to be attractive to be an amazing musician. But Brendon is a better version of Patrick, model 2.0.
He plays, nonetheless, and considers Brendon a friend. After all; he’s been friends with attractive people all his life.