Where Is Your Boy Tonight
Chapter 1
29th November 1988.
A four-year-old Patrick comes running to the kitchen, sleeve of his shirt rolled up to his elbow.
“Mommy, mommy!” he shouts, rounding the table. “What is this on my arm?”
Patricia Stumph looks down, and smiles. “That, sweetheart, is a very special thing. That is your soulmate’s first words to you.”
“Soul what?”
“Soulmate.” She answers, chuckling. “A soulmate is the person you’re destined to be with for the rest of your life. Everyone is born with their soulmates’ first words on their body, so they’ll know when they meet them.”
Patrick looks at his arm, looking at the strange characters on it. He couldn’t read yet, so he didn’t know what his soulmate’s words were.
“When will I meet my soul… soul-thing?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. No one knows.”
When he was younger Patrick didn’t care about the words tattooed on his left arm. None of his friends had found their soulmate yet, so it wasn’t a big deal.
But things changed when he entered high school. Year after year, he saw one of his friends finding their soulmate, and when he finished it, at the age of seventeen, he was the only one in the group who was still alone.
Well, not the only one. His best friend, Andy, hadn’t found his soulmate yet, and they were happy that way, messing around and going to college together.
But as the years passed, Patrick was more and more curious as who his soulmate was. Countless times he found himself looking at his left arm, reading the two words over and over again.
Nice song.
He deduced that he’d meet his soulmate through music. He could play the guitar, and basically every other instrument, almost perfectly, a genetic gift from his father, David, a musician.
“Don’t you wonder who your soulmate is?” he asked Andy one day.
Andy shrugged. “Not really. I’ll find my soulmate when it’s the right time. Until then, I’m not really interested.”
On his 21st birthday, Andy appeared on Patrick’s house with a stranger.
“Happy birthday, dude!” Patrick exclaimed, hugging his friend. Then he looked at the guy on his side. “Who’s your friend?”
Andy was smiling widely. “Trick, this is Joe. He’s my soulmate.”
Patrick’s eyes widened in shock. “Soulmate?”
“Yup. We met by accident, actually. I bumped him on the street, he said the words, and here we are.”
The blonde smiled weakly, shaking his hand with Joe. “Nice to meet you, Joe.”
“Nice to meet you too, Patrick. Andy told me a lot about you on our way here.”
After fifteen minutes of casual talking, they left, leaving Patrick sitting on his couch, startled.
Andy found his soulmate. He thought. I’m the only one who is alone, and probably will be for the rest of my life.
Okay, he was exaggerating a little. He was 22 years old, he had plenty of time to find his soulmate. But it was hard to think like that when you see couples around you all the time.
He decided to get out, to get some fresh air. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he brought his guitar with him. Maybe it would help him relax.
He walked to the park, the only place where he could be alone. He passed through uncountable couples, sitting on a bench, walking around, watching the ducks on the lake. It was making him feel even more depressed; he wanted someone to be happy with too.
He stopped on a more empty part of the park, and sat under a tree. He closed his eyes, enjoying the silent melody of the wind and the singing of the birds around him.
He always enjoyed coming to the park. It was a good escape from the noisy mess of the city, a place where he could rest and clear his head.
He took the guitar from the bag, and started playing. It wasn’t a concrete song, just random chords. He absentmindedly continued to play, his head coming back to the meaning of those two words.
He didn’t realize he was singing at first. He didn’t even know what he was singing; he was making up the lyrics as he went. But he liked it. Maybe he could make it a song.
“Nice song.”
Patrick froze, eyes wide as saucers, and slowly looked up. I can’t fucking believe it.
In front of him was a man, not too older than him. He had black hair and warm brown eyes, and his smile – oh my God, his smile is beautiful. Hell, he is beautiful!
The man looked at him, a little confused, but still smiling. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
“Oh… Oh my God.” He was able to mutter.
And that was the man’s turn to be shocked. He stepped back, his mouth opening and closing a second after, and his eyes were wide.
“Holy shit, it’s you.” He stuttered. Patrick was only able to nod.
“Well, that explains why you were so shocked when I spoke.” He chuckled.
Patrick smiled widely. “Well, meeting my soulmate wasn’t really in my schedule for today. I’m Patrick Stump, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Patrick.” He said, sitting down next to the blonde. “My name is Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, but you can call me Pete.”
“Jesus, that’s a big name!” Patrick said, laughing. “Are you the son of a king or something?”
“Almost. My dad is an attorney.” Pete said, laughing as well. “But I don’t really understand what he does; it’s too boring for me, anyway.”
“Well, Pete,” Patrick said, grinning. “what do we do now?”
Pete smirked, grabbing the blonde’s shirt and pulling him close.
“Oh, I have an idea.”
A four-year-old Patrick comes running to the kitchen, sleeve of his shirt rolled up to his elbow.
“Mommy, mommy!” he shouts, rounding the table. “What is this on my arm?”
Patricia Stumph looks down, and smiles. “That, sweetheart, is a very special thing. That is your soulmate’s first words to you.”
“Soul what?”
“Soulmate.” She answers, chuckling. “A soulmate is the person you’re destined to be with for the rest of your life. Everyone is born with their soulmates’ first words on their body, so they’ll know when they meet them.”
Patrick looks at his arm, looking at the strange characters on it. He couldn’t read yet, so he didn’t know what his soulmate’s words were.
“When will I meet my soul… soul-thing?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. No one knows.”
When he was younger Patrick didn’t care about the words tattooed on his left arm. None of his friends had found their soulmate yet, so it wasn’t a big deal.
But things changed when he entered high school. Year after year, he saw one of his friends finding their soulmate, and when he finished it, at the age of seventeen, he was the only one in the group who was still alone.
Well, not the only one. His best friend, Andy, hadn’t found his soulmate yet, and they were happy that way, messing around and going to college together.
But as the years passed, Patrick was more and more curious as who his soulmate was. Countless times he found himself looking at his left arm, reading the two words over and over again.
Nice song.
He deduced that he’d meet his soulmate through music. He could play the guitar, and basically every other instrument, almost perfectly, a genetic gift from his father, David, a musician.
“Don’t you wonder who your soulmate is?” he asked Andy one day.
Andy shrugged. “Not really. I’ll find my soulmate when it’s the right time. Until then, I’m not really interested.”
On his 21st birthday, Andy appeared on Patrick’s house with a stranger.
“Happy birthday, dude!” Patrick exclaimed, hugging his friend. Then he looked at the guy on his side. “Who’s your friend?”
Andy was smiling widely. “Trick, this is Joe. He’s my soulmate.”
Patrick’s eyes widened in shock. “Soulmate?”
“Yup. We met by accident, actually. I bumped him on the street, he said the words, and here we are.”
The blonde smiled weakly, shaking his hand with Joe. “Nice to meet you, Joe.”
“Nice to meet you too, Patrick. Andy told me a lot about you on our way here.”
After fifteen minutes of casual talking, they left, leaving Patrick sitting on his couch, startled.
Andy found his soulmate. He thought. I’m the only one who is alone, and probably will be for the rest of my life.
Okay, he was exaggerating a little. He was 22 years old, he had plenty of time to find his soulmate. But it was hard to think like that when you see couples around you all the time.
He decided to get out, to get some fresh air. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he brought his guitar with him. Maybe it would help him relax.
He walked to the park, the only place where he could be alone. He passed through uncountable couples, sitting on a bench, walking around, watching the ducks on the lake. It was making him feel even more depressed; he wanted someone to be happy with too.
He stopped on a more empty part of the park, and sat under a tree. He closed his eyes, enjoying the silent melody of the wind and the singing of the birds around him.
He always enjoyed coming to the park. It was a good escape from the noisy mess of the city, a place where he could rest and clear his head.
He took the guitar from the bag, and started playing. It wasn’t a concrete song, just random chords. He absentmindedly continued to play, his head coming back to the meaning of those two words.
He didn’t realize he was singing at first. He didn’t even know what he was singing; he was making up the lyrics as he went. But he liked it. Maybe he could make it a song.
“Nice song.”
Patrick froze, eyes wide as saucers, and slowly looked up. I can’t fucking believe it.
In front of him was a man, not too older than him. He had black hair and warm brown eyes, and his smile – oh my God, his smile is beautiful. Hell, he is beautiful!
The man looked at him, a little confused, but still smiling. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
“Oh… Oh my God.” He was able to mutter.
And that was the man’s turn to be shocked. He stepped back, his mouth opening and closing a second after, and his eyes were wide.
“Holy shit, it’s you.” He stuttered. Patrick was only able to nod.
“Well, that explains why you were so shocked when I spoke.” He chuckled.
Patrick smiled widely. “Well, meeting my soulmate wasn’t really in my schedule for today. I’m Patrick Stump, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Patrick.” He said, sitting down next to the blonde. “My name is Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, but you can call me Pete.”
“Jesus, that’s a big name!” Patrick said, laughing. “Are you the son of a king or something?”
“Almost. My dad is an attorney.” Pete said, laughing as well. “But I don’t really understand what he does; it’s too boring for me, anyway.”
“Well, Pete,” Patrick said, grinning. “what do we do now?”
Pete smirked, grabbing the blonde’s shirt and pulling him close.
“Oh, I have an idea.”