City of Delusion

"I hate what you do to me... After everything, here I am, about to give you a second chance."

He started the car, still mumbling under his breath as he pulled out of the parking lot. When we passed the entrance of the restaurant, I saw a furious Paul running around, grabbing random people to see if it was me. Pete was calmly walking away, waving at us as we went by. I turned to look at the road, looking at Patrick out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be concentrating heavily on the road.

"Patrick, pl-"

"Just don't talk."

I stopped and turned to stare out the window. Everything was strangely familiar and I found myself reminiscing with memories I'd never lived. Flashes of them zipped by my brain, but this time I was actually able to see one of them.

"Pat, I can't go with you. I have to work."

"Quit work. Just come with me."

"Pat..."

"You say no, I'll be forced to drag you out."

Patrick made a sad puppy-dog face. I sighed and shook my head.

"No."

"Alright..." he suddenly picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I started screaming and laughing, trying to hold on for dear life.

"You drop me and I'll die. This is so scary!"

"If I drop you, I'll never be able to forgive myself for damaging you."

We were in the tour bus by now and he found the chance to put me down.

"Pat... I can't"

"I already told Dr. Morris."

"What?"

"Yeah, he said you needed a vacation. You're all mine for three months."

"Ugh... I can't believe you. Am I to expect you packed my bags too?"

"No, that was our job," Joe opened the door in back of us to reveal himself, Andy, and Pete.
They were smiling.

"Going through your underwear drawer was fun."

"Hey!" Patrick cut in, motioning to himself. "My time, not yours."

I smiled. "Three months? That's an awfully long time... Whatever will we do to pass the
time?" I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pressed my body closer to his, his lips just barely brushing against mine.

"I've got a few things in mind..."

Suddenly the car stopped. Patrick said nothing, but got out of the car, turning to see what I was going to do. I got out too and walked up the walkway behind him. The house was rustic-looking. It was made of bricks and reminded me of a castle in some ways. It had a high roof, with a section that almost looked like a tower. It was very beautiful and I smiled as Patrick opened the door. This house definitely radiated a feeling of warmth, one that got stronger once the door was open. Patrick, being a gentleman, although one that seemed to hate me, let me pass into the house first, then walked on by. He walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I carefully went and sat next to him.

"Patrick? Can we talk now?"

He sighed, but didn't look at me. "What do you want to know?"

"Can you start from the beginning?"

"Well, at one point in time, I thought we were in love. I met you at Borders." He laughed a bit,
never taking his eyes off the ceiling. "You thought I worked there, I thought you worked there. It was weird. I asked you out for coffee, the most clich thing in the world, and we went out for a few months. Then, I had to leave to go on tour, but I wanted you to come along too." He looked over at me, biting his lip. "I guess that's where this whole mess started..."

"You made me go, practically forced me, and then what?"

He looked at me surprised. "I thought you didn't remember..."

"I just had a flashback as we drove here."

He nodded his head skeptically. "Yeah, I guess I did. Well, let's say that our relationship started getting very serious, and you got pregnant."

"I did?"

"Yeah. Neither of us expected it, or knew for that matter, until you were six months along. You only went to the doctor because you and Joe were having too much fun in the snow one day and both of you got sick. When we got the news, it shocked the hell out of us. Well, the doctor couldn't say much, because they needed to do a bunch of tests and we had to leave the next day..."

Patrick took a deep breath and didn't continue. I looked at him, waiting.

"And?..."

"It's late. We can talk in the morning... so shall I drive you back to your hotel?"

"No..."

"Okay, so you'll call your husband to come get you?" Patrick was a bit tight-lipped at that, avoiding my gaze.

"No."

"Where are you going to stay?"

"I was hoping I could stay here..."

Patrick sighed again. "I guess... you can take my room. I'll sleep on the couch."

"You don't have to d-"

"No, it's fine."

He led me upstairs, where he lent me a pair of shorts and a shirt to sleep in. He showed me our his room, then changed and went downstairs with a blanket and pillow in tow. I looked around the room, noticing how bare it seemed. Coming up the stairs and down the hall, there'd been dozens of awards and plaques, recognizing Fall Out Boy for various things they'd won. In this room, however, nothing was hanging from anywhere. There was simply furniture. I lay down on the bed, hugging the pillow tight. It smelt strongly of Patrick. I sighed into it and attempted to fall asleep. The only thought that bothered me was the question of what had happened and why.

Would I ever find out?