The World's Not Waiting For You (FOB FanFic ft. Brendon Urie)

Chapter 6

Pete, Bronx, Saint, and I were out at the grocery store, because according to Pete, he "didn't have anything in house to eat", though his cabinets were stocked last time I looked.

Pete was pushing the cart along all the aisles, Saint was sitting in the seat in the cart, and Bronx was everywhere, disappearing and then reappearing constantly, bringing back items that Pete told him he didn't want to buy. Told him they didn't need it. But nonetheless, Bronx disregarded his father's wishes and he put them into cart anyways. Pete just rolled his eyes when Bronx did this, not even trying to show his authority to his son, and continued to push the cart.

We turned one of the corners and I froze in my tracks. Down at the other end of the aisle were Elisa and Declan. My son was in the cart like Saint was and my ex-wife was looking at a box of pasta that she picked off the shelf. Her stomach looked more round than flat and I only made one conclusion, a conclusion that upset me down to the very core of my existence.

Pete noticed this and said, "You know, I don't think we need anything down this aisle. Let's go to the next one, Bronx," He addressed his child who was halfway down the aisle, scanning the shelves that were in his reach for his next random something that he was going to add to the cart.

This attracted Elisa's attention and she looked up and saw me, her brown eyes widening in shock. The box she had in her hands dropped to the floor and burst open, sending uncooked pasta noodles all over the tiled floor. Pete stopped in his tracks.

"Can we get this, dad?" Bronx inquired, completely unaware to the situation that was about to unfold before us.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Pete replied distractedly. Bronx grabbed onto the edge of the shopping cart and slam-dunked the box of Chef Boyardee pizza mix in with the other miscellaneous items. "Come on, Patrick, we don't need anything in this aisle."

"A-Are you sure?" I stuttered, keeping my eyes locked on Elisa, her eyes locked on me.

"Yeah. Come on."

"I-I think I'm going to get some pasta," I blurted out, being drawn over to Elisa, wanting to talk with her. Her eyes widened even more.

"Patrick!"

Before I could even make it as far down the aisle as Bronx had gotten, Pete grabbed me by the hand, like I was his child who wasn't listening to him, and dragged me back over to the cart. He released my hand and told me under his breath, through his clenched teeth, "We don't need anything down this aisle." He grabbed the cart and went into the next aisle.

I took one more glance down the aisle at Elisa, who was still staring at me with wide eyes, before following Pete around the corner.

I guess I'm glad I went Pete, because if I was to have stayed a second longer, or made my way down the aisle up to her, I would've had to confront Brendon, who returned from picking up one of Declan's toys that he dropped in another aisle. But that didn't stop me from hearing their whispered conversation about me.

"What's wrong, Elisa?"

"I-I just saw Patrick."

"Patrick? Isn't he in jail?"

"He-He must've gotten out. He was with Pete. He looked at me like he wanted to kill me." Kill her? God no! I could never do something like that to her! To anyone!

But you did...

No I didn't!

That's not what the state of California thinks...

"I'm sure he was just surprised to see you. You know, he was confined to isolation for four years. I'm sure he's just having trouble interacting with people." Having trouble interacting with people? Really? They're making me sound like I was in a mental institution or something!