Spin For You [Peterick]

-21-

Dear Patrick,

I'm not getting my hopes up. Let me just make that absolutely clear.

You broke up with her.

I'm not happy about it, I promise.

It's the last day on this damn bus, we're heading back to Chicago. Should be there by the end of the day.

You broke up with her.

The last show was amazing, everyone was screaming including me and it just felt like the whole place was one massive family, united not by blood but by music. We came off stage, drenched in sweat, and Joe cracked open a bottle of champagne he'd hidden in his dressing room and toasted to the best concert ever performed anywhere by anyone. Because, let's face it, it was.

And also you broke up with her.

Okay okay, so I'm a little mixed up at the moment, I just don't know what to feel, because I want to go home, but I love being on tour, I want to get off the bus and have more than a few square metres to myself, but I don't want to be alone, I want to sleep in a proper bed for the first time in months but I don't want to sleep at all if it isn't in your arms.

Also, Charlotte kinda shook me up.

We were on the motorway, scattered about the bus doing various things, gathering our things together mostly. I had no idea where you were, I was up the front of the bus with too-loud music blaring into my ears, unaware of everything going on around me.

And then she came and sat next to me. I didn't even notice at first, but she shifted around a bit and nudged my arm by accident. I looked up and saw her, a bit pissed that she brought me out of my day dream, which had not been about you, and confused as to why she was even here. She didn't like me, why was she now sitting next to me?

Reluctantly, I paused my music and took my headphones off, looking at her with irritated expectation. Anyone who interrupts my jamming sessions better have a fucking good excuse.

"Patrick and I broke up."

I'm listening.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, ignoring the little leap my heart did.

"Uh...I'm sorry." I said pathetically, not really knowing how to react. She didn't look really upset, or really angry, so I wasn't sure why she had told me. I guess I'm glad she did though.

"Nah, don't be, to be honest I...I know it sounds horrible, but I think it was going that way anyway." She sighed. Right, so, disappointed, deflated, but not heartbroken.

"What happened?" I asked, deciding not to question this and just go with it.

"Um...I guess we just didn't have that...that spark, y'know?" She fiddled with a loose thread in her jeans, "And also...I kinda get the feeling he likes someone else." She looked me straight in the eye. I pretended to misunderstand what she was implying.

"Oh. So, uh, who do you think he likes?"

She laughed. "Well, I don't know for certain. But I have a vague idea." And she gave me that look again. "And to be honest, I think him and the person he likes would be really cute together." I felt a tingle run across my skin.

"Oh okay. Well, at least you ended on good terms."

"Yeah. I mean, dad already made it clear not to start fights with any of the band members, seeing as it could put him out of a job. So a messy breakup wouldn't have helped anything. Plus, I think, I think we knew from the start that it wasn't really gonna go anywhere. Patrick's a great guy, I would have loved to learn to love him, but...I think we're better off just staying friends. So we agreed to break it off."

Holy shit, we were into proper emotional relationship stuff. She should have talked to someone else if she wanted advice or whatever, unless she wants tips on getting wasted, getting laid and getting home to a cold, empty house at unholy hours of the day. Because we all know I'm great at that.

"But anyway," she continued, "I hope he finds someone. Or someone finds him." Her eyes were trained on me as she spoke. "Because, I think there's someone out there who can make him very happy. And, if they were listening, then I'd like to tell them that he's all theirs.'"

And with that, she got up and walked back down the bus.

So.

What to make of that.

Nothing. I'm not going to make anything of it. I'm just going to go home, unpack my stuff, and not think about it. Because if I do I'll start hoping. And hope is just a ready-mix for disappointment.

I'll act casual. Oh, hey, Patrick, sorry to hear about you and Charlotte. Yeah, that's fine. Okay.

We'll be home soon. I'll finish this letter, and start getting my things together.

But you broke up with her.

From Pete