Patrick Stump/Fall Out Boy Imagines

[PATRICK - RQ] Will It Matter After I'm Gone?

Requested by Miss_Paopou...sorry it took so long!

The four members of Fall Out Boy are sitting at a table, their manager positioned at the head and the men sitting on the sides. They're discussing dates for their upcoming tour, Pete being the most engaged member while Joe twirls a pencil around in his fingers and Andy taps his foot, listening to what the manager and Pete are saying. As for Patrick, he's completely zoned out, his head in his hands and his eyes glistening with tears.

"No, Patrick, don't...don't come over," A shaky voice emanates from his phone speaker, "I don't want you to see me like this."

"(Y/N), Andy asked me to," The singer replies, his cell phone pinned between his shoulder and ear as he cruises down the empty, dark streets of Chicago, "He's worried about you. We all are. We haven't heard from you in days and neither have your parents. I'm coming over and we're going to talk. Okay?"

"Patrick, no, please!" You shout, "Don't!"

"I'll see you soon," He tells you, disregarding your wishes and hanging up on you. He tosses the handheld device into the passenger's seat and steps down a little more on the gas, propelling the car even farther than before.

With his heart pounding against his chest and his breathing faster than normal, the lead singer of the band pulls into your driveway minutes later. He kicks his car door out and rushes up the walkway, not even bothering to knock before bending down and picking up the doormat, extracting the key you inserted into the bottom of the welcome mat and using it to unlock your door. He steps inside and sets the key down on the small table you have by the door, calling out, "(Y/N)? (Y/N), it's me, Patrick. Where are you?"

From the second floor, his voice hits your ears, stopping you from putting the combination of pills you held in your hand into your mouth. "What the fuck?" You grumble.

Panic begins to set in as you hear his footsteps echo through the house, putting the various pills into the orange container you've been collecting them in and trying to close it, but the cap refuses to go on. "Come on, come on..." You mutter to yourself, your hands shaking from anxiety.

You finally get it, only for the door you meant to lock to be pushed in, Patrick standing in the doorway. You look up and tears instantly start forming in your eyes, watching as his travel down to your hands and the pill bottle you're holding.

"(Y/N)..." He murmurs dejectedly, entering the room and walking up to you.

"Patrick, I thought...I thought I told you not to come," You stammer through the tears.

"Why would you even think about doing this, (Y/N)?" He asks you, ripping the bottle from your hands and shaking it in the air, "You know what happened to Pete; you know how badly that all shook us up. And you have the audacity to try to do something like this?" It's easy to tell that you've made him angry, furious even.

"Because I don't want to be here anymore," You confess, lowering yourself down onto the closed toilet seat and covering your face with your hands. Your back starts to shake and your breathing becomes labored. "Patrick, I-I just don't belong here. I'm a disappointment to everyone and I'm a failure. I mean, just look at Joe. He's in a fucking band that's going to tour the world in a few months. And what am I? Just his loser sister who hasn't done a fucking thing with her pathetic life."

"Who told you that?" Patrick inquires, his eyebrows furrowed together as he sets the pill bottle down on the bathroom counter and kneeling down in front of you.