Crash Landing Indianapolis (Peterick)

Lap One

"Two laps left to go, Johnny."

"We have Ross in third just passed by Hurley!"

"I think Stump is going to take it, gentlemen."

"There's no catching this rookie tonight. It's in the bag."

"And Patrick Stump crosses the checkered flag! Hurley, Ross, Way, and Weekes finish out the top five."

"Up next is the post-race recap and interview with Patrick Stump, our winner tonight here in Charlotte."

*****

Pete laughed as he read the headline of the sports section in the morning newspaper. He had never understood the appeal of watching cars drive in circles at dangerous speeds. Sure, Pete flew a 175,000 pound commercial jet at 500 miles per hour, but his job had a purpose. He took hundreds of thousands of people to and from their destinations every year. He wasn't putting his life in danger to win a meaningless trophy, especially if there was a chance he would be beaten by a rookie.

The man on the front page of the sports section was also on the cover of every magazine on the racks in the stores. The blond was the wet dream of every sport magazine feature. Pop culture magazines sold out when his figure was the cover.

Patrick Stump went from rookie race car driver to sex symbol in one season. Not that Pete had to wonder why.

Patrick was gorgeous. When the helmet came off after winning a race, his sweaty blond locks swept a funny way. His blue eyes sparkled with happiness. But Pete never looked for very long. He didn't read the articles. The pretentious race car star had no impact on his life.

Pete finished his coffee before quickly washing out his cup and fetching his suitcase from his bedroom.

The commercial pilot was unimpressed with the upcoming Daytona 500. It wasn't anything he ever wanted to watch, but his co-pilot got tickets for the weekend they were spending in Florida before flying home to Chicago.

Pete didn't want to admit it, but he wanted to see for himself just how amazing the young blond driver really was.

Pete wasn't sure if he meant amazing in regards to his looks or his driving. He tried to promise himself that it was strictly to see just how professional the rookie driver was. He kept thinking about Patrick's snobbish attitude on television interviews after the races, whether he won or lost. But Pete also knew that the driver was probably considered, at this point, one of the sexiest men alive by popular magazines.

Patrick was famous for doing virtually nothing. Pete was the one who risked his life every day. And what did he get? Nothing.

*****

Two days earlier, Patrick stood in a suit with his helmet under his arm and a girl draped over his other. She pushed her breasts against his elbow and stared at the camera for the sexy yet serious shot the magazine was going for.

Patrick didn't care for any of the girls that were hired to take magazine shots with him. He was looking for something that he couldn't have. His career didn't allow it. Being an openly gay race car driver wasn't all it was cracked up to be. So Patrick kept it hidden.

"Patrick, look to your left!"

Flash.

"That's hot. Give the model the cold shoulder!"

Flash.

The shoot lasted twenty minutes too long for Patrick's liking.

"You did great, Trick," his manager said as he walked off of set. He wrapped an arm around Patrick's shoulders and talked in his ear so his girlfriend, who was following close behind, could not hear. "Miranda is pissed, but she'll get over it in time for the shoot with her after the race. Everyone is expecting you to win."

They stopped walking once they reached the doors to go outside. Patrick's manager stepped to the side. Patrick hid his eyes with black sunglasses, and his girlfriend took her place at his side with his hand wrapped in hers.

They stepped outside, being met with the flashes of cameras from paparazzi. Miranda smiled. Patrick turned his nose up and walked through the crowd, with his manager clearing a path in front of them.

*****

Pete was already exhausted when they landed in Charlotte. He was grateful for the hotel room that was waiting for him to nap in before the flight to Florida.

Pete had been flying with barely a break. He hadn't been home in weeks.

But Pete was used to not being home. He had just gotten out of the Air Force a few years prior. Flying planes was his life.

Ever since he was a kid, Pete wanted to be a pilot. He loved watching air shows and admiring jets fly through the sky over his house.

His parents were always against the idea, worried about the safety. Pete went against his parents' wishes and enlisted in the military as soon as he could.

Pete collapsed on the hotel bed in his uniform. He couldn't be bothered to change. He laid on his stomach and listened to the noise his co-pilot made as he stripped his uniform off and climbed into his own bed.

"You sleeping like that, Pete?" Brendon asked, trying not to laugh.

But Pete was already asleep.

Brendon shook his head and laid down after shutting off the light.

*****

Patrick wasn't supposed to let his girlfriend know that she was actually hired. When the met on a magazine set a few months ago, Patrick was forced to go up and talk to her. His manager stayed on the sidelines, listening in to see if she seemed like a good fit.

It was hard for Patrick to remember to act happy around her.

Patrick just smiled as the cameras flashed and allowed Miranda to get close to him to pose for the pictures. Her manicured nails dug into Patrick's arm, letting him know that she was unhappy.

It was only the afternoon after the race and the paparazzi were all over him. He couldn't imagine what it would be like after Daytona, regardless of if he won or not.

His manager allowed for a few pictures of the couple before ushering them away to the car. They had a plane to catch.