Chapter 14

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        It was December 15th, and Folie was set to drop in a matter of minutes, at midnight. The four of us along with a few guys from management sat in Joe's hotel room because it was the cleanest, nervously watching the clock and computer screen. It displayed our website, where we'd been posting every so often in an attempt to get the fans more excited than they already appeared to be. Most of the comments on the message board were comical, and scrolling through them eased our nerves a bit.

        "You think they'll like it?" Joe asked, glancing around at all of us. The anxiety was clearly displayed in his eyes, not dissimilar to the rest of our's.

        "I'm sure they will. I mean, we know it's a great record; we've just got to get it out there and let it do it's thing," Pete told us, feebly trying to reassure everyone. He didn't sound quite so sure himself but the fact that he felt good enough about the record to tell us that said something in itself.

        "Yeah, the fans always support us and I doubt this'll be any different," I agreed, glancing around at the few of us in the room. Nervous gazes met mine, fingers fidgeting and feet tapping. Pete kept running a hand through his hair, an anxious tick of his that I'd always found endearing. I still did, if I'm honest.

        Since our show in Seattle several days ago, Pete and I had remained pretty platonic, nothing past cuddling. We hadn't actually stated it, but we were giving "us" another try and taking it slower this time. Much slower. It was a good thing, though. I mean, yeah, I missed his lips on mine and running my hands across the smooth skin of his chest, but if it meant he'd be mine for longer than the short time we'd had together last time, I could wait a little bit. We could be intimate without adding lust into the equation and right now, that's exactly what we needed.

        "It's midnight. The record's out there," I heard someone say, pulling me out of my reverie. In just a few moments, we'd know what the fans thought of it as they were hearing it for the first time.

        "Ready?" Joe asked, his hand hovering over the F5 key, the key that would refresh the page and show us the updated post-midnight comments. I think we were all holding our breath at this point.

        Andy nodded at him and he clicked it, the page flashing back to white as it reloaded.

        Those few seconds that it took for the page to come back up felt like hours.

        The first comment slid onto the screen and we all let out a sigh of relief as if a weight had just been lifted from our shoulders. 

        They loved it...

        So far.

~~~~~~~~~

        Pete and I headed back to his hotel room around 2 in the morning, tired but oddly energized. Dropping a new album and seeing the positive reactions was like a shot of adrenaline and it hadn't quite worn off yet. Pete was bouncing down the corridor, beckoning for me to join him even as he passed his own room.

        "C'mon Patrick! Don't you just want to run?" he asked me, looking at me with this childish grin that encompassed his entire face. Quite frankly, it was downright adorable. 

        "Sshhh, you'll wake the other sane guests," I told him, my voice just above a whisper. It was evident I was holding back laughter, obviously amused by his suddenly childish behavior. Seeing this side of him was a rare occurrence not to be taken for granted. This Pete is the one I wished surfaced more often because he radiated joy and seemed to brighten the moods of all those around him, myself included.

        He shot me a look that told me he thought I was crazy, like I'd forgotten something entirely obvious to him. "We're rock stars. Who cares?" he said with a laugh that was almost maniacal, but entirely joking. Maybe releasing a new album was less like a shot of adrenaline and more like a high, for him anyways.

        "I'm betting the people you're waking right now care," I told him, an incredulous giggle escaping my mouth. It was one of those laughs that one emits when they're amazed at another person's words, find them mildly amusing, and isn't sure what else to do because just how does one respond to such a statement? I certainly didn't know and that was partly why the noise left my mouth.

        "Aw, c'mon! That's not important," he countered, throwing his head back and laughing as if my refusal was the funniest thing in the world to him. And while on a high like this, who knows, maybe it was. When he spoke again, his eyes seemed to light up with an unknown energy. "Just run a little bit. You'll feel better, I promise."

        I didn't respond immediately so he turned on his heel and took off at a slow jog in the opposite direction.

        Reluctantly, I followed him, catching up quickly and jogging next to him down the hall.

        "This isn't running. You haven't seen anything yet, Stump," he told me, winking before picking up the pace and running at full pelt. I did my best to keep up, but what chubby kid could ever run along with the soccer star?

        His laughter floated back to me, the melodic sound filling my ears and causing me to break into a smile. It sounded better than any music we could ever make together, but I could almost call his laugh music in itself. 

        He reached the end of the hall, not even pausing to push the door to the stairwell open. It was as if he just barreled through it, flying to the stairs and gliding up them. Taking them two at a time, he was at his most graceful. By the time I reached the doorway, it was still open and I followed in his wake, only I took the stairs one at a time for fear of tripping if I tried multiples.

        Instead of stopping at the next level, he continued upward, not even seeming to slow down as if fatigue was a concept he hadn't grasped. He didn't stop until he reached the roof, bursting through the door, the wind catching it and throwing it completely open.

        I emerged a short time after him only to find him with his arms out, eyes trained on the night sky, laughing as if he'd never get another chance to laugh after tonight. Again, it was contagious and I soon found myself laughing too, oblivious to the world around us. In that moment, it didn't matter that the wind whipped around us, threatening to knock us over with it's strength; it didn't matter that the cold December air was chilling us to the very bone; it didn't matter what relationship troubles we'd gone through lately because in that moment, we were perfect.

        "Patrick?" I heard him call, eyes still trained on the heavens, arms at his sides now.

        "Yeah?" I answered, watching him with the same intent gaze he was watching the sky with in this very moment.

        "Thank you."

        "For what?"

        "Sticking with me," he told me, his tone solemn.

        "I wouldn't dream of not sticking with you. I love you, Pete."

        I hadn't said it back, but it almost seemed better telling him in this way.

A/N: I'm not entirely sure why, but this is like my favorite chapter in this entire fic (so far). I hope you guys love it as much as I do. I very rarely say positive things about my stuff but I like this.

In reguards to what I said last chapter in my A/N about not knowing where this is going, I put that in odd terms and fear I may have miscommunicated what I meant. I know where I want this to go. I actually have the last couple chapters written already because they were the first ones I wrote. I just don't know how I want to get there, if that makes any sense. Updates might still be a little late because of that, though. Thanks for your patience with me. 

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