Patrick clearly had a problem. Pete watched with cautious eyes as the small man tilted the bottle to pour the last bit into his very used glass. Maybe he should have made him drink orange juice.
"It's all gone." Patrick told him with wide eyes.
"I know." Pete nodded. "You drunk it."
"I know." He whispered this time.
Pete was just happy Patrick wasn't the loud and obnoxious drunk. That would cause the kind of scene that they didn't really need. And that would make Ryan lose his mind.
Instead, Patrick was the really talkative drunk. He hadn't shut up since he started drinking. Pete admittedly had two glasses. But that means that Patrick had finished off the rest of it alone. He even had the champagne giggles. It was cute. Girls with champagne giggles were always cute. Patrick wasn't a girl though. So was Pete allowed to think he was cute? Not if he was straight. He shook the thought out of his head.
"Are you done?"
"I didn't finish my food. But we've been here long enough. So maybe we should leave. I didn't finish my food though."
"You said that already."
Pete put his usual three bills on the table and stood up. Patrick stood up with him. More stable than Pete would have thought he could have. Patrick grabbed a hold Pete's arm to steady himself. This wasn't going to go well at all.
"Did you eat?"
"Yes, I ate." Pete rolled his eyes. "Listen, kid, when we get out there you have to keep your head down."
"Yup!" Patrick smiled slowly.
"Head down. Silent. And get in the car. Do you understand?"
"Yup."
Pete eyed him warily. He dug into his jacket's inner pocket and took out his favorite Dior sunglasses. Knowing he'd probably regret it. He placed them on Patrick. Maybe he wouldn't have to understand. Pete would just guide him to the car. And then deal with Ryan for choosing an alcoholic for something so important.
Pete opened the door and stepped out. Holding onto Patrick tightly. The flashes and questions started again. Just walk. If he walked fast enough, Patrick wouldn't have time to do anything. Or say anything that would fuck them.
"Can we walk?" Patrick asked.
Pete snapped his head towards him. It took every ounce of his self control not to glare daggers into the kid's face. Instead he smiled.
"Not today-"
"Please!" Patrick begged. "It's so nice out."
"Who is this man, Mr. Wentz?"
"No comment."
"Is he your brother?"
"Brother?" Patrick scoffed.
"Be quiet, please." Pete whispered to him. Then he turned to the cameras. "I said no comment."
"I am not his brother." Patrick snatched his arm away from Pete. He beamed at the cameras. "I'm his boyfriend."
"His boyfriend?" A reported asked. "What's your name?"
Pete grabbed him again. "No. Comment."
He almost growled.
"Are you ashamed of your boyfriend?"
"He's not ashamed of me!" Patrick rolled his eyes flamboyantly.
"That's enough." Pete tried to pull him towards the waiting car. But the little man was stronger than he looked.
"What's your name?" Someone asked again.
"Uh, Petey doesn't want me to tell you my name. Sorry."
"Petey, can you confirm that this is your boyfriend?" Some smart-ass called to him.
"No comment."
This time Pete was able to snatch Patrick away. Patrick clumsily tripped. Pete caught him in his arms. He glanced at the sunglasses on the man's face. Smilng when he saw that they were still in tack. That was close. He opened the car door and tossed Patrick in. A little harder than he probably should have.
He got in after him and slammed the door. Jefferson took off immediately. Patrick's head was resting against the seat. Pete couldn't see his eyes because of the glasses. He took out his phone and pressed a button.
"It's Ryan!" The voice on the other end of the line chirped.
"You're not going to be so cheerful when I'm done with you." Pete warned.
"What happened?" His voice dulled.
"The kid, happened."