Even though he was working with two recording artists, running errands for Pete's father when Pete couldn't, and going out with Willam, Shane, and Justin, he still was pretty deep into planning a show for The Whoremones. Joe had joined the lineup for what they figured would be the final show, and though Nancy (their main guitarist) was putting together a setlist, Patrick was working on ways to incorporate the orchestra he'd been promised by Joe.
Apparently Joe's high school had an orchestra that was down to join them in their concert.
So it wouldn't be too hard, composing. He'd done it before.
But at the moment, he was currently at a gay club with Shane (Courtney, he supposed, since she was in drag) and Willam. Justin had to work, otherwise he would've joined in.
Patrick had already had sex a few times that night, but never revealed his actual age to anyone. Men didn't need to know they were screwing a minor, especially when he enjoyed it as much as he did. One time, Patrick had topped, and that was an interesting experience because they walked out of the room with the other man claiming that had been some of the best sex he'd ever had.
Joe was a good teacher.
Still, he met up with Courtney and Willam every now and then periodically through the night, and he would get others to get him drinks every now and then, but he was wandering around having a generally good time. Eventually, though, he was taken back to a room he'd already been in with a boy he didn't know, but appeared to be under twenty one as well. Still, he was cute and they were talking on the bed and that was that for a while.
He didn't realize what he was doing, however, until the other boy was on top of him, and Patrick could feel himself growing gradually hard. It was aggressive, the way he was being kissed, but he didn't particularly care. He hungrily kissed the strange boy, but was careful to not really assert any dominance, because this boy had already done that via the initiation and Patrick didn't feel like topping again tonight.
The stranger gripped at his hips, grinding against him and causing Patrick to let out a low moan through the kiss. His lip dragged when the strange boy pulled away from the kiss, as the stranger's hands roamed Patrick's body, teasing in some places before he pulled the smaller boy's shirt off.
Patrick figured he'd just call this stranger like Dean or something.
Still, he whined at the lack of touch when Dean pulled away, but he came back and flicked deep black hair from almost silver eyes and took off his own shirt and belt, moving closer to Patrick with a wrapped condom in his teeth. He spit it out next to Patrick, but Dean moved his hand up to brush Patrick's strawberry hair from his face.
"How many have you had tonight, baby boy?"
"Three," he murmured with a small pant, running his hands down Dean's chest.
"So you're experienced, good. Did you use protection?"
"Every time."
"Good."
Dean bent down, his hands between Patrick's thighs and moving upwards until they felt his belt and undid it, tugging it off and leaving it on the floor with his shirt. His jeans were slid off next, and Dean practically sat on Patrick, working his hands up his body until he leaned down to leave a mark on his collarbone.
There was a moan from the smaller boy, but it wasn't long until he was completely de-clothed and on his stomach, being penetrated by this stranger he'd elected to call Dean.
It really was a strange night, but he was glad Courtney was driving him home and they were all spending the night together.
-
Patrick didn't realize he was a whore until it was too late. One night was all it took- one night of multiple people putting into practice what he'd learned.
He was sick to his stomach, and was almost late to work, but he never said anything. Though, they could tell he was different. Nobody really said anything, but he was just out of it. He was helping with recording Lady Gaga that day, so most of the time he was kept so busy that it wasn't a big deal. If he wasn't supposed to be doing anything, he was writing in a small little book just random phrases and stuff that sounded like a mix of music and poetry.
It was between takes that he had to step outside to answer his phone. He hadn't even bothered to check and see who it was, he just stood in the hall with his hand in his pocket and the other holding his phone.
"Hello?" he answered, trying to come up with a gag answer if it turned out to be someone he didn't know.
"I'm...surprised you answered," came from the other line. He was surprised to hear his sister's voice, but he didn't say anything. "I just needed someone to talk to, and I don't know who I can trust anymore."
His sister was a bitch to him, but she was his sister. She deserved a little humanity, and she seemed genuinely worked up. "What's up? Did something happen with mom and dad, or...?"
"No, I just feel like I can't talk to them about this, you know?"
"I don't know. I just need you to tell me what's going on...are you okay?" he asked first, starting to get worried she'd hurt herself.
"Yeah, 'nd besides, mom and dad aren't home. They're out with their friends and they're getting back tomorrow at some point."
"That's not what I asked, Chelsea. I just...need you to tell me what happened, and if you're okay."
"I'm...not okay." It seemed like she was having a genuinely hard time telling him what was wrong. "I don't know what to do! I just think the only thing I can do is...is..."
"Is what?"
"Mom and dad are gonna be so pissed- fuck."
"Chelsea, I can't help you if you're not going to tell me what's wrong. Okay? If there's not actually anything wrong, then I'm going to go back to work."
"I'm probably pregnant! Is that what you wanted to hear?! Well, congrats!"
"If that's what's wrong, then yes, I want to hear it!" He'd snapped first, but then let it sink in. He leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes as he tried to think over what she'd just told him. "You don't know for sure?"
She sighed audibly. "No, no I don't. I'm late, that's all I know. Like, a week late."
It took him a minute to figure out what it meant, but when he did, he bit his lip. "Want me to come down? I'm not doing very much right now, it's mostly tech stuff and even then I'm also the coffee slave, so I won't be missed."
Chelsea was stubborn. It was obvious she didn't want to admit she needed help, but when she actually needed it, she was very hesitant to even say anything in the first place. "Yeah," she eventually said, "I'd like that."
"I'll call you when I'm on my way over."
He hung up with that, poking his head inside the room and quietly shutting the door behind him as he went back to the booth. Lady Gaga was in the middle of a take, and he wasn't going to interrupt. When she'd finished, he told the producer he had to go on account of a family emergency, and upon being asked if he'd be coming back the next day, his response had been "I don't know, but it's driving to Orange County, so I hope but I don't know" and he was allowed to leave.
He plucked one of his new cds from the glovebox and stuck it in once he had gotten in his car, not really looking to see what it was as he started the drive out of the lot and back home. He'd texted that he was on his way at a red light, but otherwise he was fairly quiet the whole way home. He had to pull over to switch the cd out once, but otherwise he made decent time for driving from LA.
Despite being aware of what was going on, he tried to distract himself by singing along to the music and focusing on the road. He was tired, he knew that much, and being home was welcomed. When he pulled up to the house, it looked almost eerily empty. He locked his car and went inside, glancing around.
"Chelsea?! Are you still here?!" he called, taking off his glasses and quirking an eyebrow as he moved further inside. "Seriously, I just came from LA, so where the hell are you?"
She poked her head over the banister of the staircase. "Yeah, 'm up here," she said. She was dressed completely, looking more like a model than his sister as she went down the stairs. "Hi."
"Hey, you okay?" he asked first, giving her a once-over and sticking his phone back in his pocket.
"Yeah, I just...yeah."
Patrick sighed audibly, gesturing for her to come over. She'd wrapped her arms around him in an instant, buried her face into his shoulder and tried not to cry. She wasn't wearing any makeup, but with the sunglasses on, he couldn't really tell. It was an odd feeling, as they hadn't really interacted civilly in years, but Patrick pulled away.
"We need to take care of this now," he told her. "When are mom and dad coming home?"
"Tomorrow at some point." She shook her head. "Mom would notice if I went through her stuff, and I don't have any tests, I just..."
"Hey, hey, relax for a minute." Patrick shifted to hold her by her shoulders. "Breathe and just look at me. We'll go pick up some tests and go from there, okay?"
"O-okay..." She paused as Patrick pulled back to go to the door. "If I am? I think I want an abortion."
"You think or you know?" he asked as he glanced back at her.
Clearly hesitant, she still managed to pull out the answer. "I know."
Part of him couldn't explain what he was seeing on their drive over to CVS. It was like he saw two futures for his sister, and though one was better than the other, one was happier than the other too.
He shook it out of his head, staying parked outside of the CVS for a few minutes before he went inside to get himself something to drink and kleenex to keep in the car. He met back up with Chelsea in the car, and he took them back home. He figured she'd rather do it at home, where it at least felt safer.
And she did, and he sat on the stairs playing a game on his phone or texting the group chat he had with the drag queens. The current name of it was "Courtney Act is a Slut for Halsey" and it was amusing at least. It took his mind off things. Still, it was half an hour before she came down and sat next to him with a small sigh.
"What time is it?"
"Two thirty," he answered, "why?"
"I...I want to do this now. Before mom and dad come home. I need to do this before I think again about it."
Patrick looked at her in shock. Did that technically mean he was an uncle? Well, not for long, but still. He didn't know what to do except nod. "Planned Parenthood is open until six," he said, getting up. "If we're going this now, we don't have much time."
"But they're open until-"
"It takes awhile, Chelsea. You gotta fill out paperwork and shit."
Neither of them really knew how much it would cost, but they figured that between what little money she had, and what money she stole from various places in the house, and what money Patrick had from his last paycheck, it would at least cover the procedure and dinner after. She deserved something.
It was a silent ride between the two all the way to the clinic, but when they got there, Patrick mostly just stood to the side for moral support. He helped her fill out the paperwork between texts and calls to Aaron (who never questioned what was going on) and ended up waiting outside for her to finish closer to five thirty and four hundred dollars later.
They'd had to jump through hoops and pretend Aaron was their father, but it ended up working, and she was getting the abortion she needed and that was that.
But as he stood outside, he just couldn't get one thing off his mind.
A butterfly effect.
- - - - - -
so yep, that was a choice that put her on a very different path than she was supposed to take, but it'll play out more in the sequel then here at the moment. still, shit happened lmao
more of the story starts to take place back home for patrick, and while he still works in LA there's less of a focus on it
<3 you guys more than kanye loves kanye, votes and comments are much appreciated xoxo