Title: Doubts

Disclaimer: I don't own them.  But I really wish I did. 

Summary:  This is Patrick's POV to the fic I posted earlier, Tension

I remember when Pete and I first meet. We were complete opposites. He was loud and spontaneous. He would never let anything pass him by. I was anything but courageous. I hid behind my huge glasses and even bigger sweaters. I remember thinking if I hid my imperfections, maybe nobody would ever know them. If nobody saw how much of a coward I was, maybe I would never be alone. I hated to be alone. At the time I never had told anyone this. I was afraid they would laugh and send me away, and what good would that do?

In the beginning of my friendship with Pete I was nothing more than background noise. Joe and Andy would laugh it up at Pete and I would quitly sit in the corner waiting for my turn to speak. Nobody noticed that I didn’t say much, it was just… normal. I was the quiet, shy kid who good sing like nobody’s business. Oh, did I mention that part? The only reason Pete and I ever became friends was because they were looking for anyone to fill the role of singer in their unknown scene band. I dropped a few names, I sang, I got the part. Classic, isn’t it? I quess you really can be alone in a room full of friends.

It wasn’t until we actually started playing shows that Pete and I talked. He would tell me that even though he had done this so many times before, it still gave him butterflies. Pete described shows like some overly religious person would describe God. Playing was everything. His poem book became his bible. I remember he asked me how I felt before a show. I told him I really didn’t feel anything. He looked at me like I had grown a second head. I didn’t say much after that.

Over time I came to depend on Pete. He was always a constant in my life. We didn’t really even need to talk. He was always there. What really triggered our friendship was writing songs. Pete had notebooks filled with random lines of peotry and every single one I read was more beautiful than the last. He could capture words like I never thought possible. He asked how I felt will reading his poems. I told him I felt everything. He looked at me like I had just given him the best compliment someone can give another. I told him everything after that. I even told him how I hate to be alone.

After that, we were undeniably attached. I wasn’t just background noise anymore to Pete. I was the center of attention. I was his Patrick. I had never been anybody’s before. I was just Patrick; the quiet, shy kid who could sing like nobody’s business. When Pete claimed me has his friend, I was more than that. I was part of that beautiful human being I had come to associate with spontaneity and loyalty. I was an extension of Pete. And I had never felt so happy in my life.

People started to tell me that Pete and I were the type of friends they wish they could find. We were the friends that would never fight. We were the type that would stay together through everything. I wanted to believe them with everything I was. But I still had my doubts. Growing up as nothing more than a second rate friend can create certain doubts. I never doubted Pete. It was always me that I feared. What if I wasn’t everything he thought I was? What would happen if I ran out of things to say?

I think those same people told the same thing to Pete. He started to act different around me. He didn’t talk to me. He just watched and waited. I didn’t know what to do. Should I have told him my fears? Or was I right to keep quiet? Pete was always the courageous one. I never had it in my to speak my mind. Looking back I wish I did, I might not be alone know if I had.

Our friendship started to revert to how it began. I became background noise again. I was the quiet, shy kid who could sing like nobody’s business. I was never his Patrick anymore. He had never been my Pete to begin with. He still showed me his lyrics, but he never asked me how I felt about them. So I never told him I felt nothing. They were just as beautiful as they had always been. I was the one who was at fault. I was empty again.

Our shows were different too. I tried my hardest to make it seem like I still felt. I put everything I was unto those notes and those lyrics. But they never generated the same electric feeling that always followed. They were empty words to me. I came to hate the stage. Pete still seemed to enjoy it just as much as he always had. He still was in a religious stuper every time he picked up his bass. He still had that amazing connection with the crowd that I could only dream of. He was still Pete.

Mutual friends started to notice the seperation building again. They tried to get us to talk. It didn’t work. Pete had no words left for me. And I never started a conversation. I was never the courageous one. I think I felt more alone in those last few days of our friendship than I did in my entire life. But I could not speak first, I was just Patrick.

One day after a show, Pete cornered me. He didn’t say anything at first, he just looked into my glass covered eyes. I remember I was trembling. He noticed. Pete gave me the saddest expression I had ever seen grace his beautiful features. He said his last words ever uttered to me in that moment.

“I love you”

That was too much. That was everything I had ever wanted but never thought I would have in those 3 words. Pete Wentz was something you looked on from afar and worshiped. He was someone who truly deserved the world. He should not have stooped so low as to tell some quiet kid with ugly glasses that he loved him. Even though I desperately wanted to say it back, I could not do that to Pete. He was my everything. But he will never be mine. He will never be my Pete.

I ran away from him.

I would rather be alone than destroy something as beautiful as Pete Wentz.