Chapter Text
“We should do something.”
“What, exactly, do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know dude! Something, if we don’t, he’ll lose his mind!”
Andy breathes out a heavy sigh as he looks to where Joe is grandly gesturing to. Beyond the glass frosted glass door, he knows that Pete is in there behind his desk, working for what would be his fourth day straight, more than likely sleep deprived, only making a quick walk to his apartment to shower when either himself of Joe force him to do so. Andy wouldn’t be surprised if the CEO was either pulling at his hair, on the verge of trashing the office, or just on the brink of a massive debilitating panic attack/mental break-down...or some combination of the three.
About four days ago, DCD2 got hit with some threatening paperwork from an investor, claiming that although DCD2 was a privately owned company, there was some clause in a contract that stated something to the effect that, in a way, the company was still a public enterprise, and thus, could easily be put up for sale for an umbrella company, to be owned by someone bigger, in the form of investment rights, which completely went over the company’s management’s heads.
It was a fucking dirty trick, and Pete was more than determined to keep his record label out of the greasy hands of sharks, even if he was in charge, he didn’t want anyone breathing down his neck and monitoring his label’s every more.
Pete wasn’t about to let that happened, not if it fucking cost him his sanity, Andy knew very well.
“It’s been like, what?” started Joe as they walked to the waiting lobby in front of Pete’s office, interns, staff, and Pete’s secretary nodding good morning as was they passed. “Like 96 hours? Give or take about three or four?” He runs a hand through his curly hair, his fingertips rubbing against the sheared section at the nape of his neck. “He needs a break, Andy.”
“He’s not going to stop until he finds a clause that’s gonna save the label, but he’s already close. You remember Mark Hoppus?”
Joe perks up at the name, curly hair flying as he nods. “Yeah, the Hopp-man. He’s Pete’s old mentor, right? The badass who’s a lawyer, but not really a lawyer? He helped us with our first lease and contracts and shit.”
“Yeah, him. Last time I went to check on Pete, he had him on speaker, they were talking about loopholes, and Pete was trying to find his lead. Apparently, he sent Mark a copy of the contact so that he could help us out,” Andy explained, leaning against the wall with tattooed arms crossing his chest.
“At least we have someone on our side,” sighed Joe with a little smile. While it was their baby as well, the threat was made directly at Pete, and truth be told, he and Andy really didn’t have much knowledge in the way contacts worked. Pete on the other hand, knew what he was doing, after all, he was one semester short of graduating from DuPaul with his Bachelors in Political Science with a concentration in Legal Studies, and besides, Pete made a lot of friends when he was in school and in the underground. Mark Hoppus, just so happened to be one of the few whom fit into both those scenes.
After a moment, Joe and Andy looked over to the frosted door of Pete’s office, his name written neatly on a small plaque beside it, worried for their long-time friend written in their faces. They know how Pete gets, especially when it comes to the label, and the last thing they want is lose Pete to a mental breakdown in all this chaos and sudden stress.
Suddenly, Joe’s head perked up with an idea, his blue eyes bright with a stroke of genius. Andy caught the motion and eyed him curiously, waiting for Joe to speak.
“When was the last time Pete went for a coffee break?”
x.X.x
Patrick plays idly on his phone during the last break of his morning shift, feeling bored after his fifth game of Candy Crush, before going back to look at the last text from Pete.
‘Im rly sry. Smthng came up @ work, I might b quiet 4 a few days b4 I can fix it. :( I miss u.’
‘That’s okay =). I’ll be here if you need me for anything…I miss you too.’
‘ :) ’
It’s been about three or four days since that text.
He and Pete have been seeing each other (or is it dating? Unoffically dating? Who the fuck knows) for a little over a month and a half. Between work, school, and Pete’s work, they would text each other as often as they could, not to mention Pete would always stop by and grab coffee during his shifts. Not to mention, they’ve gone out on about four or five dates (there’s one that questionable because he doesn’t really know if Pete spending a fifteen minute break with him while he was at work counts, but afterwards, Brendon and Hayley wouldn’t shut up about how Patrick just wouldn’t stop smiling and glowing afterwards…he wanted to murder them both…). Besides that one date in question, each one ended with a goodbye or goodnight kiss(-es, he mentally adds with a smile), which always made Patrick’s heart beat twice as fast, not to mention, his best melodies always came to him after his dates, the lasting feeling of Pete’s lips against his lingering in the back of his mind as he strummed his acoustic, jotting down melodies and cords on his coffee table.
After their last date, which was an early dinner after class and a movie, Patrick invited Pete up to his apartment with an offer of coffee and his record collection. That night, they debated over Bowie and Prince, but came to a unanimous agreement that Saves the Day and Green Day were God and even their lesser known albums were amazing, and anyone who said otherwise needed to really re-evaulate their lives (or needed some common sense knocked into them with a kick to the head, Pete’s words, not his.)
That night they also happened to make out on Patrick’s couch as Elvis Costello crooned in the background, one of his slower songs softly playing as the mindless tv show they had been watching was on mute. It was in the during their second kiss, the sweet taste of vanilla coffee with just a hint of caramel from the creamer he had put into it, that Patrick found himself seated comfortably in the older boy’s lap, one of Pete’s hands resting on his hip while the other carefully cradling his neck, playing with the soft strawberry brown strains there, all the while, Patrick’s hands with carefully situated on with Pete’s shoulders or chest, noting at how firm and warm his body was underneath the well-loved and worn shirts.
Nothing happened, he swears, they just ended up making out for a few more minutes, (okay, maybe more than a few minutes) before they realized the time, pulling away from each other with shy smiles and flushes cheeks. As Patrick walked Pete to the door, their fingers laced together, there was an unspoken promise in their last careful kiss that made Patrick’s heart melt, as they parted, whispers of goodnight against each other’s lips.
He can’t help but smile at the memory.
“Oooo…someone’s got it bad.”
The reddish-brown haired barista rolls his eyes as he spots Hayley enter the breakroom, just about to start her shift. She smiles brightly over at Patrick as she ties on her apron over her loud highlighter yellow shirt and black shorts, pulling her hair into a ponytail.
“Well, hello to you to Hayley,” he says plainly, a smile still on his face despite the tone in his voice.
“Hey Patrick,” she giggles, “Thinking about your favorite customer?” she teases, taking a seat next to Patrick on the beat-up couch of the coffeeshop’s breakroom. “I actually haven’t seen him in a couple of days.”
“Something happened at his work…he’s been busy,” Patrick explained, taking off his fedora to ruffle up his hair before perching it back on his head. His smile turns a little sad, and truthfully, he doesn’t know how he feels about this, other than he really misses Pete.
“He’s been treating you well?” Hayley asks softly, smiling over at Patrick.
“Yeah, really well…it’s just that he texted me that he was going on radio silence for a bit and I guess…”
“You miss him.”
Patrick nods with a chuckle as he pushes his glasses up his nose. “Yeah, I do.”
Hayley leans over to hug him. “Holy Pop-Tarts Patrick! You’ve got it so bad for this guy,” she pulls away for a moment before continuing, smiling as she does. “And he does too. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, ‘Trick, he’s head over-heels for you too.” She jumps from the sofa over to get her nametag. “You’re in L-O-V-E! Don’t even deny it!” and with that she’s out the door before Patrick could even say anything, leaving him alone in the break room with even bigger flush on his cheeks…Goddamnit, he hated being so pale.
He glanced back at his phone, noting that his break was already over and that he only had about an hour left in his shift before he was done for the day, since his professor had answered the class’ prayers and gave them a day off after a major test, and Patrick couldn’t be anymore grateful.
Gerard was in the front today, with Patrick, and now Hayley, helping out with orders as the mid-morning rush came in. He greeted and chatted with familiar customers as he made their drinks, talking to Elisa as she stopped by to grabbed her morning dirty chai and muffin, and chatting with Ray Toro, another regular whom he did open mic nights, and Gerard’s little brother, Mikey.
“I’m telling you Patrick, you need to collab together with Travie McCoy, the guy from our theory class,” started Ray as he waited for his drink, Mikey leaning close to his side (Patrick catches Hayley at the corner of his eye, discreetly nudging Gerard’s side before gesturing over to Ray and Mikey, a questioning look in her eyes that literally screamed ‘What the flapjacks is this? Are they a thing or what, man?! I NEED ANSWERS LIKE AIR!!’. The redhead barista just shrugged his shoulder in the ‘Hell if I know,’ way, which left Hayley exasperated, before going back to tending some baked goods.) “It would be fucking awesome man.”
“Maybe one day for open mic,” Patrick smiled as he poured frothed milk into a latte for Ray, before starting the dark chocolate mocha for Mikey. He and Travie actually talked about collaborating before for their final project in one of their classes, and even Patrick had to admit that he looked forward to what he and Travie could come up with after hearing some of his stuff.
“I’ve heard some of McCoy’s beats,” started the younger Way brother, picking at a wayward curl on Ray’s head. “I can definitely hear you backing up some of them, you two just need to have a session together, you’ll both come up with something amazing in no time.”
Patrick slides the dark mocha over to Mikey, with a smile. “We’ll see, keep an ear out if you hear from him, if he’s interest, maybe we can put something together for open mic night.”
Ray and Mikey nod before saying something about catching class or studying for one. As they leave they Mikey shouts out a “Later Gee!”, and the next few customers pour in.
The late morning rush makes is shift pass by faster than he thinks, and before he knows it, Gerard’s giving him a tap on a shoulder and Hayley is already situated at the register, her blackboard now on display, doodled with chalk drawings of cats and unicorns and something about secretly being a marshmallow princess…
“Shifts up, man,” Gerard smiles over to Patrick.
“I’ll just finish up the last two customers’ order and then I’ll head out,” gesturing over to the two men who just entered the coffeeshop. After the rush, it was pretty chill, and Patrick really didn’t mind. He had nowhere else to be anyways after he got out.
“You sure, Patrick?”
“Yeah, I got it,” he smiled, running some expresso glasses and the steel frother under the sink, before starting on his own after-shift drink: a hot mocha with a pump of hazelnut, vanilla, and caramel with a half a shot of expresso. Usually he would go for some green tea or Chai tea, but what the hell, he wanted some coffee today.
“Hi there! What can we make for you today?” he hears Hayley ask the customers, who know now added to the handful in their cozy little shop post-rush.
“Yeah, um…hey, you want anything, man?” he heard one customer ask thoughtfully.
“We didn’t exactly come here for that, you idiot,” he hears another add with an annoyed tone
“Since we’re here we might as well!”
Patrick doesn’t look up as his back is turned, but he hears someone sigh with defeat.
“Soy hazelnut Latte.”
“Thought so! Okay, yeah, one of those, and can I have a vanilla iced coffee…oh and we’re also wondering if we could possibly kidnap a fedora-wearing dude by the name of Patrick? He’s a barista here…right?”
….What?....
Patrick turns around slowly looking at the two customers at the register, both a bit taller than himself, one with curly dark hair and bright blue eyes, tattoos along both his arms, and the other, short dark brown-red hair and the beginnings of a ginger beard forming around his mouth and along his jaw, he’s also wearing a fitted, but not tight shirt, and could tell that he works out, not to mention had even more tattoos covering his arms that the dude with a fro. While the guy ordering didn’t look quiet as intimidating, the other dude did, and Patrick had to vaguely ask himself ‘What the hell did I do?’
“Yo, Patrick, we don’t have a key for kidnaping you, how much would you price yourself as?” asked Hayley causally as Gerard rolls his eyes behind her, comically face-palms himself as the orange haired barista smiles brightly at him.
“Um…can I help you?” Patrick ask wearily as he eyes the two customers.
“You’re Patrick? Pete’s Patrick?” The dude with the fro ask, eyes hopeful.
Patrick perks up at Pete’s name. “You guys know Pe-” and before he could finish his question, realization hits him. Pete mentioned numerous times his two best friends who work at DCD2
“They’re like brothers to me,” he mentions one night over beer as they wait for their burgers. “Joe, you can’t miss him. He’s got a crazy curly hair going on, and it’s only tamed when he either slicks it back or has it in a little man bun. He plays bad-ass guitar, and used to, well, still kinda is, a bit of a pothead but he’s got a heart of gold.”
“With Andy, his looks can be fucking deceiving. He looks like a scary motherfucker at first, since you can tell he works out a lot, and he’s covered in tattoos. But he’s a fucking teddy bear, ‘Trick. He’s a CrossFit junkie, Straightedge, Vegan Teddy Bear who’s such a nerd, not to mention a beast when it comes to drumming…I always look up to him, he was kind of my moral compass for a long time before I grew the fuck up…” Pete chuckles and smiles big and bright over to Patrick, fingers laced with each other. “I probably wouldn’t be where I am now without those two dumbasses.”
‘The hair…the tattoos…holy smokes.’
“You’re…Joe and Andy? Pete’s friends…He talks about you two a lot,”
Both guys look at each other briefly before Andy spoke with a smile. “Hopefully Pete’s been telling you the good, if not, we’ve got shit on him too that we wouldn’t mind sharing.”
Patrick smiles and shakes his head. “Nothing but good, I can assure you,” he says looking over at Pete’s best friends, the two closest people in the world whom he considered his brothers.
“Cool, so I’m Joe, this is Andy,” he smiles, pointing over to the heavily tattooed man beside him who gives a small but energetic wave. “And, we would really like to kidnap you if we can…Pete’s held up in his office and we can’t get him out…we figured coffee from his favorite place would help, especially if it was delivered by his favorite human begin.”
“How cute!!” Patrick leveled a look over to Hayley as she grinned. “Holy shit, this is so sweet I think I’m going to need to see a dentist after work!”
Patrick simply rolled his eyes. “She’s like that,” he shrugged catching the way Joe and Andy look over at Hayley. “Brendon, our baker/other barista is ten times worse,” chimes in Gerard as he leans against the back counter. Patrick doesn’t even want to think about what Brendon would be saying during this…he’s more than sure when he comes in for the afternoon shift, Hayley gush and next thing Patrick knows he’s going to be blowing up his phone for more details and ridiculous suggestions…That’s the last thing he wants to think about right now. “My shift actually ended before you came in, and my professor canceled class for the afternoon, so…I guess that makes me available for kidnapping?” he chuckles, adjusting his fedora.
Joe turned and beamed over at Andy. “What did I tell you? I’m a genius!”
Andy simply rolled his eyes with a small smile. “If that’s what makes you sleep better at night Trohman.”
Patrick smiles and laughs. He could see why Pete’s such close friends with them, not to mention he could see how easily Pete would fit in, it was almost like a puzzle piece. “Let me get those drinks ready for you, and I’ll make something for Pete.
x.X.x.
Joe and Andy are actually….much cooler than Patrick originally thought. It’s a little after 11:15am when they leave the coffeeshop, Joe balancing a drink carrier packed with three cups of coffee and four sugar cookies, courtesy of Hayley and Gerard, while Patrick took careful sips of his own while they walked. As it turns out, Patrick learns that Joe was the first one to hear about their shop and would always send an intern or an assistant for coffee runs when they first started out, it also turns out that he and Joe are fairly close in age and has a lot of friends attending school, hence how he heard about the coffeeshop.
“Who knew a little bit of gossip among a bunch of half-baked college kids would land Panda-ella his fedora wearing prince…I’m telling you Andy, we’re fucking fairy godfathers or something!”
“Panda-ella?” Patrick ask with a raised eyebrow while making the short trip over to the office.
It was Andy’s turn to chuckle. “Long story, all you need to know was that Pete went through a guy-liner phase years ago.”
“The whole emo thing, Patrick! Eyeliner and black nail polish, and flat ironed hair,” Joe laughed. “And this one here,” he jabs his thumb over toward Andy. “Used to have long hair, like passed his shoulders, and a labret piercing and half the tattoos.”
Andy shrugged, “At least I didn’t bleach my hair with peroxide and sleep in a dog kennel.”
“That was ONE TIME, man!!”
Patrick just rolled his eyes. “So, you guys were in a band together? Pete mentioned that the three of you used to be in the underground scene for a while.”
“Yeah, we did a little with Arma Angelus, but it never really took off, that’s when Pete got this crazy idea to start a label-”
Hold up…what?
As they reached the steps of a freaking skyscraper, Patrick stopped and looked at the two men with a confused look. “Wait what? … and am I even allowed to go into the office? I mean, you two work here, but I-.”
Joe and Andy stopped in their tracks, turned to look at the strawberry blond barista, because, crap. They knew Pete was careful. After his last couple of relationships, Pete had made the conscious decision to leave out the fact that he was a CEO for a label, because in all reality, all that title attracted with money hungry dates and sinful smiles that wanted nothing more than what Pete had in his bank account. Pete has had more than his share of backstabbing girlfriends and explosive relationships (Jeanne’s always a sore topic, and neither Andy nor Joe want to ever see him that low again) But the fact that he hadn’t told Patrick yet…
Andy motions for Patrick to follow him inside, where the doorman greets them as they enter. Patrick is still curious as they enter the elevator and pressed the button for the 27th floor, the top most floor for the label. “So…Pete did mention that he works for DCD2…right?” asked Andy carefully, Joe watching the conversation unfold with wide eyes.
“Yeah, he gave me his card. On our first date I asked him what he does,” Patrick starts, taking a sip from his drink. “He told me you he worked with some of the artist and dabbles in a little bit of everything, and that he works along with you two. And, I quote him, he’s ‘more of a pity case than anything’,” he says using air quotes. “I high doubt he’s a pity case, he just said he knows two of the guys who founded the label…”
Andy and Joe share a look before the elevator dings that they’ve hit the floor to the executives’ offices, which was a mix of modern décor with workable and open ambiance. They step off and are greeted with a steady flow of workers walking around, coming in and out of offices. “Pity case,” Andy starts softly, with a smile, “Isn’t exactly Pete’s job title.”
Patrick stops and looks at the heavily tattooed man with a curious but confused look, but follows them down the corridor, Joe takes a step head, stopping at the round frosted desk of what Patrick thinks to be the receptionist or the secretary. She tells Joe something, who nods, before joining back with Andy and Pete as they continued down the hall. And, to much of Patrick’s amazement, no one questions him or ask him why he’s there. It’s odd, but he doesn’t question it, at least not now.
They pass, what Patrick assumes is, offices and meeting rooms, people coming in and out, but not rushed or overly hurried. Everyone’s working, but…it’s relaxing, calm…Patrick can’t put his finger on it but it’s, in a way, surreal, yet it fits all into place.
They make their way to another little secluded lobby, sofas and comfy chairs outside a heavily frosted glass door, but before he could get a good look, Joe and Andy stop in front of him. “Listen…um, Pete,” started Joe, trying to find the words he needs. At the end, he just sighs. “…just give him a chance to explain, will you Patrick?” he says with a small but hesitant smile. “He really does care about you.”
Patrick looks between them, confusion written on his face as his attention turns to Andy now, who nods and gives him a reassuring smile before stepping away from Patrick’s view of the door.
He really doesn’t notice anything straight away, other than that there is light coming through the frost of the door, however as his eyes wonder around, trying to figure out what was so special or so cryptic, he stops. Something catches his eye as he stands in front of the lone frosted door, his eyes drawn to the plaque besides it with a name and title so carefully and intricately engraved onto the surface.
Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III
Chief Executive Officer, Label Executive, DCD2
Chief Executive Officer….CEO….
Patrick could only blink at the plaque for another moment before his brain created a single functional thought:
'What the actual fuck.'
.
To be continued...
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