Chapter Text
It's absurd and all.
Lingering around and between people who are completely in love with one another is quite amusing and infuriating. Joe doesn’t really see the problem with being the first to initiate the move in the relationship, or waiting until the time is right, or spending time with someone until you can make them fall in love with you— but it gets to a point.
He’s been eyeing these two girls for a while now. They have been seated in the restaurant, unknowingly dragging him along to the empty table on the opposite side of the place. He figures they are having a good time by how lively their conversation is, despite their food not having been served for almost 20 minutes, and how classy the restaurant looks. Joe could feel the dent in his non-existent wallet just by being here. The more he thinks about it, the more it feels like they are just trying to be polite to one another; it’s quite pitiful.
The same can be said for his situation, just a bit more dire. He has been following them for the past few days, studying every uttered word or movement. Waiting for the perfect moment. If the entire situation doesn’t make him sound like a stalking creep, then it should sound like he’s just a nosy ghost.
Well, he didn’t just wake up one day to become Mr. Matchmaker; one day after an accident he got himself into. But by some mysterious fate, a kiss from the Goddess of Love gave him a second chance at life. A life of affection and precision. Becoming a Cupid.
He expected to become an Olympic archer at his second shot at life; he got a gun instead. Supposed modern problems require modern solutions. Well, it’s much easier to learn and handle a gun than a bow, he shrugs.
It didn’t make any sense why he was chosen to become a Cupid; he never cared about other people’s relationships, and he still had his own personal problems to solve. The Goddess of Love took him out of pity, he thinks. He’ll just figure it out at present, but first, he has to finish this target. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
A couple more minutes passed. He had seen people come and go, and yet nothing was happening between the two. The restaurant is quite busy, though the table, a few tables across from them, isn’t occupied yet; it would be better if he moved closer, and so he thought. Through his journey of avoiding bumping into waitresses and people, he came to a new scene he hadn’t expected.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that I’m great at it— but I’m proud of how it turned out,” the girl shared while going through her bag to reveal her creation, a small crocheted stuffed penguin.
“And– Uhm– I’d like to give it to you,” the girl added, slightly stumbling through her words, while reaching out the stuffed animal to the other girl in front of her.
The other girl stared at it in awe. The small stuffed creature in front of her, even if its face looked crooked, still showed some charm. She took the stuffed animal to her arms and was almost brought to tears. The girl who gave the stuffed animal smiled at the sight, almost glued to what was happening in front of her.
“I hope you know I made it to look like you…” The girl murmured while fidgeting with her glasses. And when the other girl was just about to clarify what she heard—
—BANG! A shot through the heart.
The girl felt everything change at that moment. Emotions felt like waves crashing into her. Feelings caught her in a dream. It was everything, and everything all at once. All she could do was hide her blush with the stuffed animal and look away.
At a short distance, a trail of smoke can be seen coming from the barrel of a gun.
“Nice one.”
A sudden light voice compliments Joe, letting him out of his trance. He turned to see Andy beside him, gazing upon the two girls. It was quite a heartwarming sight, even if Joe and Andy were used to making people fall in love. Moments like these remind them of the vitality of connecting with others.
“I almost blew it; luckily, I managed to get it on time,” Joe shared, standing up while fixing his gun almost in a hurry.
“It usually doesn’t take you this long to finish a mission. Is something wrong?” Andy was really observant, and Joe hated that. But Andy’s right, he’s been feeling slightly off lately.
“Maybe, but I’ll bounce back soon.”
Andy looks at him with his eyebrows slightly scrunched up. “Are you sure? If you want, we could work together for our next mission.”
Joe couldn’t turn him down.
Both Andy and Joe traveled together to the board where mission files are put for Cupids to complete. When they arrived, some Cupids were crowding over the board, picking up files. To avoid the crowd, Joe leaned against a nearby pole and let Andy try to secure a mission. He tried to feed a couple of pigeons in the park and ended up watching people pass through the street while he waited. It’s a busy day for both Cupid and humans, he thought.
He turned around to face the street mirror attached to the pole. Surprisingly, he could see his own reflection despite being a ghost to the world around him. His hair is now a proper shade of white with a part of it in red highlights, his curls becoming more coily, his Cupid outfit resembles a military uniform, but in shades of blue and grey, and a pair of wings stretches out from his back. All he needs is a halo to look like a ghost; he wouldn’t consider himself an angel.
Joe stares at his reflection. It feels and looks weird; he's dead, but he feels alive except in the world around him. He has a full head of white hair that he could have earned as he grew older, maybe wiser. He turned to view the same scenery again.
Everything changed except for him.
After the hundredth person he saw and counted in the street— well, he lost count after ten people— Andy came back with a file in his hands. He opened the file and showed the contents to Joe.
“So we will be dealing with Mr. Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III— that’s one long ass name,” Joe cackled. They continued to skim through all the target’s personal information, until they turned to the next pages of the file, where all the important information can be found.
“It seems that this guy is our target,” Andy pointed, his finger on a picture at the bottom right of the page.
Joe recognizes the boy.
“Patrick…” he quietly mutters the name. He looks a lot older, a lot more mature in the picture; he didn’t know that years had passed in the short time he became a Cupid. Years have changed him, Patrick; he imagines that maybe he is leaving things in the past, maybe is working on something in the present, and maybe is looking forward to the future.
His mind scrambles at every single memory he has of Patrick, the moment he first met the boy at Borders, their short practice sessions trying to play songs they like, and those moments where they just sat down together and enjoyed each other’s company. Until one memory struck him.
It was just their usual day together, sitting down in silence in the park. An earphone in each ear silences the cacophony of urban life around them.
“I hope we never drift apart,” Patrick abruptly said, while fiddling with his hands. Joe looks at him, surprised. Patrick looks back at him, quite startled.
“Oh. Don’t mind me, I just—”
“—I’d wish for it, too,” Joe interrupts.
There’s a silence between the two of them that he doesn’t have the word for. It’s not awkward, but it’s not quite pleasant. Deafening, he thinks. He wished that he could have just let Patrick wander off to his mumbling instead of blurting out his feelings. It was a bad move, but he decided to play on.
“I don’t know, it’s just, I feel like you understand me more than I could understand myself, you know? Like, the world phases out whenever I am with you.” Joe could go on and on.
After revealing some deep cuts from his heart with too much conviction, much to his dismay. He could just see Patrick staring at him with a look of shock, a faint glow in his eyes and cheeks. He wasn’t great at mind games or with his feelings either way. The soft breeze hits their skin; it’s almost winter, he thinks.
He thought the same way when he could feel himself freezing, that it numbed his entire body after he got himself bloodied in an accident; it’s such a distant memory he couldn’t fully remember, but he can remember that same look in Patrick’s face and the faint glow in his eyes, maybe tears, and the cold breeze against him dwindling, slowly closing his eyes.
He wished he could have said something instead of leaving.
...
“Hello? Earth to Joe! Can you hear me?” Andy yells while continuously snapping his fingers in front of Joe.
“Huh?” Is all he could mutter in the moment.
“You were completely zoned out. What happened to you?”
Joe tried to regain his attention, but he couldn’t hold himself back from looking at the photo of Patrick in the file, which caught Andy’s attention.
“Was that whole thing about this guy? I think I have seen this guy somewhere too,” Andy assumes while pointing at the picture in the file. He could just curse at Andy’s intuitive ass.
“Nothing,” Joe replied, trying to avoid answering the current question.
Andy could only raise a brow. “If this affects you during the mission, you’ll have to tell me.”
“It won’t.”
——
In a secluded alleyway, white feathers scatter throughout the ground. Joe’s rounded wings disappeared, and his military uniform was now replaced with a simple button-up, a blazer, and jeans.
“You know the details, right?” Andy quizzes Joe while looking at the mark of Cupid's wings on the back of Joe’s blazer.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Joe brushes him off like a rebellious child trying to shush an overprotective parent’s advice.
He and Andy make their way to a gig bar in hopes of meeting Pete. Andy asked him about this choice of place, but it makes sense, to him at least. If Pete likes Patrick, he’s definitely a music type of guy. Luckily, Andy never asked about it again and just rolled with it. God bless him, Joe thinks.
Joe easily got in by the realistic fake ID Andy made and his Cupid charm— mostly by his charm, but he still appreciates Andy’s efforts. The gig bar was lively when they entered. Laughter, music, and alcohol hit all his senses; it’s slightly nostalgic. He makes his way through multiple people with multiple ‘excuse me’s to the bar stand. He wanders around it trying to find a familiar face.
He moves towards the bar, hoping that he’ll be able to talk to someone and ask whether a guy named Peter Wentz is here. He approaches the first guy he sees, a guy with medium-length hair; he could slightly see a side fringe swept through his face.
“Uhm, excuse me.”
The guy turned to look at him. This guy looks exactly like the one in the photo, he thought.
“That was lucky.” Joe hears Andy comment. Perfect time to use his charm. His eyes slowly turn pink with a hypnotic circular pattern around his pupil.
“Hey, what’s up, man! Never seen you around here. Are you new here? You look like someone who would be interested in music—” Pete put his arm around the person beside him and pats their shoulder, “—This guy’s band got a gig in a few hours; come watch it.”
Joe is quite amazed at how easy this Peter Wentz guy eases up to people.
“That would be great. Where will it be?”
“Just right there.” Pete points at the dimly lit stage in the distance.
“Oh, thanks, dude. See you around, I guess?” Joe replied with his eyes slowly turning back to a reddish hue.
“Oh yeah, totally, see you!”
Pete returned to his previous conversation with his friend, and Joe was left in the middle of the gig bar. He doesn’t like standing out like this, especially with his hair color. He makes his way to an empty spot at the bar counter, hoping to at least pass the time before Pete’s friends' band performs.
There is a part of him wishing he could see Patrick, but he tries to completely bury it out.
“Can a Cupid get drunk?” He could really use some drinks to drown his current sorrows.
“What are you trying to get yourself into?”
Joe could only laugh. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being known as ‘the alcoholic cupid’.”
“I would rather you drink in moderation than be a drunken mess in front of Pete and deal with it throughout the rest of the day.”
Andy is right. He really is his voice of reason. He knows he has appearances to make, but right now he could really use a drink. Joe orders a drink, a cider. While he takes a sip, he sees Andy lean his back against the counter, gazing in Pete’s direction.
“He kinda reminds me of you,” Andy says, while looking at the distance with a curious glint in his eyes. Joe thinks he’s seeing something that he, himself, doesn’t see.
Joe hums in response.
“What made you say that?” Joe added.
“I can’t explain it, but maybe the vibes I’m getting, I guess.”
Joe takes another sip of his drink. He contemplates it. A sudden loud noise got him out of it. It was a guy
“Yo! Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy our performance tonight!”
A clash of guitars and drums came together. It woven music he didn’t really have high hopes for, but he can dig it. He glances to the side at Andy, and he can see him bopping his head to the rhythm of the drums, focusing on the performance in front of him. They both like heavy music after all. As the show went on, cheers could be heard from some parts of the audience, while others were minding their own business, occupied with their conversations and drinks, and taking in the music as a form of white noise.
Time passes quickly when you’re having fun. The band takes their bows and says their thanks, then the stage lights quickly cut out. The chatter of people around becomes louder than before. Andy and Joe enjoyed the silence between them, taking in the ambience around them, until he saw a group of people approaching in his peripheral vision.
Joe turns to see Pete and his group of friends chilling in the bar until their eyes lock with each other.
“What's up, man!” He hears Pete call out to him. There are about four beside him, some he could recognize from the earlier performance, and a new person he has never seen before. Joe walks towards them with his drink in hand.
“These are my dudes, you may have seen some of them from earlier.”
Each of the band guys introduces themselves and gets along with Joe. Until a person in a newspaper boy hat behind Pete caught his attention, who wasn’t really engaging with the conversation.
“Who is that guy behind you?” Joe points out to Pete.
“Oh! This is Patrick, I met him here a long time ago, he’s an awesome guy, but he prefers to keep to himself most of the time,” Pete says while bringing Patrick forward to show himself in front of Joe.
Holy shit.
Patrick looks at him with a wide-eyed expression, which quickly turns into a melancholic smile.
“Hey. The name is Patrick, nice to meet you,” Patrick introduces himself while lifting his hand, similarly to how you would wave at someone.
“Oh, hey man,” Joe waves at him with the same melancholic smile Patrick gave him.
Pete and one of his friends quickly turned the conversation to a different topic. Joe tries to engage with the conversation, but his eyes wouldn’t stop looking back at Patrick. The conversation went on for hours. Pete is a good conversationalist; the same could be said for his friends, but he found himself having more fun with his exchanges with Patrick. Sometimes, he hears Andy say something along the lines of ‘I wish I could talk to them too’; he figures the topic of conversation is something hardcore-related.
His mind slowly drifted off from the conversation until everyone started bidding their goodbyes. Joe eventually said his goodbyes and left the venue, but he found himself standing in front of the gig bar doing nothing.
“You’ve been a human for quite a while. I hope you know this could fuck up your energy,” He hears Andy appearing beside him.
“I don’t know, man. It’s like something is missing.”
“Are you sure, it’s not because of that guy? What’s his name again?”
“Fuck off.”
“He’s right behind you.”
Joe turns around to see Patrick. Forget about appearances; he made himself look silly to his best friend (or crush).
“Who were you talking to?” Patrick asks with a slightly concerned and inquisitive expression.
“Sorry, just talking to myself.” Joe quickly tries to use his charm, but he couldn’t feel it working.
Patrick looks at Joe. “So why are you still here? Are you waiting for someone?”
Fumbling once is slightly bearable, but twice is a death sentence. His charm is not working, Joe is trying not to stutter the hell out of himself, and his mouth decides to have a mind of its own and blurts whatever it can say at that moment.
“Uhm, I don’t have a place to stay.”
He could see the mental image of Andy face-palming beside him. He wishes he could start digging his own grave, but he really doesn’t need to. Sweat is raining down on Joe’s face, and all he can do is bite his lip and lower his gaze.
Patrick looks up at the sky. “You can crash at my house for a night.”
Joe swiftly lifts his head and stares at him in disbelief, but he reluctantly accepts the invitation.
He hears Andy say something before disappearing. “Please don’t get attached.”