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A story by savesoulpunk posted on commaful. see the rest: https://archiveofourown.o...


Patrick P.O.V.

"Saturdayyyy!" I belted the last note to our encore. Man, the crowd was amazing tonight. They're singing every word along with me. That's one of the best feelings in the world.

"Thank you, guys! You were fucking awesome! Good night!" Pete said into his mic.

I waved at the crowd one more time, then walked off stage. I put my guitar in its case and turned around to see Joe standing behind me, startling me. I jumped and he laughed.

"Fuck you, Trohman," I giggled, throwing my fedora at him.

He threw the hat back. "I don't want your sweaty hat, Stump," he laughed back.

I laughed again and started walking to the bus. I passed some fans on the way and took a few pictures and sighed a couple autographs. I still don't understand why they want my signature.

I'm just like them. I've just accepted it now.

I opened the door to the bus and stepped in. Andy was already on the couch, watching some 80's horror flick.

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