Pete knocks on the door to Patrick's apartment softly. There's no answer, and that worries him more than anything.
The break up had been harsh. Pete hadn't meant to hurt Patrick so badly. The cheating wasn't supposed to be that bad. He had only wanted to make Patrick jealous just a little.
Pete failed in that.
The silence that greets Pete as he knocks a second time brings even more worry and he tries the doorknob, hoping against all hope that the door is unlocked.
Pete twists the knob carefully, takes a breath, then opens the door.
It runs into something, but it's not hard to tell what it is based on the sound it makes as it rolls against the door and ground. Pete braces himself for what he might find.
It's worse than he imagined.
Bottles litter the ground. Pete can barely walk through the front room. Every single one is empty. There are some still intact, some broken.
There are stains on the wall and Pete can see the broken bottles Patrick must have thrown against the wall.
Pete continues on, listening carefully.
He hears it then, the vomiting.
Pete swallows harshly and follows the sound. He finds Patrick in the bathroom, hunched over a toilet.
He looks different. And not for the better.
He's lost weight, his hair's grown out. He hasn't shaved and he's got scratches everywhere (Pete hopes Patrick hadn't resorted back to that, but hope doesn't seem to be on his side lately).
"Patrick?" Patrick's shoulders tense up and he lifts his head, wiping his face and flushing the toilet. "Are you ok?" Patrick sits back and looks at Pete.
Pete nearly flinches back at the pain in his eyes.
Then, Patrick starts to laugh.
"Don't pretend," Patrick says, starting out soft, and Pete's confused. Pretend? "Don't pretend you're not happy to see me like this." He states, louder this time.
"Patrick why would I ever pretend that I-" Patrick shakes his head harshly and cuts him off.
"Why would you? Peter. Why wouldn't you? You're oh so good at pretending. Or did you forget?" Pete takes a step back.
"You pretended to love me for 2 years! Two fucking years!" Patrick yells and Pete's heart breaks.
"Didn't what? Didn't mean to? Bullshit. No one cheats on someone that long and says they didn't mean to. You're a filthy liar."
Patrick breathes out heavily, his chest heaving and his eyes falling shut.
"Let's play a game. Let's pretend you never came here and saw all of this. Let's pretend I never loved you in the first place. Let's pretend our game of house was just that. A game."
Patrick pauses and opens his eyes. "Oh wait, you already did that. Guess you win." A sickly sweet smile passes over Patrick's face and it makes Pete shiver.