Ship: Patrick/Joe
Words: 531

(A/N: Based off of this nice guy who looked like Joe Trohman in a Mongolian restaurant. He was really sweet...)

I guess it was the way I was acting. Or maybe it was the way I kept my head down and my eyes straight. I didn't dare look up at him. I didn't dare look up at anybody because I knew what was going to happen that night and I was ashamed of it but excited.

He was kind of gazing at me the whole time, eyeing me with those vibrant, blue eyes. I don't know but there was just something about him that drew me in and I wanted to talk to him. I wanted.. No I needed a sign... I was begging for someone to stop me. I was begging for the world to keep me alive but I was numb. It was hopeless. I was a failure and I just wanted it to end.

Do you know how hard it was for me to get out of bed? Do you know how hard it was to do anything without asking, "What's the point?"? Do you know how much it hurt? I wanted it to end but at the same time I was scared of it ending. I was scared of the infinite darkness.

But every time I even thought about it, his blue eyes snapped me out of it. I was sitting at a table alone in the local café and I was feeling a little lonely, staying there with nobody else but he was across the shop.

I don't know how long I was sitting there, sipping on tea, but next thing I knew, he was walking across the shop right toward me. I'm not going to lie, I was a little scared. Why was he coming over here? What's so interesting about me? I'm just a suicidal fuckup.

"Can I sit here?" He asked.

I nodded, still avoiding his gaze as he sat in the chair across from me.

"You look down, why's that?" He asked.

I finally looked into his eyes, biting my lip out of nervousness.

I shrugged looking down, it was rude but I didn't want to talk...

"Come on, I know something's wrong. Something been bothering you?"

I looked back up before finally replying, "Depression, anxiety, the usual kind of shit."

He chuckled slightly, "You're not alone in that. But listen," he pauses, I'm still looking into his eyes, "Life's too short to be sad. You get one shot and you can't waste it."

My breathing hitched in surprise as his words hit me, sending me crashing into reality because what he said was true.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Joe, you?"

"Patrick."

"Do you know anything about music?"

"Yeah, drums."

"I've been meaning to start a band with my friend, Pete. Would you be willing to join?"

I just sat, shocked, was he seriously inviting me to join a band?

"S-sure..."

"Meet me here, tomorrow at one." He smiled before standing up and leaving through the front door and I just kept sitting there.

Maybe I wouldn't die that night.