[A/N: You thought the last chapter was mean and messed up? I'm just going to take this opportunity to sincerely apologise. I swear to god this thing is actually going somewhere.]

Dear Fatrick,

Today is April 1st.

Today I pulled the best prank I've ever pulled on anyone.

Today I cut your heart out of your chest and made you eat it.

I wasn't going to do any tricks this year. I thought, why bother? Last year's was so good, why try to top it? But I did. I fucking did.

You're in love with me. I've known that for a while. But you've never ever even come close to admitting it. Until today.

I was determined to get it out of you. I was set upon forcing you to spit out those words, because then you'd know what I'd been through. There's not many things that hurt more than telling someone you love them and not hearing it back. I wanted you to experience that first-hand.

So I thought about it. For ages, I just sat on my couch and thought about how the hell I could get you to say it. Of course, I could just ask you, but I wanted to make it painful. It had to be planned, I wanted to savour the look on your face as your world went up in flames. And in order to do that, I first had to convince you that I loved you, too. That was the only way you'd say it.

After a lot of discarded ideas, I settled on one which was probably the simplest, but also the most fun. For me, anyway.

But I needed to wait. It had to be done at just the right time, and in the right way. So I waited a couple months, 'till after the album dropped, because then you wouldn't be practically living in the studio any more. You'd used the music to block everything else out, but now, the music was done. You had nothing to hide behind, no excuses about working on the record or whatever.

Then, March came to a close, and I thought, what better date to do this than April Fools'? It was a prank, after all. And it was so perfect.

-

Unlike the last prank, I didn't need any special effects, no fake blood. This time, if there was gonna be blood, it was gonna be real.

So I just rocked up to your flat, late afternoon, so I knew you'd be awake, and knocked on the door. I used the few seconds before you opened it to try to get into character, curling my hands into fists and rubbing my eyes hard so they looked at least a bit red. It didn't have to be an Oscar-winning performance, because you'd probably believe anything I said. And you did.

I heard some shuffling around, then a loud bang and a groan. I tried not to laugh, biting on my lip in an attempt to regain my composure. The erratic footsteps got louder, until finally, the door opened, and you peeked out. You'd obviously only just got up; you were dressed but your hair was a mess and your glasses lopsided. You'd missed a button on your shirt and the cuffs were undone; hell, there were still pillow creases in your face. It took all the will in the world not to grin at you.

Your eyes widened at the sight of me. I hadn't been to your place in a very long time, had hardly spoken to you for two months, and now I was on your doorstep. I could see all the questions spinning through your mind, but you looked at my red eyes and my hunched shoulders and you knew something was wrong.

"What happened?" You asked gently, opening the door fully.

Wow. I was kinda expecting you to shout at me. You were at perfect liberty to; I'd spent the last year making your life a living hell. But all seemed forgotten as you beckoned me inside, placing a hand lightly on my shoulder. I felt a little tingle buzz across my skin, and told myself it was just because I was excited for the prank.

I stared at the floor as you guided me into your lounge, occasionally throwing you the odd sad glance, just for drama. You perched yourself on the arm of the sofa, looking at me with curious eyes as I went over what I was going to say.

Once I had figured out the best word order, where I was going to stutter, when to look up at you and when to stare at my shoes, I spoke, slowly and carefully.

"I...uh...br...broke up with Mikey."

There was a small silence as both of us wondered what was going to happen next.

"I'm so sorry, Pete." You said after a while, and hell, it sounded pretty genuine.

I just nodded and shuffled my feet about, to look all forlorn and broken and all that shit.

"Can I ask...why?" Your voice was so soft, I nearly forgot what I was gonna say next.

I sighed, for effect. "Well, I...I realised that maybe I want to be with someone else." I gave you a small glance, to let you know what I was getting at.

You chewed on your lip, as if you were wondering who it was. But you weren't fooling anyone, I saw the way your eyes lit up when I looked at you, the way you sat up a little straighter and lifted your head a little higher. I bit back a smirk.

"Patrick, I think...I think letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made."

You froze. Then, as you processed my words, your eyebrows shot up and a smile spread across your face, huge and bright and real. I allowed my mouth to be pulled into a small, bashful grin. "Do you really mean that?" You breathed, blinking at me with wide eyes.

I nodded, and took a step towards you. You took that as the all-clear, leapt off the couch and ran at me, jumping into my arms and squeezing me so tight I thought I'd collapse. You buried your face in the crook of my neck, your hair tickling my cheek. I couldn't help but smile into your shoulder as I heard your joyful giggles. I'd expected more questions. Why have you treated me like shit for a year? Why are you only telling me this now? But you just lapped up my lies like an overly-loyal dog. You're so stupid.

I lowered you back onto the floor, trying to keep my smile fresh, as you beamed at me, unwinding your hands from my neck and wrapping them around my waist instead, sighing into the hug like it was the first breath you'd taken in months.

I let you squeeze me tight for a while, stroking your hair and rubbing circles in your back, because that's what you're supposed to do.

Slowly, you stirred in my arms, and untangled yourself from them, keeping hold of my hands and grinning at me, before carefully pushing yourself up on your toes to kiss me. But I moved my head just in time. I figured kissing you would be cheating on Mikey. Kissing you on the lips, anyway.

I decided it was time for the fun part of the plan.

Moving my hands down to your waist, I kissed along your jaw, biting at a spot just below your ear that made you gasp. I sucked more marks into your skin as I trailed my lips down your neck, wanting to leave as many reminders of me as I could. Your grip on my arm tightened with each graze of my teeth.

Taking a step closer to you so that we were chest to chest, I pressed my thigh lightly between your legs, and felt you tense up. Pressing a little harder, I earned a small moan, and you tilted your head back to allow me to bruise more of your skin.

Then I pulled away. You tried to kiss my lips again, but I dodged. That's all you were getting from me. Now it's my turn.

I forced a loving look into my eyes and gazed at your face, bringing my hand up to trace circles on your cheek. You smiled wider, and I swear you were probably about to cry from pure happiness. Well, give me ten minutes, I'll give you something real to cry about.

Moving my hand from your face and placing it on your shoulder, I raised a sly eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at my lips. Shrugging off any illusion of delicacy, I shoved you to your knees. You yelped, looking up at me in confusion before I showed you exactly what I was going to make you do.

I undid my belt, watching as realisation crept into your face. You smiled up at me again, but you were nervous, I could tell. I can always tell. Your eyes darted from my smirk to my crotch as I lowered my pants, raising my eyebrows at you expectantly.

You chewed on your lip, before reaching out and fumbling with the waistband of my boxers, not sure what to do with your fingers. I huffed at how hopeless you were, rolling my eyes and yanking my boxers down. Do I have to do everything myself?

With one hand, I grabbed the back of your head, and with the other, I shoved myself down your throat.

You felt so fucking good around me, despite the fact that your tongue was all over the place and you obviously had no goddamn idea what you were doing. I did all the work for you, moving your head back and forth at a steady pace.

I moaned softly, thinking about how much better you looked with my dick in your mouth, and picked up speed, thrusting my hips forward and making you gag. My grip on your hair tightened and you let out a muffled whimper, either out of pleasure or pain. I didn't care which. I didn't care if I ripped out your vocal chords as long as I got my orgasm.

I could feel it getting nearer; I fucked your mouth harder, your face flushed red and your eyes screwed tightly shut. It was better like this, with you on your knees, moaning in time with my thrusts, and I felt the heat pool in the pit of my stomach. With a shout, it hit me, and I felt your throat tighten as you swallowed.

Finally, I pulled you off of me, grinning from my high and panting with pleasure. I untangled my hand from your hair and your head dropped, gasping for air with quick and shallow breaths.

Still smiling like, well, a guy who's just gotten a blowjob, I pulled up my boxers and pants and stared down at you, head still bowed. I had so much power over you. You were nothing but a pathetic slave. But I couldn't tell you that just yet. I needed to keep up the lovey-dovey façade for just a little bit longer.

"Patrick," I breathed, "That was amazing."

You looked up, and seeing the smile on my face, beamed at me. You really were like a dog; as soon as you saw how pleased your master was, your eyes lit up and your cheeks went round as apples. I half expected you to roll over and wag your tail.

But then, your expression faded a bit. You frowned, your brows gathering as if you'd just realised something serious and important. Biting your lip, you looked up at me with those big eyes, and spoke slowly and carefully.

"Pete...I think...no, I know...I should have told you this ages ago, but..." You trailed off. Urgh, fucking speak already.

"I love you." You whispered.

There they were. The words I'd have given anything to hear, the words I'd dreamed of for years.

I was quite surprised you'd said it so soon; I thought I'd have to do a lot more acting before you admitted it. My work here was now done. I'd got what I came for. The words rolled from your lips like honey from a spoon.

But I didn't care any more. I ignored the little flip my heart did when you gazed at me, every inch of your faced soaked in pure, unrelenting adoration. I felt hatred, nothing else. You mean nothing to me.

You started to get up, but I placed a firm hand on your shoulder. Don't act as if we're equals. You were born to be beneath me.

Not breaking eye contact, I leant down towards you, my face hovering just above yours. I reached out a hand and brushed my thumb across your cheek, hearing you hum contentedly as I cupped your face. You tilted your lips in an attempt to meet mine, your eyes fluttering shut as I moved closer. But I sure as hell wasn't going to kiss you.

I moved my lips past your cheek and settled them next to your ear, suddenly dropping my hand from your face but tightening my grip on your shoulder. I spoke quietly, gently, but my words were laced with poison.

"April Fools'."

I pulled back quickly to watch your reaction.

Your eyes flew open, filling with anxious confusion. At first, a smile touched your lips, because you didn't quite understand the situation. But you soon would.

"What?" You said stupidly, searching my face for answers. And you certainly found them.

My smile was cold enough to kill all the sparks in your eyes.

I watched you struggle for a few more moments, before deciding to put you out of your misery. Or plunge you into it.

"Patrick, oh, Patrick." I sighed, staring down at you with dramatic disappointment. "Did you really think I'd ever want to get back together with you?"

Your eyes widened. The part of you that thought this was a joke was slowly dying.

"I didn't break up with Mikey. I've never regretted letting you go. It was a trick. Just an April Fools'."

You opened your mouth to say something but no words came out. The light in your eyes was nothing but ash now. "I...but...no...I don't..." You stammered. I really hate it when you do that.

Looking down at you, how utterly pathetic you were, your stupid big eyes and your quivering lips, I was reminded of every fucking thing you'd done to me. You'd made me cry so many times, made me want to scream and run and die all at the same time. And yet here you were, on your knees, begging for me to make it better. To say hey, don't worry, I'm only kidding, I love you really. Well guess what, I don't love you, and I've been wanting to hurt you like this for too fucking long.

Originally, I'd planned to hurt you with words alone. But words didn't really seem enough anymore. My fists shook by my sides as my stare bored into your eyes, wishing I could burn holes right through them.

Barely thinking about what I was doing, I flashed a small grin, before lifting my foot and kicking you hard in the stomach.

You let out a scream of pain, crumpling at my feet like a paper bag. Still smiling, I gazed at your face, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut, your hands clutching at your belly.

I waited patiently for you to stop whimpering on the floor, refusing to open your eyes and face me. Until my patience disappeared.

"Listen to me you little shit!" I shouted.

You raised your head, finally opening your teary eyes.

"You mean nothing to me!" I said it to myself as well as to you. "I love you, Pete, I love you!" I mocked, imitating your stupid whiney voice. "I knew you did. I just wanted to get you to admit it."

You bit your quivering lip, and I could see you were trying your utmost not to cry. But I was going to make sure you failed.

I had one last little show for you. I took my phone from my pocket and punched in the number, a malicious smile on my face. Staring into your wide eyes I put the phone to my ear, listening until a familiar voice buzzed down the line.

"Hey, Pete?"

"Hello, Mikey." I said, my tongue flicking across my lips.

"What's up?"

"Where are you right now?"

"Uh, the studio..." He said, confused.

"How quickly can you get to my house?"

"Um, like...an hour, maybe?"

I spoke loudly, just to torture you to your limit. "An hour? Okay, that's perfect, baby."

"What are you planning?" He laughed.

"Just get home, baby, I need your body, I need your fucking perfect ass and your gorgeous hips. I'm gonna fuck you so hard when I see you."

"Fucking hell, Pete, are you drunk?"

"No, baby, I just want you so bad. You're better than anyone else, everyone else." I shot you a smirk, savouring every ripple of pain that flitted through your eyes.

"Okay, I'll get home." Excitement rose in his voice.

I was about to hang up, when I thought I'd put one more little knife in your chest. I spoke slowly, as if every word was worth savouring. "I love you."

Mikey giggled. "I love you too!" He said, but I'd hung up before he finished. I needed to get a look at your face.

You hadn't moved from the floor, still on your knees, one hand propping you up, the other clasped over your stomach.

You looked utterly heartbroken. Just like I'd planned. Your eyes were so full of tears that one small movement would send them streaming down your face. But you just stared at me.

I sighed. My work here was done, I'd torn your dignity to pieces and your heart too.

"Okay, I'd better be off now. I have a boyfriend to fuck." I grinned. "Thanks for the blowjob. Although, I've had better. That's turning into a bit of a catchphrase amongst your lovers, isn't it Patrick?" I cocked my head to one side, looking at the crumpled mess of a boy in front of me with fake pity in my eyes.

I headed towards the door, before remembering something I'd planned to say.

"Oh, and by the way, if you even think about blabbing to anyone about this with that dirty little mouth of yours, Joe, Andy, your family, a random guy on the street, anyone..." I paused, smiling right at you. "I'll tell the paparazzi how much weight you've gained."

You looked at me like I'd just put a bullet through your heart.

That was when you lost the little composure you'd managed to cling onto.

Your bottom lip trembled and finally, the tears fell, streaking your face with silvery trails. I'd won.

I decided it was time to leave. Yanking the door open, I stole one more glance at your shaking form before I slammed it behind me and punched the air. I couldn't believe how well that had gone. Hands down, best prank ever.

Laughing like a maniac, I made off down the stairs. But before I did, I had to hear the aftermath, pressing my ear to your door. And sure enough, from your lounge came the sound of someone sobbing their lungs out, harsh chokes interspersed with gasps for air and dotted with weak whimpers. I smiled. I'd broken you.

-

Mikey's going to laugh so hard when he hears about this. Your face, oh my god, it was the funniest thing I've seen in a very long while. I'm waiting for him to get home, I've got the lube and the handcuffs all ready.

I'm on top of the fucking world, because now you know. Now you know what I went through when you rejected me time and time again, now you know how it feels to be completely worthless. How it feels to love someone who doesn't love you back.

Happy April Fools'. 

I hope you cry yourself to death.

From Pete.