Breathe Me Back To Life •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Sixty One: You Know That I Could Use Somebody

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

Whoa.

When I say this, I mean it; Canada's Wonderland is a breathtaking attraction. Maybe not so much to Canadians, but damn.

I put my hands on my hips, the sleeves to my sleeved Fall Out Boy vest pushed up to just below my elbow. No matter how hot the weather is in Vaughan, it's still pretty breezy because of all the roller coasters we've been on. I squint my dark eyes, my lashes coming together to block the sun rays beating down on us, and stare in awe at the beauty dubbed as WindSeeker. WindSeeker is technically more of a ride rather than a roller coaster, but it is still located in the Action Zone of the park(the absolutely crazy roller coasters) and is classified as a thrill ride.

"Towering high above the Park, WindSeeker ascends 301 feet and spreads its metal arms, swinging riders at a 45-degree angle at speeds up to 50 kilometers per hour." Patrick reads dramatically to me, glancing hesitantly up at the high as fuck ride. "WindSeeker features 32 two-person swings that provides riders with a gravity-defying thrill as their feet dangle at heights never experienced before at Wonderland."

"Holy shit, thats big." I say, putting a hand over my forehead, sucking in a large breath of air. Hands land on my shoulders almost immediately, and I'm bracing myself for the inevitable.

"That's what she said." Jack Barakat whispers rather loudly in my ear. I jump and twist around, swatting Jack in the stomach lightly. Jack doubles over in laughter, the Lebanese boy squinting as he practically howls before bouncing off to Alex Gaskarth to tell him about the latest dick joke he's made. I sigh dramatically and turn around, looking at Patrick like we're parents taking care of immature kids.

Oh my God, imagine Patrick and I being parents-

Shut up, brain. That's crazy.

"I'll sit next to you," Patrick tells me, reaching his hand out to find my own. "It shouldn't be too scary. I mean, remember how scared you were on the Behemoth?" His fingers curl around my own hand, swinging our arms slightly between us as the line finally moves up. It's true; when we were lining up for the Behemoth, I was so anxious that I almost started to perspire.

Our group piles into the ride area, and Patrick and I stumble over to the first pair seats we can find. I slip into my seat, taking note that it's a bright red, and look up to the very top of the ride. My heart kind of lodges into my throat as the number 301 feet races through my mind. What if my lock malfunctions and I fall out of my seat? Falling, falling, falling, three hundred feet to pavement. People would scream and cry and I'd pray for wings but-

Holy shit, fu ck f uck f u ck.

I'm so sorry.

"Hey, hey, we don't have to ride this if you don't want to." Patrick says in a soft and hushed voice when he comes back from putting our bags away in the locker-like cubbies, and if I could, I'd curl up into the fetal position and cry because of all the negative scenarios that are floating around my infected mind. His hands cup my face in his, and before I can say anything, he presses his lips to my own lightly. Something catches in my throat. "We can leave right now."

"No, no, it's okay." I gulp down, shaking my head. I couldn't do that to Patrick- make him sit outside and calm me down. Pete stops by my seat, about to take his seat directly behind me before he sees the dull look in my eyes and the way my bottom lip is quivering. When he sees me with Patrick though, he nods and presses a kiss to my forehead, ruffling my bangs before hurrying to his seat. I can't help but remember that when ever I'd panic, Pete would take it upon himself like a second nature to make sure that I'm okay, but recently, Patrick has taken over, and something tells me that Pete is alright with that.