Pete
April 6th
"Gerard and the rest of the gang are here—I'm going to go get them," Patrick looks up from his phone, "Dallon...you wanna come with?"
"Sure," Dallon says.
This conversation catches my attention. I look over at the two of them, both walking out side by side. It's quite comedic honestly considering Patrick is exactly a foot shorter than Dallon. But, pushing that thought aside, I'm wonder if these two have some sort of relationship outside of my knowledge.
If they did it would piss me off a bit. They're on two different sides—it's not allowed. Before I get too heated, I walk over to Brendon and Travie. They're setting up the tables, Brendon just pushing in the last few chairs.
"You and Patrick get heads of the table, and Soul Punks and Young Bloods each take a side?" Travie asks me.
I nod in agreement, sounds about right.
We all sit down around the table. I sit in a chair, Travie in the table with his legs dangling down next me, and Brendon is straight up laying on the table on his back with his head hanging off it.
"You know," Brendon shifts to lay on his stomach, "I'm think Dallon and Patrick talk."
And I know he's referencing how the two just do easily walked out as friends to get the Soul Punk kids.
"Eh," Travie says bored, "I don't think Dallon's enough of a retard to hang around that dumbass."
I cringe at his words, Brendon looking irritated. Normally he'd agree with Travie, but I guess today's different.
"Dallon isn't retarded at all, Travie."
I raise an eyebrow at Brendon's defensive words.
Travie snorts, "mhm...I'm just saying, man."
Brendon rolls his eyes. Wow, okay.
I hear the church doors open and six bodies enter through the front of the church.
Patrick is leading the group, Dallon standing next to him. They gladly and happily stride over, shivering. Behind then is Hayley Williams and Bob Bryar, both looking a bit pissed off. Arms crossed, and red faced. And in the back is Gerard and Frank. There hands held together, faces red. Gerard looks cautious and Frank looks frightened. That's also new—he normal admits angry or goofy vibes.
Everyone is snow-covered and shaking/shivering, especially Patrick. Poor baby forgot a coat, he's only wearing a t-shirt. I'll give him my sweatshir-
Wait what?
Holy shit, what am I thinking? He's an asshole, and he deserves to be cold. Shithead.
"The snow's r-really getting h-heavy." Patrick stammers, body shaking.
I frown, standing up, "everyone can grab a blanket and pillow, or something. Then sit at the table..."
I direct everyone where to sit.
"Wow, this place is sick." Frank breathes out.
Gerard smiles warmly at him, adoring the beam in Frank's face. It's kinda adorable.
Hayley throws a pillow at the two, "for Frank to sit on—so he can see over the table."
I open my mouth in awe, laughing hard. Everyone seems to chuckle for a moment, before Frank groans and throws the pillow back at Hayley.
"You suck." He says.
Everyone take a seat. On the SP side, next to Patrick as head of the table is Gerard, then Frank, then Hayley, then Bob—who is next to me as head of the table. For YB's next to Patrick is Dallon, then Brendon, then next to be is Travie.
