Pete thinks in metaphors, so it’s ironic that the first time he falls for Patrick, it’s literal: He literally falls down the steps into Patrick’s basement. He falls into Patrick, a couple of steps below, who says, “Ow, what the fuck,” and manages to keep his balance.

“Sorry, sorry,” Pete says, “I tripped.”

Patrick just looks so exceedingly ( Read more... )

Pete shows up with yarn.

Patrick says, “What the fuck are you going to do with that?”

“I took up knitting during the pandemic,” Pete says.

And he did. He knits backstage through every concert. He finishes a profusion of scarves that he hands out to everyone: Joe, Andy, Brian, all the other bands, all the other techs.

Finally, Patrick is ( Read more... )

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Requested by anonymous.

“What if at the end, it’s snowing?” said Pete.

“Why would it be snowing?” asked Patrick.

“Why not?” rejoined Pete.

“I love that this is your step too far,” said Joe. “Like, we’ve got Elton John as God but we can’t have snow?”

“It’s just that it’s summertime in the rest of the videos!” Patrick protested.

“We never ( Read more... )

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Pete finds it shoved in the back of a kitchen cabinet.

“Look what I found!” he sing-songs to Patrick, carrying mugs into him.

“What’s that?” Patrick asks miserably, sniffling.

“You said if you drank any more tea you would puke, so I made you hot chocolate!”

“Where did you get hot chocolate?” Patrick asks suspiciously, and then sneezes.

“ ( Read more... )

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The thing about a mind palace was that it should have held everything securely. Every moment from Oliver’s childhood should have been perfectly stored there, on well-ordered shelves in well-laid-out rooms. And they were, they were all there. The problem was that the mind palace wasn’t perfect. It could store all the facts, but ( Read more... )

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