Dedication to LeaveNoWordsUnspoken for following this story! Her Patrick Stump fanfic is amazing, check it out!

“Needed some time so I could find a little strength to redefine what I’ve done, what I’ve become.”

That’s all I needed. Just some time.

Just some time for me to get back on my feet, to try and be my sibling’s mother that they only had for a year.

Just some time for me to find a little strength, and become the person that I’d always hope I would grow up to be.

“Miss Black, what a pleasure to see you!” I walked in and shook hands with Mr. Sparkson, the manager and the person who interviewed me yesterday.

“It’s a pleasure to work here.” He turned around and handed me two blue polo shirts and a two pairs of kakis.

“Here is your uniform, there’s a bathroom in the lounge where you can change. You can leave the second outfit and the one you’re wearing now in your cubby in the lounge as well.” I nodded and made my way to the lounge, which was at the back of the store.

As I changed in the bathroom, I couldn’t help but stare at the cuts and bruises lining my arms. Every single one was from my mother. I tried to count, but eventually gave up, there were too many. I mentally cursed myself for not bringing a long sleeve shirt to wear underneath my shirt. I was afraid Mr. Sparkson would see the bruises and not want me working there, as it might be painful to stock shelves, or customers would be appalled at the sight of them. I sighed and decided to just wear the short sleeves for just one day. I mean, none of the cuts were open, and the bruises had begun to fade. You really couldn’t see too many of them if you didn’t look for them.

After I set my belongings in my cubby (I felt kind of special. Like a certain space of the store was reserved for me, like I was a part of it. Even if it was just a square foot of space.), I made my way to the register, where Mr. Sparkson was waiting with another employee, who I assumed was new, like me.

 “Alright, so Miss Black, this is Aaron Markson. He will be working with you.” I shook Aaron’s hand. He was tall, like, really tall, at least over six feet. If you gave him a bit of facial hair and tattoos, he looked like a giant Pete.

“You two can just call me Skye.” I smiled.

Mr. Sparkson (by this point I was just groaning at his name. Seriously, Sparkson? What kind of name was that? It made me want to puke.) spent a good hour saying things he could have in 5 minutes. Basically we had to work the cash register. If a new shipment came in, one of us would unload it and stock shelves. It didn’t seem hard, seeing as they mostly just sold CD’s and records. If instruments came in, we would both have to unload them and put them in the storage room. If someone came in asking for an instrument, or came in for a lesson, we were to direct them to Mr. Sparkson or their teacher. See? I just said what we had to do in five sentences, more or less.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after “working” for a good thirty minutes, nobody had even entered the store. By “working” I mean playing around with the cash register so I looked busy.

“Nervous?” I heard a voice beside me. I jumped, startled. “Woah, sorry didn’t mean to scare you.” It was Aaron.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit jumpy at times.” I said, shyly. I wasn’t a people person. “And no, I’m just extremely bored.”

“Do you want to help me stock shelves? There’s a box of CDs over there.” He pointed to a massive brown box next to the door.

“But that’s not a new shipment, we only unload those. And isn’t one of us supposed to always be at the cash register?” I questioned.

“Ha! I knew you zoned out during his speech.” I felt my face get hot. Well, to be honest, he just repeated himself over and over again. “I know he repeated himself a lot, but he said we can unload anything. If it’s a lot, we can both do it. Besides, they’re no customers.” I felt my face get redder as I realized I thought out loud, again.

“Uh, sure.” I nearly tripped on my feet on my way to the box. “I’m sorry, I’m extremely clumsy and shy and just completely awkward.” I felt my face get redder, again. This is why I don’t go out in public.

“It’s okay, so am I. I have the worst hand eye coordination, yet I’m surprisingly good at guitar.” He said as he fumbled with opening the box, as if he were trying to prove his point.

“You play?” He nodded in response. “So do I. I’m better with a bass, though. I also sing a bit.” He looked up at my face, as if he were studying it for a bit, before his eyes went open.

“Hey! You’re that girl who plays in the subway station!” I bit my lip and nodded. “Holy shit, you’re really good. Like, really good. You’ll have to teach me sometime. And if you’re better with a bass, then dayum gurl!” He snapped his fingers and I laughed, picking up a stack of CDs.

“Yea, maybe sometime.” I went over to the rows of CDs and begian putting them away, when a customer walked in.

“Welcome to Apollo’s music shop, used CDs are buy one get one half off-“ I said, barely looking to see who it was, when they cut me off.

“Skye, it’s me.” I turned around and Patrick walked in.

“You know, it’s not polite to cut people off.” I said with a smirk. He was about to say something else, when I heard a squeal coming from Aaron. “You alright?”

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU’RE PATRICK STUMP!” He yelled, making my jump, and then put my hand to my mouth to stop myself from laughing.

“The one and only.” He smiled.

“SKYE, YOU KNOW PATRICK FUCKING STUMP AND DIDN’T TELL ME?” He screamed in my face.

“Dude, calm down, Mr. Sparkson is going to hear you and fire you.” He rolled his eyes. “And yes, I’ve been living with him and Pete until I can buy an apartment of my own. By the way, has anyone ever told you that you look like a giant Pete Wentz?”

“Oh my God, he does-“ Patrick began.

“YOU’RE LIVING WITH THEM?” He screamed, making the devil himself come out of his office.

“I heard yelling, is there a problem with a customer?” If looks could kill, we’d be dead by now.

“No sir, not at all. We’re just having a friendly debate.” I smiled, wishing he would just leave. He finally did, and I let out a sigh of relief.

“You don’t like him, do you?” Aaron asked.

“Oh my God when he talks, he just repeats himself over and over, and he talks so slow I just want to stab myself. And what kind of name is Sparkson? God, I want to puke whenever I hear his name.”

“You know, it’s not good to hate your boss.” Patrick interrupted.

“I don’t hate him, I just dislike him.” I said. “And no one asked you, Pattycakes.”

Aaron’s eyes went wide. “Pattycakes? Isn’t that what they call you in fanfics?”

I burst out laughing. “You read fanfics?” I said between laughs. His face went red.

“No, uh, I mean, that’s just what they say on tumblr-“

“Oh save it, Markson. We know you’re a fanboy at heart. You squealed when Patrick walked in here. Now you’ve probably scared the poor child.” I hugged Patrick protectively, knocking his hat off in the process. I took this as the opportunity to mess with his hair.

“Not the hair!” He screamed.

“Okay, so you just met a huge fan of yours, who even reads fanfiction, and you hardly acknowledge him? You just care about your hair? Damn Stumpy, you are conceited!” I teased.

“Oh, shut up. If you read some of that stuff, you would be scarred for life.” He complained as he managed to escape my grasp.

“You just say that because you don’t want anyone thinking that you like it.” He looked disgusted. “I mean, seeing how Peterick is completely real-“

“PETERICK IS REAL AND YOU DIND’T TELL ME THIS EITHER?” Aaron screamed once again.

“Oh no, he’s a Peterick shipper too.” Patrick bent over to pick up his hat that I knocked on the floor.

“Just don’t drop your hat like that when Pete is around.” I said with a wink, making him glare at me. “Oh come on, you two would be cute together!”

*Patrick’s POV*

“PETERICK IS REAL AND YOU DIND’T TELL ME THIS EITHER?” Aaron screamed, and I swear my face was as red as my cardigan right now.

“Oh no, he’s a Peterick shipper too.” I groaned as I bent over to pick up his hat that I knocked on the floor.

“Just don’t drop your hat like that when Pete is around.” Skye winked, causing me to shoot her a glare. “Oh come on, you two would be cute together!”

I know who I’d be cuter with. I thought as I straightened my hat on my head.

Wait, what?

GUYS I AM AARON AND AARON IS ME

So apparently last night in Tampa, Patrick goes “I can’t get my words out because it’s so hot.”

And then Pete goes “I’m sorry, did you say you can’t get your words out because I’m too hot? Because I was gonna say the same thing about you.”

And Patrick does his upset “I’m not cute” face and shakes his finger at Pete and I was dead. There’s a video of it on my tumblr.

Anyway, what do you guys think of Aaron? What do you think of this story? Please let me know, I appreciate feedback!

(I should probably start crediting the songs I use. Song: Five Becomes Four – Yellowcard)