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I Liked You Better On YouTube

8 || You're Too Prissy For Brooklyn?

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Patrick Neili
Subscribers - Five million, one hundred thousand, and ninety nine.

...

"You're not even going to explain yourself?" I yelled over the loud music, gawking at the sight before me.

Patrick stayed silent, probably for the first time since I'd met him, before he decidedly plopped down on the brand new couch he'd pushed into my apartment.

I take that back: I was certain someone else put the couch in here.

I rolled my eyes before stomping over to the large sound system now sitting in the corner of my apartment. Patrick was so conceited that he was actually playing his own music loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

"Patrick," I hissed as I shut off the music. "You can't just come in here and change everything about this apartment. Especially not because you don't find it up to your standards."

"Sure I can," he nodded to himself. He patted the space next to him, silently asking me over. "Don't you like it?"

"Not in the least bit," I sighed.

Within the last hour, Patrick Neili had somehow broke into my apartment and changed just about everything about it; from the wall color to the furniture, this place was unrecognizable.

I've never hated him more.

"Oh come on, Nat," Patrick continued whining with a winning smile. "You've got to like the new stuff. I was just treating my girlfriend-"

"Like what?" I laughed. "Like you own her? What's next? Are you going to give me a makeover so I can look like every other girl you've dated?"

Patrick looked almost like he was considering the idea. "Well..."

"Get out," I ordered, pointing him towards the door. "I don't care what Rich has to say about this. I do not want to see you for the rest of the day."

Apparently, Rich had added a 'date night' clause to the contract. But today, I wasn't falling for it. We'd only just gotten back from Texas last night, and now Patrick felt as if he could control every aspect of my life.

Not today Satan.

"Fine, bossy." Patrick mumbled to himself as he pushed up off the couch. He took the few small strides needed to get over to me, the man pulling me into an awkward hug there after. "I'll miss you."

"Bite me."

"With pleasure," Patrick drawled huskily against my ear. I shivered with his proximity, gaining a quiet chuckle from him before he made his way to the door.

"I hope the door hits you on the ass." I called over my shoulder, droning out whatever bullshit response he threw back at me as I walked back to my room.

-

"Please tell me there was a cheesy heart-shaped bed or something," Hanna laughed as we strolled along the street below her apartment. "If there wasn't, I don't know how much respect I've got left for him."

"If there was I would have killed him with that new kitchen set he left for me," I groaned.

Taking a deep breath as Hanna and I sat down on a little bench near the street corner, I took in all that New York nights like this had to offer. Even in the worst parts of Brooklyn, I couldn't thank myself enough for packing a bag that day in college and moving here with Hanna by my side.

It was a shame we didn't live together anymore.

"Why is it so bad that he bought you some new stuff?" Hanna asked, leaning back against the bench. She hugged her winter coat tighter, trying to make up for the lack of heat her pajamas gave her. I'd warned her before she came downstairs, but she didn't listen.

I shrugged, "he broke in."

"I know."

"And he painted all the walls within the first twenty minutes that I was gone," I iterated once more.

"Doesn't seem plausible, but I'll go with it for the sake of argument."

I sat there, staring out at the one street lamp on the sidewalk across from us. "He got rid of my couch."

"And that's the biggest problem you have?" Hanna giggled. "That thing was falling apart faster than my love life."

I let my gaze fall down to my feet as I shuffled them against the melting snow. It was rather sludge-like for snow, but it was something.

"Nick bought it for me," I whispered, my fingers fumbling together as I spoke.

Hanna sat up straight away, pulling me into a hug as quickly as she could. "Nat-"

"I know," I mumbled. "I just miss him."

"You think I don't?" Hanna scoffed. "I'm probably still in love with him."

"He's my brother, Han," I chided.

"But he's your hot brother. He's your hot military brother. What's sexier than that?"

"Literally anything else."

Hanna nodded before resting her head on my shoulder, my best friend hugging me tight as we both shivered against the cool breeze. I could almost feel myself calming down before my phone rang obnoxiously, interrupting our nice moment.

Hanna released me from her hold, watching when I picked up my phone. "Why is Rich calling you at this hour?"

I shook my head, answering without giving it a second thought.

"What's going on, Rich?" I huffed out a short breath.

"Natalie, I can't find Patrick." I could hear the concern in his voice as he spoke.

"Sounds like you won the lottery," I joked.

"I'm serious, Natalie. When was the last time you saw him?"

I sighed, "this morning. He came in and-"

"Redid your apartment, I know. Have you heard from him since then?"

"No," I frowned. "What's the problem? Doesn't he have the right not to answer his phone?"

"Not when I'm getting texts from people telling me he's gone a-wall at some club in Brooklyn." Rich hushed. "He'll lose all his sponsors if he doesn't quit before the media gets ahold of this."

"Where in Brooklyn?" I asked, standing up from the bench.

"If I knew, Natalie, I'd be down there myself."

"So you're asking me to find him when you don't know where he is, just because you're too prissy to come all the way down to Brooklyn?"

"That's exactly what I'm asking you, yes."

"Fuck you, Rich," I said before hanging up the phone.

I could hear Hanna laughing as her own phone rang right after I hung up, though I didn't even have to look to know it was Rich on the other end of her line.

"What's the shittiest club in Brooklyn that's within walking distance from my place?" I asked, turning to look back down at Hanna.

"That depends," she frowned in concentration.

"Some place that Patrick would get recognized."

"Oh!" Hanna gasped as she shot up from the bench. "Some place called B66? It's either that or-"

"I'll start there," I cut her off. Hugging her quickly, I started making my way back down the street. "I'll text you if he's not there."

"I'll stalk his Twitter for you!" Hanna called after me.

Strangely enough, I should have expected something like this from Patrick Neili. Who knew a guy would go on a bender just because you didn't like his interior design skills.

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How did everyone like it? We'll get to find out where Patrick is next time!

The next update will Thursday August 17th! Although I did change the updating schedule so this book gets monthly updates, you guys haven't had chapters for a while - so I'll be writing another one for next Thursday!

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~Shay 📽📸