welcome to my first Peterick fanfic! I hope I do good. please give me feedback it would be greatly appreciated. The people helping me are @BainbridgeCorey and @ManiaPug AkA the peterick god!

Anyway, onto the story

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third person pov

we all know what people are thinking about us while we walk down the street.

The people who wear colorful clothes and soft things are automatically weak and feminine. The kids who are athletic are jerks with half a brain.

But not Patrick. they say worse things about him.

Patrick was always the slightly chubby kid that everyone likes to pick on. In elementary school, he was the only plus sized kid. They called him all types of of creative names, like fatrick.

Who the hell comes up with that?!

whatever. I guess society just works that way.

we have norms. If you are emo, die. If you are artistic, die. If you are over 134 lbs, die.

and anyone who breaks those norms are insane. Maybe that's why he's here now.

Outside the Chicago psychiatric hospital for the mentally unstable.

If you are wondering what the little cinnamon roll did to get himself in here, he had an extreme eating disorder but to be honest,

it was because he was gay.

shocking I know.

The day he came out to his mother, she made up this wild story about him trying to kill himself multiple times.

When in reality, was only once.

But nevertheless, he was here and there was nothing he could do about it.

Patrick walked into the asylum with his therapist Aaliyah. she is the one who suggested that he go there.

Saying how much of a 'good place it was' or something like that. Patrick looked down the entire time.

Just wanting to get it over with.

"Nervous?" she asked. Patrick shook his head.

He honestly didn't care.

"Are you sure. You know you might have to meet new people and ajust to new things-"

" Are you trying to make me nervous?!" he asked.

Looking away from his shoes and at her. she franticly shook her head.

" Oh no no, no! um I was just trying to list things that you might want to get used to" she smiled worriedly.

Patrick raised an eyebrow and started walking into the hospital and getting pat down.

When they were done, he turned around with the blankest expression

"Thank you. But I am already used to being treated like I am insane"

He then turned on his heels and me with a lady in all white and had her hair tied up into a ponytail.

Everything was white around the hospital.

The carpet, the halls, the outfits, everything.

"Good morning Patrick"

She chirped before pulling out a clip board. Patrick only gave a subtle wave and looked back down.

It is way too early for social interaction. he thought.

The nurse - who was way too happy in his opinion- told him to fallow her and lead him into a hallway that was all white.

No other color.

At the end of the hallway was a room that looked almost ominous.

Once they got there, she smiled a very creepy smile.

Whelp, this is it, I am going to get murdered in this hospital.

he thought. the nurse opened the door and put a overly painted nail to her lips.

Patrick raised an eyebrow but didn't question this.

He tip toed into the room that was way too dark. In the room were two beds and some blank white walls.

There was a lump in the blankets on the bed on the left side of the room.

Patrick's eyes widened.

He had a roommate?

"Well, here is your new outfits Patrick. we only wear white with the exceptions of Fridays when you can wear whatever you want. Your roommate is named Pete and I think you two will get along perfectly. we have rules here but we can discuss those later on. for now get some rest."

she said before leaving the room.

Finally. he thought.

Patrick sat down on the bed and noticed that his bags are there.

He grabbed them and gently put them on his bed. He unzipped his bag as quietly as he could as to not wake up Pete

Took out a pair of fluffy pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt. He then laid down and closed his eyes.

He started humming a soft song. It usually helped him sleep. It went like that before a large object hit Patrick in the head.

"Ouch! what the-

" shut the hell up" someone harshly whispered.

That must've been Pete. He obviously didn't like being woken up at this ungodly hour. Patrick shut his mouth and rolled over.

Pete actually wasn't asleep though. He just didn't want to hear anymore extra noises. He had his thoughts to worry about and those were loud enough.

You see Pete has a bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.

He has a small voice in the back of his head that mocked him for everything he did.

It made fun of and insulted him every day.

Pete rolls over to face the wall. The voices were screaming at him and he couldn't help but let out small groans every tome they said something.

"Are you awake?"

The small voice in the other side of the room whispers

"No" He groans. Closing his eyes

"You sound pretty awake to me"

Patrick smiled, turning to face Pete's back. Maybe if he were friendly, Pete would want to be his friend in this lonely asylum

"Say something else, and you won't wake up" Pete whispered harshly.

Patrick gulped and bit his lip. Maybe Pete doesn't want a friend.

Or maybe it was just too early in the morning for friends.