Random oneshots :)

9-patrick melrose x reader (B.C)

*mantions of alcohol and drug use*

he picks up the phone, slips in with shaky hands the coin and looks at the card in his hand, slowly punching number after number, and when hes done he lets his hand fall to his side while he waits for the line to be picked up.

"hello?" you ask groggily as you pick up the phone, rubbing your eyes at the someone who has just woke you up. "anyone there?" you ask in a giggle, but the laughing stops when you hear a shaky and low "{Y/N}". your smile drops and you lean on the counter "who is it?" you ask, brows forrowed. no answer.

"hello, can you hear me?" you ask, pressing the phone harder to your ear. "its... patrick" your heart sinks into your underwear as you hear his voice and name. "i havent heared from you in so long..." you mummble, no answer. "patrick, are you alright?" you ask, turning to grip otno the counter.

"no.." he mummbles. "im not good" he mummbles with chomed up words. "what happened?" you ask. "im alone and i dont feel well" he mummbles, his voice breaking.

"where are you love, where are you calling from?" you ask. "the bottom" he sighs. "christ, where are you?" you ask as you press your ear to your shoulder, your phone between them as you pull in a pair of shorts and grab your keys that are tyed to a chain and drape them around your neck. "airport" he breaths out.

"alright im on my way, hang on" you hurridly say, running out of your house and onto the very bright outside life, splashing on your face your sunglasses. "what happened patrick?" you ask as you sit in the black SUV, but you get no respond.

there is kind of silence on the other end of the line, until you hear a little sob. hes crying. patrick is letting his tears roll down his cheeks, which he hasnt done for quiet a while, holding the phone to his ear to hear your voice.

"dear are you hear, can you hear me?" you ask, but only sound is another sob that breaks your heart. "im on my way, just... calm down ok?" you ask. "ok" he sobs, and right then the call is ending. "christ!" you yell as you drive to the airport, punching the gas peddle to get there as fast as you can, and it works, it took you only 20 minutes to get to the airport.

you quickly park your car and exit it, locking it and running through the parking lot and inside the airport. "excuse me where are the phones?" you ask, but only greeted with cameras flashing. the life of an actress in LA.

"piss off!" you shout, running to the infromation booth. "telephones" is the only word you say frantically and the woman points to your left, wide eyes. "thanks" you quickly say and start walking over to where she pointed, your head down to try and get less people taking photos of you as you make your way over to the benches.

you lift your head up and look through the benches, only to find patrick sitting on one of them, head down, hands twiching and tear stained cheeks. you run over to him and drop on both knees infront of him.

"patrick are you ok?" you ask and he lifts his eyes to you and shakes his head before falling from the bench onto his knees infront of you and wraps his hands around you, cowering his head to your chest as he cries and hugs you. "shh shh its alright dear... its ok..." you try calming him down, patting his hair and back for about a minute, as he stops crying.

"lets get you out of here.." you mummble, standing up and throwing his arm around your shoulder and helping him through the very cold airport, filled with light and loud noises as he drags his feet by you, practically carrying him outside.

you get to the car and open the passanger seat, setting him down and buckling him before quickly circling the car and sitting in the drivers seat and look over to him. he clearly had a relapse and now hes regretting it.