He has to lose weight. He'll get diabetes otherwise and the idea isn't pleasing. He does pushups and tries to calm the voice that nags at him, calling him all the names he's heard as the years passed, especially when he got to the spotlight. They told him to lose weight. Well, he's listening to them now, isn't he?

 

His head spins by when he finishes his workout. He drinks what's left of his bottle of water, eats a salad with enough calories to keep him going and breathes hard, his lungs burning against his rib cage. All that glued his life together— the band, his eating habits, his relationship with all three of his bandmates— it all had fallen apart.

 

He's dizzy as he lays down on the couch, his head going everywhere except where he wants it to go. He writes a few lyrics in his notebook, scrawled across the page as he tries to focus. He hasn't touched his medication for ADHD, as he found out one of its side effects is weight gain.

 

He records songs as he loses weight, as he drinks and as he avoids all foods but fruits, vegetables and meat. He writes sad blog posts he never clicks the 'Post' button for. He sighs in relief once he sees his pudginess is gone, only a flat-ish stomach left in its place.

 

He's thin, he's perfect, he's good and he's going to do better than he did in Folie. The days of that album were tumultuous, arguing with his boyfriends and ending up sleeping alone for the first time in years. Not feeling Andy or Joe or Pete close to him in bed is the worst sensation in the world.

 

He tries not to let all he thinks get to him. He sings, he plays his instruments, he orchestrates an EP and an album. Truant Wave and Soul Punk. His life isn't glued back together when he's in his first concert since Folie's failure, singing about girls and the 'barely legal' culture that disgusts him.

 

Suits make his figure look better. He looks manlier, not so boyish and fat like he did when he wore sweaters and hoodies stolen from Pete's wardrobe. They hug his body and when he sees Joe in the crowd of one of his shows, he's glad he's wearing a suit rather than the messy mix-and-matches of when he's home.

 

"Joe!" A sob wracks his insides as they wrap their arms around each other's middles, Joe kissing his forehead and him only being able to kiss his jaw and his chin.

 

"Patrick!" The same adoration he's heard again and again is in his voice. His heart hurts. "You're so... different," Joe tells him as they pull away. He's got a big smile, his curls tucked beneath a baseball cap. "I've been working in a supergroup with Andy. He misses you."

 

"I miss you all, too." The words break up were never uttered when they went their separate ways, but the deal was obvious enough. The band is put to a halt; their intricate relationship is too. "Pete's working with Bebe Rexha, right?"

 

Joe nods and he tips Patrick's head up for them to kiss, their lips melting against each other. Joe moves his hand around the other man's cheek as he deepens the kiss, and Patrick can feel the blush in his cheeks before he pulls away.

 

"How have you been doing?" Joe asks as they sit together.

 

"Not great," he admits, shrugging. "Been losing weight. Dyed my hair impulsively. I haven't took my meds in a while, they make me gain weight."

 

Joe raises his eyebrows. "Are you eating healthily?"

 

He nods and doesn't say a thing. Joe kisses him again, and with the darkness of the night covering them like a sheet, he thinks he can do this. He can live through the pause in the band, he can be in better terms with his boyfriends.

 

He doesn't have too much money, but he has enough to buy a ticket for a Black Cards concert. He nods his head along to the music, and Pete's eyes lock with his halfway through the concert.

 

Pete has dark circles under his eyes, there's no trace of his makeup from years ago and his voice drags on as he sings. Once the show is over Pete jumps off stage and hugs Patrick— it's asphyxiating to be next to Pete, to smell his cologne and his sweat, heads close together.

 

"Trick, I missed you! How have you been?"

 

Patrick grins, kisses his cheek, squeezes his shoulder. He wants to make love to him and explore his body, he wants to become one with him again. "I've been alright," he says, not delving into the subject. He can explain soon enough. "You look different."

 

"You look way more different, Pattycakes."

 

Patrick laughs at the old nickname, something Pete settled on way before they even kissed for the first time. "Have you talked to Joe yet?"

 

"He came to a concert too. We had sex."

 

"I miss that."

 

Pete smiles wide and toothy. "Once we reunite we can have a foursome, Tricky."

 

Patrick shakes his head and kisses him, messy and full of an adoration he's seen time and time again over the years. "I still have to see Andy," he says.

 

Pete sighs. "I do too."

 

It takes them until late 2012 to be all four in the same room. Andy has cut his hair short and he has a few more tattoos. Joe has let his hair be and it's a little longer than when Patrick saw him at his concert. All of them look emotional, Joe biting his lip and Pete's eyes watery.

 

"I missed you all so much," Patrick says, breaking the ice. Suddenly the room erupts into conversation and laughter, Pete sitting on Joe's lap and Patrick inching closer to Andy and starting to nip at his neck.

 

"I thought we'd never get back together," Pete admits before planting a kiss on Joe's neck. "I was afraid, these three years."

 

"Are we going to let our fans know?" Andy asks. The oldest man is smiling like an idiot, just as Andy is.

 

"Shouldn't it be better if it was a surprise?"

 

"I think we could use one of those demos from years ago," Patrick says, "You know, as our coming back song?"

 

Pete slams his hand against his thigh, his eyes wide and excited. He's like a little puppy, and it makes Patrick's heart jump. "That's a great idea! What do you think, Andy?"

Andy grins and answers, "Don't we have a song stored around, Light 'Em Up, was it?"

 

 

"I feel like we should scrap most of it, just the title line and a little more," Joe suggests, running his fingers through his curly hair.

 

"Yeah, I think so," Pete nods.

 

As they keep talking about their lives during the hiatus and how much they missed each other, Patrick thinks that maybe, just maybe his life is being slowly glued back together.

 

He can't help but be grateful for that.