Wonderless CH9 Obsessions Revisited

"You want me to burn! You want me to hurt!"

Winter's voice echoed repeatedly throughout Patrick's skull as he stared at a whole rack of different branded crackers. He was in the middle of a grocery store with a basket in one hand. He only had some bread, cheese, meat and water. Now, he was trying to decide what kind of crackers he would buy. However, it didn't help that everything almost looked the same. That, combined with that hauntingly elegant and mystifying voice speaking-no, singing to him. Though the owner of said voice was nowhere to be found. It was just his own brain torturing him, replaying her song while simultaneously trying to choose which packet of crackers to purchase.

"Supermarket, oh what packer of crackers to pick,"

It never mattered to him before, and it shouldn't matter to him now. He doesn't have an obsessive compulsive disorder, he never cared at all what kind of bread or crackers he got.  It could have been a generic brand and he still would have ate them. But now it seemed like if he chose the wrong packet, it would drastically effect how his day would go.

"They're all the same, one brand, one name,"

He didn't know why he thought the crackers would effect his day at all. It's not like it ever has before. So why now? Where was all of this coming from? Was it that song? Was it anxiety? Or was it something else entirely? Something even he himself couldn't comprehend?

Patrick reached a hand out to grab a package of crackers, thinking there were the right ones. But when he laid his hand on the cardboard packaging, he hesitated. These were the wrong ones. He retracted his arm and instead went to grab a different brand. But then he stopped. These weren't the right ones, either. He went on to a third box. Then stopped. He went back to the first, then the third, then back to the first again, then to the second. It was a never ending vortex of confusion and paranoia that the wrong box was somehow the end of the world.

"but really they're not."

"What are you doing to me, love?" Patrick mumbled almost depressingly to himself. Just then, he felt a foreign pair of eyes staring at him. He turned his head to see a tall blonde next to him, looking at him. She looked somewhat perplexed. He gazed at her, almost studying her appearance in the span of only a couple seconds. She had fair skin, much like Winter. Except, maybe a bit darker. Her eyes were a very cold icey blue and her hair was long, swept to the side and bleach blonde. She was also really skinny and really tall. Taller than Patrick even. However, there was one aspect of her that caught his attention.

Her left arm. It was missing. It actually kind of intimidated him and put him on edge. He had never seen anything like it.

"Huh? Did you say something?" He asked her politely. The girl tilted her head, looking down at him. Her red lips pulled into an entertained little smirk.

"I just noticed you've been standing there for nearly twenty minutes. Everything okay?" The girls' voice was somewhat low and raspy. She actually sounded kind of like Emma Stone. Wait, no, she sounded like Winter! And this girl even held that devious glint on her face like Winter did. The way she carried herself was similar as well. Head held high and arms crossed. Just her overall feel screamed Winter. Yet, they looked nothing alike, save for the lips and body type. Although Winter was much shorter.

Patrick's face was almost like a deer caught in headlights before he finally registered her words. He gave her a polite smile and let out a small sigh. "Yeah, I'm good. Just having a little trouble choosing which packet to buy. That's all." He explained. The girl chuckled slightly at his predicament.

"I see." She replied. "I understand the feeling. I've been OCD for as long as I can remember."

"Really?"

"Unfortunately so. It's been the downfall of many friendships." She joked. Patrick chuckled in amusement, but he couldn't help but have a lingering feeling of deja vu. Like he's experienced this before. The crackers, at least.

"We've got obsessions..."

Wait. He hasn't experienced this. He's read about it!

"...obsessions..."

This...This is exactly what happened in the poem Winter wrote about a dysfunctional and unhappy relationship. Where the one is standing, trying to decide which crackers to buy. To the teeth, it was the exact same. Even the part where someone was staring at him like he was mental. Although, as it turns out, the person staring was mental herself.

"Anyway," she started. "what's your name?"

Patrick smiled up at her, relieved that she wasn't aware of his celebrity status.

"I'm Patrick. You?"

"Vikki, Vikki Serenade." She replied. Patrick nodded with a smile, then turned back around to look at the crackers. He still hadn't chosen a package to purchase. He shook his head.

"Ah, screw it." He hissed to himself before completely abandoning the idea of buying crackers. They were just way too agitating. Vikki chuckled at his frustration. She watched as he dropped the basket and huffed. He'd given up. He wasn't buying the damn crackers, or the bread, or the cheese or the meat.

"Sorry." He apologized sheepishly. Vikki shrugged. "Eh, happens with me all the time."

Well, that would explain her small body.

"Uh," Patrick started again. "I-If you don't mind my asking, um, what happened there?" He gestured to where her arm once was. Her mysterious smile returned once more. It didn't seem like she cared much about the question.

"Oh, that." She began nonchalantly. "I got into a bit of a scuffle with my then girlfriend."

What the hell kind of scuffle was she talking about? Patrick hasn't gotten into many fights during his twenty nine years of existence, therefore he doesn't know a lot about combat and fighting. But he knows enough to know that a 'scuffle' never ended with someone losing one of their limbs. Maybe she was being sarcastic with that word. Either way, he felt kind of bad that someone would do that to her. She must have been super pissed.

"Must have been some scuffle, huh?" He commented a bit awkwardly. Vikki scoffed lightly.

"Yep. Note to self, never leave a fire ax where a pissed off psychopath can get it."

"A psychopath?"

Vikki scoffed lightly again. "Yeah. The sad thing is, I'm not even insulting her. She was genuinely diagnosed as one."

Patrick grimaced. He sure didn't want to ever have to deal with someone like that. He couldn't begin to imagine the kind of hell this stranger has been through.

"I'm sorry." Was all he could think to say. Vikki shook her head and chortled. "Don't worry about it, it's all in the past."

"Yeah." Patrick agreed. "Well I hope everything's okay now."

"Don't worry, I'm no longer dating a psycho!" She joked. The two shared a laugh over possibly one of the most fucked up joked imaginable.

"Anyway, I've gotta get going. Hopefully I'll see you around."

Vikki then departed, walking off with a basket of various make up products and a couple of produce items. Patrick offered a wave as she left before exiting the supermarket himself. However, as he got into his car, he couldn't help but feel kind of irked and admittedly a little disturbed on the inside. And not just because of the robotic arm. Something about Vikki's aura made him almost afraid. She also very much reminded him of the girl he was hopelessly in love with.

But then, a flash of that day appeared fresh in his mind. The day Patrick and Winter first got coffee and discussed music together. She was wearing a solid gray flannel.

With the left sleeve torn off.

-----

"Ya' know, we should totally like, start a band!"  Kellin shouted towards the bathroom connected to his bedroom. The door was open and Winter came walking out in a pair of his old sweat pants and a heartagram t-shirt. She was in the process of drying off her dark hair with a towel, most of her make up was off and her Japanese eyes bright and visible. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly out of bewilderment. This was kind of out of the blue, especially since Kellin never seemed to be interested in such a thing. He mainly liked to ear pizza and listen to Led Zeppelin.

"That's random." She responded and plopped down on one of his plushy beanbag chairs. Kellin shrugged, bringing up a Red Bull to his lips. "It's just an idea. It's not like we'll ever be famous or anything."

Winter took a turn in shrugging. "I don't see why not. It's probably be fun." She grinned at the thought. Kellin nodded along and handed her a full Red Bull of her own. She thanked him quietly and popped it open. The room was dreadfully silent again. Neither of them really enjoyed it, but at least Winter wasn't sobbing anymore. Her face was free of any tears and any signs that she'd been crying were gone. She was okay now. However, he still had to know what had happened.

"So," he began carefully. He wanted to avoid antagonizing her. "What exactly happened?"

Winter froze, her arms going rigid. It was clear that she didn't want to recall whatever went down, but she had a feeling that Kellin wouldn't let up until she spilled the beans. Oh well, might as well get it over with now. There really is no point in dwelling over it.

"U-Uh...Well I, I just left Patrick's hotel-"

Kellin stood up suddenly with bug eyes. A mix between despair and raw fury crossed his features and he looked like he was about to kill somebody. "Did he hurt you!?" He demanded. Winter flinched at his loud voice. She tentatively shook her head. "N-No..."

Kellin knelt down to her level, placing both hand on her shoulders. She shrunk back ever so slightly while he leaned in closer.

"Did he...Did he force you?" He asked seriously in a much lower tone. Winter shoved him lightly to the side, stood up, and shook her head quickly. "Oh god! Kellin no!" She exclaimed. "I was not raped, okay!?"

"Then what happened!?" Mother Valo said.

"He....He m-may or may not have...uh, kinda k-kissed me....sort of."

Kellin's eyes widened even more if at all possible. He was certainly not expecting an answer like that.

"He kissed you?"

"Yeah......"

Kellin paused. "....What kind of kiss was it?"

"What?"

"Was it like a peck on the cheek? Or was it like..."

Winter grimaced at the rich boys' horrible impression of a one person make out session.

"Uh, it was just a normal kiss, Kellin." She clarified.

He sighed and went back to being a normal person. Well, as normal as a drug addict could get.

"Just," He trailed off for a moment. Winter raised an eyebrow. "be careful, alright? He's-He's a big time celebrity and I don't want either of you to get in trouble. Believe it or not, I actually kinda like him. He's a gentleman."

Winter chuckled and dove into his arms. Kellin immediately hugged her back tightly. It was true, if anyone was gonna be with his best friend, he wanted it to be Patrick. He was kind, gentle, and understanding. Hell, he'd probably go gay for him given the right circumstances.

"But if he hurts you, heads will fucking roll."

"Kellin!"