Chapter Text
Patrick was in a dilemma. He was sick. Sick of his life, working day in day out, painfully killing time at a desk surrounded by the kind of people he really didn't want to be surrounded by. Dull, boring people who surprisingly didn't seem as bothered about their meagre existence as Patrick did about his. What didn't help his situation is that Patrick was reminded, constantly, of how pitiful his career and his life is by the stabbing, aching and burning pain he was feeling in his shoulders and neck. Sitting at a desk for over 7 hours, 5 days a week was not doing him any favours. Patrick was in a dilemma.
"You know you should really sort that shit out" Joe said as he sipped his coffee nonchalantly.
"Yeah, and how?" Patrick responded, leaning against the counter in the cramped company kitchen, rolling his shoulders back and wincing at the stretch.
"I dunno man, physio?" Joe said.
Patrick snorted.
"Or" Joe laughed "you could always try pilates, or like, yoga! I'm sure Andy would love to help a friend out"
Patrick shook his head furiously. "No. Positively, no. Bad idea."
"Whatever. Just know that any more complaining about your fuckin' shoulders or whatever and I'm hooking you up with Andy" Joe laughed as he led the way out of the kitchen back to their desks.
- - - -
"Hello, Greenwood Springs Medical Centre, how can we help you today?"
Patrick stared at the phone.
"Sir? Madam?"
"Oh yes, hello, sorry. I um... I'd like to book an appointment with the physiotherapist, if um... that's okay, thank you?" Patrick said, more of a question than a statement.
"No problem, what time and day is best for you Sir? And could I get a name please?"
"Yeah um, Patrick Stump. And yeah anytime is good. Anyday."
"Well our physiotherapist works Tuesdays and Thursdays - how does five thirty this afternoon sound?" the lady said, speaking slowly and deliberately. Patrick suddenly felt about 5 years old.
"Um yes.. thank you. That's great. Thanks"
"Okay Sir, so that's an appointment booked with our physiotherapist at five thirty this afternoon."
"Great, thanks! Bye!" Patrick practically screamed down the line. He threw the phone down and breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Social situations were awkward at the very least, but a one-to-one with someone he didn't know, for an hour. Wait how long do these sessions last? shit.
- - - -
Patrick sat in the waiting room, bumping his knee up and down and messing with the hem of his shirt. He kept glancing up at the board to see if his name had been called, watching the door out of the corner of his eye. After what felt like hours, days even, he heard a loud beep and looked up at the board to see the little red LED lights spelling out his name. Oh god.
He walked down the corridor, following the signs that pointed to 'Physiotherapy' and somehow found himself standing outside of the door. He knocked.
"Come in!" A muffled voice sounded from inside, a deep, very-obviously masculine voice.
Patrick felt a little bit of tension leave his body. Good, it could have been a woman - that would have been worse. Only because it would be as awkward as hell. He wouldn't want to give off any 'creepy-guy' vibes.. or something. Patrick pushed the handle and found himself opening the door and shuffling in, head down.
"Hey! You must be Patrick. I'm Dr. Wentz, but feel free to call me Pete!" The doctor said confidently. Patrick could see a hand stretched out towards him, offering a handshake he thinks.
"Oh yeah, hi. Patrick." Patrick squeaks. He raises his head and accepts the handshake, meeting Dr. Wentz's eyes momentarily before glancing away to find something far more interesting to stare at on the wall. He could feel a small blush starting to creep up his cheeks.
Patrick swore mentally at himself. This was the worst mistake he's ever made.