I Wrote This By Patrick Star Mga Nobela at Kwento

After wearing the bathrobe, I decided to sleep but my attention was caught by a door next to the couch which maybe led to the terrace. I quickly opened it and the sight in front of me was so amazing. I was standing in a balcony filled with flowered pots and tons of stars in the sky. So beautiful. I muttered to myself while clinging on the railing. I sat on the small stool placed there and just kept staring at the stars. These stars were shining so bright, that they even made a dark sky light full. I wonder who will come in my dark life to make it glow. Is there anyone in this world who is made for me?

"gasp !! how did she...how come ..am sure I avoid all cameras,I'm sure of it....." " Bullshit" Mr Patrick said banging the table,"gosh!! am in trouble am sure my plan was perfect," "how could you?how could you do this to your sister ??" Mr Patrick said ,i can feel all eyes on me "I....I...it a misunderstanding....I....gosh!! it all Tilly's fault" she cause all this disgrace,it Tilly ,damn I hate her,"I think I should call your school and report " Mr Patrick said "Damn am dead,please,please,I plead please forgive me it was a mistake,I ..... "

Wyatt's POV "Give me back my watch!" I roared as I lunged at Patrick, trying to snatch my watch back. It was the only keepsake my father had left me. I had kept it safe all these years and was reluctant to even touch it too much. I never expected Patrick would take it too. But before I could get close, Callista suddenly shoved me to the ground. She spread her arms wide and stood firmly in front of Patrick. "I gave this to Mr. Goldstein! Just name your price! I'll transfer it to you right now!"

Everything seemed normal, not surprising, even the sense of deja vu became a normalcy—until she entered, scanning the room with a sense of confusion in her eyes. “Is that the chick you bumped Into earlier?” Patrick asked, noticing the fact that I stared at someone longer than a second. “Hmm.” I mused, taking a small sip the vodka, the burn of the liquid making me feel alive. “She is.” So ordinary looking, but I still remembered her features, especially the scattered freckles on her nose like a constellation of stars. “She's—” “Ordinary.” I completed Patrick's statement, watching as his lips curled into a small grin. He was a member of Shadow Gray pack, somewhere I bumped into during one of m

I replied firmly. "Uh, really? But you lied to me, Catt. You lied to me," Patrick insisted, his voice rising. I bit my lower lip to stifle a sigh. "I lied because I had something important to do," I explained, trying to keep my voice calm. "Important thing to do? To see a man? That's ridiculous, Catt. I've waited a whole year to take you on a road trip, to have a date with you, but you can't even give me that. Yet, you give your time to some mysterious stranger?" Patrick exploded, his anger palpable.

And I wish I can do something to make their lives better. There is absolutely nothing interesting in my life as of the moment. Seriously, I am not pathetic to go after Samuel. I don't think that I need a fucking love life. My life has been great without him. I just have to focus my energy in something more productive with my life. I decided to work on a new book and I think it's going to be great. And I think I am out for fucking blood. I want to write a story about a stalker who kills people he thinks is going to ruin his perfect love story. This would book will not be a walk in the park so I need help from my editor.

Patrick said, snapping a purple Sour Patch in half between his teeth and flashing her a smirk, “it literally does have your name on it. Now, do you promise not to freak the hell out when I show you what I found?” “You?” Her eyes widened. “You did some actual journalistic work?” She didn’t mean to be rude or anything, but she figured he didn’t need to, seeing as he was a news god. Patrick waggled his brows. “Let’s just say I have a friend who had a friend that had some open business with the person in question, so when he overheard this hot piece of gossip, he was eager to dig up the bone at the end of that hole. It turns out the bone was meaty.”

"You are unlikable! You're not even close to pretty! You are not even cute! You don't have something to be proud of! I could hear Patrick's voice over and over again as I stared at myself. Yeah! I don't have the looks, maybe because I don't have a Mom to take good care of me. I look plain and haggard. With my hair so loose, I really look like a gangster. I complained to myself. "You are unlikable! You're not even close to pretty! You are not even cute! You don't have something to be proud of!" "You think you're handsome enough to say I'm unlikable? Yes, you're tall and your nose is attractive but you're not handsome, Patrick! You're really not!"

That fateful encounter sparked our love story. As I sipped my afternoon coffee to the soothing melody of a slow song, I stared at my laptop screen, editing the first draft of my poem, which I was supposed to submit before the day ended. My phone suddenly beeped, interrupting my work. It was a message from Patrick: "Let's meet tonight at my place." "Okay, sweetie," I replied, brushing off the unusual tone of his message. Normally, he would call me those cheesy, sweet names he used to and even add some red heart emojis to his texts.

Patrick said, "She's the worst. A crazy woman. A nasty witch!" By the time I reached the last message, I was trembling so hard that I didn't even notice my finger had tapped the screen and accidentally sent a symbol into their chat. As soon as Patrick realized their secret was exposed, he flew into rage and pointed at me. He shouted, "You had no right to read my messages! Who gave you permission? I'm removing you from the home network!" Patrick truly was Nicholas' pup. Even the way he yelled at me sounded just like his father.