Ok, this story is from Patrick's POV during the time of the movie as well as after.

Disclaimer: No, as you have probably already noticed, I don't own any of these characters. Shame really.

Chapter One:

"Embarrass The Girl"

I'm not the sort of person who really goes into a bookshop for fun so I wasn't too surprised that she suspected me of stalking her. Well, I wasn't....not illegally anyway. Kat shoved the novel into my chest and stormed out of the store. I looked down at the book pinned to my torso and had to grin. Well, that didn't work, I told myself, back to the hunt, though.

"Embarrass the girl," was Cameron's oh-so-helpful suggestion. Great. I am a pro at embarrassing myself but doing it on purpose? A whole different ballgame there.

I consulted my mother on the matter. I know, I know, not the coolest thing in the world to do but then again, she was a teenage girl once, and from what I've heard from my grandparents and her friends, not the most sociable of butterflies either.

My mother regarded me from over her cup of Jarrah hot chocolate, "Patrick," she looked at me pityingly, "what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

I hate it when she does that. It seems so obviously humiliating and I know she does it on purpose.

"Forget it," I mumbled and got up from the chair I had been occupying whilst seeking counsel. She laughed.

"Aww, Patrick, don't chuck a fruity," (one of my mum's favourite sayings. We moved from Australia about eight years ago and while I may have gone slightly 'Americano', as my mother calls it, she still retains all that is Aussie), "come back here and I'll try to help you out." She patted the bed next to her and I rolled my eyes as I stopped in my tracks and obliged.

"What's her name?" was her first question.

"Katarina," I told her, using Kat's full name. I felt doing this added a little extra to the dilemma of winning her over. Scrap that, it makes it sound as though I don't like her. I do, its just that, well, having accepted money for it makes it sound as though it's a chore.

Mum thought for a moment. Probably thinking of more questions to ask me in the process of probing information out of me that I usually wouldn't tell her. I was right.

"How did you meet her?"

Shit. How am I supposed to explain this one? Some asshole paid me money to bone her? I don't think so.

"We're in the same literature class," I lied and congratulated myself on the spur of the moment answer.

"Oh, well, that's nice," my mother, not one for the usual motherly answers, really took the cake for that one.

I rolled my eyes, "mum, concentrate. You are meant to be helping me remember? Heeeeeelping," I drew the word out in attempts to snap her out of this stupor she seemed to be in. It seemed to work too.

"Right," that was more like mum, back to business, "well, what is she interested in?"

"Er..." truth was, I knew exactly what she was interested in. Only problem was, I had no intention of embellishing on any of the things she liked.

"Music," I settled on. Safe enough, I thought.

"Sing for her," my mother answered promptly. So promptly, in fact, that I wasn't sure at first that I had heard what she said.

"W-what?" I stammered. She couldn't possibly have just said-

"Sing for her," mum repeated, slower and more clearly this time.

I stared at her in disbelief, "you're kidding right? Sing? Me?"

"Sure," mum said comfortably, "I've heard you in the shower, you aren't bad," she added. Needless to say I was turning a very attractive shade of crimson right now.

"Ok," I said slowly, "but how? Its not like I can get her alone in a room with a microphone conveniently plugged in, is it?"

"But that's the whole point, love," she stopped to take a sip of her hot chocolate and I waited impatiently for what else she had to say on the matter. Unfortunately for me, though, once she had finished her drink, she merely sat in silence, looking at me expectantly as though I was meant to say the next line.

"What's the whole point?" I asked finally, amazed that she had nothing else to say.

She rolled her eyes at me as though the answer was obvious. Well, it probably was to her. To me, on the other hand, I needed a little more explaining to be done.

"You do it in front of a crowd. Embarrass her like Carmichael said."

"Cameron," I corrected her absentmindedly as the horrific event unfolded in my mind. I could picture it now. I would be singing something tacky like 'What's New, Pussy Cat?' merely because it featured her name. I could even hear the laughter and feel the burning feeling on my face from the inevitable embarrassment I would feel. I shook my head to get rid of the mental image and stared at my mother as though she had suddenly jumped out of bed and started to dance to the same song I had just been envisioning. I looked at her in horror.

"Um, no!"

"Why not?" Mum asked, offended that I would reject her suggestion so passionately.

I didn't even bother to dignify that with a response. To save myself from the prospect of having to explain exactly why I didn't feel the urge to stand up in front of a crowd and sing to a girl who would ultimately turn me down anyway I pushed myself off the bed and began to walk out of the room.

"I'm the only one who can help," mum reminded me cruelly just before I reached the door. I turned around to find her smiling sweetly at me. I then did something no-one but my mum has ever seen me do. I admit it, I whined.

"Then heeeeelp me," I made a face and sat back down on the bed.

Mum shook her head, "you smoke, you listen to scary music, you drink like a fish but you're still my little boy aren't you?"

I grinned, "forever and ever," I said in a little-kiddie voice.

Mum rolled here eyes for the second time during this conversation and beckoned me back over to where she sat.

Well there you go. My first chapter completed. See? Patrick isn't as horrible and mean and scary as all that after all. He's a perfectly normal person underneath that scary exterior. Chapter two to be posted soon, I just have to write it...